#I was friends with a guy who got aggressive (not violent) when he had a good emotion

[stardustedknuckles]

Blah blah blah healing and recovery but it's annoying that my reaction to someone actively choosing to do something kind for me irl has me running the gamut of embarrassment at being treated any kind of special way to anger at the fact that kindness should feel so foreign, with very little ability to actually feel pleased and thankful for the kindness itself. Like this weird grumpiness IS the thankfulness in a weird way but we can't have a real feeling instead of a deflection because that's not safe. Bullshit.

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

In Bruise We Trust

The sun beat down mercilessly, and the only solace you and the kids could find was in the cool waters of the pool and under the shade of the gazebo. Sweat slicked the back of your neck even though you had spent most of the time in the shade. With your sunglasses pushed to the tip of your nose, you squinted past the glare and caught sight of the dark bruise across Dick’s back. It was an ugly, deep purple with black edges, about the size of a softball, and stark against his sun-kissed skin.

You finished rubbing the last of the sunscreen into Duke’s shoulder before giving his arm a gentle pat. “Go on, Sunshine,” you told him as Alfred beckoned him over to the pool. Happily, he skipped along. 

Standing, you called Dick over. “You need some more sunscreen, hun.”

Looking back at the pool momentarily, you knew he was considering ignoring you, but decided against it at the last second. As he entered the shade, you took off your sunglasses to get a better look at him. There was a flush on his cheeks, and beads of sweat were already rolling down his temples. He had just finished running around the yard, kicking around a soccer ball, before noticing everyone beginning to get into the pool. So, it was no surprise he was anxious to take a dip into the cool, clear water.  

“Turn around,” You ordered, squirting some of the sunscreen into your hand. He did so wordlessly, and you finally saw the bruise up close. It looked far worse than you imagined. It took up a good chunk of the right side of his back and looked to be in the vague shape of a shoe. Gently rubbing sunscreen on it, you stopped when he winced. 

“Wanna tell me how you got the bruise?” You asked, moving to his shoulder. 

Dick shook his head, but answered anyway. “Some guys were fucking with me at the park yesterday—I got ‘em, though.”

The story was believable since he had gone to the park the day before to catch up with friends from school. Yet, something about it felt off. There was some truth in what he said, but a lie was hidden there, too. 

“Have you told your father?” You turned him around so he was looking at you. Swiping a bit of the lotion on his cheeks, you quietly told him to rub it in. 

Dick snickered, but did as he was told. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” You pointed out. 

After a second, he finally said, “Yes, he knows.”

Pursing your lips, you pondered on whether you should pry more from him before deciding not to. He was too likely to clam up. “If someone bothers you again, you come to me or Bruce, you understand?”

“Yes, Nan,” He said with a little smile. Finally, you told Dick to go and he took off towards like a dog off a leash. 

There was a splash followed by some complaints from Cassandra and Tim. Duke was still being coaxed into the pool by Alfred, who held Damian on his hip. Jason sat on the lounge chaise on the other side of the gazebo, sunglasses on his face as he read yet another book. He was still reeling from a sunburn he had gotten the week before. 

With a sigh, you moved to help Alfred. Duke, still wary, clung to the pool's steps, worried about getting swept away. You settled beside him, squirting water with a toy shark, just as you caught Tim pressing his hand directly into Dick’s bruise. 

Dick howled and spun, smacking Tim across the face.

Immediately, you stood and, at the top of your lungs, yelled, “Out of the pool, now!”

Though you'd only meant Tim and Dick, everyone froze, then clambered out: Alfred, Cassandra, Damian—all of them. You stayed rooted at the edge of the pulse, racing. Tim and Dick stopped before you, the younger boy sobbing. 

“Come here,” You cooed, pulling Tim toward you. Dick rolled his eyes, about to stalk off, before you grabbed his arm. “You okay, hun?”

Dick could be aggressive now and then, but he didn’t often resort to such a violent reaction towards his siblings. The usual shove was expected and met with the usual reprimand. This, on the other hand, was instinctive. Like, he hadn’t expected it to be Tim, but rather someone else. 

He seemed surprised you asked. Quietly, he said, “Yeah, Nan.”

“Take a seat for a minute, cool off, then we’ll talk, okay?" It wasn’t a suggestion so much as a gentle command. With Tim clinging to your side, sobbing into your swimsuit, now wasn’t the time to unpack Dick’s reaction. Without a word, he obeyed, flopping down beside Jason on the lounge chair and swiping the soda from his hand like it belonged to him.

Kneeling beside him, you gently tilted Tim’s face toward the light, inspecting the red mark blooming on his cheek. It would bruise, no doubt, but thankfully, it wasn’t serious. You leaned in to press a soft kiss to the tender spot, and his sobs began to ease into quiet, hiccuping whimpers.

“I know it hurts, sweetheart. But you’re going to be okay,” you murmured, brushing Tim’s damp hair back from his face as you lifted your hand to wave Alfred over. The older man approached swiftly but paused a respectful distance away, waiting for your cue.

“You’re going to go with Alfred now, alright?” you told Tim gently. “He’ll fix you up with some ice for that cheek. I bet he has a nice, cold popsicle with your name on it. How does that sound?”

Tim gave a small nod, his big blue eyes still glossy but no longer spilling tears. You smiled warmly, pressing one more kiss to his cheek before nudging him toward Alfred with a tender hand.

As they crossed the yard together, Tim’s hand in Alfred’s, they passed Bruce emerging from the house. He slowed, concern flickering across his face as he checked in on his son, exchanging a look with you that said plenty. Then he moved to join the rest of the group under the gazebo. 

You stayed by the pool for a moment longer, taking a deep breath to get your emotions in check. Mr. Wayne, dressed in a fine charcoal grey suit, had just returned from a board meeting. Earlier that morning, he had seemed annoyed about having to leave his kids on a Saturday, but now he was like a man in heaven.

Finally, you made your way over. 

When Bruce noticed you, his eyes scanned over every inch of your body like he was trying to see through your bathing suit. You felt a mixture of emotions in response: pride and intimidation. You’d never admit it out loud, but the blue one-piece you wore had been chosen with him in mind. It hugged the swell of your breasts and hips in just the right way. It was flattering without being overt, modest enough to pass for casual, but unmistakably intentional.

"Hello, Nan." The words came out low and warm, a private note in a public place. 

“Hello, Mr. Wayne.”

You forced yourself to shift your focus away from Bruce and back to Dick, who was still sulking beside Jason. With a steady breath, you walked over and pulled him to the side, speaking softly. You told him that while you understood why he reacted the way he did, hitting someone shouldn't be the first solution to a problem. Thankfully, he didn’t argue, and you were able to leave it at that.

Seconds later, Tim appeared with a red popsicle in his hand.

“Wait, I want a popsicle,” Cassandra exclaimed the second she saw it.

Duke added, “Me too!”

Tim looked back toward the house, then to his siblings. “Alfred gave it to me.”

Bruce, sensing the uprising before it could truly begin, spoke up. “Alright, everyone can have one.”

In an instant, the kids bolted toward the house, but you quickly reached out and caught Tim and Dick by the arm before they could vanish with the others.

“Hold on, you two,” you said firmly. “You need to apologize to each other.”

Both boys blinked. “What?” they echoed in disbelief.

You shook your head, glancing at Mr. Wayne, who watched on, before saying, “You both had a part in what happened. Dick, you need to apologize for hitting Tim. And Tim, you need to apologize for touching his bruise. You knew that would hurt.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Tim insisted. 

You gave him a look and put your hands on your hips. “Tim, if you're going to lie, at least try a little harder. I saw you.”

Tim's shoulders slumped as he stared down at the ground, his popsicle forgotten in his hand. After a moment, he peeked up at his brother through long lashes. “I’m sorry I touched your bruise and hurt you.”

You looked at Dick expectantly. He crossed his arms and muttered, “ Thank you…I’m sorry I slapped you.”

Relieved, you let out a soft sigh, the tension under the gazebo finally beginning to ease. “Good. You boys go join the others, I need to talk to your father.”

That, apparently, was enough to draw Bruce’s full attention. His posture shifted ever so slightly, his eyes following the boys as they sprinted off toward the house. You sat on one of the lounge chairs. Bruce followed suit, settling into the chair across from you, his expression unreadable. Somehow, not being able to know what he was thinking made it hard to think. 

“Everything okay, Nan?” He asked. 

You shook your head, exhaling through your nose. “Bruce, I’m worried about Dick.”

His brows drew together slightly. “Why?” 

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. There was no accusation in your tone, just concern, wrapped slightly in maternal instinct. As your thoughts swirled, your hand moved absentmindedly to your knee, brushing away a smudge of imaginary dust on the bare skin. 

Still, you kept your eyes on your leg rather than his face as you said softly, “Dick’s bruise, he said he told you about it.” Bruce nodded when you looked at him for confirmation, so you continued, “I don’t think he’s telling the whole truth. When he hit Tim, he seemed almost…scared.”

For a moment, Bruce’s face went completely still, almost stone-like. The sudden absence of emotion caught you off guard. You had just shared a genuine concern about his child, hinted at the possibility of something darker, and yet nothing. No flash of anger, no flicker of worry or grief. Just silence, unsettling in its neutrality.

“Bruce?” You reached over to touch his knee. 

His eyes dropped to your hand before finally meeting yours. He didn’t speak right away, not until you withdrew your touch. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice was calm but distant.

You narrowed your eyes, not angry, but not convinced either. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” you said gently. You could see it in his eyes. Like you had told Tim, if he was going to lie, he could have tried a little harder. 

Bruce stood, offering you a smile that felt a little too fake. “Nan, it’s fine. I’ll talk to him.”

And just like that, he turned and walked toward the house, leaving you under the shade of the gazebo.

It wasn’t enough. You knew it. But for now, you tried—tried—to let it go.

[thegreatimpersonator]

Heeey, if u dont wanna answer this that's fine! But just wondering what's Travis done? (Im not a fan or anything lol, legit curious). Now that i think about it, i think he's irl friends (like, outside of work) with that mahommes guy whose brother... well, trigerring topic but ye his brother's a piece of shit and that guy's wife im pretty sure defended the brother + is a trumpie💀. But i dont follow them/usamerican football so ive just heard about these things casually. I think there were also some weird tweets from years back? Guess i answered my own question lol. Wild the kcc also have that "women should stay home" at a uni graduation speech guy...

welcome to the materpost.

im making this so i can always have something to refer back to when people ask, and this isnt gonna include personal opinions as facts (like how i just find him very attention-seeking and annoying, that's just personal opinion) but it will cover all the main terrible things he's done as well as the bad stuff people he (and now taylor) voluntarily choose to associate with.

don't know where to begin so i'll just start from where i remember

people found his old tweets where he was ableist (making fun of autism and saying the r slur), fatphobic towards women, misogynistic and homophobic.

him along with the chiefs decided to visit trump at the white house in 2020, after many teams declined bc they didnt want to publicly associate with a fascist, but travis was down!

he then also got caught liking an instagram post about trump

he has said recently he would be going to visit trump again in the white house if they win the superbowl.

when asked about how he felt about Trump going to the Super Bowl and playing in front of him, he said it was “pretty cool” and “an honor”.

he also made a r*pe joke, (first part in the clip) he was asked what word turned him on and he said when women say 'no' and then laughed and he was "kidding".

in the second part of that same clip in the previous bullet point, he's also xenophobic! on a podcast he said "if you dont speak english, then what are you doing here (in america)" and then proceeded to laugh when the host says he tells them the wrong directions on purpose.

he also 'jokingly' (no one laughed) called women "breeders" when discussing what women he was interested in.

he, alongside the chiefs, stood in solidarity with Israel by doing a ‘moment of silence’ before a game. i know people are gonna try and find excuses for him by saying ‘he was just doing what his team did, what was he supposed to do, etc’ nonsense, but that implies he was forced and had no choice; which he did. he also could have spoken up about the genocide/palestine afterwards but he stood in solidarity with Israel and has silent ever since.

he has a history of violent temper tantrums, and no him being a football player isnt an excuse. men using violence to get through their emotions isnt something to be normalized. he has had multiple instances of extreme aggression, including a screaming match with his couch at last years Superbowl, screamed at a ref and threw his helmet, also punching his own teammate during practice, and punching opposing players during games.

he's best friends with machine gun kelly, they grew up together and have remained close to this day. MGK has been openly racist, misogynistic, has said he sees nothing wrong with sleeping with minors, etc.

he defended his teammate, harrison butker (who was the guy who gave the viral problematic commencement speech, saying "women should be most excited about their marriage and the children they will bring into this world" and "things like abortion, IVF, surrogacy, euthanasia, as well as a growing support for degenerate cultural values and media all stem from pervasiveness of disorder,” and called Pride Month “the deadly sin sort of pride,” and specifically criticized the LGBTQ community, which he claimed promotes “dangerous gender ideologies.").... anyway travis defended THAT guy, saying he cherishes him as a teammate and said "he is every bit of a great person and a great teammate." and said harrison treats everyone with "nothing but respect and kindness, we’re not always going to agree … but I understand the person that he is and he’s trying to do whatever he can to lead people in the right direction." Travis then said 'everyone has different opinions and that's what's great about this country'. he flat out said hating gay people and women are what make this country great.  

travis is also besties with known racist, morgan wallen (who got caught saying the n word, promised to donate money to charities fighting for racial justice and then just didnt), and joined him on stage last august. oh and travis was also wearing a harrison butker jersey during the concert... supporting him once again, just 3 months after his bigoted speech.

travis is also besties with the mahomes, now lets talk about him and taylors new besties they voluntarily love spending time with.

the main issue isnt really patrick mahomes (another player on the chiefs), it's brittany (his wife) and jackson (his brother)

jackson sexually assaulted a woman at a restaurant by grabbing her and forcibly kissing her. she reported the assault and he reportedly tried to bribe her into shutting up, but then she faced such harassment from his fans that the restaurant shut down and the case was dismissed despite video evidence of it happening.

brittany defended jackson and became a vocal assault apologist by saying "he is a human just trying to live his life and find his way and until you walk a day in his shoes (which no one ever will) you have no right to say shit about him".

last summer, brittany got called out for liking a post by trump where he outlined his plans for being president in 2025, including starting the largest deportation operation in history, zionist propaganda, and transphobic rhetoric about not wanting trans women in women's sports. she then defended it and doubled down vocalizing her supprt for trump.

brittany being transphobic about not wanting trans women in women's sports is deeply concerning due to the fact she is the co-owner of Kansas City Current, a team in the American professional top-division National Women's Soccer League.

[avsarchivez]

HEARTBEAT

Choi Su-Bong x fem!reader

SUMMARY :”You start calling, you start crying. I come over, I’m inside you.”

-

WARNINGS :cursing, smut, unprotected sex, oral (fem!receiving) mentions of domestic violence, mentions of beheading and murder, cigarettes/smoking, dirty talk, violent language, mentions of toxic relationship, that’s it?

-

A/N: im proud of this one, hope you enjoy. im so new to writing and im also failing english right now so be easy on me😭

-

The rain hammered against your window, matching the ache that had settled into your chest.

You sat on the sofa, fingers lingering over the faint bruise on your left eye. A parting gift from you now ex boyfriend, piece of shit.

You were no stranger to aggression. Your junkie ex-boyfriend had been a storm of it—shattering picture frames, smashing lamps, driving his fist through drywall. But he’d never hit you.

Sure, he’d hurl things your way or pin you against the wall, his hand grazing your throat with a careful pressure that never crossed into real harm. Not like this.

You hadn’t talked to him for 8 months, when you finally got tired of his bullshit. The drugs, the cheating, the fighting, it was all too much for you, no matter how good the sex was.

You’d been staring at your phone for minutes, thumb hovering over the call button, the wine on the coffee table sitting untouched. Finally, you swallowed your pride and pressed it.

You had no one else. Your mother would blow it out of proportion, and friends? Barely a handful. Except Se-mi, and you shuddered to think about what she’d do if she knew.

———

The phone rang three times before he picked up, his voice cutting through the line with a sharp edge. “Why the hell are you calling me?”

You clenched your jaw, already regretting this. “Can you not be an ass for once? I’m not in the mood.”

A heavy sigh crackled through the speaker. “Fine. What do you need?”

“You.” The word slipped out, fragile and small, and you hated how weak it made you sound. But the hurt was too deep to hide.

“Are you crying?” His tone shifted, still rough but tinged with something softer.

“Please, just come over.”

---

He’s knocking at your door immediately.

The knock’s more like a fist pounding the door down, and when you open it, Thanos fills the frame, rain soaked, leather jacket dripping, his purple hair glistening under the dim light, a cigarette loosely hanging from his mouth.

His dark eyes rake over you, locking on the bruise painting your left eye, and his mouth twists into a scowl.

“You look like shit, who fucked you up.”

“Thanks, just what I need to hear.” You step aside, letting him barge in. “Don’t start with me bitch.”

You scoff, “Joshua, it’s over now.”

He snorts, ripping off his jacket and chucking it on the hook like he still runs this place. “Over? Should’ve beat the shit outta him the second he looked at you wrong. Gimme an address.”

His voice is a growl, thick with venom, and you know he’d hurt him, no hesitation, he’s always been serious when it comes to you.

“Stop,” you snap, slamming the door shut. “I don’t need your psycho bullshit. Just stay here.”

He faces you, stepping in close, his figure crowding your space. You noticed he’s gotten quite bulk. His eyes flick to your wrist this time, a bruise peeking out, and his jaw clenches.

“Fuck that guy. He’s dead. You’re mine to deal with.”

“I’m not yours,” you fire back, but your voice wavers, and he catches it. His hand shoots out, grabbing your chin, not hard, but firm—tilting your face up to meet his glare.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he mutters, breath hot against your skin.

His hand cups your cheek— his thumb brushing gently over the bruise beneath your eye. Without hesitation, you reach up, plucking the cigarette from his lips and taking a slow, deliberate drag. “Fuck off.”

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, reverberating in his chest—a sound that has you pressing your thighs together beneath his grip. “Ooh, the princess has an attitude.”

His voice is all amusement, but there’s something else. Something that has you pressing your thighs together even harder, that has heat curling in your stomach. He notices, of course he does, and his smirk deepens.

“That’s cute,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Go on, then. Tell me to fuck off again.”

His grip on your cheek slides down to your throat, his fingers pressing just enough to make you swallow hard. He watches the movement sharply before his hand ghosts over your collarbone, teasingly. You hate the way your breath catches, the way your body reacts to his stupid games.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out, not when his other hand is already slipping under your shirt— rough fingertips grazing against the soft skin of your torso. The touch is light, infuriatingly so, and you bite your lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

He notices anyway.

His smirk deepens. “That’s what I thought.”

And then he’s on you—fast, decisive. His lips against yours, claiming, demanding. The cigarette falls from your fingers, forgotten as he pushes you back against the wall, he crushes the cigarette, ash spreading messily on the wood of the floor. His body presses against yours, firm and solid. His hands aren’t teasing anymore, they’re greedy, gripping your waist like he’s daring you to stop him.

You don’t.

Instead, you arch into him, hands tangling in his hair as he lifts you, hands firmly groping your ass as your legs wrap around his torso. He makes his way to your room, kicking the door closed before pushing you up against it.

His knee slots between your thighs, pressing just hard enough to make you shudder. You grip his shoulders, fingers digging in as you grind down, chasing the friction you need. He chuckles against your lips, the bastard, but his hands are already removing your shirt, calloused palms dragging over your bare skin, setting you on fire.

He places a kiss to your breast. “You’re already this desperate?” he taunts, breath warm against your skin. “I barely touched you.”

“Shut up,” you snap, but it comes out weaker than you mean it to, too breathy, too needy.

He grins, all sharp edges and arrogance. “Make me.”

And so you do. You tug him back in, biting at his lips, kissing him hard

Your back then meets the mattress, his mouth trailing down your throat, your collarbone, lower.

You shiver as his teeth graze your navel. He pulls ur shorts off aggressively, his hands grip your thighs and pull them apart, settling between them like he belongs there, before he moves your panties aside to the side. The first slow drag of his tongue against your clit is enough to rip a gasp from your lips, your fingers clenching tight in his hair.

“Su-bong..”

He groans against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. “Not so pissy anymore, huh señorita?”

You want to snap something back, but then he licks you again, this time adding two fingers, and all that comes out is a broken moan. His grip tightens, holding you in place as he works you apart, his tongue and fingers moving in a perfect rhythm .

He lets out a low groan. “You drive me crazy, babygirl.” Your body tightens, heat coiling, pleasure building too fast, too sharp. He feels it and doubles down, driving you higher, pushing you over the edge with ruthless efficiency.

Your vision goes white, your body shattering around him, your cry lost in the space between you.

By the time you come down, he’s crawling back up, tongue trailing over your torso, smirking when your back arches as you let out a low moan. When he kisses you, you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Still want me to fuck off baby?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes burning with something feral.

“As you wish, mama.” he murmurs, reaching down to undo his belt, his jeans hitting the floor a second later.

Your breath catches as he strokes himself, thick and already leaking at the tip. The sight of him alone has another rush of heat pooling between your thighs. He notices. Of course, he fucking notices.

He crawls over you, settling between your legs, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. He lines himself up, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, but doesn’t push in—not yet. Instead, he leans down, lips brushing against your ear.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement.

You exhale sharply, frustration curling in your gut. “I hate you.”

He grins, biting at your jaw as he pushes in just an inch before stopping. “Yeah?”

You dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in until he bottoms out in one slow, deep thrust. The stretch is overwhelming, the fullness almost too much, but fuck, it feels good, before he pulls back out.

“Ah, ah.” His breath shudders against your skin. “Beg me.”

“Please, please fuck me.” For a moment, he doesn’t move, before smirking and entering you smoothly. He lets you adjust, his grip on your hips tightening like he’s barely holding himself together. Then, finally, he pulls back and thrusts into you again, hard and deep.

Your moan is loud, shameless, and he eats it up, his pace picking up, his hips snapping against yours in a ruthless rhythm. He sits up for a second to take his shirt off before leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. The room is filled with the sound of skin against skin, the ragged mix of your breaths, the quiet, desperate moans you can’t hold back as he thrusts into you mercilessly.

He leans down , lips crashing over yours in another messy, bruising kiss, swallowing every sound you make, while his hands find your chest to rip your bra off. “Dude what the fuck? That was a $30 bra!”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his mouth moves to your breasts, tongue finding your nipples, swirling in wet, fast circles that have you spiraling toward the edge again.

“I missed this pussy. Fuckkk.” He groans.

“Come for me,” he growls against your lips, his voice raw. “Let me feel you.”

You do exactly that. The pleasure crashes over you, your cunt tightening around him, pulling him deeper as you come undone. He follows right after, his rhythm stuttering, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he spills inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you move, just breathing heavily, his body still pressed against yours. Then, finally, he chuckles, breathless and smug.

“Still hate me?” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw.

You roll your eyes, still catching your breath. “Ask me again after round two.”

His smirk returns, wicked and full of promise. He then flips you on your stomach. “Slut.”

————

[nite-puff]

ya’ll ever think about how mondo is a very romantic person who was forced to be aggressive??

not even just romantic as in like a physical attraction sort of romance (which yes that too. it’s canonically very easy for him to be down bad). like he has a lot of love for things. his friends, his gang, dogs, motorcycles. and he very openly shows that love. he goes on and on about them so passionately and with so much adoration. in his own special way.

and him being an artist is also very romantic to me. like guys. mondo’s an artist. he puts so much care into each of his works too. whether that be the embroidery on his jacket, the hand painted designs on his motorcycle, even his hair and makeup that he does everyday. that’s all art that he finds so precious and so integral to who he is. i know he thinks that becoming a carpenter will be when he starts making things instead of breaking them. but the truth is that he’s been lovingly making things this whole time.

he also loves doing things for and having intimate moments with the people he cares about. his relationship with taka is my best example of this, so i’m gonna stick to that. it’s very obvious that taka is a very important person in his life. and he constantly makes that clear to taka. like in that one utdp event they have together. mondo tells taka what he wants to do with his future in a way that feels very intimate and heartfelt, with them being alone in a classroom together. that moment is very much meant for the two of them, because mondo then goes on to thank taka for all his support throughout all the time they’ve known each other and then promises to build him a house someday. mondo let’s taka know that his love and support has not gone unnoticed and even promises to give him something very personal in return- a house that he built with his own two hands.

mondo just loves to be there for the people he cares about. he witnessed kiyotaka cry for his sake in the sauna and call him nice, so in return, he tries his hardest to be the best friend that taka never had. in the utdp, he sticks to training with chihiro and always makes sure to point out how much she’s improved and reminds her of how strong she truly is. he even stays up until the late hours of the night (late enough that he shows up to class late the next day because of how little sleep he got) talking to who we can assume is takemichi over the phone because michi was having a rough time and just needed someone to talk to. and mondo was, of course, more than willing to be that someone.

all that is to say. man that guy is really in touch with his feelings but was forced to express them in a way that was much more violent and aggressive. and that’s so much sadder when it’s so clear that he’d rather express those feelings differently. like he derives so much enjoyment from doing the things i just pointed out. like it sucks that things didn’t work out that way. god, mondo you’re so tragic and so loving.

[mia-can-yap-too]

Snow White and the Evil Queen

synopsis:- The Evil King, Kaiser, has just found out that some whimsy guy with skin as white as snow (not really), named Alexis Ness, is the finest shyt of them all! After some mid witchcraft, it is up to you, the princess, to save Snow Nes– I mean White.

warnings:- fluff, crack, mentions of witchcraft and poisoning, seven short gym bros, an ad break

🌸:- so the nonconsensual kissing of unconscious peoples in the OG story always weirded me out so theres obvious consent here, also no one is kissing unconscious people thats disgusting. also thank you so so much to @jeonwiixard for beta reading i love u ho

divider creds to @/uzmacchiato

A long while ago, back when people didn't have wifi, they used to spend almost all of their time in front of cursed mirrors instead. And by 'they' I mean Kaiser, The Infamous Evil King.

No one knew where he'd gotten the mirror. Some say he got it for 30% off at Walmart. In his defense, it seemed like a good deal.

Anyway, every day, he would ask his enchanted mirror the same question.

"Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the finest shyt of them all?"

And for years, the mirror lied comfortably, like a toxic best friend.

"Obviously you, King. Look at that winged eyeliner."

But then came a day when the mirror was particularly thirsty for drama.

"Actually... it's Ness. He was voted white boy of the month, don't blame me."

Hearing that made Kaiser so infuriated that he threw a Swarovski-encrusted goblet at the wall.

"WHAT?! NESS?! The stable boy with those god-awful Labubus?!"

The mirror flinched. "The forest aesthetic gave him mad aura. He glows now. He has thousands of followers on Faestagram. He even winked at that cute princess."

Kaiser scowled. "Fine! If he wants to be the finest, then he can be the deadest too!"

"That's not a word..."

Ignoring the mirror, Kaiser snaps his fingers. "Oh, Royal Huntsman! I summon thee!"

In came Isagi, looking as tired as ever. "Yes, Your Royal Pain-in-the-Ass?" he deadpanned.

Kaiser ignores that too.

"I need you to take care of a certain... stable boy for me. Take him into the woods and make sure he never comes back."

"You want me to kill Ness."

Kaiser shrugged. “Let the wolves have him. I don't care.”

“I thought you liked Ness.”

“I liked being prettier than Ness.”

“...You're insane.”

Kaiser grinned. It was almost maniacal. “And you work for me.”

Isagi sighed in a way that clearly showed how done he was with his shit.

“I need a new job.”

With the promise of views that would make for some bomb selfie backgrounds, Isagi lured Ness into the woods.

Ness twirled. “Wow, such fresh air! I feel radiant. This is doing wonders for my skin!”

“You're literally wearing perfume.”

“I prepared for this journey. It's called aesthetic.”

“You know you're supposed to be dead, right?”

Ness paused. “Like… metaphorically?”

Isagi pulled out a dagger.

Ness started screaming like a generic anime girl and threw a raccoon at him.

Chaos ensured.

Eventually, Isagi gave up, rubbed his temples and snapped, “JUST GO. Run into the woods. Hide in a cottage. I don't know. I don't care. I'll tell Kaiser you tragically tripped over your own narcissism and drowned in a puddle.”

Ness sniffled dramatically. “You… you're letting me live?”

“No. Isagi is a free elf, bitch.”

After a near death experience with some incredibly violent tree branches, Ness found himself at a suspiciously symmetrical cottage.

Outside, a sign read, ‘NO SKINNY LIFTERS.”

In the cottage, lived seven cursed gym bros, all once tall and hot, now short and beefy.

Their names were; Biceps, Triceps, Glutes, Back, Chest, Legs and Shoulders. They even had a cat named ‘Pre-Workout’.

Ness, of course, stumbled inside. Ah, you can't take him anywhere!

The seven short, aggressively-jacked men were all shirtless, and glistened with sweat. They were all doing various workouts while Taylor Swift's ‘Bejeweled’ played in the background.

“...Did I die and go to gay Valhalla?”

Bicep paused mid-plank. “You're not protein.”

Chest scowled at the trail of glitter Ness left behind. “And you're shedding sequins on our yoga mats! We use those for pilates, you know!”

Glutes gasped. “Is he injured? Or just that radiant??”

“I swear to John Cena if this is another cursed royal…,” started Shoulders.

Ness clutched his pearls. “I am not cursed! I'm persecuted! And I've walked for hours. My fresh manicure broke! A squirrel threw an acorn at me!”

Glutes looked over to his frat brothers with his large doe eyes. “Can we keep him? Please?”

Legs sighed. “Can he cook?”

“Can he spot?”

Ness perked up. “I can make a divine mushroom omelet! And I sparkle when I cry.”

All seven gym bros turned to each other, and nodded slowly.

“He may stay.”

You were a wandering princess who heard rumors of ‘a boy finer than the king and dumb enough to trust raccoons', so naturally your first instinct was to investigate.

You found Ness dramatically pretending to faint in a meadow. He fluttered his lashes when you touched his shoulder.

“Oh, dear Princess!” he cried out with a hand to his temple. “I think I have been poisoned! By jealousy!”

You blinked. Then sniffed. Then sniffed again.

“Is that Bleu de Chanel I smell on you?”

Suddenly the world became dark. A single spotlight shone down on Ness as jazz played faintly in the background.

He flipped his hair in slow motion. Water droplets came out of nowhere.

In his hand was a bottle of perfume, which he held gently as he stared into an imaginary camera.

He spoke in an obnoxiously french accent. “Pride by LGBTQ. Wear your colors.”

Everything went back to normal after that.

“Um… what the fuck was that?” you asked.

Ness chuckled, his voice going back to normal. “It was a sponsorship. I'm an influencer, honey, how do you think I pay my bills?” (a/n:- this is a joke, there are no sponsors <- for legal purposes)

“Oh, okay,” you were already used to the weirdness in fairytales from experience, so you didn't let it get to you.

Then just as you thought nothing weird was gonna happen again, a shadow fell over the meadow once again.

“Step away from her.”

It was Kaiser, emerging from the fog like he paid the weather to match his mood. Which wasn't that unlikely now that I think about it. Anyway, his cloak was billowing. Rings glinting. Hair slicked back with excessive amounts of rage and hair gel.

“Really?” you deadpanned. “Witchcraft? Again? Micheal, we've talked about this.”

He looked at you with stormy eyes and his mouth twisted into a pout. He ignored Ness entirely. “You should've picked me.”

“You literally tried to murder a man with a fruit basket! I mean, look at him!” You shoved Ness’ face towards him. “Does he look like he can do any bad thing ever?”

“Darling, he winked at you! The audacity!”

You rolled your eyes. “And you tried to turn a forest into an ice biome because I said I liked winter.”

“I was being festive.”

Before anyone could throw hands or poisoned apples, the gym bros appeared. All shirtless and oiled up and holding tree logs as dumbbells.

“Who's threatening the sparkle twink?”

Kaiser squinted. “What the… Why are they so small?”

“We got cursed at a rave,” muttered one.

Chaos nearly broke out until Ness, sensing a romantic climax, gasped, clutched his chest and dramatically collapsed into a fake coma.

“Only a true love's kiss can save me!” he wailed pre-collapse. “Just saying!!”

Everyone turned to you, the hero in this story.

You, who had never signed up for this nonsense, sighed, knelt and leaned in.

Only to be yanked back by Kaiser.

He growled, “If you kiss him, I'll…I'll hex the moon!”

You stared him down. “And if I kiss you?”

Silence.

Even the birds stopped singing.

“...Then I'll burn every mirror in the kingdom and let you ruin me,” he replied way too fast to be nonchalant.

Ness sat up, offended. “HEY—”

You kissed Kaiser cuz well, who could resist?

It was electric, ridiculous, and lowkey kind of hot if you ignored all the gym bros watching.

Somewhere in the distance, the cursed mirror exploded in protest. It was just that good.

Kaiser pulled back, dazed. “I forgive Ness for existing.”

You smirked. “You're welcome.”

In the end, Ness became a loved forest influencer with 2.7 million followers, the gym bros embraced their dwarfism and opened up a gym named Flex and Hex available to fae of all heights and you and Kaiser ruled together, with him making laws out of pettiness and you vetoing 70% of them.

And you all lived happily ever after.

taglist:- @jeonwiixard @lizbix @alexisjusthere @saeyari @pinkymangacaps @sleepy-waffle @rayne-rayne-go-away @fromsaltandsea @kaikaidenkai @l0v3ly-st4rs @annawrites444 @byzantiumhollow @blu3-l0v3r

Once Upon A Prince — Masterlist

Previous — Ice King Rin

[lordprettyflackotara]

snakelike || mattheo riddle

smut. 18+. minors dni. hate fucking. enemies to lovers trope. that’s it. it’s just that. bahaha enjoy ;)

Gryffindor.

Known for bravery, courage, and loyalty. These were supposed to be the core traits. Maybe they were for most Gryffindors. But the most defining trait Mattheo saw in you was something more. If it weren’t so defiant he would’ve questioned your house placement. You were known for your fucking nerve. You had the nerve to terrorize anyone who crossed you or stood in your way.

Mattheo knew this first hand, being your number one competitor. The two of you went head to head in quidditch, a permanent scowl stitched across your face everytime a green uniform stepped onto the field. To your displeasure they had won this year’s championship, winning the house cup along with the final quidditch match. Mattheo felt like he was making history, whilst being able to shove his victory in your face at the same time.

Oh, was it so bittersweet. The satisfaction of seeing your unscathed rage and envy. The downside? The subtle fear that lingered in the back of his mind. The fear that somehow someway, he knew you’d get him back.

In celebration of winning it all the Slytherins decided to throw a party. Exclusively Slytherins only, obviously. Usually they’d extend their invitation to other houses, a flirty Blaise Zabini a major advocate for ‘meeting new people.’ But tonight? All of the house members were buzzing with excitement, the ability to fully let loose creating quite a stir. Of course winning quidditch wasn’t the old fashioned way, playing fair and all. He honestly figured Madam Hooch would catch on. But she didn’t and Mattheo got away with whispering a few jinxes.

The smell of muggle grass and booze laced the air, violating the nostrils of every attendee. Mattheo silently thanked himself for choosing Blaise as the designated DJ, cringing at the memory of Lorenzo playing classical music at their last get together. His eyes glanced across the crowd of swaying bodies, searching for Theo or Draco. He was in the mood for a shot, but opted to be waiting so he could celebrate the houses victory with his best friends.

Mattheo thought he was getting intoxicated from the air when a flash of red walked by him. He narrowed his eyes, blinking a few times and trying to settle his vision through the flashes of blinding lights. A firm hand grabbed his shoulder, causing him to grab the strangers wrist and twist it. “Holy fuck dude, what the fuck?” Theo hissed. Mattheo instantly dropped his wrist, his green eyed friend raising his eyebrows at him. “Who pissed in your cheerios?” He seethed, rubbing his wrist. Mattheo awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, thought I saw a flash of red in here,” Mattheo explained. Theo chuckled, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “No lions will be wondering into the snake den tonight Riddle,” He replied, extending the pack to him. Logically he was right, the appearance of a Gryffindor one even you wouldn’t be as bold to make. Mattheo took a cigarette from Theo’s pack, the two taking a brief moment to light the heads.

“Malfoy’s over by pool table. I think he’s trying to show Greengrass his skills,” Theo said, rolling his eyes. The two walked side by side, crowds departing to give them room to walk. Mattheo Riddle was well known and respected, whether anyone wanted to admit it or not. If it wasn’t enough being the dark lords son, his aggressive and violent nature built a reputation by itself. Mattheo was finally able to relax as the tobacco swirled around his lungs, creating comfort as he exhaled through his nostrils.

The pool table was a muggle sport, one Pansy insisted the group give a shot after spending an evening playing it with Hermione Granger. After managing to get one in the Slytherin common room, it became a regular spot for Mattheo and his friends. Before the duo could arrive, a frantic Pansy stood before them. “Hey guys I think we should go do shots! Why don’t we go do shots?” She suggested, smiling nervously. Mattheo glanced at Theo, the two communicating telepathically.

“Pans, what’s wrong?” Theo questioned. The short girl laughed awkwardly, placing her hands on both boys chest. “Nothing! Seriously though let’s go this way,” Pansy encouraged, trying to guide the boys in the opposite direction. That’s when Mattheo heard it, the sound of your beautiful laughter. His ears twitched, his eyes flickering upwards towards the pool table. “Son of a bitch,” He muttered, pushing past Pansy.

Theo and Pansy trailed behind him, recognizing the shit storm that was about to occur. You were bent over the side of the pool table, a red dress complimenting your curves. Your lips were painted the same shade of red, curled up in a smile as a familiar face guided you with the pool stick. Lorenzo stood behind you, your body’s connected as his hands sat over yours. Your eyes flickered up to Mattheo’s, soaking in his facial expression of rage.

“Hi Riddle,” You greeted, hitting one of the pool balls into the pocket with ease. Lorenzo grinned, leaning back and grabbing the pool stick from your hand. “See? I told you that you’d be a pro in no time,” He said encouragingly. Mattheo looked between the two of you, racking his brain for an explanation. “A lion cub wondering into a snake den wasn’t the wisest decision, don’t you think?” Mattheo spat, lacing his words carefully. The only conclusion he could draw, based on the goofy grin on Lorenzo’s face, was that his friend was oblivious, naive, and an idiot.

“I’d be careful disrespecting a pride’s leader Riddle. Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt,” You purred, batting your eyelashes mockingly. Pansy and Theo exchanged glances, attempting to anticipate Mattheo’s next move. He was boiling was rage, your stupid red dress only igniting the flame further. “Can’t we all just have a good time guys? After all, it’s a celebration isn’t it?” Lorenzo suggested, sipping his red solo cup. Mattheo inhaled more of his cigarette, flicking away the ashes onto the dreaded pool table. The table that, at this current moment, was the bane of his existence.

Lorenzo frowned at the sight of the ashes. “Hey you’re going to ruin the game, you’ve got to give up cigarettes,” He said, handing the pool stick back to you. Mattheo took one last deep inhale, a naive Lorenzo placing his red solo cup on the edge of the table. “Alright, i’ll start now,” He agreed, shoving the bud of his cigarette in his red solo cup. The sizzle of the flame was music to Mattheo’s ears, his lips curling up in a devilish grin. Lorenzo’s face twisted in disgust, going to take a step towards Mattheo.

Mattheo was never one to shy away from a fight, even if it was one of his moron friends. You quickly stepped in between them. “Enough of this petty shit. Get out of here Riddle,” You spat, glaring up at the tall Slytherin. For a brief moment, when you weren’t running that mouth of yours, Mattheo consciously thought to himself you were quite pretty. “I’ll leave, but you’re coming with me little cub. Otherwise the next time I put out my cigarette it’ll be on his forehead,” Mattheo snarled, glaring at the man behind you.

You gritted your teeth, grabbing Mattheo’s wrist harshly. “You wanna play? Fine. Let’s play,” You grumbled, digging your nails into his skin. You dragged him through the crowd, a Gryffindor dragging Mattheo around an impossible sight. You dragged him over to the closest room, tossing him inside. Mattheo didn’t know the owner of this dorm room, but he was pleased to see it was empty.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind coming here,” Mattheo growled. You audibly scoffed, folding your arms. “Guess i’m joining you then, considering you lost yours when you decided to jinx my fucking broom!” You argued. Mattheo’s hardened gaze temporarily fell, shock briefly washing over his features before he swiped it away. “I may not be a Ravenclaw but i’m not stupid. You’re just lucky I found out long after the game,” You huffed. Mattheo hadn’t anticipated this outcome, your intelligence a trait he had underestimated.

“Why didn’t you snitch to madam hooch?” Mattheo questioned. He eyed you carefully, your small figure much more intimidating than before. “I figured riding your best friends face would work far more sufficient,” You quipped, grinning mischievously. Mattheo was on you in a flash, shoving you against the closest wall. His hands pinned you against the dark wood, his face inches from yours. “You fucking slut,” He growled. You glared up at him, your eyes briefly flickering down to his soft lips.

You couldn’t deny how attractive he was, the smell of cigarettes and cologne flooding your nostrils. You could faintly smell his conditioner from his head full of curls, his hair having grown a bit longer than the last time you had seen it. “Fuck you Riddle,” You spat weakly, your heart beginning to race. Tensions were rising quickly, the close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. “Dont fuck with me princess, i’ll reach in that pretty little chest of yours and pull your heart out,” Mattheo huffed. He could feel adrenaline running through his veins, an odd mixture of rage and lust falling over him.

Your eyes, usually so fierce and viscous, seemed to be softening. Your pupils were blown, a familiar gaze of lust having fallen over your features. A silent war took place, one where neither of you wanted to make the first move. Heavy breathing ensured, fast heart beats, and intense eye contact were the only things stopping you from ripping each other apart.

You grabbed handfuls of his shirt, yanking his lips to yours. A rough clashing of teeth and tongues ensued, Mattheo’s hands quick to find your waist. He yanked you towards him, the taste of cigarettes and mint lacing your tongue as you both fought for dominance. You couldn’t give in to him. You couldn’t let him think he was in control. You pushed him towards the bed, struggling to reach your back zipper. “Having trouble princess?” Mattheo asked mockingly, smirking down at you. You tried to reach the zipper, straining your arm to do so.

“Shut it Riddle,” You snapped, face growing red with embarrassment. Fuck were you adorable. He reached around you, slowly pulling your zipper down. You could feel heat surging through your cheeks as your dress fell, leaving you almost fully exposed. You were a sight for sore eyes, Mattheo’s refusing to stray from you. “And to think you were hiding all of this under quidditch gear,” He mumbled, soaking in your figure. You rolled your eyes, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“If you keep up all of this talking i’m going to change my mind. I’m not here for your witty comments Riddle,” You spat, your attention focused on undoing his button. He grabbed your wrist firmly, bringing you a mere inch away from his face. “You and that fucking mouth. If you want me to make you cum you’re going to get on your knees and put that mouth to good use,” Mattheo growled. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip at the sound of his words. You controlled every aspect of your life, even if you didn’t want to.

Someone so toxic, someone you despised, calling the shots turned you on beyond belief. You sank to your knees, undoing Mattheo’s belt. “There we go, that’s a good girl,” He praised. You pulled down his slacks, yanking down his boxers with them. His cock was bigger than you expected, your eyes widening in visible shock. “Weasley’s can’t compete with me, can they?” Mattheo asked mockingly. His taunting words snapped you out of your trance, your eyes shooting daggers up at him. You licked the underside of his shaft, purposefully dragging your tongue painfully slow.

Mattheo tried to conceal a groan, his hand automatically flying to your hair. He bit his bottom lip as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his slit. “Fucking shit,” He huffed. He pushed you down further onto his cock, your thighs tightening at the sensation. The feeling of being used was enticing enough. The feeling of being used by your arch rival, the same one you insult on the quidditch field, was euphoric.

You forced your jaw to go slack, encouraging him to face fuck you. Mattheo looked down at you with proud eyes, admiring his cock in your mouth. “You are so pretty like this, fuck,” Mattheo groaned. He bucked his hips inside of your mouth, gripping a handful of your hair. His cock abused your throat, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth and pooling onto the floor. You finally gagged, the sound music to Mattheo’s ears. He smirked down at you, finally pulling out of your mouth to give you air.

“You’re so pathetic, on your knees for me like a whore,” He snickered. Tears were flooding your waterline, your doe eyes admiring Mattheo from below. You quickly rose to your feet, pushing him back against the bed. “You and that fucking tongue,” You muttered. You quickly stripped yourself of your bra and panties, both of you rushing to take off Mattheo’s shirt. Your eyes briefly studied the scars that stained his chest, different than the ones that covered his face.

For a brief moment Mattheo could see empathy flicker across your face, before your eyes went up to his. “This tongue has gotten me more places than yours ever could,” He bickered weakly, your exposed breast and cunt making his mouth water. Electricity was buzzing between the two of you, your hips straddling him. You rubbed your folds up and down his shaft, earning a moan from the brunette below. “You didn’t think i’d let you fuck me without putting that tongue to good use, right?” You asked mockingly.

You quickly repositioned yourself hovering over Mattheo’s face. His large hands cupped your ass, bringing you closer to his mouth. You let out a string of curses as his tongue began lapping at your cunt, teasing your hole and swirling around your clit. “Fucking shit, fuck Mattheo,” You whined, gripping and pulling at his chocolate curls. Mattheo gripped your ass harder, purposefully squeezing the flesh as rough as you were pulling his hair. In a swift motion he flipped you around, your back hitting the mattress below as Mattheo made himself comfortable between his legs.

He brought two fingers to your dripping entrance. “Interesting how wet this tongue has made you, isn’t it?” Mattheo asked, smirking as your walls eagerly accepted his digits. You groaned in response, your hips bucking upwards as his fingers curled inside of you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to hide any of the sinful noises that threatened to escape your lips if you broke composure. Mattheo noticed, his fingers stopping right as they brushed against your g spot.

“You better start moaning my name or i’ll stop. Wanna hear those pretty sounds,” He threatened. You whined as you grinded pathetically against his fingers, his digits finally curling again. “Please please please,” You pleaded, a knot tightening in your stomach with each pump. Mattheo sucked at the skin in between your thighs harshly, creating small hickies on the sensitive skin. “Thats it, keep begging for me,” He chuckled, relishing in the sight of you pleading for him. You were at his mercy, his will for once. And fuck was it a satisfying position to be in.

Mattheo began drawing sloppy circles around your clit with his thumb, your fingers entangling themselves deeper into his curls. “Matty i’m gonna cum-” You warned, an unholy moan escaping your throat as you released on his fingers. That nick name. That fucking nick name. Mattheo finger fucked you through your high, the feeling of you cumming for him and moaning that nick name made his heart thump harder. Slowly he pulled his fingers out of you, repositioning himself above you. You looked dazed, your vision settling as his brown eyes stared down at you.

“Still think you can handle me princess? You look pretty fucked out to me,” Mattheo asked, playing with a strand of your hair. You blinked a few times, your vision settling on a cocky Mattheo. “You wouldn’t last a minute fucking me Riddle, don’t get too cocky,” You replied. Mattheo’s smirk fell, his hands quick to roughly reposition you. You arched your back as soon as you registered you were on all fours, your ass high in the air for Mattheo’s viewing. He bit his bottom lip as he gripped the flesh, bringing his tip to your aching cunt.

He rubbed his shaft up and down your folds, collecting your slick as you whimpered beneath him. He quickly shoved himself inside of you, not bothering to take things slow. You wanted rough? He’d show you fucking rough. “Dont pussy out on me, you can take it can’t you princess?” Mattheo purred. The pain began mixing with pleasure as he jerked his hips into yours, brushing against your g spot. “Fuck you Riddle,” You spat, trying to hold on to some sense of dignity. Mattheo leaned over, his voice assertive, “Oh I will.”

His time of being nice was over, his hips rutting into yours like a wild animal. You couldn’t control your moans as he fucked you, his cock mercilessly abusing your cunt to Mattheo’s liking. “Feels so so g-good Matty,” You whined. His large hand flew down to your hair, grabbing a handful and yanking it towards him. “Lorenzo couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?” Mattheo asked roughly. You responded with incoherent babbles and curses, his cock continuing to slam inside of you.

A sharp slap landed on your ass, causing you to snap out of your haze. “I asked you a question slut,” He huffed. You were so fucking pretty like this, begging for more underneath him. If he had known you were this tight, this addicting, he would’ve done this a long time ago. “No he couldn’t, only you,” You babbled, whimpering as he released your hair. Your mind went blank as he fucked you, any feelings of resentment and hatred fading away with each thrust.

He may have ruined your chances at winning the house cup, but fuck did he make you feel good. Mattheo was pounding you into the bed, strings of curses with mixtures of your name leaving his lips as he harshly gripped your waist. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your walls squeezing him tighter. “Awe are you gonna cum before me? Really? That’s quite pathetic,” Mattheo huffed, sensing your oncoming orgasm. Warnings of your impending release were made, Mattheo’s thrust becoming impossibly faster.

“Fucking hold it, wanna cum with you, cum with me,” He panted, his cock twitching just in time. You grabbed handfuls of the sheets as you came on his cock, milking him dry for every last drop of his seed. You could feel his warm cum painting your cunt, his cock still buried inside of you. Mattheo didn’t want to leave your cunt, his heart feeling like it was going to burst inside of his chest. Slowly he pulled out of you, readjusting you gently. It felt odd, Mattheo’s fingertips grazing your skin as if you were fragile.

You rolled over onto your back, Mattheo laying beside you. “That wasn’t half bad Riddle,” You say, halfway attempting at a compliment. Mattheo smirked down at you, wrapping his arm around you. He brought you closer, pretending he didn’t notice your cheeks flush red. “Call me Matty,” He replied. A peaceful silence filled the room for a moment, the only audible sound being both of your breathing. It wasn’t in Mattheo’s nature to stay quiet for long, his next words leaving his lips without a second thought:

“That was pretty snakelike what you did, sneaking in here just to spite me. You sure you weren’t placed in the wrong house?”

“Shut it Matty.”

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

I was talking to my mutual about Cole when I had a surge of Thoughts so per usual you all have to hear them now. I was considering a couple things, namely his development and place as the "strong guy" on the team and his masculinity (and how it presents in the show vs in fanon).

Cole's pretty often typecast as the gruff strong guy in a lot of fan-media (from fanfics to fanart etc) which isn't wrong because he was like that, especially within the early seasons. The way he spoke, the way he acted, his place as a sort of leading force. In season three you even see him in that stupid lumberjack fit (said affectionately), it's all very traditionally masculine. Which fits his whole Strong and Big guy of the team role (the five man band archetypes etc etc). However, it's interesting to say because at his core, he's very emotional and very driven by a strong sense of internal compassion (with a canonical affinity to children). Which obviously none of that is opposed to masculinity but these traits begin to show more as the gruffness pulls back. The first real example of that I think is in ToE with his fight with Jay. I don't read him as being invested in their fighting the same way Jay was. Jay was fueled by insecurity and a very strong sense of jealousy and possessiveness. Cole? I think he was just reacting to Jay's aggression, which didn't put Nya in a better position but it is a difference. 

So when their match rolls around, he's the first one to realize what they're doing is stupid and give in. He reaches out emotionally to Jay. However, Jays still is a friend so that is easy to write off as a symptom of friendship. And then following ToE we have possession and DOTD which I think are where he really begins to develop, and have the strongest examples of what I'm getting at. I'm going out on a limb and saying that I really see his prior gruffness as a sort of armor, to be good enough for the team (insert that one Wu note of him staying up late before missions) and also there his whole rebellious streak against his father trying to force him to be someone he's not. (Note: I wouldn't be surprised if how Lou raised him really had a impact on all this) Then, we get to Possession and both his self worth and self image are shook badly by literally dying. He outright says he's not a ninja anymore, which I think he based a lot of who he was on (<- which is why struggling with it hit so hard).

Finally DOTD comes up and I think we see the strongest example of where his compassion really become a core trait. It's his fight with Yang. He had no reason to reach out to him, to be honest he had the right not to, but he did and it worked! He didn't get out of DOTD in the end with brute force, he got out of it with emotional support (his team showing up), a stubborn adherence to his moral code, and reaching out to Yang with empathy. From that point on, I think he's softer and more prone to being emotional, it's like there was a very real shift. To circle back to Jay, because I think he makes for a good comparison, he does not develop like that post ToE. Actually, the issues carying from s3 (though, they do exist prior just not as starkly) all the way to Skybound where it gets violently (literally) addressed. Jay fans can probably say it better than me but the season is about his insecurity and treatment of Nya and there's a reason both Nadakhan and Cliff are like that (read: they're parallels). It's just interesting because both Cole and Jay have issues with self worth and image but they present and develop very differently. 

There's also the fanon aspect with those two that's really funny. I think everyone's aware of the infamous fanon-bruise, the 2010s-yaoification. Uwu Jay, Big Strong Man Cole, and how weirdly racist it is. It's just funny to note because the issues projected onto Cole in fanon are ones Jay has, like, in the show. Cole's the more emotional and compassionate one of the two, but because of the strong guy role, it gets flipped around in fanon. Going by the 'traditional' (read: toxic) masculine standards, in terms of personality and character, I think Jay more closely aligns. It reminds me of this post I saw once, it was of Hunted where Jay was making the plane (?) and Cole was with baby Wu. It called Jay the 'mom' and Cole the 'dad' which I find kind of funny because if you look at it through that hetero-normative lense, it really should be the other way around. Cole's the one caring for the baby pretty consistently, Jay's the one making a machine and Working. Did Jay just get called the 'mom' there because people think of him as smaller and weaker and therefore more feminine? Did Cole get called the dad just because he's strong and considered bigger? It's interesting. Fanon does Cole really dirty sometimes.

To get back on topic of Cole's narrative development, then we get to MOTM (like a bajillion years later which no I'm not complaining except I am). Cole's characterization in MOTM is so fucking good. MOTM does a fantastic job at tying together several of his strings. It ties in Lilly, his self esteem, his staunch morality, affinity towards leadership, and compassion into one, pretty bow. MOTM puts Cole back into a leading role, and it gives him several groups to reach out to (Vania, the munce and geckle, the uppily). It draws back the insecurity present in him, letting it show again to be addressed. It even ties in his relationship to Wu in a really lovely way to me. MOTM is the season where Cole finds who he is, his identity and his place as his mothers son.

Speaking of that, I have a very strong love for male characters who exemplify who their mothers were and what they taught them. The scenes with Lilly really put his entire character into a different perspective. At the start he was this tough kid fresh off grief and pressurized so strongly by his dad and himself and he goes through loops and hurdles of strength and identity and by the end he finds himself exactly where he needs to be. Where he's the strongest and it's in his mothers footsteps, as someone both emotional and strong. It's a really lovely character arc to take him on, and though I haven't watched DR, I've heard they continue that on. 

Anyways, consider it positive masculinity, consider it anything else. I just had a lot of thoughts to share and hope I don't sound too 'reading-too-deep' about it. Bye bye Kar ramble over.

[mariespen]

Seek me Out - Chapter 1 𓇢𓆸

Chapter 1 - Look at Me Warnings: dark!rafe, obsessive!reader, threats and violence (not to reader), swearing, stalking, manipulation Summary: "But none of them had the appeal you saw in Rafe, none of them gave you the same high as falling for him did." Series Masterlist

Rafe Cameron carried quite the toolbox of unappealing attributes. It was never hard for you to admit this, however, there was always a ‘but..’ One thing that you can pinpoint, one thing that made him desirable beyond your right mind. This time, the ‘but’ was, 

“But he’s so hot.” You said shamelessly, gossiping with your friend Jess at the country club.

You’ve been crushing on Rafe for months, speaking so openly about it because; who cares? If this got back to Rafe and he’d found out you were his secret admirer from afar, it’s probably for the better. A quick rejection would probably only throw you off the rails for a few weeks, opposed to the countless that you’ve spent sitting, watching, obsessing.

“You need to move on girl.” Jess interrupted your focus, redirecting it from his heavenly body and back onto the mimosa in front of you.

“I think this is actually killing me.” You muttered, resting your head in your hands, trying to seem ultimately defeated. However, deep down, you knew that Rafe was yours.

“He’s sucking the life out of you and he doesn’t even know your name.” Jess retaliated, shaking her head as she took a sip of her own drink.

“He totally does, I know he dreams about me.” 

Jess rolled her eyes at your fantasy, trying endlessly to snap you out of this phase. Away from your own world, you knew that whatever she was telling you was good advice. Jess had known Rafe since they were kids, since before you moved to the island. She’s hesitant to tell you about the real extent of his violent tendencies, the bullets he’s put through bodies, and the punches he’s thrown for nothing but his own satisfaction. Jess has begged you for months to get over him, she’s tried to turn you towards at least 15 different guys. But none of them had the appeal you saw in Rafe, none of them gave you the same high as falling for him did.

Of course, at this moment, unbeknownst to you, Rafe is golfing a few holes from where you sit on the balcony. Naturally, he’s broken a club already. He was an angry person, turning to his craving of aggression whenever he got the chance. Rafe’s friends walked and talked like they were going to break him, and maybe that’s what pissed him off every day. But no matter what, Rafe Cameron was always angry.

The truth was, he did know your name. Not to say you ran laps in his head, but you’ve crossed his mind more than once. Mostly perverse, as most men ended up thinking when they saw your perfect body in the most revealing bikini you could muster up. One the occasion, he’ll see you lounging in the country club with your friends and his eyes would widen at the intricate beading on your dress, small things that you did to gather attention. Of course, he didn’t mean it as deeply as you wanted him to. 

Later that night you found yourself on your private beach, gazing out at the water with one earbud in and one ear to the waves. Your eyes were nearly unblinking as you soaked up the sunset while you could. It was beautiful, really, the way that you could fit yourself into any corner of your mind and cover your body with the rose-colored blanket of fantasy. 

Tonight, you were idly thinking about him defending you, just as you would always fall back to. Rafe’s strong, toned body protects you, acting as the knight in shining armor that you so desperately wanted him to be. Your mind consumed you, just enough for you to ignore the small crashing noises coming from the vacant house next to yours, divided by sand dunes.

Only awakened by the sound of his truck, always so notably different from the others. The engine caused your ears to tense, suddenly on high alert. Then, his voice, so painfully muffled by the wind and the soft notes playing in your ear. Immediately, you sat up and pulled out the earbud, standing and hiking the small mountain of sand dunes to get a discreet view of the neighboring house.

From your place through the palm trees, you could only see the bodies of the pogues. You rolled your eyes, knowing they were always obnoxiously breaking the rules, claiming to be on  some deep journey. You couldn’t care less, but then you heard it again. The disembodied voice of Rafe Cameron, speaking much clearer now.

“Get the fuck out of here!” He yelled, and then you saw him, cornering the group at the shallow waves.

They straggled for an excuse to be lounging at a house for sale on figure eight, but Rafe wasn’t having any of it. He seemed to get more aggressive, BUT, he looked so beautiful in the golden sun. That’s what you focused on when he reached for his gun, famously in the waistband of his shorts. Ignorance was your only bliss as you watched him fire shots into the air, speaking to them with his large hand around JJ’s neck.

“I’ll fucking kill you, do you realize that? So fucking stupid, I’d be doing us all a service, huh Kie? It’s my charity work!” He yelled, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin.

So you focused on his biceps instead of how they were making JJ’s face slowly go blue. When he dropped JJ to the ground like he was worthless, you watched him crack his knuckles rather than the way the body slumped on the sand. You half-listened as the panicked Rafe screamed that no one would believe them over him, that there were no witnesses to the assault. JJ sputtered on the ground, choking on his own strangled spit.

Your place in the dunes began to feel compromising, your rose colored glasses dimming as you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the loaded gun Rafe was suddenly holding to John B’s skull. Relief washed over you as all of the pogues ran, escaping the barrel of Rafe’s unforgiving anger. Then, it was you and him. Of course, he didn’t know that you were watching the ordeal, and he didn’t notice your eyes as he sat on the beach, looking out at the waves with regret. 

The sound of sand and grass moving in sync stirred Rafe from his trance as he got a glimpse of you slowly moving from the sand dunes, suddenly craving the safety of your bedroom. A jolt of fear (and something hotter) struck you as you heard him, loud and clear, calling your name. You turned, watching as he climbed the sand dunes to get closer to you, a pale and enraged look on his face.

“Oh! Rafe! So funny seeing-“ You started, but he cut you off quickly.

“Be fucking honest, how much of that bullshit did you see.” He said, his voice deep and his intentions dark.

“Um.. all?” You said, trying to ease the situation with a small shrug, but he grabbed your shoulders with a new sense of anger and desperation.

“You- you do not tell anyone, you hear me? Fuck..” Rafe said, trying to stabilize himself and hold you to your spot in the sand.

“Yeah.. yeah. I won’t I promise.” You said, your voice higher pitched and sweeter as your stomach churned with conflicting emotions.

Maybe it was the way your lips shined in the sun, or how your hair frames your face, or even the way you looked at him. That’s what you liked to focus on when reviewing the moment, watching his smirk replaying in your mind. But really, Rafe knew it was the fearful and obsessive look in your eyes that pulled him in.

“I’m gonna keep an eye on you, hold you to your secret, yeah sweetheart? Can’t have you spilling your guts.” His voice was poison to your ears, and you were soaking it all in.

“Yeah.. of course.” Your voice was timid, afraid. 

He loved it.

[manyimaginativemuses]

He Ate My Heart - Remmick/OC - Chapter 5

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of former child abuse/parental abuse, firearm usage, crazy sibling dynamics

Read on AO3!

————————————-

“So Maeve… who’s the guy we keep seeing leaving your house every night?” Liam asked nonchalantly as the five of them sat around the dinner table. Maeve nearly choked on her food when she heard her brother’s question.

“What? What guy? What are you talking about?” She scoffed, trying to play it off only to have John laugh loudly in response.

“Oh please, you’re a horrible liar and we all know it. Declan saw him with his own eyes leaving your porch this morning when he went to check on the sheep. Kinda short, brown hair, suspenders, ring any bells?” John called her out and Maeve swallowed the bite she had in her mouth, shaking her head.

“I’ve got no clue what you mean.” She replied with a smile, helping Dawn eat her food without making too much of a mess.

“Bear trap.” Liam said seriously then, causing Maeve to freeze and let out a heavy sigh. Whenever any one of them said the phrase “bear trap” to the other, that meant that they had one last chance to tell the truth and if they didn’t, they would be forced to hold their hand over a live bear trap while being asked as many deeply personal and embarrassing questions as possible and if they didn’t answer a single one truthfully, their hand went in the trap. It was a tradition started by their father because in his eyes, if you didn’t want to tell the truth about something small and meaningless then what else are you hiding.

Maeve paused for only a moment as the room fell completely silent other than the toddler noises Dawn was making.

“He’s… a friend.” She said reluctantly and her brothers all nearly barked out a laugh.

“You know Bear Trap rules sis, you have to be more specific than that.” Declan clarified and Maeve wanted to slam her hands on the table and leave. She narrowed her eyes and looked between the three men, knowing that they were dead serious and if she didn’t tell the truth, they’d go get their father’s rusty old bear trap to make her be honest.

“He’s someone I met before Dawn was born. We were friends for a while but then he left. Now he’s back. We don’t have much to say to each other but sometimes we trade things back and forth. Is that good enough for you?” Her tone pointed and aggressive as it was very clear she didn’t want to talk about him. Liam, however, was not satisfied.

“Is he Dawn’s father?” He asked and Maeve dropped her utensils so violently they made a loud crashing sound on the table.

“You promised me you’d never ask about that. All of you promised me you would never ask who her father was ever again.” Maeve glared at her brothers with heartbreak and fear in her eyes, and John held his hands up in defense.

“Settle down Maeve, we get the picture. We just worry about you, you know we do. We just wanna know if you’re seeing anybody because we’re your brothers and we’ll always want to protect you and our little niece.” John clarified and Maeve sighed again, looking over at Dawn who was just looking around the room cluelessly.

“The only thing I ask of you is that if you ever see him around here again, don’t talk to him, ok? He’s not the nicest man and I don’t want you guys to start a fight, Liam.” Maeve cut her eyes over to her brother who just looked surprised.

“Wait wait, what do you mean he’s not the nicest? Is he hurting you?” Declan asked nervously.

“No no, he’s not hurting me. He just has a bit of a temper and can be a little reckless. And I promise you, if you ever got in a fight with him, you would lose, no contest.”

“No contest? Maeve, you do know what we look like compared to him? There’s three of us and only one of him, and if need be, we’ll beat his ass to keep you safe.” Liam said.

“Just please, you gotta trust me on this one. Promise me you guys won’t go near him if you see him again? Please?” She begged and the three men looked between each other for a moment.

“Fine… we promise…. But if we find out he’s been fucking with you in any way, I know Declan would be happy to shear his skin off with the wool trimmers.” John said firmly. Maeve ran both hands through her hair and shook her head.

“You three are unbelievable, I swear. Dawn, don’t listen to your uncles, they’re just a bunch of animals.” She leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead as they all finished up their dinner.

—————————————

Maeve had started cleaning up the table when there was a knock at the door. She guessed it was probably another traveling salesman, as John had complained they’d been getting more of those in the past week, but a cold shiver ran down her spine when she realized what time it was. She had come over when the sun was still up, but when she looked outside, it was very clearly nighttime.

And then she heard a very familiar voice speaking to her brother.

“‘Scuse me sir, I don’t mean to bother y’all this late, but my car broke down just down the road and I was wonderin’ if I could use your phone to call my friend right quick? Won’t take me too long, I promise.” Remmick’s southern twang both terrified her and attracted her at the same time. Deep down, she wanted to run to him and kiss him, make him fuck her stupid, but that fear for not only her daughter’s safety but now for her brothers’ won out in the end. She rushed to grab Dawn out of her high chair and ran into one of the bedrooms.

“Stay right here sweetie, mommy will be right back I promise.” She kissed Dawn goodbye as she put her in the playpen that Declan had built for her whenever she came over. Unfortunately, the short time it took for her to hide Dawn was enough time for her idiot brother to invite Remmick inside.

“John don’t-“ She called out, only to freeze in her tracks when she saw Remmick enter the living room. His eyes were soft but she could tell he was there for a purpose.

“Maeve… it’s good to see you again.” He said kindly but John could tell Maeve was visibly uncomfortable by the man’s presence.

“Remmick… whatcha doin here?” She asked and crossed her arms, watching him like a hawk as he approached.

“Well originally I came here for a different reason but… now that you’re here, there’s no need for games now, is there?” He started, a gentle smile on his face and Maeve shivered again despite herself.

“Maeve, who the hell is this guy?” John asked as Declan and Liam stood up from their chairs and stood beside their sister.

“This was the guy I was talking about at dinner. John, Declan, Liam - meet Remmick.” She narrowed her eyes as Remmick only got closer, looking her up and down.

“Still so beautiful… I appreciate the little gifts you’ve been giving me. And I hope she’s been liking what I’ve gotten for her. I don’t really know her size so I have to guess on some things.” The odd thing was that in every single way, Remmick was acting genuine. He seemed calm and polite, like he wasn’t a cold blooded vampire underneath that handsome facade.

“Maeve…” Declan whispered, turning to her as both he and Liam had put two and two together. Her brother’s worry cut right to the chase and made Remmick sigh.

“Where is she, Maeve? Where’s my daughter?” He asked, his voice tinged with sadness.

“With a babysitter. She’s not here.” Maeve lied and Remmick laughed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Now now… we both know that’s not true. We both know I can feel her, hear her in my head. I know she’s here.” He said firmly, pushing past Maeve and starting to walk around the house in search of Dawn. However, he was forced to stop when he heard the click of a shotgun and felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

“I’m afraid we’re gonna have to ask you to leave.” John snarled, pointing his shotgun to the back of Remmick’s head. Unfortunately for all parties involved, those were the worst words John could’ve possibly said. In an instant, Remmick’s flesh began violently smoking and he cried out in pain, an invisible force dragging him through the living room and out onto the front porch. All three men stared in horror as they watched this man transform into a monster right in front of their eyes. Maeve felt her heart ache as the truth she had been so desperate to keep from her brothers was now revealed.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Liam shouted as he and Declan rushed to the doorway to see what was happening. Remmick stood up with a groan, his eyes glowing and his fangs now exposed.

“Well that wasn’t necessary.” He hissed, rolling his neck and trying to get himself back under control.

“What are you?” Declan hissed and Remmick laughed.

“Ask your sister.” He smirked as John turned around to look at her. She was standing in the living room staring at the ground, shaking her head before she began to speak.

“He’s a vampire, y’all. He’s a vampire and he’s Dawn’s father.”

“Yes I am… and she insists on keeping me away from my baby girl. I’ve never even seen what she looks like. Maeve never told me she was pregnant you see, so when I found out that she’d been keeping something so incredibly important like this from me, well… let’s just say I’ve been more determined than ever to meet my daughter.” He explained.

“You threw a tree through my front porch that first night.” Maeve shouted as she approached the doorway, pushing past her brothers to meet Remmick’s now more human looking eyes. The sadness gripping his expression almost made her feel guilty, but John’s firm grip on her wrist made her confident that she was doing the right thing, “Do you understand why I’ve refused to talk about Dawn’s father now?” She asked her brothers and they all nodded.

“Maeve, not to play devil’s advocate or anything but… even though he’s a vampire, it’s clear he wants to be in Dawn’s life. Maybe just let him see her, just once.” Declan said and Maeve whipped her head around to look at him.

“Deck, are you fucking serious?!” She yelled and he shrugged.

“I mean, by your own admission, a vampire is the father of your child, that means that Dawn is half vampire, as fucking crazy as that sounds. Which means, I guess, that she’ll have some of his vampire traits right? They have some kind of mental connection already, from what he says, but who knows what else could be wrong with her?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with her, and I can face anything that comes our way as she grows up. I’m not letting him take her from me.” She hissed and Remmick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Is that what this is about? You think I’m gonna steal her from you?” He asked with a scoff.

“You said you’d kill me and take her yourself the very first night!” She spat back.

“Yeah…. Looking back, that wasn’t exactly the smartest thing for me to say. I kinda went a little over the edge there didn’t I?” He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment.

“Yeah no shit.” Maeve snarled back, “You’re not going to see her. Be grateful I’m giving you anything of hers in the first place.”

“Maeve please…. How much more do I have to beg?” Remmick began to tear up as he looked back and forth between Maeve’s pain riddled expression and the horrified faces of her brothers.

“Unless you can time travel to a time when you never murdered anyone and become human again, I don’t think you could ever beg enough.” Her voice cracked, causing Declan and John to look at her concerned, “Just go… please…. And don’t bother my brothers again, you’ve already scared the shit out of them enough for one night.” Remmick closed his eyes and sighed in defeat.

“You know I’m never gonna stop this, right? I’m just gonna keep comin’ back here every night until I see my daughter. It’s like you enjoy breakin my heart over and over and over again, darlin.” He scoffed.

“Remmick please… please….” She whispered and Remmick nodded.

“Ok… well… I’ll see you again tomorrow night.” Remmick turned and bolted back into the night.

“Jeez… Dad must’ve had a really rough impact on you sis, you fell in love with a man just like him.” Liam said before Maeve whipped around and slapped her brother hard enough to make his ear ring.

“OW WHAT THE FUCK?!” He screeched in pain as John and Declan backed up.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking DARE say he’s like dad. You know more than any of us what dad was like. Remmick is many things, but he could never be as cruel and evil as dad. If he was, I would’ve tried to kill him myself months ago.” She spat.

“Did you not know he was a vampire when you slept with him?” Declan asked.

“I… it’s complicated, Deck.”

“But you know the stories grandpa used to tell us about his kind. Hell, you were the most invested in them out of all of us! How could you let yourself fall for him?” Declan argued as Liam pitifully rubbed his cheek.

“I didn’t fall for him… I mean… God, I don’t want to talk about this anymore, I need to get Dawn home.” She huffed and ran back to the room where she’d hidden Dawn. The toddler was standing and gripping the edge of the playpen when she returned, smiling wide at her mother and revealing the tiny needle like fangs that were in her mouth.

“Oh my sweet girl…” Maeve whispered as she picked her up, “I wish I could see what goes on in your head, maybe then I’d understand what goes on in your daddy’s.”

She promptly left her brothers’ house without another word, ignoring their questions and pushing past them. However, John followed her out of the house and began walking her back to her home.

“John you don’t have to follow me, I can take care of myself.” She protested.

“Yeah…. But now I know there’s vampires out in these damn woods, and Remmick’s probably still watching you from somewhere out there, I ain’t lettin nothin happen to you or Dawn.” He replied, glancing out to the forests. From behind the trees, a pair of glowing red eyes watched them walk. Remmick felt his heart swell at the sight of Maeve carrying Dawn. He couldn’t really see what Dawn looked like, as the sweet little girl had her face buried in Maeve’s chest, but he could tell she had his hair. Even in the darkness, he could tell that crop of curly dark hair was his.

The only sound that could be heard in the forest, besides the soft noises of crickets and owls, was the sound of Remmick’s bloody tears hitting the ground as he watched the woman he cared about take his daughter away from him once more.

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 29]

- Masterlist -

A/N: Contains a written part. There is a TW for this chapter. Scenes of physical assault are present, it’s also a very heavy chapter in general. Please be mindful and don’t read anything that may upset you!!!

~~~~|~~~~

“This is a cute place,” Your mom remarked when you three stepped into the house. Hyunjin was standing close to you, already a little put off by your mother, considering she asked him what business he had been doing at your apartment less than three minutes prior.

When he explained he was a “friend” of yours, your mom rolled her eyes and told him you couldn’t have possibly had so many friends.

Hyunjin was done with her after that, but you still allowed her in the dorm despite his looks of disapproval.

“Thank you,” You said, “Yumi and Hana decorated it for the most part. They have an eye for-”

“You have no pictures of me and you” Your mom frowned as she looked at the photo wall you and the girls had.

To be fair, there were no pictures of any of you guys’ families. The wall was only meant for pictures of you and the group.

“I have a picture of us in my room” You revealed, “I’ll show it to you”

“I want a picture of us out here though.”

“Let’s go see the picture,” Hyunjin smiled. To your mom, he looked polite, to you, he looked beyond pissed.

You set the food down and took them to your room. After setting your purse down, you pointed in the direction of your bedside table. As you said, there was a picture of you and your mom. It was an older picture, you were maybe one or two years old, but it was a picture nonetheless.

“That’s nice” She mumbled

You took your guests back to the dining room to finally eat lunch. You wanted your mom to leave quickly, you could tell her mood had soured for whatever reason and you didn’t want to deal with that.

As you three ate, she started to get a little antsy, which made you nervous.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine baby” She grinned, but her leg shook violently and she kept looking back towards the hallway.

“You sure?”

“Well” She sighed, “Can I use the restroom?”

“Of course” You nodded, “Do you remember the way to my room? The bathroom is right across from it”

She nodded and stood up, excusing herself and leaving you and Hyunjin alone.

Once he was sure he heard a door close, Hyunjin gave you a look

“I know that’s your mother, and I’d never disrespect her, but… I don’t like her!” He whispered, “I don’t know baby, she just gives off this….vibe. It’s a bad vibe, she seems so spiteful”

You crossed your arms, taking in Hyunjin’s words as you replayed the last couple of days in your mind.

Her whole demeanor just didn’t sit right with you. Either she was too sweet or very passive-aggressive. A few times she swore at you, and you could tell she hadn’t really changed.

At least, she didn’t change enough for you.

“She’s supposed to leave in a couple of days. I think I’m gonna do low contact. I don’t think she grew as a person. It’s like she’s trying to appease me”

You two continued to talk. Five minutes went by. Then ten. Then twenty.

“Why isn’t she out yet?” you asked your boyfriend, who looked just as concerned as you

“Let’s go check on her”

You got up with Hyunjin following close behind. As you walked up to the bathroom, you noticed the door was slightly ajar and the light was off.

You peeked in and didn’t see anyone there.

Then, you noticed your bedroom door was closed. You knew you left it open when you three walked out earlier.

A bad feeling settled in your stomach as you barged into your room.

The first thing you saw was your clothes all over the floor. Your shirts, pants, shorts, and even underwear were scattered everywhere.

Naturally, your drawers were opened, some even fully emptied. Your closet was ransacked and you saw a pile of coats and purses on the floor.

Pieces of paper were crumpled up in a pile, and a dark blue journal was close by, so you immediately knew your diary had been destroyed.

All your posters had been ripped down. All the pictures Hyunjin drew for you were torn apart.

Every love song Han wrote for you that you taped up, destroyed.

Every Polaroid you took with I.N., was destroyed.

The pictures of Soonie, Doognie, and Dori that Lee Know gave to you that featured little words of encouragement on them, were destroyed.

Love poems from Seungmin

Sticky notes with reminders to “keep being cute” or “keep doing well” from Changbin

Origami boats from Felix

And every single flower Chan had ever gotten for you.

He knew you loved roses, and he insisted on getting you real ones even though you couldn’t take care of them.

They were dead and fragile, but you still kept them in a vase just for memory's sake.

Now they lay on the floor. Crushed.

The very last thing you saw was your mother, sitting on your bed, with your wallet in one hand and your debit cards and cash in the other.

“Wow” is all you said

Hyunjin felt your rage build up. The symbol was practically burning a hole through his palm. He knew the other boys could feel it, and they were probably calling and texting you both non-stop.

Your phones were in the other room though, and honestly, you couldn’t give a damn about answering a phone at that moment.

All you felt was pure anger.

All of a sudden you were fifteen years old again, watching your mom demolish your room after she found out you kissed a boy at a school dance.

Then you were twenty, right before you left for Korea, watching her smash every plate, vase, and picture frame she could get her hands on after she learned that you’d be “abandoning her”

You don’t know what set her off this time. You didn’t want to know.

“How could I be so damn stupid?” You wondered aloud, “Why didn’t I tell you to go fuck yourself the moment I found out you showed up at my fucking place of work?”

“Watch your mouth, girl” Your mother snapped, still holding your things in her hands.

“Nah, FUCK THAT. I allowed you to waltz your ass back into my life and this is how you repay me? Wrecking my room? Ruining everything I cherish most?”

You walked further into the room, slowly getting closer to your mother.

Hyunjin knew you were about to do something drastic, so he sprung into action, grabbing your arm before you had a chance to raise it.

Your mom seemingly took this as a challenge. She threw your money and cards down, standing up and getting in your face.

“I read your little diary. I saw all the things you said about me. You think I’m a failure as a mother? You think I don’t give a fuck about you, huh? You called me a narcissistic bitch. I’ll show you a bitch alright”

Her hand raised and she slapped you.

It was so quick, you could barely process what had happened. Hyunjin, though, moved you behind him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He fumed, “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again”

“Please move Hyunjin” You trembled, hands visibly shaking as he continued to yell profanities at your mother.

“No! I’m gonna call the fucking police, you think you’re gonna get away with hitting her? Are you fucking dumb?”

“Hyunjin leave the room please”

“Y/n she HIT YOU! I’M NOT LEAVING YOU ALONE WITH HER”

“Please leave and call Rose. Tell her I need an NDA and my mom on the next flight back home”

He was about to argue more, but you gave him a look so desperate he wouldn’t dare to talk back. Hyunjin begrudgingly left, but made sure to leave the door wide open just in case he needed to rush back in.

When he was gone, you faced your mother.

You loved her.

You loved her so much.

Despite how much she mistreated and hurt you, all you wanted was for her to love you back.

You needed her approval, you craved her attention. But the moment she had the nerve -the audacity- to hit you, any hope for reconciliation was out the window.

“My manager will be here any second. You are going to sign an NDA because I don’t trust you won’t try to make money off this situation. Once you sign it, you will get the fuck out of my house. Someone will drive you to your Airbnb, you will get your shit, and you will go back home. As soon as you’re out my eyesight I’m getting rid of any and every trace of you. After today, you will not be able to get a hold of me again. And I swear to God, if you ever find yourself thinking you’re gonna try and ruin my life any more than you already have, I’ll get a lawyer and sue your ass so quickly that you won’t even have a pot to piss in by the time I’m through with you.”

As if on cue, Hyunjin walks back in with Rose.

“Y/nnie? What happened? I got here as quick as I could- what happened to your room? Is your face bruised up?”

“Do you have the NDA, Rose?”

“Yes, I mean I have a regular one? What did you want one for specifically?”

“What are the guidelines in that one?”

She quickly skimmed through the papers, “The person who signs it can’t reveal any details about any situation that could harm the artist’s reputation or image in any way, with certain stipulations of course”

“Let’s say my mom destroyed my room, hit, and planned to rob me. If she signed those documents, would she be able to talk about it in exchange for money or even…exposure?”

Rose was quiet for a few seconds, finally understanding the gravity of the situation

“No” She finally said, “Not unless she wanted to get a couple of lawsuits”

“What if she made up a story to try and harm my reputation?”

“That wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do, especially if she planned on living a peaceful life”

You wordlessly took the papers and grabbed a pen off your desk, giving both the items to your mom. With a look of disbelief mixed with hatred, she signed the papers and threw them on the floor.

“You were a mistake” She sneered, “I hate you”

You thought your heart would break, you thought you would crumble at her words, but you simply nodded.

“Goodbye Mom”

Rose escorted her out, and you finally started to feel the warm sensation on your cheek.

Your legs were wobbly, and they gave out after a few seconds. Hyunjin was at your side instantly, holding you as you started to sob violently.

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @chuuyaobsessed @h0rnyp0t @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @hanniemylovelyquokka @xxeiraxx @loveforlee444 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @cunninglibrarian @holly-here @galaxy4489 @hyunmikim @yougottobekittenme @hyeon-yi @katsukis1wife @multi-fandom-nightmare @staybabblingbaby @kozumesphone @fuck-you-im-gae @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @champagneconfetti

[idontliekmondays]

excerpts from a daily mail article released shortly after her arrest

When members of the Geneva High School role playing club asked 16-year-old Lindsay Souvannarath to choose a character they were expecting an elf, a sorceress or perhaps a female warrior.

But the shy, clean-cut teenager opted for a rather more unsettling choice, presenting them with a detailed pencil drawing of her chosen persona - the 'Nightmare Nazi'.

The trench coat, jackboots and gas mask were unmistakably those of an SS soldier; the skeletal hands clutching a vast dagger more akin to dark fantasy art.

Former classmates at Geneva High recall Lindsay Souvannarath as a shy, withdrawn youngster, who had few friends and instead sought out after-school groups and writing clubs to express her creative side.

But she was also prone to bouts of anger and violence - allegedly stabbing another student with a pencil in one outburst and occasionally letting slip an alarming infatuation with the Third Reich.

'On first impressions I didn't think there was anything too strange about her,' he told Daily Mail Online.

'She could be funny and intelligent but most of the time she was quiet and not very warm or outgoing.

'One year her character was a sort of Wonder Woman-type heroine, then all of sudden she tells the group she wants to be a Nazi ghost.

'You choose your species and come up with a back story. Hers was that her character was a guest from a crazy, dark Nazi universe.

'It's supposed to be a game in a medieval, fantasy setting but she would just argue if she didn't get her way.

'So we went on our quest with a robot, a couple of elves, wizards and this weird Nazi.

'Aside from the character's background he didn't do anything racist or too alarming. We didn't know about her interests at that time so we just got on with it.

Ms Szigeti recalled how Souvannarath began to idolize black-death metal bands in her mid-teens.

She became particularly infatuated with Varg Vikernes, a white supremacist musician convicted in 1994 of killing a rival guitarist and burning down three churches in Norway, describing him as 'cute' and writing essays about him.

'Her work was always dark and full of violence, there were soldiers and Nazis and all this weird stuff,' Sabrina said.

'She acted normal on the surface. She was never physically violent but she would get aggressive and upset if you criticized her.

'Everyone was uncomfortable but we just avoided trying to start a fight with her. 'If you asked her straight up 'are you a Nazi?' she would argue that she wasn't.

As far back as 2007 - when she was just 15 - she allegedly wrote 'free speech is dead' in one forum, adding: 'That's why we need people like David Duke to bring it to life again.'

In another warped entry, writing that same year under the pseudonym Snoopyfemme she wrote: 'They use sex in commercials all the time to sell products. Why don't they ever use violence?

'Wouldn't you love to see a bunch of guys tearing each other apart with machine guns to get a bowl of Cheerios?

'Sure, it might traumatize our children, but in my opinion, children aren't being traumatized enough.

'The only reason for Americans to breed is to create more soldiers to fight for freedom. We need to weed out the weaklings early on. Survival of the fittest, man.'

'She was very odd to the point among a lot of our classmates that no-one was surprised by her arrest.

'She was a very lonely person - but she isolated herself. 'From what I remember she was even suspended for stabbing someone with a pencil in middle school.'

'She was known for putting spells on people. She would do it by saying weird things and then putting on a curse - obviously we did not take her seriously.

'She would break out into laughter in the middle of class for absolutely no reason.

'When we saw that Lindsay did something like this, nobody was surprised. She was the one most likely.'

source

[r-memberme]

trouble | k.m

⎯⎯“Ian,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “What a name. Sounds like he was born to be dull.”

warnings: none i think

this is part 2 of territorial! but you can also read it as a stand alone fic.

There were many things you could say about Klaus Mikaelson. That he was a terror? Absolutely. That he could charm his way out of nearly any situation? Without a doubt. That he was maddening beyond reason? A certainty. But tonight, you were discovering something new about him: Klaus Mikaelson, Original Hybrid, immortal being of immense power, was jealous.

And, frankly, it was hilarious.

It had started innocently enough. You’d gone out to meet with a group of friends, including a particularly friendly bartender who happened to be tall, muscular, and very good at throwing charming smiles your way. You hadn’t thought much of it—your affection for Klaus was clear, wasn’t it?—but apparently, he had.

Now, you were standing in his art studio, arms crossed, watching as he painted with far more aggression than usual. The strokes were bold and angry, the colors clashing violently. If his easel had feelings, it would be sobbing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Talk about what?” Klaus snapped, not turning around.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “Your little tantrum? The way you’ve been glaring at me since I got home? The fact that your painting looks like a crime scene?”

He slammed the brush into the jar of water with unnecessary force. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Because you’re always this pleasant.”

He finally turned to face you, his eyes narrowing. “I fail to see how my mood is any of your concern, love.”

“Oh, it’s definitely my concern,” you said, walking into the room. “Especially when it’s so obviously about me.”

“It’s not,” Klaus said quickly, a little too quickly.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? So it has nothing to do with the fact that you saw me talking to Ian earlier?”

His jaw clenched, and you swore you could see a vein throbbing in his temple. “Ian,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “What a name. Sounds like he was born to be dull.”

You snorted. “He’s a perfectly nice guy.”

“A nice guy,” Klaus repeated, his tone mocking. “Yes, I’m sure he’s just delightful. With his perfectly symmetrical face and his insipid little jokes.”

“Insipid?” you asked, biting back a laugh. “Klaus, he told one joke.”

“And it was terrible,” Klaus said, crossing his arms. “I’m surprised you laughed at all. I thought your sense of humor was more refined.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, smirking. “Should I have saved my laughter for your jokes? You know, the ones that are usually just insults wrapped in a British accent?”

He glared at you. “My humor is sophisticated.”

“Your humor is petty,” you shot back.

“And yet, here you are,” he said, stepping closer, “laughing at me. Do you find me entertaining, love?”

“Right now? Absolutely,” you said, grinning.

He sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are infuriating.”

“And you,” you said, poking his chest, “are jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Klaus said immediately, though the slight flush in his cheeks said otherwise.

“You are,” you said, smirking. “Admit it.”

“I will admit no such thing,” he said, turning back to his painting. “Unlike you, I don’t need validation from every dull, three-apples-tall bartender in this city.”

You burst out laughing. “Three apples tall? Klaus, he’s taller than you.”

His brush froze mid-stroke, and he turned to glare at you. “He is not.”

“He absolutely is,” you said, still laughing. “And you know it.”

“Height is irrelevant,” Klaus said, his tone defensive. “What matters is presence. And I have more presence in my little finger than that man could muster in a lifetime.”

“Presence,” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “Right. That must be it.”

“It is,” Klaus insisted. “I could charm the stars from the sky if I wished.”

You smirked, stepping closer. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But right now, you’re sulking like a teenager.”

“I do not sulk,” Klaus said, his voice tight.

“You’re literally sulking right now,” you pointed out, gesturing to his crossed arms and brooding expression.

He sighed, dropping his arms. “Fine. Perhaps I was… annoyed.”

“Annoyed,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting choice of words.”

“Don’t push me, love,” he warned, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips now.

“Oh, I’m pushing,” you said, grinning. “Because it’s hilarious.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression torn between irritation and amusement. Then, to your surprise, he chuckled.

“You’re insufferable,” he said, shaking his head.

“And you’re ridiculous,” you replied.

He stepped closer, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Ridiculous, am I?”

“Completely,” you said, though your voice was quieter now.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Perhaps. But you love me anyway, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Don’t push your luck, Niklaus.”

“Too late,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you.

And just like that, all the teasing and bickering melted away, leaving nothing but the two of you and the quiet hum of affection that had always been there, no matter how much you pretended otherwise

[sillylittleguy420]

It always sort of upset how much people in this fandom seem to misread Giyuu and Shinobu's relationship? Not in the sense that it "is or isn't romantic" but more so in the sense that Giyuu is a sensitive wittle baby and Shinobu is bullying him - I hate that read, it feels like a lot of people have just NEVER had actual friends in their entire lives - and more importantly I feel like it downplays the obvious fact that these two are really fucking tight.

I mean I could bring up the fact that Giyuu manages to match Shinobu's passive aggressive energy, Shinobu being the only person outside of Ubuyashiki who GETS Giyuu in any meaningful way (According to the Light Novels, which we can assume are canon. I mean hopefully, that's literally where half of the dynamics come from, BECAUSE THE MAIN SERIES SURE AS SHIT NEVER ESTABLISHED ANY OF THESE -), Giyuu having a clear reaction to her death in Infinity Castle, or even Shinobu knowing exactly what Giyuu means when he says "I'm not like you guys" and telling him to explain himself. But instead - I will raise another point!!!! It's clear that when these two banter there's a clear sense of Catharsis between them. Shinobu gets to drop the act and actually be herself, and Giyuu can loosen his shoulders and relax. I think them gnawing at each others throats during Mount Natagumo is a pretty clear example of their dynamic - even if it's more violent than it would usually be. It's very sibling coded if I had to put a nail on it? There's not really a sense of decorum between the two of them, it feels like at any moment either one of the two will throw a jab at the other. Maybe a "You're not reaching that, even on your toes." Or a "Ah, Your awful expression scared those kids away! For shame." And I think both of them appreciate that level of comfortability. If she was paired with anyone else during Natagumo, I don't think Shinobu would've been so biting? Like if it was Rengoku, Mitsuri, or even Sanemi? (Who I think she's also VERY close with, but in a completely different context to her relationship with Giyuu) I think she would've kept up the air of kindness, instead of jumping straight to "Nobody likes you, you fucking dork." But because it was her favorite Wet Cat of a man, she felt comfortable in being so crude. Even if Giyuu probably sat on that for a while for sure. He probably made direct eye contact with Tanjiro and went "Kamado likes me. . ." in his head. But ah, that's a part of the reason I view it as so sibling coded. I wish we got to see more of Shinobu and Giyuu's dynamic, we got a bit in Giyuu Gaiden, and some in the light novels, but it never felt substantial enough for me - and that's probably why so many people misread it so thoroughly, because the series doesn't really do a good enough job of establishing their sibling-like relationship and ribbing tendencies. Then again. . . Demon Slayer and not expanding on these fun and interesting characters in any meaningful way outside of the exact moment where they fucking DIE go pretty hand in hand.

[zith-ipeth]

A dog came into the shop today, his name was Maximus

This is a post about transandrophobia and man hating platitudes

I’ve been sitting around the edge of this discourse because I have stakes and traumas in it, but idk, fuck it, it shouldn’t be discourse.

I see a lot of comparisons between humanity and our canine cousins, it helps me understand modern politics and social issues. This post might not make sense, if I say things that are harmful, I do not mean it. And please for the love of all that is holy correct me, public or private, I’m learning, and making mistakes

—————————

When I was younger, a member of my aunts family, a large mutt named Hunter, jumped on me in a playful gesture, he was about as big as I was at 9 years old, and all muscle. He knocked me over and left a massive claw mark on my stomach. He was a fantastic dog, excitable, very cuddly, loved to play with his siblings. This isn’t to say he was perfect, no one is, he got aggressive, and has barked and bit people before

This can happen with rescues, turns out abuse can often create animals that cuase harm because that’s what they know

No one is one dimensional

In middle school, I was sexually assaulted, emotionally abused and manipulated by a trans boy my age, we were both young, far too young. I can’t say he was nice man, when we grew up he refused to acknowledged any of the harm he had caused, and caused further harm as he got older. But at the time, I knew that what happened wasn’t a cold calculated process, he was too young to have learned this from anything other than abuse that happened onto him

This can happen with trans folks, turns out abuse can often create people that cause harm because that’s what they know

But no one is one dimensional…

———————

Tumblr has been having this whole moment with transandrophobia/transmisandry, it’s, a lot. And for some reason I thought as all this was happening, that my beliefs about it would be kinda, one sided.

Cis men are violent and “bad” due to masculinity: I’ve seen this a thousand times, first and second hand, I’ve felt it, in the shaking hand of a girl sobbing and I’ve felt it as bruises on my abdomen, left by boys older than me.

Trans men are violent and “bad” due to masculinity: I’ve felt this, I’ve been hurt by this, in a way that broke me down in a way nothing else has

But I still felt, off, about it

Mostly because like, yeah, masculinity can be bad and scary, this is true. But it’s not one dimensional like that, masculinity can be amazing too, masculine cis men have saved my ass from being bullied in school more times than I can count.

No one is one dimensional

Also, misandry, even separate from transness, IS REAL, I was a guy for a long time, I felt it. My friend, who was cis, felt it, and still feels it. They have trouble making friends in college because people view them as a threat, due to their masculinity, that’s a real problem

And that problem is multiplied by the intersection of transness

And like yeah, it’s not as societally pervasive as misogyny, but even if it’s small, it’s still there, and still hurts people

I have every excuse to perceive trans men as violent and evil, and yeah, sometimes men, and often trans men, get scary to me, cuase it clicks a response in my brain. But I’m also an adult, and know that I share community with my cis and trans masc allies.

And somthing interesting about the boy who assaulted me, is how fast people were to take away his transness, my friends started using his old names, using dehumanizing pronouns he didn’t use, saying that it was “man behavior”. He’s a trans man, he was a bad person, those arnt connected, and one shouldn’t effect the other, being perceived as the gender you are isn’t a “reward” for good behavior. he was an asshole, and a liar, but he was man.

I get how one can be scared when someone is part of a group when someone in that identity group hurt you, but learning to love those people is incredibly fulfilling, and is something you must do as a trans ally

The relationships with men, trans and cis, I’ve had have been some of the most fun, flirtatious and physically/mentally stimulating relationships I’ve ever had

——————

Today at the pet supply shop I work at, a dog named Maximus came in

Massive, maybe 115 pound mastiff, clipped ears, docked tail, golden chain collar. His person was a built man, shaved head, full beard.

They came in for a self serve bath, and when they left, Maximus was wagging the nub of his tail, tapping his paws and whining, smelling all the amazing smells in the store. I got down to his level to pet him, and he jumped on me, playfully. His size made the visual of him jumping on me a little scary, but the kisses made it a lot better

No one is one dimensional

—————

Trans men face unique transphobia, if that bothers you, fuck off. If you want to demonize a trans man for shit they didn’t even do, for shit that other men have done, fuck off.

Judge people for who they are, not for who they might be, I don’t give a shit how scary a man looks, try and understand them regardless

I love dogs, and sometimes they’re scary, but that’s something I need to work through

I love men, and sometimes they’re scary, but that’s somthing I need to work through.

Run fast, bite hard, bark loud

Peace love and gratitude

-Zith Ipeth

[rockstarmelory]

✨TEN analysis and theory/headcanon ✨

The most popular number mentioned in the Equation playground, the number that everyone loves hanging around and talking about. Once word spread about him, it spreads like a wildflower. This is Ten, the nicest number among the other integers

Ten is anything you can think of a high school guy who's healthy and fit with an extremely great personality. We all know Ten as lovable and cared for by everyone around him. He's friendly and would do anything to help others out. He would go beyond befriending anyone to the point he doesn't mind hanging around Four despite his temper. And once Eight had met him, they already formed an Even Numbers Clubhouse and chilled together watching Object Show 87. What's striking about Ten is his kind personality, even willing to risk his life for his friends or do what anyone tells him to do(like how he's alright with adding with Five to take Six and Nine's place).

There are a lot of good things and aspects about Ten. He's smart, he's athletic, he's always there to help the numbers when they are in need.

Ten didn't become one of my favourite characters until I read more fanfics and look at more art about him. Until I realised Ten is so much more different than the other numbers, no wonder they like him. He's unique in his own way to the fact he blends in by not blending in. Other than Eight, Ten is a completely chill guy and what's more he's the sun in the group. He's a pure bundle of joy and looks into the bright side in everyone's heart.

He saved Nine and Six's cats and helped Seven off the tree. No one else would do it and yet Ten willingly helped. Ten is less hostile than the others who are always annoying and gets into fights and bickers. He even lets Five take off some steam on him while not talking back. He doesn't join in the argument just like Eight. When Five turned around to bicker with Six he just smiled there like everything is gonna turn out ok. Despite their arguments, he knows that they still get along. He sees every negative situation as somewhat just something that passes by. It was also implied by Nine that Ten doesn't deserve the treatment from Fourteen since he's done nothing but spread joy within them.

That's the bad part about him, Ten is overly kind and nice to the point where he's unable to fight back. It makes him naive and oblivious to the point he couldn't see that something was off when Seven and Fourteen disguised as Seven appears. Everyone managed to see the odds but Ten just greets them like it was normal.

After Fourteen got out of jail, he took his revenge on every number. We all know him as a cannibalistic dangerous number but he could've eaten anyone's skin. It could've been Nine, it could've been Five who caged him in the first place. Eight is made out of lead and Six is very aggressive and violent (seven is caged). It could've been either of the formers but no, it HAD to be Ten. Which is why I think the reasons for Fourteen for targeting Ten are one, he might as well be more delicious than the other numbers. Ten is a sweet number himself, to the point it attracts Fourteen to think of tasting how sweet he is.

Two, Ten is really really defenseless. He's not as hostile or exaggerating as the other numbers.(Eight is just hard to eat) Despite having powers too, he lets his guard down. He didn't even argue back at Five like my previous point. It became very obvious that Ten couldn't even fight back when Fourteen tried to eat his skin again and was captured. Ten didn't think much about Fourteen since he thought he wouldn't do it with Five keeping an eye on him. Until the incident occurred. We don't know what happened to Ten before the events of 2673 but we can tell Ten is traumatized to even see Fourteen in his presence, might as well be developing PTSD at this point. I've read a lot of fanfics that have Ten asking why would Fourteen go for him and not the other numbers?

Ten can't bring himself to defend himself. He's as innocent as a lamb ready to be pounced by a wolf just because he did nothing wrong. He had shown a bit of aggressiveness in BFDI: TPOT 15 by breaking the yoyle light into four pieces but other than that, Ten is too kind and nice for his own good. He embraces everyone's differences with open arms before the Fourteen incident.

To conclude, Ten pretty much resembles no matter how kind and nice you are, you'll get taken advantage of by someone who is aware of your weakness. Seriously I've been thinking about this all day when I was studying yesterday and I really feel the need to mention it. I'm not really sure if anyone is aware about the possibilities that, if Ten disappears, none of the algebraliens would be happy at all.

Bonus: Ten also kinda looks like a people pleaser ngl but putting that aside. GUYS IM FREAKING OUT I JUST REALISED TEN IS A MIX OF EIGHT AND TWO'S PERSONALITY BECAUSE TWO PLUS EIGHT EQUALS TO TEN!!(EIGHT IS OVERLY CHILL AND LAID BACK WHILE TWO DESPITE BEING ARROGANT IS CARING AND KIND TOWARDS THEIR CONTESTANTS OMG DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?!?!)