#I've even heard people say they don't like it like what are you on about?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowerandblood · 2 days ago

Note

Hi, for the ask game you’re making

Glass cuts deepest

🖼️ Museum

🍁 Autumn

💐 Care

🎃 Jealousy

😬 Semi-public sex

🍓 Sexual tension

Congratulations on the milestone 😊!

The Art of Body

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]

[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]

A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.

Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]

______

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.

He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.

Women.

The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.

He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.

When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.

He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.

When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.

He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.

"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.

Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.

He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.

"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.

Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.

He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.

He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.

He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.

He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.

Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?

He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.

"Let's go." He said finally.

It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.

He felt he could rely on her.

When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.

The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.

His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.

"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.

He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.

He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.

He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.

I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.

He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.

He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.

He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.

"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.

He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.

"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.

She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.

He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.

"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"

"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."

"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.

What did she mean?

"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.

He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.

He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.

When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.

Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.

He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.

"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.

"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.

He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.

They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.

"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.

"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.

He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.

He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.

He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.

He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.

All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.

The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.

Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.

"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.

The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.

Why hadn't he done this before?

They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.

"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.

"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.

Just a little longer.

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allllium · 2 days ago

Note

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

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penguininmypocket · 2 days ago

Text

I agree with your username but not with anything you just said

there are many people who experience racism, misogyny and so on every day, yet they still voted trump - it's not because they think they should be deported. there ARE white supremacists who voted red, but I'm willing to bet they don't even make up the majority of trump's supporters. this is only anecdotal but just dipping into the radio and listening to people explain why they voted trump - very very few say it's because they think America needs to be a Christian ethnostate. most cite things like the cost of living, national solidarity, and a lack of satisfaction with Biden. hell, I've heard dozens of people with thick foreign accents or Latinos or queer people vote trump.

the problem certainly IS to do with all the things OP listed (and also here - read the extended version!!) and these are the things we as a global society need to be addressing. things like lack of information, misinformation and disinformation. things like AI, social media and political Twitter bots.

white supremacists make up a small proportion of the white supremacist body. most people are people who get dragged into these things, because they

- have uninformed worldview and lack critical thinking

- get so washed with certain opinions that they seem obvious (eg, the economy is the fault of immigrants)

- have to be extreme to be heard

- have to pick one or the other

the list goes on and on - but the point is that none of these are the fault of the individual. the reason trump (and all the other global far-right groups on the rise - the AfD and Reform UK are the ones closest to me) can get these masses to unfalteringly unquestioningly follow them is a societal thing, and a structural thing. I'm very much not a sympathetic person but I do hold sympathy for right-wing voters who are shooting themselves in the feet without even realising.

I can highly recommend this video:

which is an insider's insight into exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about.

your attitude also isn't your fault - for exactly the same reasons. politics has become so polarising that no matter what happens, 49% of the populace are angry. but it's an unhelpful attitude and unsympathetic. it will do nothing in ways of fixing the matters at hand because it fails to address them

things we need to address:

gen z men getting pulled into alt-right pipelines through andrew tate, joe rogan, elon musk, jordan peterson etc

the gullibility and stupidity of half the country voting against our collective best interests

the broad effect social media has on public and common good

lazy minds and lack of empathy

outside-country interference (trump and elon’s connections to russia and the amount of bots from other countries spreading misinformation)

the long-term effects of AI and rampant disinformation

#political ramblings

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nimnia · 2 days ago

Text

‹ chapter 01 › LIBRARY

─── JUST Y☆UR ATTENTI☆N ⋆ ｡ ° ✩

WARNINGS── tittle-tattles. nothing serious yet.

WC── 1,395 words

── JYA main list

the sounds of chattering voices and clinking dishes fill the humongous room of the cafeteria, the lunchtime energy stuffing the air as students catch up, complaining about their professors, and sharing weekend plans.

minji sat among her friends, barely listening as they laughed and recounted moments from their morning classes. she had her usual plate of food in front of her, but her attention drifted off as she stared at her form, twirling it absentmindedly in her hand.

lately, her mind has been unusually restless, something she couldn't quite place. it could be her coursework or issues back in her home.

"minji!" hanni nudged her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"huh?" minji looked up, blinking as she refocused on hanni's face.

hanni smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. "spacing out? don't tell me you're stressed about midterms already." she teased.

minji rolls her eyes, slightly tilting her head to the side. "not a chance, han. i was just thinking," another friend of hers, danielle, chimes in.

"thinking about what?" danielle leaned forward, a teasing grin spreading across her face. "or should i say… thinking about who?"

minji sighs, smirking despite herself. "not everyone's as dramatic as you, dani."

"oh, you're one to talk!" danielle shot back with a laugh.

their playful exchange was interrupted shortly when hanni suddenly lowered her voice, leaning in as to share something of a secret.

"forget that! have you heard about the girl who practically lives in the library? in this school we're in!"

minji raised a brow, feigning indifference even as a flicker of curiosity ignited in her. "the library? uh, i've been there quite a lot, and i don't think i noticed anyone who 'lives' there."

hanni's eyes gleamed as if she had been waiting for this conversation for some time. "oh, you'd know her if you saw her!"

"people say she's there all the time— like, almost every night until it closes. she's always by herself, surrounded by a million books!" hanni adds.

danielle nodded, lowering her voice to match hanni's. "she's kind of… intense," minji pressed her lips together, listening attentively.

"some people think she doesn't want to be around anyone— you know, like she's isolating herself on purpose or something!" danielle exclaims quietly.

a quiet laugh slipped out of minji, although her mind lingered on the idea of someone purposefully choosing solitude. "i mean… college is exhausting, pretty much. it's not that weird for someone to prefer studying alone."

hanni shrugs, a knowing look in her eyes.

"yeah, but this girl's a bit different, minji. it's like she doesn't even notice anyone else exists. no one knows her name, and she doesn't talk to anyone at all! she just sits there, toootally detached, like she's in her own world."

suddenly, the cafeteria noises faded around minji as she imagined it— a girl alone in the dim library, surrounded by books, studying late into the night as the world moved on around her.

the image was actually haunting oddly, almost poetic, and for reasons she couldn't really explain, it unsettled her. she had always thrived in social spaces, valued the connections she made, and enjoyed being recognized.

the idea of choosing to withdraw entirely felt strange, maybe even a bit… disturbing— yet again, she wasn't one to judge someone who chose to withdraw from reality, if that's the issue.

danielle nudges her arm, breaking her reverie, "don't you think it's weird though?"

minji glanced down at her tray, avoiding her friend's gaze. "maybe," she muttered. "but who cares? it's her choice, so we shouldn't be judging her."

danielle thought about it before shrugging and moving on to another topic, but minji found herself only half-listening.

she glances around the cafeteria, her mind drifting back to the image her best friends had painted of this mysterious, isolated girl who is also her schoolmate, though someone she didn't quite know yet.

'why would anyone want to be alone all the time though..?' minji wonders, a strange pang of intrigue and curiosity stirring in her chest.

throughout the afternoon, that conversation stayed entirely with her, never leaving her mind. it was rather ridiculous, she told herself, to be so curious about someone she hadn't even met yet.

but even as she moved from one class to the next, her mind kept circling back to that image of the mysterious girl who is practically living in the library.

when her last class finally ended, the resolve that had been bothering minji hardened. she knew where she needed to go.

so instead of heading to her dorm or meeting her friends, she took a different path, winding through the campus toward the library.

─────

the library was unusually quiet as she stepped inside, the warm glow of the evening sun filtering through the windows and the curtains.

the air felt quite heavy with silence, a sharp contrast to the lively chaos of the cafeteria. minji paused at the entrance, adjusting to the dim lighting and the stillness.

as she glanced around, her heart thrummed with a mix of excitement and nerves. she hadn't even realized how eager she'd become to catch even the slightest glimpse of this girl, to see if her friends' descriptions were as captivating as they'd made them sound.

after a little while, minji moved quietly between the shelves, her steps slow as she scanned the tables and reading nooks. she felt a bit silly, as though she was sneaking around on some sort of mission, but she couldn't bring herself to turn back.

and then, and just then, near the far corner of the library, she saw you.

you sat at a table by the window, surrounded by stacks of books, your head bent over a notebook as you scribbled with quiet intensity.

the late afternoon sun casts a warm, hazy glow around you, softening the sharp lines of your expression. your face was partially hidden by your hair, but minji could see enough to notice the calm, focused look on your eyes.

it was a look that suggested she was utterly alone in her own world, untouched by the presence of anyone around her.

minji felt her breath catch, a wave of something she couldn't quite name wash over her. she lingered by a nearby shelf, pretending to browse as she observed you, her gaze tracing the way your fingers moved gracefully across the page, your eyes never wavering from your notes.

for a moment, minji's own concerns felt distant, irrelevant.

she was struck by the quiet beauty of your solitude, the way you seemed so completely absorbed in your own world. it was, probably, a world that felt unreachable, as though it existed on a plane separate from everyone else's.

and minji couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to step into that world,— your world —to know what you were thinking as you sat there so silently, lost in her own thoughts.

as she continues to watch, you shift slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. minji quickly looked down, pretending to study the spine of a random book, her heart pounding as though she'd been caught.

she felt an odd, embarrassing thrill as if she was peeking into something private, something she wasn't supposed to see.

after a few moments, minji stole another glance. you were still immersed in your work, your expression serene and unbothered.

you seem to be unaware of minji's presence completely, oblivious to the fact that you'd become the center of someone else's fascination and attention.

minji's mind raced with questions, each one more insistent than the last.

why did she choose to be alone? why didn't she care about anyone around her? was she lonely? or was this solitude something she genuinely wanted?

with a quiet sigh, minji forced herself to look away. she couldn't believe how caught up she'd become, how affected she felt by someone she'd never spoken to.

it was as though your presence had cast a spell over her, pulling her in with a quiet, irresistible force.

she left the library that evening with her thoughts in a tangled haze, her mind racing with curiosity and frustration. she barely noticed her friends calling out to her as she walked back to her dorm, her focus lost in a strange, new obsession.

she needed to know your name soon.

TAGLIST── @iamtired10 @saysirhc @sixflame438 @gigislovergirl @trovao-penguins @flyingcigarettes @kmjs-girl @strangercat @secretcessy

#newjeans #뉴진스 #newjeans minji #kim minji x reader #series #minji x reader #kim minji #series - Just Your Attention !!!

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zettaireido-emotion · 3 days ago

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Camus character analysis: games VS anime

If you finished the Uta no Prince-sama anime and your opinion of this man is "wow, he's kinda terrible," I don't blame you. in fact I've seen a lot of people say this

In this post, I want to talk about his characterization in the games and give my two cents on what the anime was trying to do with him, especially in his single focus episode Saintly Territory (S3E6).

Disclaimer: I wrote this on a whim because I'm sick and stuck at home so if anyone reads this, sorry I might go all over the place

Spoilers for all of the games!

The "be my slave" thing

Starting with Anime Camus's most egregious crime: treating Haruka like a servant/slave (however you want to translate it)

Basically in his focus episode, Haruka is tasked with writing a song for Camus. She wants to learn more about him in order to write it, but Camus will only let her follow him if she acts as his servant. She accepts without complaining, Cecil is rightfully angry, Haruka continues anyway and the song gets completed.

Now, am I about to say that Game Camus would never do this? No because he literally does lmao.

The anime doesn't pull this "servant" plotline out of nowhere, here's the context in his route:

Haruka accidentally overhears Camus talking about a plot to assassinate Saotome on the phone. When he notices that she heard everything, he basically tells her that he has to kill her now. But if she served him, he'd be able to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't leak anything, so she could escape death.

Okay uh "work under me or DIE" isn't exactly better, nor is it a good start to a love story, but I'm not finished!!

(A side note: I have to add that the anime made him look like an even bigger asshole and borderline dumb when it came to the things he made her do. Like he expected her to know that snapping your fingers means you want coffee without prior explanation. bro

^This might have been for comedic effect but I promise he can be actually funny and endearing.)

What the anime couldn't cover

The Camus episode wraps up with Haruka pulling through and writing a song that makes Camus "sincere," he says it's cool at the very end and that's the episode. I think the problem is that we technically didn't see him being sincere or what that even means to him, besides when he was singing (banger song btw)

It's a shame because in a 20-minute episode you really can't show the game experience of slowly piecing together what this man's problem is.

First of all, in Debut and AS you'll be quick to notice that he always has homeland and duty on the mind, constantly reminding himself that he's in Shining Agency/Japan for a reason, and it's NOT to have fun or make friends

The truth is, he slowly starts to appreciate the banter with his colleagues, music, and working there in general.

But because of his initial mindset, he has to rationalize & justify every connection he forms, like "it's just for work" or worse: "actually it was ALL A LIE and I NEVER ENJOYED A SECOND OF THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER, I'm such a great actor haha"

He uses that to fool himself and to push the other person away so it doesn't happen again. This scene is probably the best example:

(I'll be using google lens because it's faster but I checked that the tls were okay)

He also does this in the Non-Fiction drama, which may or may not have actually happened, but I think it's still a pretty good reflection of what could happen in reality because he tells Ranmaru their bond was a lie, then mopes around in his guilt thinking about the good times and wondering why he's sad, and THEN later doubles down on the "it was a lie, I don't care about you" because he just can't let himself get attached to anything.

Basically, he's terrified at the thought of forming actual bonds because he genuinely thinks he's nothing if he stops being a cold weapon:

At one point he does admit he sucks (as a love interest)-

-which is pretty huge by utapri standards. I love these games, but the amount of times where a male lead does something icky, and everyone, including Haruka, acts like it's normal or like it's Haruka's fault is ehhh but I digress

Upbringing

Of course he's very proud of his homeland and status, but sometimes it's to the point of thinking he can't be anything other than his title. So why is he like this?

We got to hear about his childhood from Camus himself a few times, and it often ended with Haruka thinking "wait? that's kinda messed up?" and Camus insisting it's nothing/it's normal so yeah that's something...

His parents were in an unhappy arranged marriage, and his mother was forced to birth an heir which traumatized her so much that she can't see Camus without falling ill. Overall it's a pretty tragic situation since what happened to her was horrible, though not Camus's fault either. Even now she refuses to see him, and I wouldn't say that makes him sad because he never really met her, but simply knowing of her sacrifice probably adds a lot of pressure. As in, he only exists for this one purpose (inheriting his father's title and serving the country), so if he doesn't play his part correctly, it would have all been for nothing.

He was raised by his father not as a child or son but as the heir, always treated and judged as an adult (even during physical training apparently, make of that what you will)

When Haruka asks about childhood memories he has a very hard time finding something that doesn't have to do with his duties or the nation. And then admits he didn't truly have a "childhood" since he was never treated like a child

As for the queen, I think his love for her is sincere: she taught him a lot of things growing up, and according to him, she's also a victim trapped by her duties so he wants to ease the burden.

So hypothetically, if he found things or people that made him happy in Japan, he would feel obligated to lock them away because that happiness is incompatible with his life: he'll have to leave when his mission ends, he shouldn't be spending time on things that aren't "useful" as he doesn't have the free will to pursue them

In his mind he's completely tied down by the fact that he was born and raised for a single reason, and the fact that he does want to serve the queen.

(This is Saotome describing him btw)

Also it might sound ridiculous to bring his self-worth into question because of how pretentious he is, but I've counted a few situations where he seemed to have complete disregard for his own life, only worrying about Haruka and Cecil's safety in scenes when they were present. And he thinks wanting to be loved unconditionally is a childish thought he shouldn't have.

"Double Face" was a lie. There's like at least 10 layers

On the surface he does have two personas, his perfect polite butler act for the media, and his cold bitchy attitude off camera. But honestly, even when he's not acting as a butler, he's often putting up a front to hide any form of vulnerability (from himself as well)

His main struggle is finding who he is outside of what he's being told to do. Before, he never actually stopped to think about what he WANTS because it just never occurs to him, or if it does he ignores it.

That's why realizing that he has his own desires is essential to his character development, and him staying with Quartet Night (and Haruka in his routes) is so important. It's why Reiji feels the need to reach out and when he does, Camus either freezes up or tears up;

This all makes him the opposite of Ranmaru (being true to yourself and sincere), and similar to Ai (gradually learning to view the world in a less cold and logical way), but I kind of want to save that for another post lmao

He is especially hard on Cecil because Cecil says & does whatever he wants, and everything still works out for him, which is a way of life that Camus can't imagine for himself at all (despite maybe wanting it?)

That he can realize this and eventually admit out loud, despite all his pride, is also one of my favorite things about him

Season 2 does hint at something, so that's pretty cool!

Side note, I really love that his theme in the new Oracle series is "Change," the melting of ice.

So what was the anime supposed to do??

Of course there's no way to show all this in a single episode or even during the runtime of the anime, and I never expected them to because the story is very surface-level (that goes for all characters).

It's just unfortunate since the anime is the most accessible and well-known utapri media in the western fandom, and the character's main episode is bound to leave the biggest impression.

I understand the choice of being laser-focused on the servant plotline, it's supposed to be funny (?) and waters him down to a trope that's easy to understand at first glance (the step-on-me guy I guess)

Still, I can't help but compare it to Ranmaru's episode, who was also hard to work with in the games but was chill in S3E7 and got to pet cats. Anime onlys will never know how much Camus loves to dote on his dog smh.....

#please don't take this too seriously #i just wanted to cry about camus #uta no prince sama #utapri #camus (utapri)#quartet night #cecil aijima #ranmaru kurosaki #reiji kotobuki #ai mikaze #tag for me yapping about utapri

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greeniegirl23 · 11 hours ago

Text

Isn't It.. Lovely? (Chapter 3#)

One month.

You had one month to make the biggest decision you'd ever make in your life. Part of you wondered why you didn't tell Alastor to have a field day with your Father's corpse, until you remembered that the other part of you still loved and cared for him.

He was still your Dad and once upon a time he was a very good Dad. Your parents were practically a power couple when your Mom was alive, after her death, depression fell on him like a bag of bricks. Leading him to find feeling again in glasses of wine and bottles of hard liquor.

Everyday you pondered on this, wondering if something would finally push you over the edge. If you'd snap and take revenge for yourself.

You didn't like having those thoughts. Yes, the idea of liberty made you feel elated but at the cost of the last family member you had? It was conflicting to say the least.

All that worrying came to a halt once Alastor began to solidify his place in your life.

Every night at 9pm sharp, when you were dressed for bed and your despicable abuser was asleep. Alastor used his powers to turn your radio into your own personal hotline. He was ever so happy to hear from you, happiest when he saw nor heard any traces of harm inflicted on you that day.

He soon found out that you were a curious one and a terrible over-sharer. It was obvious you never really had friends before and if you did, they left you behind long ago. You were as innocent and pure as the driven snow. Always asking questions about him, about Hell, and what it was like back when he was on Earth.

You loved when he told you more about his life. It was like he was reading you your own personal bedtime stories. Tales of speakeasies and the depression, parties that lasted from dusk to dawn, and of course, all of the completely justified crimes he committed before his demise.

As payment for his stories, you told him about your own and caught him up on modern day issues. He seemed especially interested in World War I, disappointed that he died a few years shy of when it started. You told him about your health science classes, your school, and he even became a good study buddy to help you out with your tests.

“Alright darling, last question.” He stated, a drum roll playing in the background. “If your patient performs a forward lunge, which plane of the body are they moving in?”

You chewed on the end of your pencil. “..Coronal?”

A bell dinging made you smile. “Correct! Well done darling, but I'd like for you to work on your confidence when you answer. No one wants a doctor that's unsure of what they're doing.��

“Yeah..I just get so unsure sometimes. I think I'm more scared of being wrong than being right.”

He chuckled. “Do not fret my dear! I've been doing these little pop quizzes with you long enough to know you have a sharp mind. Confidence is a tool that will solidify your place in the career you plan to pursue, so don't be afraid to utilize it more.” His voice was so kind and mentoirish. It felt like he was giving you life lessons almost every time he talked.

On one hand that made you embarrassed. Like these were things you should have already known but you didn't, but you decided to give yourself some grace. Life was different for you than everyone else, so obviously there would be some things you didn't experience to gain knowledge from.

You placed your pencil down and sat cross legged in your chair. Not being the type of person who could sit still, nor do things normally. “Is that how you become a radio host? Because you were super confident?”

There was a pause. “Well, it was something that helped. Being a professional at what I do required more than just believing in myself. Most people think it's easy, but it has its challenges. For example, I used to rehearse my script in the mirror to stop myself from unconsciously going ‘umm’ every 10-30 seconds. It also aided in preventing myself from fumbling my words.”

“That sounds like solid advice.” You smiled. “I should start keeping a journal when you're around and call it ‘Life Lessons As Taught By The Radio Demon.’”

A loud cackling broke out over the radio. “Ah, so the girl does have a sense of humor. A good one at that!” He said proudly. “And here I thought you were all doom and gloom.”

“Hey! I'll have you know staying positive at all times can be very exhausting.” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips in a pouty attitude. “It's really hard to smile when it feels like the world is against you...”

There was a stagnant silence in the air as you turned your head to gaze out the window, watching the rain drizzle from the grey sky. It was your favorite weather, even more so because of the friend it allowed you to find.

Alastor pondered over your words before he took a deep breath. “That leads to a question that I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. It's a rather sensitive one so if you'd prefer not to answer, I would understand.”

Giving the plushie your attention, Alastor's tone turned concerned as he asked. “I can’t help but wonder, Darling, where is your mother..?”

Without missing a beat, you replied. “Oh, my Dad murdered her.”

A sharp microphone screech omitted from the radio. It was safe to say he most definitely was not expecting that..

Not because he can't see your degenerate of a guardian doing something of the sort, he was actually more curious as to how someone as sloppy as your Dad could get away with something like that. No. What got him was even though you were saying words that no child should ever say until they're well into adulthood, you smiled. A soft one, filled with unspeakable pain and a lust for something you could not yet gain.

You could feel him hesitating to ask you some more questions on the topic, so you decided that you could quickly give him your life story. “Whenever anyone asks about it, I always tell them that she passed from cancer but, that's not true..”

Alastor’s signal chirped in curiosity, but he made sure to sound sympathetic. “What happened?..”

You chuckled a bitter melody.

“She was born a diabetic and I was around twelve.. Everyday my Mom took her medicine, the diabetes is actually what led her to becoming a doctor in the first place. Every morning my Dad would make her coffee, as a way of telling her he loved her. I snuck a few sips before only to find out she made it black, when she caught me she told me “Mommy can't have sugar…”

When I turned fourteen, they started arguing. A lot. I can remember hearing them sometimes. Mom threatened to leave him because he was starting to grow a gambling issue and she was tired of taking the brunt of most of the bills. He promised to change and that's when everything started to go downhill.. Weeks went by, she just started getting sicker and sicker seemingly out of nowhere. Still had her morning coffee though. I'd make it for her sometimes and she reminded me “Mommy can't have sugar.” Hardly able to do anything for herself, much less take her medicine. Of course he said he'd do it, he promised me he did when he took me to school..He still made her coffee, before he went to work and after she had been made bed bound..I thought it was a lie, that it wasn't true until I realized that she died that morning with a cup of coffee in her hand..”

A sour laugh left your lips, as you recalled that day you came home from school and found her lying there with blood on the pillow, blood that she had been coughing up for almost a month.

“That bastard was poisoning her with fucking sugar… Everyday he was putting a little bit in her morning coffee and not giving her the insulin she needed. She was a Type 1 diabetic and he did all of it for some fuckin insurance money..” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Before yanking it in frustration and punching your fist through the nearest wall, your face was blank and unmoving for a second not even flinching as you removed your bruised fist from the drywall. “Mama couldn't have sugar..”

Alastor listened as you explained your mother's demise. His distaste for your father grew more and more as he recalled memories of his own childhood. He'd never tell you to your face, but he could see parts of himself in you from his younger years, if lead in the proper manner, you could become quite the promising killer.

He shook his head. Not the best thoughts to be having right now, not while you're on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“I..Would be lying to you if I said I knew what to tell you about such an awful situation..” He stated hesitantly. “But I can say that I am sorry, that you had to deal with something like this so early in life.”

“Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be done about it��She's gone now and I have to get away from him.” You declared, looking at your now bruised hand. “Now you understand why I made that wish. On any day, at any time, for any reason, that man could decide to kill me. To kill his own daughter in cold blood..”

Alastor hummed. “If you know this, then let me help you." He demanded. "I cannot sit idly by forever my dear, these links to your world are only good for short times to prevent other demons from causing other problems. No one understands the severity of this situation more than you. I would love to help you exact revenge on that putrid sack of skin but you must choose before it is too late and I am no longer around..

You sat in silence as Alastor did his best to help you come to a decision. As much as you hated being rushed, you couldn't deny that he was correct. But the decision was hard, harder than you thought it would be considering the fact that you still loved your father and the man he used to be…

All these thoughts ran through your head on a daily basis, everytime they made you wanna curl up and cry. Snatching up the plush doll, you gave it a good squeeze and hid your face in your knees, wishing that your Mom was still around.

The Radio Demon pursed his lips in thought, he wasn't good with others emotions unless he could feed off of the entertainment from it, much less comforting them. There was nothing entertaining about this, about you being sad. He didn't like it for a reason he couldn't explain, perhaps because you were so bubbly in the beginning?

You weren't trying to do anything miraculous, you just wanted to live your life in peace and possibly get justice for your mother. That was something he could understand. He wouldn't mind completely decimating your Dad, truly he wouldn't! It'd be on the house for you, truly you're the most pitiful soul he's come across in a long while.

He supposed he could pull a few quick strings to make you feel better in the moment. To bring back that smile of yours, full of wonder and a desire for life.

As you continued to seek shelter in your knees, you felt a gentle touch caress the top of your head, sharp claws softly scraping your scalp in an attempt to comfort you.

Wait..

WHAT?!

Quickly yet carefully, you snapped your head up to see none other than The Radio Demon crouched down right in front of you. His hand still rested on the crown of the head as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I'm sorry.. am I dreaming?” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled, laughing in a low tone at your completely gobsmacked expression. “Fortunately for you, the answer is no my dear. As a gentleman, it'd be rude of me not to at least attempt to help a lady in emotional distress.”

You were still dazed and confused about him being here, much less t o u c h i n g you!! “Ida..I-- I didn't know you could-”

“Travel through the radio? It is quite possible but I only do so on rare occasions since it requires a fair bit of my power that cannot be overexerted in one day.”

Standing up to his full height, you realized how tall he was and thanked God that the ceiling was high enough for his antlers not to scrape. Crawling out of your chair, you immediately felt like an ant compared to him, the top of your head barely came to his collarbone.

“Holy crap you're tall." You blurted again. "I mean, I knew that you were tall but, you're really, really tall..”

Smirking with pride, he twirled his cane expertly like the show off you knew and loved. “7”0 exactly my dear, a foot taller than I was when I was a mortal! Though I suppose that was the universes funny way of punishing me for my crimes, I've bumped my forehead on door frames a good 50 times in both life and death!”

As you examined his real life appearance, you couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah well, the heels don't help.” You pointed to his shoes.

He huffed in feigned offense. “They are not heels, darling they are tap dancing shoes and it was quite common for them to have a bit of height back in my day.”

“Okay, Fred Astare.” You snorted as he settled himself on the side of your bed as you marveled at the fact that he was still taller than you even while sitting down. “And here I was preparing to offer you a dance in hopes of lifting your spirits, only for you to insult my tastes in fashion.” He hmphed, crossing his arms and legs while sticking up his pointy nose towards you.

In a daring moment, you sat right next to him crissed crossed, careful not to to touch him while he continued to play offended. “C’mon Al, don't be so huffy. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“ ‘Al’ huh?” He hummed. “Sounds like someone is getting rather familiar.”

“Hey, you call me 'Darling' and 'Dear' so often I think that it's only fair that I call you 'Al' on occasions.”

“I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, I came here to try and boost your spirits, you seem to be doing better so if you wish to be bratty I can just go back home..” He teased with an evil grin.

“Wait!” You said just a bit too loudly. “Would you like to play a game with me? Ya know, before you go..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he parted his lips to deny your offer, until you pulled out the big guns and gave him your best puppy girl eyes. A chill went down his spine from your usage of such cheap tactics, remembering his years as a lad and doing the exact same thing when he wanted something desperately from his dear mother.

“Okay! Okay!” He said, placing his hands up in surrender. “I shall subject myself to whatever game this is for one round, as long as you stop making that revolting expression..”

He watched as you smiled with pure enthusiasm. Such a beautiful smile you had, it made him irritated that you didn't do it more, yet proud that he typically was the source of it sprouting in the first place. Crimson eyes followed your movements as you shuffled off the bed to grab a small deck of cards off of your shelf. A part of him hoped you heard the chuckle that left his lips while you struggled to stand on your toes to retrieve this game.

“It's called ‘Uno’ “ You explained, walking back to him with a red box in hand. “It's a pretty simple game and the rules are easy.” Dumping the cards out of the box, the two of you sat parallel with one another.

”However, this simple game has been known to end more friendships than Monopoly and Mario Kart put together. It shall truly test our bond as companions, only the strongest survive it's trials..” You spoke in a dramatic tone while shuffling the cards and placing the proper numbers out for the both of you. Once you were finished, you placed the extra cards in the middle and looked the Radio Demon square in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Yes yes,” He replied aloofly. “There isn't any possible way this silly game could cause such a staggering amount of broken relationships. I refuse to believe it's that bad.’

You chuckled bitterly. “You beautiful unsuspecting fool.”

---------------------- ( 2 Hours Later) ---------------------

“That's against the rules!” Alastor hissed underneath his breath as you threw out a fat stack of +2 cards.

“No it's not Alastor, you said you wanted to play stacks and this is how it's played.” You muttered.

The first round between you two consisted of showing Alastor the ropes. The confident man he was, he assured you that the game was easy enough for an infant to play and win effortlessly, especially since he won the first round. You then decide to spice things up by teaching him how to play stacks. He claimed that was easy as well and you allowed him to believe this as the next round consisted of him losing, and so did the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that…

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by and Alastor was determined to beat you at least once. It had gotten so intense that he resorted to taking his tail coat off and even putting his hair up, leaving him in his tight red office shirt and hair that framed his face like the scrumdiddlyumptious being that he was. The sight of his bare arms totally didn't have you blushing up a storm behind your cards.

While he was stewing over his next move, you got to confirm a few fan theories and ogled at his appearance.

Respectfully, of course.

But, the game wasn't over yet. Alastor sat across from you, irritated and with at least eleven cards in his hand, while you had three. The air was tense as he scratched his head and finally decided to throw out a small handful of 8’s, bringing his card count down to five.

Your poker face remained unmoving as you calmly threw out a wild card. “Blue.”

A warble of interference omitted from Alastor's person as his eyes scanned his cards carefully. You were actually surprised at how the tables had turned personality wise. In the beginning, it was Alastor who was calm and collected, but every loss slowly chipped away at the pride that fueled his unwavering persona. His usual smile was now looking more forced, making his disdain obvious.

Throwing out a blue card, you threw out two on top, leaving you with one card as you stated that dreadful word. “Uno.”

With a growl, Alastor tossed out a draw +4. “Red.” He stated blandly. A quick glance at the clock let him know he was late for a meeting with Charlie, but formalities be damned because he was going to win this game.

You took your cards quickly and deemed your hand an amazing one. He replied by tossing out a 2 and leaving three cards left. Victory was close and he swore that once he won he would ‘kindly’ rub it in your face.

But, just as you had been doing for these past five rounds, you had an ace up your sleeve. You tossed out the red ‘Skip’ card, costing Alastor a vital turn that could have turned the tables, only to metaphorically slap him in the face by cheering “Uno!” and dropping your final cards in the middle of the messy deck.

He suppressed a scream of irritation as you did your little victory dance, glaring at you both with gaiety and pure spite. He stood up and snapped his coat back on and his hair back down, he pinched your cheek just a little too hard. “That's enough cutting a rug darling, especially for someone that has two left feet such as yourself.”

“Stop trying to cease my dancing, I must wiggle out my joy.”

With a roll of his eyes, he tuned the radio on to his station to prepare to go back home. “Well you can dance until your heart's content, unfortunately I have to return back home to handle some business.”

Immediately your uncoordinated movements stopped, as you frowned. “Oh, right..”

Part of him felt bad. Not that he would tell you outright, but he didn't exactly want to leave you behind either. The thoughts of what your father could do unannounced made him concerned for your safety, but there wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he smiled genuinely and lifted your gaze up with his finger.

“Chin up, dearest. I shall check on you tomorrow as always and don't forget, you still need to make up your mind about what you want from the options presented to you.”

You didn't reply verbally, but you did nod your head sadly which would have to be enough for now. As he prepared to walk off, he was suddenly stopped by a tight embrace from behind. Anyone else who would have ever dared to think of such a thing would have been a splatter on the wall and he was just about to give you a kind yet serious talk about personal space until he felt something wet soaking through his clothes.

“..Thank you.” You mumbled through the fabric. Inhaling his scent as you sniffled and tried to calm down, honestly you were surprised he didn't push you off.

As mentioned before, emotions were not Alastor's think nor was physical affection. However in this moment, with you crying lightly and hugging him as if he were your only hope of survival, he decided that maybe, just this once, he would let it slide.

For his comfort, you didn't allow the hug to last longer than a minute. Once you pulled away you were embarrassed to say the least and prepared for him to possibly scold or never talk to you again. But, to your surprise, he simply pat your head and whispered, “Sleep tight, cher.”and was gone with a blink of your eyes.

To say you were sad was an understatement, but you knew that he'd be back tomorrow like he was everyday. The idea of talking to him tomorrow. To hear his voice in real time, talking to you and to offer comfort because he actually cared made your heart pound in your chest. As much as you didn't want to think this way, you couldn't help it. He seemed so concerned about you, in a way that no one else has until now.

You did your best to still your beating heart as you began to clean up your fun from earlier, only to find your cards were missing. You looked everywhere and still couldn't find them, ultimately you claimed into bed and decided that maybe Alastor snapped them somewhere you'd never find so that he wouldn't have to loose, I mean, play anymore.

Meanwhile…

“Alastor you're late!” Vaggie snapped as he came waltzing down the stairs, following her to where the rest of the group sat waiting.

“I am aware Vagatha, I was busy doing something else.” He replied calmly, only to make the fallen angel more irritated. “Whatever, I hope you brought something because it's your turn for a group activity today..”

“But of course! How could I forget?” He smiled impishly, before pulling out a red box with a familiar word on it. Once with the rest of the residents, Alastor clapped his hands together and pulled out a chalkboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“For today's activity being hosted by yours truly, we shall all be playing a game suited for bonding and the strengthening of relationships,” He beamed, writing out the title of the game in big letters for everyone to see.

“The name of the game is...UNO!"

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

(Thank you for coming back for Chapter 3# of this story! I hope you stick around for the next one because I plan to make it the last. I've been so busy with life and stuff, it's kinda hard to find time or motivation to write, but I do want this to come to a close while still making room for a bit of fun between Al and the Reader.

For those who asked me to make a tag list, I'm not entirely sure how to 😅. Though I will try to figure it out for the next time I write a short story. Don't forget to leave your opinions behind in the comments and thank you for all the love you guys give me, it means a lot 💜

Stay Tuned! :D

Taglist: @twistedvanillacoffee @diffidentphantom @boldlyenchantingfox22

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #drabbles #alastor the radio demon #fanfic

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songmingisthighs · 2 days ago

Text

Maudit

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xiv - demerit

cursed!jongho × reader

genre : mythology!au, smau

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

wc : 1.7 k

a/n : sorry that this is a bit late, i'm having some crisis irl ✌️

buy me coffee ?

so long i've been here, so long are the stories i've written. of what i gathered and lost, loneliness becomes me and pain refuse to depart from me. i've embraced that which ate me away so when you came along, i had no part of me left to give.

You always thought that Jongho was an interesting man. Since the moment you saw him at the supermarket, struggling in the self check out counter and then struggling with using his credit card, you knew he didn't belong.

Initially, you had assumed he was probably from the countryside. Or even Amish, that's why he seemed mildly perturbed with technology. It wasn't until you saw what you initially thought was a tattoo just a teeny bit lower on his neck that you realized that he was someone who had been cursed. Having been a history major, you got severely intrigued which was why you followed him out of the supermarket and eventually wore him down to the point of getting him to employ you by simply pointing out how much he needed you to survive the modern world. Being near someone who had been around during and through historical events, often hearing snippets of how it was in the past. It was worth all of the headache of managing his estate and personal affairs. To a certain extent of course, he still wouldn't let you in too deep, especially about the reason for his curse.

So seeing him wandering about in front of your campus, trying to peek in was almost equally intriguing.

"You don't seem like you belong."

Jongho snapped his head when he heard your voice and without him realizing, his shoulders relaxed and his chest felt less heavy.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, arms crossing in front of your chest to shield you from the evening breeze which Jongho mistook as you trying to seem tough. "I came to see you," he said, shoving his hands into his pocket, as if what he said was the most normal thing he could say. You nodded slowly in acknowledgment, "I can see that. You have been asking around for me to random people? Why?"

At your question, Jongho's fingers felt slightly tingly. He had prepared to say what he wanted to say after his talk with Hongjoong and he knew he needed to, it was just rather hard, to say the least. Jongho didn't know if it was pride, shame, or a sense of ridiculousness, but any or all of it made him slightly lightheaded and so he took a seat on a nearby bench.

Seeing this, you slowly sat next to him and waited.

"I... I don't think I'm human anymore," Jongho started, idly looking anywhere but you.

"What, do you think you're a vampire or something?" you joked, causing Jongho to give you a deadpanned look before he sighed, "No, nothing like that, it's just..." he paused for a moment, thinking of a way to share his point. "I've been living far longer than humans meant to live, I've seen more things than any other person has, and trust me when I say that it was mostly bad and I can't get out of this state. Trust me, I've tried. I'm human but I live as if I'm not and it still boggles me to this day so at some point, I decided to just... Not be. I decided, that the thing that made me human was emotion and attachment and they were the things that made it hard for me to move on, go forth with the long sentence I have to endure so I let it go. I let the human side of me go and it didn't occur to me until you came along that it was wrong of me to let that happen. However long I have lived, I'm still human after all, nevermind the company I keep. So... (y/n), I'm sorry for the way I have treated you. You were so patient and so understanding with me, not to mention very helpful and yes, while I reward you with a fair wage, I did not reward your proactive kindness whatsoever so please, please come back to me so I can prove to you I'm not a complete monster and that I can make it up to you."

To say that you were surprised was an understatement. You were flabbergasted because you wouldn't expect to receive such confession from Jongho. Out of all the things you imagined, this scenario would not even make it to the brainstorming session.

You shifted in your seat before opening your mouth, "Jongho, what... What made you say this?" you asked, genuinely asking and your voice conveyed pure curiosity, no hint of mockery or suspicion which Jongho didn't fail to recognize. "Not seeing you after leaving just like that made me uneasy. I hated the thought of me subconsciously hurting you and forcing you away and even pushing you to quit working for me because I was just... A big idiot," he stated, looking away from you so he could maintain his composure and not say anything stupid to preserve his... dignity?

"So... You thought that I wasn't gonna come back and the thought was so bad that you actually come here to hunt me down even if you don't know if I was gonna be here?" you couldn't help but crack a grin at the notion. Jongho sighed exasperatedly but there was a slight redness dusting his cheeks that was conveniently hidden by the dark. "Well, it wasn't like I didn't have any plan. You kind of announced your whereabouts on social media and I just... I had to try," his voice got lower and quieter nearing the end but you caught everything perfectly thanks to the quiet surroundings. "Uhuh, but you still came out here JUST to look for me, right?" Jongho seemed to be even more embarrassed and when he turned to look at you, you had to admit that his annoyed face was adorable, like a sulking bear cub. "If you're just gonna mock me, I'm just gonna let you be and find another history enthusiast to help me survive or something. Or maybe I'll just suck it up and ask Yeosang hyung or something because believe me when I say that it took courage and preparation to come here, you hear me? I didn't even-"

You knew that Jongho rambles when he's embarrassed and he tends to not stop until someone stops him so you had to take action. You grabbed his arm which effectively stopped his rambles. "Jongho, I never planned on quitting work. I left a note on your desk to let you know that I had to take some time off because I have finals. I initially thought about sending you a text or something but after our last interaction, I was feeling petty so I decided to just leave a simple note. I swear it's there, you must've not seen it," you pointed out. Slowly, Jongho's face changed to confusion and you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning before he answered, "B-b-but I didn't see any note, at all! I checked my desk and hell, not just my desk, I checked everywhere because Wooyoung hyung went to Seonghwa hyung's library and I had to make sure in case he-"

The look on both of your faces was priceless as the possibility dawned on you two. For a moment you both could only stare at each other before you broke into a fit of chuckles as Jongho face-palmed himself. "I'm gonna kill him," Jongho muttered to himself, dragging his hand down before he stopped grumbling to look at you. It was odd, he was usually annoyed with your antics but this time, after he bore himself to you, he realized how much he liked the sound of your laughter. Even after your laughter died down, your smile seem to make him feel lighter.

"So... You were always planning to come back?" Jongho asked, this time seemingly less... Animated. You nodded at his question, "Yeah, of course." "So... I was worried for nothing?" he mumbled, cheeks feeling warm again. Luckily for him, you giggled and shook your head immediately, "Hey, it wasn't for nothing, Jongho. Had you not worried, you wouldn't be here right? You wouldn't have made the realization, conclusion, and determination, and we wouldn't have this talk which I'm so glad for. I've always wanted to be closer to you not just because you're an interesting person, Jongho. I also wanted to do it because I don't just consider you as someone I work for, I want to be on a more personal basis, you know? So I'm super glad this happened," you grinned, giving him assurance.

Hearing your response made Jongho glad and with the same determination, he nodded to himself, "I'm glad this happened too I guess. But, I promise, once you're back, I will try to be more open with you. I can't promise anything instant, but I can promise to try. Does that... Does that sound okay?" It came as no surprise that you enthusiastically nodded but the reassurance that you were okay for him to try with you felt really nice.

Remembering reality, Jongho cleared his throat and stood up, shoving his hands into the pocket of his pants, "W-well, I should let you get back to... The inside?" he glanced at the building. Realizing that you still had to go back to studying for your test, you let out a huff but nodded and stood up, "Yeah, I guess I have to go back now." Jongho nodded and motioned for you to go in. You nodded at him and waved as you walked backward to the entrance, "Bye Jongho, thank you for coming. If you have anything to say, you can text me and I'll make sure to answer you." Jongho didn't even notice that he was smiling when he nodded at your offer, "Sounds good. Good luck on your test, (y/n), I know you'll do great," he waved.

Truly, having the talk with Jongho made you feel giddy. So as you turned and jogged back inside the study hall, you felt even more ready to tackle your test. Maybe because you wanted to do well, but maybe because you wanted to get it over with so you could go back to work. Either way, you had Jongho to thank.

network :

@cultofdionysus @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@dinossaurz @redzie02 @stayatinykatsy @tinyelfperson @allisonleannn @yukichan67 @phenomenalgirl9 @dawn-iscozy @aestheticsluut @krustycangrejo @teenyfinds @kirbrary @thedistractedwriter @gxlden-bxbyy @huachengsbestie01 @charreddonuts @that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict @velvetskize @do-you-remember-summer-127 @borahae-reads @domfikeluva

@roronoas-wife

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lemotmo · 1 day ago

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I’m honestly really worried right now with how nasty this has all gotten so fast.

I feel so bad for Oliver. His entire storyline he’s waited years to tell has now completely been hijacked from start to finish thanks to Lou and his cult.

The disgusting things being said about Oliver. About Ryan. The show itself. All with Lou liking and engaging with them playing up the poor me card with them.

Like they are literally demanding Oliver be written off the show as punishment and any future Buck scenes they already filmed scrubbed out. I saw a few say deport Ryan back to Mexico and then write Eddie off by sending him to Texas permanently and send Buck with him. Some saying Lou should have been kept on and Oliver let go.

Like it’s all insane. And none of them deserve it because they didn’t do anything wrong. No one misled or promised or lied. They have been open and transparent about BT from the start. Tim literally said at the very beginning this was an entry level relationship. No wedding bells.

I’m also getting worried the network is going to pull the plug on buddie because even if it’s not us doing it, they might not wanna deal with the insane blowback these people are causing and will cause when buddie happens.

Don't worry Nonny. Like I said before, Oliver will be fine. Ryan will be fine.

Oliver has disabled comments on his post on Instagram because he knew exactly what was coming. They are both probably avoiding social media right now, but I'm also certain they'll be back as soon as the worst is over.

The show never made any promises about BT. On the contrary, they made it very clear, since day one, that Tommy was there to be a plot device. Eddie was all over the BT narrative in both seasons. In season 8 BT were still in the same place they ended in season 7. There was no growth whatsoever. Also, there was no buildup at all for them. Tommy just existed next to Buck in episode 5, but there wasn't one single sign of physical affection. Even in episode 6 there was only a cheek kiss. It reminded me of Eddie kissing Ana when he returned home after the shooting. A single cheek kiss. We all know how that relationship ended.

I wouldn't worry too much about the network. It seems bad right now, because they are all being loud and obnoxious, but the BT fandom is actually quite small compared to the Buddie fandom and the general 911 fandom. Their voices will be drowned out by all the positivity in the end. These BT stans will stop watching the show, but it won't even make a dent in the ratings. There's only a few hundred of them.

I checked Instagram and I've already seen so many positive comments, saying it was one of the best episodes of season 8, praising all the actors and crew for their hard work.

So don't worry. ABC knows exactly what Buddie could mean for the show. It would most definitely increase the popularity. Bi Buck already brought in a lot of people (some of them who have already left us again since Thursday evening), but a lot of them are here for the bi representation and they are here to stay.

So imagine how crazy things would get if Eddie would turn out to be not so straight after all and very much in love with his best friend? And Buck finally figuring out who he really wants?

The episodes leading up to them finally getting together would draw in so many new people who heard that those two 'gay firefighters from 911' are finally getting together after 7 loooong seasons.

ABC doesn't care about a few hundred people throwing a tantrum under a social media post. They do care for ratings and making a profit. That's it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tell you one thing though: After what he has done? Lou will never ever work on anything for ABC again, which means that we won't ever see him back on 911 and that's a beautiful thing. 😏😆

#nonnies galore #L complaints #BT fandom #T fandom #BT breakup #BT fandom social media behaviour

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wowbright · 3 days ago

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It's wild looking at my life trajectory of being a young journalist who would have loved to work at The New York Times or Slate or NPR to someone telling spouse over breakfast, after said spouse said they heard/read on these three sources that "the Black and Latino vote gave the election to Trump":

"You really need to stop turning to these sources for analysis. They are fine with straight news. But when they want to do commentary or analysis, they focus on the thing that they find most interesting and surprising and likely to grab your attention, not the thing that is most significant for the outcome"

and then i whipped out the numbers from the NBC exit poll showing that black voter support for Trump had a 0% change since 2020, with black men's support for Trump going up by a single percentage point and black women's support for Trump dropping by 2%.

Commentators are making a big fucking deal about a 1 percentage point change among black men without pointing out that black men make up only 5% of the electorate so that change had zero effect on the election outcome and likely would have continued to have absolutely zero effect even in a much closer race.

I think it's curious that commentators in "liberal" media have decided that this is somehow comparable to the much larger shifts toward Trump in other demographic groups, including Latinx and young people, especially young men. Or, more significantly, the fact that the majority of white people voted for Trump.

Even with the shift among Latinx voters, the percentage voting for Harris (53%) was far higher than among non-Hispanic whites (43%).

I also think it's curious that their commentary talks about members of minority groups "deciding" elections when more than 70% of the electorate are white.

"Oh," spouse said. "They didn't point any of that out."

Of course they didn't. Because that would mean they would have to focus on white people. (I acknowledge here that white men voted for Trump and larger numbers than white women. But also, it appears that the majority of white women voted for Trump, and certainly in larger percentages and raw numbers than Latinas or black women or "other"s.)

If white people who had voted for Trump had voted instead for Harris, that would have affected the election outcome, too, wouldn't it?

But somehow, that is not interesting to the media, because 'white people' is just some abstract immutable force and the individuals who make up that population actually have no agency in the choices they make. /s

Commentators need to stop acting like white people are just going to keep white peopling no matter what, so it's the responsibility of POC to save us from ourselves.

Fuck that bullshit. I don't care if you grew up in the whitest white white town in the whitest county in the whitest state in the Union. White people are just as responsible for our choices as anyone else. It is absolutely bullshit to talk about POC "deciding" the election while ignoring the white elephant in the room.

This is what people mean when we talk about white supremacy. It doesn't mean that every white person thinks that they are better than everybody else. White supremacy means treating white beliefs and choices so much as the default that we forget that they are *beliefs* and *choices* anymore.

White people make up the majority of the electorate. The majority of white people voted for Trump. That is not true of any of any other racialized voter group for which I was able to find statistics.

If we are going to say that any one demographic group "decided" the election, then we are going to have to say that it was white people.

Editorial comment: I feel like this should be obvious from everything I've said above, but to be clear, I think it's bullshit to say that any one demographic group decided the election. Each one of us is responsible for our choices. It's not useless to look at demographic trends, but it is useless to blame entire demographic groups for how the election turned out--unless that demographic group is a self-selected one like "people who had the opportunity to vote and voted for Trump and/or did not vote for the only viable alternative, Kamala Harris."

#us elections #election 2024 #statistics #racism #white supremacy #new york times #npr #slate #misinformation #disinformation #in medicine we talk about clinical significance versus statistical significance #I feel like talking heads could learn something from that #us election #us politics #journalism #information literacy #media literacy

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isa-ghost · 20 hours ago

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I had a dream that Phil joined another smp and we eneded up getting more q!Phil lore and now that I woke up I'm lamenting it's not real ;;;;

Bits I remember is him reaching the End with someone else through almost a glitch? Like they were leaving the nether just as a ghast tried exploding the portal and it took them theyre. But like Phil finds a message for him in there? With a green feather in it.

So he follows the message and finds a secret base in the Overworld where he runs into Chay and Lullah???? But as if theyd hatched and became proper players. And it seems fine cause it's Sunmin and Ama voicing them but Phil feels a bit wary (and theres a point where "Lullah" makes a joke in portuguese instead of spanish and Phil corrects her) so the vibes are that it's something mimicking them or straight up hallucinations.

And after he leaves we get revealed that he's still somewhat possesed by the Ender King???? As in the jerk figured out a way to do the more subtle possesion and just influencing Phil and making him forget chunks of time where he was more in control.

I was gonna get villain Phil in my dream and now i'll never know how it goes ;;;;;;

Holy shit that's sick??? Omg???

Allow me to take thos and run for a moment, imagine with me real quick:

My personal belief is that person he went to the Nether/End with was Fit or Etoiles. Or maybe Pierre. Those are largely the people he'd break shit with.

I fuck SO HARD with "Ender King never fully left Phil's body, he left a shred of himself in him Just In Case and it's undetectable (for now)."

I don't know why I'm so stuck on the green feather. Like... Who or what could that be? Idk why I'm so hooked on it, something about that is just so compelling but I've got nothing as to how to run with it. Though for him to find the feather with the message and then find the kids hatched,,, Idk, maybe Chayanne has feathery wings that are green (bc you KNOW Lullah's would be purple).

Also possibly fake Chayanne and Lullah ooouuuuhhhh... Consider: It IS them but that shred of Ender King is amplifying Phil's already usually easy-to-trigger paranoia. Not to mention we don't know how long after QSMP this is, the kids could have plenty of time to change and learn. It'd make sense that Lullah would want to carry on her memory of the Brazilians by learning Portuguese and even if not that, it's not unreasonable to say that During QSMP she could've picked up plenty of Portuguese things from the Brazilians themselves. It's just that Phil has never heard (or perhaps doesn't remember ;D) her making such references.

This is post-QSMP ending since you said it was a new SMP. This is post Death Family finale. As far as Phil knows, his kids are either dead, asleep forever, or hatched into crows back home in Hardcore. How could they have left there to hatch? It's too good to be true. He refuses to believe it's them (at first) because he doesn't want to get his hopes up. He doesn't want to reopen that wound, it's not even closed yet in the first place!

AND THE SPICE OF HIM STILL BEING PARTIALLY POSSESSED. THE KIDS NOT KNOWING YET AND HAVING TO REALIZE IN REAL TIME AND HAVE THE HORROR DAWN ON THEM. AUGH. Like when they see him for the first time, it's SO CLEAR he's doing TERRIBLE and not even just because of the partial possession.

He hasn't been readjusting well to being alone in Hardcore again. He's disheveled, he clearly hasn't been sleeping well, he's closed off, standoffish, a little cold. Not the warm, chill, smiley father still fresh in their minds. He's resistant to making new friendships on this new SMP because he hasn't overcome the pain of saying goodbye in QSMP and is he Hyperaware that eventually he'll have to say goodbye again here and he Does Not Want To. He is just Not doing well mentally and you can physically see it when you look at him.

The fucking spice of the kids not being around to be vigilant and catch that shred of EK sooner, the fact that Phil's been in such a bad state that EK has just been free to fester inside him. And you KNOW the kids would blame themselves for not being around to be vigilant.

Phil doesn't know EK is still hiding in his body yet, he doesn't Know what's festering inside of him, and it's actually hard to say if he'd do anything about it if he Did know because he's so depressed and hurt, he's still grieving. After all, in canon, Phil was very upfront with the kids post-possession that if anything ever happened to them again, he'd give up and just let EK take him.

But I bet you Chayanne and Lullah would remember him saying that as soon as they clock that there's a shred of EK lurking in their dad. And they'd be TERRIFIED that it's on the verge of becoming a reality.

Dude your dream is COOKING, even without me taking it and stretching it out like this. I'm going insane. /pos

#qsmp #philza #qsmp philza #q!philza #chayanne the egg #qsmp chayanne #qsmp lullah #lullah the egg #chayanne and lullah #death family #qsmp death family #Isa's Crow Shitposts #Isa's QSMP Shitposts

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skateordiebitch · 3 days ago

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I loved the proposal fic! You're very talented <3 Please don't ever stop feeding the fandom! Another request: Dom having this huge crush on you and being flirty and touchy all the time, sending you songs, making excuses to talk to you but you don't take him seriously because of his reputation (we all know that boy is a cheater lol) but then he grows on you and you realize he likes you for real.

Sorry if this is messy or confusing but I'm sure you can turn this into something good because you're a great writer!! <3

you are the right one || D.F. x reader

'you are the right one and i'm just the boy who is lookin' at you, so what will i do?'

summary: charming? absolutely. loyal? that was up for debate. dom has an insufferable crush on you, and his reputation is as messy as his pick up lines.

you guys really have no idea how much it means to me that people actually read these omg. like WHAT?! thank u so much for all the support, and i've been absolutely loving these requests! please submit as many as ur hearts desire frl.

this fic is inspired by 'you are the right one' by sports. enjoy! <3

Dominic was the kind of guy who could charm a rock.

He was always around—at parties, at coffee shops, wherever you happened to be, he’d somehow appear with that half-smile and a glint in his eye.

The look that said he had all the time in the world to flirt with you.

It wasn’t a secret that he had a reputation, and you’d heard plenty about it. So when he started paying attention to you, you took it with a grain of salt.

He was practically notorious.

His name was synonymous with scandal; the stories floated around like smoke in a crowded room, filling every corner. He’d been caught sneaking out of afterparties with one girl, only to be spotted cozying up with another a few nights later.

People talked about him like he was a force of nature—someone who left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, yet somehow still managed to charm his way back into everyone’s good graces.

Known for giving others a little too much attention, sending flirty texts to way too many people, and for leaving relationships messier than they started.

You’d heard it all.

Which is why, despite his insistent attention on you over the past few months, you’d tried not to take him seriously.

He had a way of simply popping up at every gathering, every coffee shop, every late-night hangout. And no matter where you went, there he was, leaning against a doorframe or lounging in some corner with that half-smile.

It was the look of a guy who knew he was being watched.

Every time he leaned in a little too close or casually dropped a line about how he couldn’t get you out of his head, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you of his reputation.

You’d seen him in action, laughing too easily with strangers, that familiar gleam in his eye whenever he found someone new to capture his attention.

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

It almost seemed like a challenge to him, as if winning you over would prove something—not just to you, but to himself.

Dominic was nothing, if not persistent.

—

It started off with little things.

You’d see him at a party, and he’d make his way over, leaning just close enough to make your pulse race.

“Hey,” he’d say in that low voice of his, like he was letting you in on a secret. “Fancy running into you here.”

You’d roll your eyes. “Not that fancy,” you’d reply. “You’re here every night.”

He’d laugh, brushing it off. “What can I say? I’m where the action is. And apparently, so are you.”

Or even one night, at a mutual friend’s house party, he caught you in the kitchen, pouring a drink.

“Here we go again,” you muttered as he sidled up, practically beaming.

“What?” He feigned innocence, leaning against the counter like he had nowhere else to be. “I’m just here for the ambiance.”

“Sure,” you replied dryly, stirring your drink. “Not here to bug me at all.”

“Bug you?” He placed a hand over his heart, looking deeply wounded. “Why would I bug the most interesting, most beautiful person in the room?”

And as time went on, you realized he was doing a pretty good job of getting under your skin. He was funny and had this odd knack for showing up exactly when you needed a laugh.

But, it was all smooth talk, and you knew better than to read into it.

—

He would even pop up in your messages with carefully curated playlists and random memes at odd hours. One night, at nearly three in the morning, he sent you a song. You clicked it, half asleep, listening to the slow, soulful lyrics.

“Seriously? You’re sending me Drake at 3 a.m.?” you texted back.

His reply came almost immediately: “What? I just thought you’d appreciate the vibes. Don’t you like it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, even though you knew better. “It’s fine,” you replied, trying to sound unimpressed, “If I was a prepubescent boy.”

He shot back, “Ouch. I pour my heart into a late-night playlist, and all I get is ‘fine’? Remind me not to be romantic with you anymore.”

“You call that romantic?!” you teased.

He responded with a winking emoji. “You’d know if I was trying to be romantic. Trust me.”

You laughed, but kept your guard up.

That was just Dominic—he never quit.

He sent you song after song, funny memes at all hours, anything he thought might make you laugh. He’d slip compliments into the conversation when you least expected them.

Charming? Absolutely. Loyal? That was up for debate.

You knew he had a habit of leaving a trail of broken hearts in his footsteps, and you weren’t about to fall for it.

But, he was relentless. He seemed to show up everywhere, always ready with that same easy charm.

—

One day, you found yourself sitting outside on the patio of your favorite cafe when he strolled by, immediately making a U-turn to come sit next to you.

“Need some company?” he asked, his voice dripping with faux-casual charm.

“Mmm, not particularly,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Perfect, because I’m excellent at being unwanted company,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you and leaning in. “So, I have a dilemma. You seem like a good person to solve it.”

“Oh really?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of dilemma?”

“Well,” he drawled, pretending to look serious, “I can’t figure out if I should ask you for your number… or just keep showing up everywhere you are and hope you’ll take the hint.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “You already have my number, Dominic. Remember when you sent me that completely unnecessary playlist at three in the morning?”

He grinned. “Ah, yes. That was for your listening pleasure. And it was absolutely necessary, by the way.”

“Dominic, please,” you paused, “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were following me.”

“Me? Follow you?” He grinned, looking scandalized. “I would never! I just happen to have excellent timing.”

“Should I file a restaining order against you or something?” You chuckled, sipping your drink.

“C'mon, you wouldn’t do that,” Dominic purrs, “How would we be able to swoon over each other? Maybe, you're just everywhere I go. Who says… you’re not my stalker?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off, but the truth was, you’d started to enjoy the banter.

“You’re so full of it, Dominic. Your ego is gonna spill out of you someday.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning in just enough that you could smell the faint hint of his cologne, “Maybe, I just like being wherever you are,” he said, his voice playful but sincere. “Ever think about that?”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s it,” you replied, rolling your eyes. But when he looked at you with those eyes, warm and mischievous, it was hard not to feel the tiniest flicker of something more.

There was something infectious about his easy confidence, the way he didn’t mind looking silly as long as he could make you laugh. You were starting to understand what all of his other girls saw in him.

He seemed to notice the crack in your defenses and leaned closer, voice low. “Give me a shot. One date. No games, no flirting with anyone else.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “I’m not exactly into sharing, Dominic. And word on the street is you’re into… well, everyone.”

His expression softened, but there was still a glimmer of that charming confidence. “What if I told you I’m into just one person now?”

“Yeah?” you challenged. “And how long’s that going to last?”

“As long as you want it to,” he murmured, leaning close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You say that now. But I don’t have time to be just another girl in your playlist, Dominic.”

He straightened, putting his hand on his chest in mock offense. “Wow. You really think I’m that bad, huh?”

“Honestly? Yes, I do,” you said, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face.

"Why is that?" Dominic asked, as if he was genuinely perplexed.

You tilted your head, giving him a look. “You really want me to list all the reasons?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms in that casual way of his, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Go on then. Enlighten me.”

You took a deep breath, pretending to count off on your fingers. “Let’s see… for starters, you flirt with anything that breathes, you’ve got a track record of, I don't know, cheating on people, and I’ve heard more stories about your ‘endeavors’ than I can count. Should I go on?”

His smile didn’t waver, but something in his eyes softened as he listened, really listened. “Alright, fair points,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “But maybe I’ve grown up a little. I'm ready to settle down. People change, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident. “People change, but Dominic, you’re—well, you’re you.”

He laughed, and for a moment, it was as if the whole world faded away, leaving just the two of you in that charged little bubble.

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a shrug. “But what if I’m tired of being that guy? What if I want something real for once?”

There was a flicker of sincerity in his voice that made your heart do a little flip. You glanced away, unsure of what to say, feeling a warmth in your cheeks that you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Look,” he continued, his voice softer, “all I’m asking for is a chance. No strings, no expectations, just… a chance to show you who I really am. I promise I won’t pull any tricks. What do you say?”

You hesitated, trying to ignore the excitement sparking in your chest. A part of you wanted to say yes, to give him that one shot. But there was also that voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the things you’d heard, all the stories that seemed impossible to ignore.

But then you met his gaze again. He wasn’t grinning or trying to charm you with a clever line. He was just standing there, his face open, honest, like he was waiting on the edge of something.

“Fine,” you said finally, surprising even yourself. “Prove to me that you've 'changed,' and I'll give you a chance.”

He let out a breath, a grin breaking through. “Deal! I swear, you’ll see. I'll show you that I'm the guy you've been searching for your whole life.”

You shook your head, laughing at his confidence. “Big promises, Dominic.”

He gave a playful bow, pretending to be serious.

“You deserve nothing less."

—

And, in the weeks that followed, things started to shift.

You found yourself looking forward to his messages, to the way he’d light up when he saw you, to the little moments where he’d brush his hand against yours and you’d feel that thrill you couldn’t deny anymore.

He was actually... proving something.

He was still the same Dominic—funny, charming, a little ridiculous—but there was something deeper, something real that he was finally showing you.

He kept sending you songs, but now you listened to them more closely. They weren’t just random choices—they were songs that held meaning, songs that made you feel like he was trying to tell you something without saying it out loud.

You guys actually sat and talked for hours, the conversation flowing naturally, the usual teasing giving way to deeper things.

He shared stories about his family, about the things he wanted to do that no one else knew.

And for the first time, you caught a glimpse of a Dominic you hadn’t expected—a thoughtful, almost vulnerable side that he rarely let anyone see.

—

On one Thursday evening, Dominic texted you out of the blue:

“Come to my show tomorrow night. I’ll even reserve you the best seat in the house.”

You’d almost laughed out loud. The confidence. The nerve. Yet, his invitation was so open, so brazen, that you found yourself hesitating to reply with your usual sarcasm.

Instead, you typed back, “Best seat? And what does that entail?”

“A chair within arm’s reach of me at all times,” he replied instantly, adding a winking emoji. “So I can serenade you properly, of course.”

Rolling your eyes, you typed, “I’ll think about it,” but you knew you’d already made up your mind.

Maybe you wanted to see him in his element, to see if this easy charm carried over to the stage, or maybe you were just curious to see if he’d actually live up to the hype he constantly built up around himself.

—

The air in the venue was charged with anticipation, warm bodies pressed together, the smell of spilled beer and cheering fans filling the room.

As you pushed your way closer to the front, a sight caught your eye—a single chair with a handwritten note taped to it.

“Reserved for my stalker,” it read in his sloppy scrawl.

You rolled your eyes but smiled, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. Somehow, Dominic had managed to make this loud, chaotic place feel... personal?

The lights dimmed, and the murmuring crowd hushed as Dominic appeared on stage, guitar in hand.

His usual confident grin was there, but something else lingered beneath it—something softer, maybe even vulnerable. The crowd cheered, but as he adjusted the microphone, his gaze found yours, and it held there, unblinking, like he was trying to tell you something without words.

“Hey, everyone,” he said into the mic, his voice a warm, familiar sound. “I’ve got a few new songs for you… some just for fun, and… one for a special someone, who might know who they are.”

His eyes stayed on you for just a moment longer before he looked away, and in that second, a ripple of curiosity and warmth spread through you.

He started to play, fingers gliding over the guitar strings with ease, and then his voice filled the room.

The song was slow, raw, each note lingering in the air. His lyrics were unexpectedly honest—about someone who held him at arm’s length, who had walls around them that he’d do anything to tear down.

He sang about working harder than he ever had, about falling for someone who wasn’t swayed by his charm but made him want to be better.

You sat, utterly captivated, your eyes locked on his, and it felt like there was no one else in the room.

The song had an intimacy to it, like he was peeling back layers you hadn’t even realized he had, and it struck you right in the heart.

When he sang the final line—If I set fire to these walls right now, would I set foot inside your mind? And if you say yes, am I allowed… back in?—a shiver ran through you.

As the last note faded, the crowd erupted in cheers, but Dominic’s gaze stayed on you, as if to say, ‘Did you hear me? Did I finally prove myself?’

The rest of the show was electric, each song a pulse of energy that had the crowd moving, dancing, singing along.

But nothing else hit quite the same way as that first song, the one that felt like it was made just for you.

By the time the show wrapped up, you were buzzing with emotions you hadn’t expected, wondering if you’d been wrong about Dominic all along.

After the final song, you made your way backstage, weaving through the crowd.

When you found him, he was standing by himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead, looking a little nervous—a side of him you’d never seen before.

His face lit up when he spotted you, but his usual smirk was gone. Instead, he looked almost shy.

“Hey you,” he said, voice a little breathless. “You… you made it.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing smile. “Yeah, I made it. Figured I’d give you a chance to show off.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, did I? You think maybe I made my case?”

You hesitated, but then nodded, your voice softer than you’d planned. “Yeah... I think maybe you did.”

There was a beat of silence, then he took a step closer, and his hand brushed against yours. It was a small touch, but it sent a shiver up your arm, and suddenly the air between you felt charged, like you were the only two people in the room.

“So… there’s something I’ve been wanting to do,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. He lifted his hand, tracing his thumb lightly along your cheek. His fingers trembled slightly, a sign that he was holding back just as much as you were.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. “Yeah?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “What’s that?”

In answer, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to slow, the noise of the crowd dimming until all you could hear was the soft hum of his breathing.

His lips brushed yours, tentative and gentle at first, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

It wasn’t like any kiss you’d had before.

It was slow, unhurried, filled with the kind of warmth that made you forget every warning you’d given yourself about him.

You could feel his heartbeat against your own, his fingers curling into your hair as if he was afraid you might disappear.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, and there was no hint of that usual confidence. He looked… hopeful.

“Think I could finally take you on a date?” he asked softly, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You smiled, feeling your walls crumble in a way you hadn’t thought possible. “Don’t make me regret it, Dominic.”

He let out a laugh, warm and relieved, his eyes bright with something that looked a lot like joy. “I won’t,” he promised, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Not this time. I mean it.”

And as he stood there, holding you close in the dim glow of the backstage lights, you felt something click into place.

You didn’t know where this was going, or if he’d really changed for good, but in that moment, it felt like enough.

#euphoria #dominic fike #dominic fike fan fiction #dom fike #my writing #dominic fike imagines #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike x you #fan fiction #fanfiction #requests #requests open

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melit0n · 1 year ago

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Fields of Elation is the most underrated Sleep Token song send tweet

#the whole of One tbh #Two gets a bit more attention because of Calcutta and Nazareth but I barely hear people talk about FOE #honestly I think the first time I heard 'your name is a sin I breath like Oxygen' I got whiplash #and in older clips when it used to be on their setlist Vessel put his whole SOUL into singing it #I've even heard people say they don't like it like what are you on about??#sure it's not TMBTE or Alkaline or whatever but by God above it's filled with so much visceral yearning and it drives me MAD #where are the Feilds of Elation truthers please #sleep token #Feilds of Elation #st

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itsmygarbagepail · 1 day ago

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Fun(?) anecdote from real life: I know multiple people who were raised in a woman-only feminist lesbian circle in the 80s where they all raised their kids together. Like, they were really trying to make a man-free micro society thing happen, lived together in women-only houses, started their own women-run businesses, and obtained semen through various means that didn't include a relationship with a man. They were really serious about this.

About half of them went on to have children. And some of them had boys. Or at least children that were assigned male at birth. They also had girls, obviously.

I don't think this setting was good for either the girls or the boys, and I know some samples of both.

The ones that were assigned male at birth, really struggled for multiple reasons:

They were initially part of this really supportive and kind community, showered with love and affection from a lot of mother figures. But around 5 years old, some of the women stopped being comfortable with having those boys in their spaces. Which means boys were kicked out of the only community they knew, and the only community their moms were a part of. At 5 years of age. Holy abandonment issues, batman.

They were surrounded by women who thought that all of humanity's problems were caused by men. They were surrounded by women who thought all sexism was the fault of men (surprise! a lot of misogyny is perpetuated by women! it sucks but it's true!) They were surrounded by messages that said that women were victims and men were violent, harmful beings.

They were told a lot that they had to be very careful to not talk over others, to respect other peoples' boundaries, to be gentle and kind, etc, which is great as far as it goes- but they weren't told about respecting their own boundaries, or stepping up for themselves, or protecting themselves from harm.

About half the women in that group were what was called at the time a 'political lesbian' which means they were choosing to ignore their attraction to men because they thought men were, to put it simply, bad and not trustworthy. Do think of the message that that sends to their children.

If you were thinking that this would lead to some really depressed individuals who hated themselves/their gender/their sex (and not like, in a trans way, but in a "men are abusive assholes, and I'm a man, therefore I must be bad despite a lack of any evidence to support that position" way, along with a feeling that you're doomed to be an asshole), who ended up getting taken advantage of and hurt by others, you'd be right. Really, really depressed. And hating every part of them that is considered masculine . That is not, needless to say, healthy.

But that's just the amab side. I've known a few women who were raised in that setting and:

They were taught that they had to be tough, and assertive, and make them selves heard.

They were taught that men are bad, and men were looking to hurt them

They were taught that men are not and cannot be allies, and will never be able to learn enough to be a good ally

So, as adults:

They automatically think they are smarter and more ethical than men.

They think men will never understand feminism (even though it's really not that difficult of a concept??? Like, seriously. It's not hard.)

They end up being straight up mean to their sexual partners (because being lesbian isn't infectious, so most of them are straight) and other male loved ones; being disrespectful, not listening to them when they bring up issues, belittling and shaming them.

Thinking that men are always wrong, so making fun of them for say, wearing sun screen. Yes, really. Sun screen.

Straight up tell men who were raised by the same feminist lesbians they were, who were taught feminism explicitly by their (shared) mothers and again in college, that lived and breathed feminism from birth, that they just couldn't understand sexism or feminism, and that they could never be a feminist.

Pigeon-hole their amab quasi-siblings as sexist and pathetic man babies, despite their siblings' partners explicitly saying, "no, he does more of the house work than I do. No, he's more emotionally skilled and does as much or more of the emotional labor than I do. No, we're equal partners. No, actually, we're both agender, so stop putting your (stupid) gender essentialism on us."

Have a huge double standard- if a childfree woman doesn't know how to change a diaper, that's a non-issue. If a childfree man (with vasectomy even) doesn't know how to change a diaper, well clearly he's sexist and just expects women to take care of the babies.

When one of their amab siblings comes out as trans, completely flip their behavior from the above, and immediately take on the protective, let-me-show-you-the-ropes big sister role. Has the person changed? Nope. But they're no longer a man so now their feelings matter.

To their credit, the women that were raised this way that I still talk to have gotten better, once enough women and assorted non-men pointed out their behavior. So, yay, growth.

The folks who were assigned male at birth? They're doing better now; I've managed to convince the one that I'm married to that they're not evil because of their genitalia, and I've even managed to convince them that they don't have to let other people belittle them and trample all over them.

In sum, I think we should teach everyone to both stand up for themselves and be assertive and also to be able to listen to and respect others. To maintain their own boundaries, and respect other peoples' boundaries. To be kind, to themselves and others.

i used to be a kind of 'i think we need spaces with no men but in a trans-inclusive woman-positive way' person but the more i grow i think that whole idea is pretty flawed from the core? because like, 'no men' is reactionary thing by nature, but it also, like people much more learnt than me have said, suggests that the only way to create meaningful feminist spaces is by excluding men entirely? and 1. thats not true and 2. that bodes badly for a feminist future! as badly as some people might want it we are not becoming lesbian geckos any time soon.

the ways in which its flawed definitely interface w transmisogyny - and i think some antifeminists describe ideology like this as 'segregating the genders!!' in a way thats Wrong, but like, it's important that if we want a feminist future, people who might be percieved as men are accepted and allowed to learn and treated as people with equal potential to create a more just world and some of them become women and thats awesome and some of them dont, yaknow? fundamentally it comes back to the radfem idea that 'the people i think are Men have a sort of Evil Particle in them' being so unconducive to a meaningful feminist movement cos it prevents people from sharing their own experiences under the patriarchy and forming solidarity. it also positions the ultimate conflict of society as Men vs Women which very handily erases a lot of other lines of oppression in a way that benefits the white women who perpetrate it.

thats my feminist thinkpiece for the day

#uh #this turned into more of a rant than I intented #but it is history #and I do think more people need to know we already tried the sepratist route #and it sucks

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