#It's very 17 year old fucking around with a 14 year old behavior

[bijoumikhawal]

bamarren posting again. It's interesting that like, Pythas was Garak's closest friend, and also more... socially aware than him? Garak remarks on himself as grown and a man and all that at the time but there are quite a few ways where he comes off as childish, or at least severely inexperienced with the social environment of Bamarren, such as the first time he got a beating. Which, spitballing, is probably a result of him primarily being socialized as an upper class servant or spending time with Tolan, who really had no interest in toughening him up the way an all male military academy-adjacent environment would expect.

But Pythas is also 1) service class 2) visibly effeminate. In his case, maybe his sponsor prepared him for the environment he'd be in, or noticed his aptitude for it. But notably, Pythas is the one who notices Garak after the beating, empathizes with him, and helps him get revenge without getting caught.

And they're certainly not attached at the hip, but after Garak is severely injured in the competition, Pythas is the one keeping an eye on him and his health, reminding him to breathe, making sure he can stand up with his cane properly, etc. And when Barkan initally approaches Garak about the competition, the two of them are practicing after school (specifically something Garak isn't good at and Pythas is) and Barkan waits until Pythas leaves and Garak is alone.

If you think about it, there's not just solidarity but a sense that Pythas is protecting Garak- which makes the fact that he reported Garak's affair with Palandine and his Oralian Way visits to Tain so bitter, and Garak also never seems to blame him over it. It doesn't turn Garak's feelings towards him to a combination of hate and love, he never indicates dislike at all- which, I could be misremebering but I part of that is probably that Garak doesn't find out until after he's returned to Cardassia I think. Even in The Calling, we don't get hate, even after Pythas advocates putting him in a permanent coma (which, okay, everyone else was considering killing him).

[lorbanery]

Someone has definitely written a fic where Terry McGinnis realizes and has to come to terms with the fact that his parents kind of fucked him up, right?

Like, he's Batman. Batman deals with fucked up families. Eventually he's gotta learn to recognize the red flags of an abusive household, of how kids act out when they're being mistreated at home, of what are appropriate consequences for behavior and how that changes based on the kid's age.

And I know the show tries to go out of its way to be like "well Terry really WAS a pretty badly behaved kid" like ooohh he was in JUVIE for a whole FEW MONTHS but also like

Let's really think about this for a second

This whole "Terry was a Bad Kid" narrative ultimately hinges on one particular event: His arrest alongside Charlie Bigelow. Now I don't think they ever mention how old Terry's supposed to be during the series, and they certainly never mention how old he was when he and Charlie got arrested. But we DO know that the arrest happened 4 years before the events of the series because in the episode where all of this backstory is elaborated on, they mention that Charlie's sentence was 4 years. Now, Terry's in high school, which narrows his present day age to between 14 and 18; but the fact his mother got custody after his dad died makes it pretty clear he can't be older than 17.

So if we're GENEROUS.

If we assume that Terry is 17 during the events of the series

that he's 17 when Charlie's released from jail after serving a 4 year prison sentence

that would make Terry, AT THE OLDEST ... 13 years old when he was arrested

thirteen

years

old

when his parents got divorced

thirteen years old

when his mother declared that she couldn't deal with him, that his father was the only one who could "control" him, and gave up custody of TERRY, but not of his little brother

thirteen years old when his parents SPLIT UP him and his little brother, who had to have been a kindergartner at the oldest at the time

Like this is cruel. With the exception of some extreme circumstances, you don't do that to kids. You don't just separate siblings like that. Like, not to say that it doesn't happen, just to say that I don't think I'm off-the-mark in assuming that pretty much every modern child development expert would very much suggest you DON'T DO THAT. Like I know there are folks out there who know very well how it feels, but for the rest of us just imagine being thirteen years old and your mom says she wants custody, but only of your sibling, she doesn't want custody of you.

PERSONALLY

I THINK THAT'S PRETTY FUCKED UP

Oh and let's not forget that it is at least heavily implied if not outright stated that this divorce was at least partially triggered by Warren suspecting Mary of cheating because these two redheads gave birth to two kids with jet black hair. Yeah I wonder why a tweenage Terry was so angry and spending a lot of time out on the streets instead of at home where his parents were constantly fighting about whether or not he was "actually" their kid?????

And it's not like she changed her tune about him after he moved in! At even the faintest WHIFF of rules bending she was ready with an accusation of Terry going back to his old ways. DESPITE him completely turning himself around. Like juvie worked for him the way authoritarians want it to! He spent a few months in juvie after doing One Bad Thing, got scared straight, and decided he was never going to do Bad Things again. Hooray! The fictional criminal justice system works! Sure he was still getting into fights, but he was doing it to try and help people. He did his time, he turned his life around, the boy is an A student, he's had four years proving himself Not a Delinquent. Yet Mary McGinnis is CONSTANTLY jumping on any excuse to assume that Terry's up to no good.

And I will admit that she's probably justified in jumping to conclusions initially upon finding drugs in Terry's backpack. But I still find it a bit EXTREME, given, again, his recent history up to that point, that Mary refuses to even CONSIDER believing Terry when he says they aren't his and he's not using them ... until he gets a drug screening.

And don't even get me started on the way Matt talks about him. This kid is in elementary school there's no way he's come to the conclusion all on his own that his older brother who, as far as we know, he hasn't even SEEN in FOUR YEARS is just a delinquent who's always secretly up to something. Oh but he's been living alone with Mary this whole time HHMMMMMMMMMM

I'm harping a lot on Mary here, but listen that's just because Warren's dead and so we only got to VERY BRIEFLY see him and Terry interact. Given that brief interaction? I don't have a problem assuming that he treated Terry much in the same way, as a delinquent constantly on the brink of a relapse. he just benefits from being killed off for Plot purposes so we can't see all the ways that plays out like with Mary.

Anyway it kills me every time Mary McGinnis treats her son like shit and Terry goes all

*pained bishounen face* Even if I didn't do what she's accusing me of, I still deserve her suspicion and I can't blame her for it.

[aespabangedbang]

you’re right, i dont think smut should be written about ANY real life person but you would listen even less if i brought up that point. i only saw your post because people were talking about how people were writing nsfw content about a freshly 18 year old.

“You could make a fuss about non con or underage” and i do. that is even worse. but there is always something worse so you are unfortunately not exempt from criticism.

“How about Hwasa who is always down bad? Even she didn't consent any of us.” well yes! you are so close to getting the point!!! in general just because a woman is open in her sexuality doesnt mean you have the right to sexualize her. there is a difference between sexualizing yourself and others sexualizing you. you quite literally reblog SLO MO clips of idols dancing because in their normal speed there is nothing sexual about it😭😭you are going out of your way to actively sexualize something not sexual. even if in some depraved world it was the same, how has eunchae ever acted in such a way? especially since has been less than a MONTH since she turned 18. again dont sexualize something nonsexual!

“People start having sex from 16 gives you an idea that 18 is old enough” people start having sex at 14, does that make 17 old enough by your logic???? i’d hope not!

it can be hard to have people go against your opinions, so i hope that eventually you grow and realize how weird your behavior is and reflect on what i am trying to say but for now i wish u the best and hope that you will at least try to understand my points :)

I told you anon, "Morality don't exist in smut community." So all the point I mentioned before still standing valid.

Now tell me why am I the only one you are so interested about? I am a new face around here. How about you preach to the veterans in this community?

About Hwasa entire world know she is a bad bitch. She is literally fucking all the rich folks left and right since her rookie days. You are defending the wrong person.

There is absolutely no difference between someone sexualizing themselves and other sexualizing them. It's not like they are doing it at their bath, they are doing it on stage for their fans IN ORDER TO GET SEXUALIZED.

Those slow mo clips were already sexy, people made them slow to give a better glimpse at the assets at display. What do you think when Le Sserafim, Viviz, Kiss of Life or aespa throw it back? They are still sexy at full speed. Me reblogging slow me simply imply nothing special.

When did Eunchae did anything like this? Dude, I am a fic writer. Well filthy fic writer but not, in any way, a historian. What I write, as you can see, never happened!

Don't sexualize anything non sexualize. Ok, best of luck staying virgin for the rest of your life.

17 is more than old enough. Everyone just following the law when they talk about 18.

I understood all of your points and it only shows you don't understand the very first statement I started this answer with.

SMUT COMMUNITY DON'T HAVE ANY MORALITY.

I literally start my smuts with this warning for good natured people like you.

[poppyandzena]

I think this should be clarified for any newbies that wander in. We don’t believe a 17 year preying on a child is the same as a 6 year old being involved in the COCSA incident. HOWEVER, we don’t have hard proof that Poppy wasn’t a young child when the incident occurred. We only have vague statements, and Poppy’s claim she was a young child. We don’t even have contact with the alleged victim.

Poppy’s supporters and normies aren’t going to take your word for it that she assaulted someone as a 17 year old. This is a serious allegation, and you at the very least need the victim's testimony.

There are literally hundreds of screenshots of Poppy and !Zena psychologically and emotionally abusing Noeh and Poppy’s kid. We have dozens of screenshots of her acting like a sexpest. This shit is bad enough. You don’t need to push things that we don’t have evidence for.

Thank you. Fucking around is over. Like it or not, the legal system is now involved. I'm getting really tired of this reckless disregard for consequences. Seeing it from Poppy and Zena is exhausting enough.

For the actual fucking lawyers reading this--I, Heloise, am not claiming Poppy is a pedophile or has had legally prosecutable interactions with minors. Poppy is a horrible person. She is psychologically abusive towards adults and her lack of sexual restraint is deeply problematic. If I see actual evidence--not conjecture based on Poppy's rancid coomer vibes--my statement will be subject to change.

Art of a furry child alter in a questionable pose is not legally prosecutable, and the one I saw isn't even porn. Listing on a fetish site that you are willing to roleplay as a 14 year old, as an adult to other adults, is not legally prosecutable. Showing lewd art in a server full of minors to the discomfort of said minors could flag as criminal. Admitting to "replicating CSA on another child" is absolutely insane, but we have practically no supporting evidence, no substantial timeline, and no consent from the victim to even unravel this properly.

I 100% find the behaviors I listed above as reprehensible. They're disgusting. I can point that out with ease. That is not evidence that Poppy is harming children in a way that American law can recognize as a crime. When you start allegeding that Poppy is doing crimes against children with no evidence, you are at risk of libel laws.

Be aware of how the law can interpret what you say. And even if you are outside of America, it does not keep you safe from a suit.

[clay-cuttlefish]

Finally we've arrived at 52, the series that turned me from a casual reader of a few comics into a full-on DC fan and Question enthusiast. This is the reason I set out on this project in the first place. I love it so much.

#1

This is my fifth time reading this in full, I think, and I still get hyped at this opening issue. Look at my guys.

It's a miracle this came together as well as it did. The omnibus is great for giving some insight into that construction process.

#2

There's just so much in 52 and I can't believe they pulled it off. Part of that is that it's thematically coherent, despite how different the plots are. Grief, reinvention, self-destruction as a means to cope with loss... it all feeds into itself.

In a slightly different timeline I came out of 52 fixated on Booster Gold and stumbled back into the Question later through Blue Beetle, instead of the other way around.

It took 416 issues but they're interacting! They're together! It's paying off!

Renee's heartbreaking spiral into self-destruction is interrupted by this massive dork. I love them.

#3

I really need to read Steel. Captivated by these two.

Skeets nudging the gyro cart owner out of the way is a very good panel. Catlike behavior.

#4

Booster and Bea's conversation is so. Hhh.

In the omnibus, Mark Waid calls Vic and Renee's scene "one of the high points of the entire series", and I'm with him.

#5

Renee and Maggie...

The metahuman hospital's a really cool piece of worldbuilding.

The only plotline I don't care much about is the spaceguys. I still like them, but the bar's really high here and I want to see other characters more.

Wish this was less creepy about Starfire.

#6

Kind of obsessed with Bob the theatre teacher and villain-for-hire, conceptually.

It takes a while for the Black Adam plot to pick up steam so this part isn't quite hitting yet.

Booster having a normal one.

#7

Renee hasn't talked to her mom in three years by this point. Oof.

The exes of all time!

Booster... Ralph blaming him for Ted's death is brutal.

#8

Oh cmon girl you're smarter than this. It's Lex Luthor, when has he ever had anyone's best interests at heart.

At least Ollie's still doing his thing.

Clark hating Booster is so good.

#9

"Smart-ass." "Consistency is everything." He is so annoying!

The John and Natasha fight is great.

#10

Clark taking a page from Lois' book is so good. Ridiculous.

I like Will and Professor Morrow a lot, nice that they're back in focus.

Supernova time :)

#11

His anti-smoking rant...

"I don't owe you anything." Oof ouch my soul.

Big talk here from a guy who spent a decade hung up on Myra.

The one superheroine ass shot I respect is in the "that's a Batwoman" panel because Renee deserves to appreciate Kate's ass.

#12

Besties moment.

Black Adam's plotline is gaining speed.

Oh Ralph.

#13

Oh NO, Ralph.

#14

They both look so good here. Love his stubble.

Desperately want to hear Tot's side of their conversation, and also their previous phone calls, because I'm sure he'd have Opinions about Vic deciding to become a mentor.

Shaking him. You are so annoying!

"There's no such thing as crazy, just behaviour that society has deemed unacceptable." SO true bestie.

#15

BOOSTER...

#16

Oh god, Renee.

Billy officiating Black Adam's wedding is very sweet.

#17

Luthor's superteam is one of the series highlights.

Still very funny that there's just a guy named Hannibal on it. Zero subtlety here.

Oh Lobo. I do not care about you.

#18

He's so silly.

Renee is having truly awful time falling back into old coping measures and he's out here getting scooped and being made fun of for cockblocking.

Booster's shitty funeral still fucks me up. Choosing to believe Skeets intentionally didn't invite people for evil reasons because the idea nobody showed up is too much.

Once again, oh no Ralph.

#18/2

A backup with Vic's origins. It's about right, though I prefer him starting as the Question before moving back to Hub City.

It lists his "essential storylines" as Mysterious Suspense, The Question 1987, and Cry for Blood, which I mostly agree with. Mysterious Suspense is less important but reading a pre-DC story is useful background for the 87 run and it's his only solo option.

[lordystrange]

other anon: “he hangs out with a bad crowd who's a lot older than him and he seems to be quite an impressionable ppl pleaser”

I think people need to look at that for the reality of it then. which is there are 30+ year old people attaching themselves to a (very freshly) 19 year old (who they met at 18 or even younger, so a child), with their own agendas and mindsets. a lot of these people he met on the manipulative propaganda trip earlier in the year where they use his beautiful religion and culture for promo of the country. it’s routine, wasn’t just him doing it. and they’ve kept the contact up. oh you know they love it, freaks leeching off him. and I don’t need anybody saying I’m making excuses for his choices when it’s not the case, I just thought it’s important to note the phrasing in some ways people speak about noah.

because things like “when I was 19 I wasn’t like that” from people mean nothing. congrats I guess! you’re actually still immature for saying that instead of understanding not everyone grows up like you do, so you have some growth to do anyway 😊. statements like that neglect the truth of his age, the fact that it is not the same as all the middle aged people with decades of damage and chances to educate themselves behind them, is he closer to 40 or is he closer to 17? or 14? he is grown enough to make decisions like hanging out with certain people, but that does not stop manipulation and harm done especially for - as other anon said - a people pleaser. I swear people speaking don’t know a thing about indoctrination. has anyone heard of the disease of US patriotism? was that not also bad and shown to be running deep a few years ago? how is that different, especially after an attack that would have the influential adults around you in high emotion likely parroting some ignorant beliefs (because believe it or not, there isn’t a huge jewish population worldwide for uhhh… a pretty well known reason actually! and the fact of the matter is that pretty much everyone knows someone living in isn’treal. many fucking idiots have overblown that attack of course, but the direct emotional ties are real - people just stretched it thin.)

I don’t ask people to justify his actions or make it some parasocial going easy on him situation, it’s just being able to have a wider view of the situation is important and what nobody is doing. instead favoring getting popular tweets and wishing death on him for extremely small things in the grand scheme of politicians and people in govt with actual real influence, or brett for eg. noah is not the person anybody should be prioritizing, he’s an easy target and everybody looks so painfully stupid hating on him daily like that’s doing anything for the cause they all supposedly care about.

don’t even get me started on the amount of antisemitic lean a lot of posts about noah have, that is not or will it ever be ok. you need to learn your history, people, and be careful of dog whistles in your performative rage.

Thank you for the ask.

And you’re right. If we want to be critical about him (which we should be), we have to be critical about the whole situation.

People also seem to forget, that US and Israel are a lot alike. Both are colonizers and their governments are committing actions that are lethal. Yet I don’t see people canceling celebrities who support US.

(I’m aware that the situations are different, but I still think this topic should be talked about more.)

And the age thing is also important to notice here. I was at my dumbest at 19. And while I’d like to believe that age doesn’t matter that much when everyone’s an adult, it does. It just does. I know there were rumours of Noah dating that old guy and there’s nothing to confirm it’s true, but also nothing to confirm it’s not. But if it is true and if he is the ”source” of Noah’s behavior lately, I hope the situation changes.

Very sorry for turning your ask into speculation. But it is honestly a very likely possibility.

[mydarlingdahlia]

Going off because some bitch decided to harass me on anon about my past trauma. :)

First off, anon, I am not going to be answering your asks, as I have already deleted them. Also, I post about my past experiences on here as a way to inform or comfort others in knowing that they aren’t alone. I am not doing it to “seek attention”.

And YOU have absolutely NO right to say if I faked it or not or if my trauma isn’t “valid” in your eyes. Why? You weren’t there. You don’t know the severity of it.

And I’m not going to say that “you haven’t experienced it”, because maybe you have. But that does not give you other reasons to put down others.

“oH bUt It DoEsN’t EvEn HaPpEn ThAt OfTeN!”

You’d be incorrect. About 99% of women face sexual harassment, and that number most likely has not gone down. And 70% of that 99% percent do not fight back. Why?

Because we’re afraid (or at least from mine and some of my family members’ experiences) you or others won’t believe us.

If we seem “okay” then nothing is wrong. But if we suddenly bring it up then you just shoot us down saying “you’re just seeking attention” or “what were you wearing?” or even “you were probably asking for it.”

What the fuck? Do you really think those are valid questions or reasons? Wake the fuck up.

It is not about what we wear, it is not about what we’re doing, it is not how we are acting. Why would anyone on this shithole of a planet ask for something like that to happen to them?

Miniskirts aren’t the cause of rape and sexual harassment. People are.

Babies, literal CHILDREN, are being abused and taken advantage of because “you can’t hold back your urges”. It sickens me that there is a legitimate video of a baby being raped floating around the internet. And people in the comments were SUPPORTING this behavior?

Are you mental? What is wrong with you?

Minors aren’t safe on the internet by any means, and I’m not referring to 8, 9, and 10 year olds (even though we need to watch out for them too), I’m talking about 15, 16, even 17 year old girls that are being harassed. My cousin was catcalled about five times while we were in a public shopping center by two middle aged men.

She’s 14.

And I’m not saying it’s just men (even though it generally is), don’t you DARE go down that road with me.

Look at this article I found.

“But men get raped too—”

AND LOOK HOW YOU HANDLED THAT.

He should’ve enjoyed it? That boy is 14. He never should have had to experience something so horrible like that.

I was 7 and 8. Barely getting to know the world. It’s not because of what I was wearing, I was wearing a frilly pink princess dress. It’s not because of what I was doing, I was at my own birthday party. Unsupervised. Uncared for. I wandered off, and I regretted my decision immensely.

Now I know not to wander off, I learned my lesson that day.

I never, ever, EVER. Want to see ANYONE come into my anon box using hateful words and accusations like one of you did today. It is childish, uncalled for, and VERY offensive and disrespectful. It’s disgusting behavior, really.

I am very disappointed.

However, I will not be turning off anon, because I want to give you guys another chance. If you mess up that chance, I am taking it away. Maybe not permanently, but for a good while.

If you blame the victim, then you stand with the perpetrator.

[terraliensvent]

Hi mod it’s Cass

I am also YOUR number one fan!!! I don’t plan to stay in Terras, just hanging around until I get my art for my trade and then I’m running for the hills basically. The NSFW jokes and the general atmosphere are too much. I’m an adult in a server full of children, and atp given the nonchalance of other members I don’t plan on being in a space that encourages that kind of behavior towards children. I’ll probably make a ticket about it and that’s that, honestly.

I hope you don’t stay any longer than you have to, that place is just a cesspool of toxic positivity. Good luck in there bud 🫡 you’re so much braver than I am. I never really looked at this blog until recently but you seem pretty chill so you’re cool in my book!

post related

omg im having my “senpai noticed me” moment lmao

glad youre taking the initiative to gtfo, it just sucks how that shows more evidence that the terra server is not an environment conducive to critique or serious discussion whatsoever.

the nsfw/suggestive “jokes” have apparently been a continued issue just going based off the stuff i get in my inbox, and mods dont seem to give a fuck since theyre all around 18-20 themselves and dont have the foresight to see how there is true danger in things they think is no big deal.

and actually i wanna elaborate on my issues with mods being so young; when youre a very young “adult” yourself (adult in quotes because imo 18 is only adult in legal terms and most 18-year-olds do NOT have the level of maturity that comes with the title of adult, something amazingly exemplified in the terra server) you kind of blur the lines on minor and adult. what i mean by this is: when youre 18, you tend to think of minors as 16-17 or older teens since thats the stage you were just in, you dont really think about the 13, 14, 15 year olds being as super-young as they are because you were just in high school with some of them. because of this theyll brush more things off as “not a big deal” because, hey, i would make jokes like that with my friends in high school, its not that bad. they dont really realize the different dynamics there are when its online, and just how bad it ACTUALLY is. again, it goes back to that immaturity thing. (theres also something to be said about the way that 17 year olds online are really infantilized while 18 year olds online are treated as just as mature as older adults, AND theres something to be said about the way 18 year olds are constantly pushed into believing theyre more mature especially in art and furry spaces by beginning to create and post NSFW the SECOND they turn 18, but thats a whole nother can of worms)

anyways, maturity rant aside and back to the actual topic of the ask, i appreciate the kindness abt me and my blog :) i plan to stick around in terras because i love watching a trainwreck, but if push comes to shove ill start disconnecting myself from it again.

[queeriboh]

ok speaking of older!Mokuba and unhealthy coping mechanisms, there's one I've been kind of wishy washy on whether to post or not because it requires a silent mutual agreement to go into this with a mature sense of nuance and understand the difference between sexualizing and general discussions of sex. again this is in the context of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and recognizing them as such. teenagers have sex. that's just a fact of life. I'm not going to go so far as to RP Mokuba in sexual scenarios or write smut about him, especially underage, that would be! really gross !!! but I do have headcanons about his experiences there.

because I think when he first starts thinking about dating and sex, around 14-15, he feels like he's too mature to have either with anyone his own age. he's been running a whole fucking company, he looks at other high schoolers and thinks they're so childish and annoying, and convinces himself he won't get to try those experiences until he's legally an adult anyway. but the older he gets, the more he feels like he's missing out on a normal experience for his age.

I usually headcanon Rebecca as his first girlfriend but then I rewatched her first appearance and realized she's younger than him than I thought so idk about that. but maybe he finds another young genius about his own age and thinks, "this is my only chance, even if I don't really like them, at least theyre on the same maturity level as me and I can finally try it."

and it's bad. that's not a good set up for a first relationship. they both think they're more grown up than they really are, and both end up getting hurt pretty bad emotionally. goes back to thinking he'll never get to have a normal relationship. even when he turns 18, other 18 years old will just seem like children to him. he finds himself interested in people older than himself, and he feels gross about that too.

iiiiiiii have one very specific fic idea I'll never write where he does try to come onto Yugi when he's not-quite-17. they've been hanging out for a while as friends and coworkers, he thinks Yugi sees him as a peer, maybe the power imbalance of boss and employee outweighs the age gap. maybe he's a little drunk. of course Yugi is a good person with a good heart who firmly shuts him down. he can't help but see Mokuba as a kid still, even though he's already towering over him in height by now. but it puts a massive strain on their friendship, with Yugi avoiding him outside of any kind of professional setting for a long while.

I think there's a short period around then that Mokuba engages in some. really risky and unhealthy behaviors, but he's smart enough to recognize that sex isn't enough to make up for the loneliness he feels, and ends up distancing himself from it by the time he's really an adult.

[gingersnaaps]

meant to be mine

Kuroo Tetsurou always known the two of you were soulmates. in fact, he'll do anything it takes to convince you.

wc: 4.8k help

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, soulmates trope but warped, childhood friends-to-lovers, feat. Daishou Suguru, character death(not the reader or Kuroo), MANIPULATION, killer!Kuroo, very yandere behavior, romantic in a fucked up way

a/n: this fic leans more plot heavy. for once the sex is both vanilla and consensual, but still!! dark themes ahead

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

You’re six years old when your neighbors move in next door and bring along the kid with the messy black bedhead.

The first time you talk to Kuroo, he’s remarkably shy. The two of you are standing off to the side as your parents get to know each other, exchanging irrelevant pleasantries and how-do-you-do’s, making useless small talk - Oh, your child is about to enter school? Mine as well, what a coincidence!

The only thing he really remembers is looking at you - and feeling as if his world had suddenly shifted.

He waddles over to the grass growing by the side of the road, bending over to inspect the stalks of wilted, flaxen, flowers, searching for the best one. He settles on a daisy, plucking it from amid the weeds, and hands it to you.

He promptly turns beet red and runs the other direction.

-

You’re eleven - right on the cusp of junior high - when he grabs your hand in the playground, twining his fingers into yours as he swings your arm back and forth, and proudly declares that the two of you are soulmates. His eyes shine eagerly, sparkling in the bright sun, and his voice is thick with hope.

You shake off his grip on your hand. “Don’t be dumb,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Soulmates don’t exist.”

A frown falls on his face for a few seconds, but he wipes it off quickly. When he responds, his voice is quieter, a bit more apprehensive.

“You’ll see what I mean someday. Promise.”

You shrug in confusion. You’re not sure what he means by that, but he’ll probably grow out of it soon, because boys your age are all dumb. For now, your biggest concern is where you’ll take refuge during the next turn of a particularly intense game of hide and seek your friends are playing.

-

You’re 14 when Kuroo asks you out. You’re not sure if he means it as a joke or not - by now, he’s grown into his signature smirk, eyes glinting as he casually brings up the subject one day after school.

“Let’s hang out sometime,” he suggests.

“We already do, dumbass.”

“Nah. Just you and me, if you catch my drift.”

He turns around and winks at you. You huff out an amused laugh, because maybe he’s practicing for one of the other girls in his class, one of the pretty ones with long hair and a sweet windchime voice. You’ve seen the way he looks at them sometimes.

But more than that, you really don’t want to risk your friendship. It’s something that’d been built up over the years, something that you never want to lose. It’s the kind of platonic relationship that people write stories about, the fabled power of friendship that sustains high school sports anime and children’s TV shows. Why trade it for anything else?

You swallow down the lump of guilt in your throat, and tell Kuroo that you really don’t see him quite like that. You’re really sorry about it - but you guys are such good friends, and you hope that the two of you will keep being friends.

He shrugs, apathetic, and you feel relief washing over you as you turn around and wave goodbye.

You miss the way his shoulders tense when you turn around, fists curling, his empty eyes boring into your back as you walk away from the school gates.

-

You’re 17 and just about to graduate your second year of high school when he invites you out for a trip to the planetarium.

What a nerd.

“It’s to celebrate,” he tells you. “They’re going to make me captain next year, you know that? Isn’t it cool?”

And it is. You’re genuinely happy for him, so you smile warmly, patting him on the back just like friends are supposed to.

“Congratulations. You deserve it,” you say. You mean every word.

At the planetarium, the two of you walk around as he points out the things he’s read about in those textbooks he consumes for fun. He honestly doesn’t understand why you aren’t as interested as he is in the formation of the Milky Way or the various theories behind the eventual heat death of the universe, but you nod politely and pay attention, so it’s good enough for him.

“See this? They call that constellation Cygnus,” he says.

You wrinkle your nose. “What a weird name.”

He brushes it off, laughing at your comment, and drags you outside to sit under the stars. There’s a special outdoor section of the planetarium that they’ve designated for stargazing, so he spreads out a picnic blanket for the two of you.

When you sit down next to him, his heart drops.

Do you realize what you’re doing to him right now? He can feel the soft, smooth skin of your arm brushing up against him, the thin cotton of your shirt the only border between his body and yours. Your faint laughter echoes at the edge of his hearing, but he’s not really listening.

He’s thinking about you.

More specifically, a future with you. Kuroo wants to come home to your embrace every day, soft and sweet and welcoming, wants to sit down at your table and eat the food that the two of you have cooked together, wants to load up the trunk with heaps of luggage as he drives the kids to family outings with you.

He’s so caught up in his fantasy that he barely even notices when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

When he finally realizes, he smiles gently. He doesn’t mind. He takes a black permanent marker from his pocket, shaking it a few times to get the ink to flow, and carefully grabs your limp wrist. He’s no artist by any means - but when he’s done, there’s a small, delicate image of a daisy on your skin, the ink seeping into the fine lines that run criss-cross over your wrist.

When you wake up, he’ll tell you it’s a soulmate mark and hold up his own matching one. He’ll firmly deny any involvement in its sudden appearance, even as you laugh and punch his arm.

-

You get your first serious boyfriend when you’re twenty years old. A bit of a late bloomer, all things considered, but Kuroo’s constant presence by your side had driven off most of your potential suitors in high school.

He’s witty, sly, a little crafty at times, and extremely attractive.

Daishou Suguru.

A week after the two of you get together, you start gushing to Kuroo about your new boyfriend on a family visit. You’re lounging on his couch, a big, stupid smile on your face, cheeks flushed and warm as you chatter excitedly.

“Come on, Tetsurou. He was the captain of his volleyball team, too. You’d get along great. And have you seen him before? You gotta admit - even if you’re a hundred percent straight - Daishou does-”

Kuroo’s vision goes dark, blurring at the edges, and he feels bile biting into his throat. He’s not sure he’s ever been so overcome with emotion so potent, anger and disgust and jealousy rotting away at his insides, the acidic feeling of rage spreading like ice through his veins.

“Sorry,” he spits, voice thin and harsh. “I got a call from work, so I gotta go. See you soon, alright?” His pupils have darkened, eyes clouding over with some kind of unreadable emotion, and when you look down at his hands, the skin stretched over his knuckles has turned white.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

Hours later, you realize that he hadn’t touched his phone once during the entire visit.

-

Kuroo doesn’t usually let many things get to him. He’s pretty good at distracting himself, at rationalizing away his feelings, at all the various coping mechanisms that he’s learnt over the course of his short life.

But over the next few weeks, he’s able to think about one thing and one thing only.

During the day, his mind clouds over with the most disgusting, intrusive images, picturing Daishou bending you over in the most obscene positions, his hand sliding down your back as he fills your squelching cunt with his dick, his other fingers groping at your tits. He thinks about the way your mouth would look, leaking with drool as you stick out your tongue to drag along the shaft. He imagines the way you’d cry out, soft and sweet, moans tumbling from your lips as foreign fingers slide along the folds of your dripping cunt.

Worst of all, he thinks about the way Daishou probably holds your hand as he takes you on dates, about the way you’d smile when he does it, about the joy that soars in your heart as he tenderly plants a kiss on your forehead. These thoughts plague him at night, creeping into his dreams, leaving him tossing and turning in discomfort for hours at a time.

He thinks about it all, and wishes it were him instead.

And then, a few days later: Why can’t it be me?

This revelation is something that dawns on him slowly, a kind of understanding that seeps into his conscious mind bit by bit. Because if he really thinks about it, it should be him. It could be him. He’s every bit as good as Daishou Suguru - in fact, he thinks he’s better. He’s smarter, taller, and loves you in a way that no one else ever will - and Kuroo thinks that this kind of love, his love, is something you deserve.

It’s something you need.

In fact, he’s going to make sure you get it.

The idea he ultimately comes up with isn’t particularly elaborate, but then again, Kuroo isn’t too concerned about the elegance of his methods. As long as they work, he’ll be more than happy. After all, the two of you were always meant to be soulmates, and if divine intervention doesn’t happen sometimes soon - well, he’s more than happy to do the dirty work himself.

He’d lied to you at that family visit a few weeks ago. He’s well aware of who Daishou Suguru is - in fact, they’d been rival captains in high school, and he still has his number tucked away at the bottom of a contact list somewhere.

It doesn’t take much more than a few texts.

Hey man.

It’s been a while. Let’s catch up.

Just like that, he’s got himself plans for the weekend. The whole weekend, in fact. He’s going to need every minute.

-

Daishou hasn’t changed much since high school. He’s got himself a bit of a different haircut now, with a slightly less aggressive side part, the copper-brown strands cropped closer to his head. He’s approximately the same height, same weight, same slightly crooked posture with his signature smirk plastered all over his face.

Just as easy to dislike as back then.

He arrives at the bar a few minutes later than your boyfriend, showing up in a simple white shirt, as if he’d come here straight from work. He’s more nervous than expected, and he can’t help but feel as if it’s glaringly obvious: his voice is just a bit too wobbly, a bit too high-pitched, the tremor in his hands worsening as he picks up his drink and lets the burn of the alcohol slide down his throat.

But they don’t call it liquid courage for nothing, because just a few drinks later, his nerves have settled down slightly. He feels like his mind has cleared, like his purpose has solidified. He downs another shot, setting the glass down on the table, and feels the tremors in his body subside.

He can do this. He has to do this.

Kuroo feels strangely calm, even as the topic of conversation swings back to you. Daishou mentions how the two of you met, the way he’d asked you out, the plans he has for the future. She’s really nice, huh? he says at one point. I got lucky, I guess.

Lucky, but not for long.

Not if he has any say in it.

The rest of the night passes in a blur - he vaguely remembers the snippets of conversation, the quiet hum of the people milling around him, the warm lights from the ceiling and the cold glass in his hands. There’s no details that stick out in particular, though - not until the end.

He remembers how the two of them walked outside, a comfortable silence settling in the air. He remembers the way Daishou had tried to unlock the car, clicking the remote several times before huffing in frustration. He remembers the way he’d offered him a ride home - My place isn’t so far from yours. I can drop you off.

Nah, I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll get this clunker started eventually.

He remembers the way he insisted, and the way that Daishou had eventually accepted. He remembers the relief in his eyes - Thanks, man I really owe you one - and the way that he’d settled into the passenger seat, completely at ease, completely unaware.

After that, all he remembers is the intense, overwhelming feeling of gratification.

-

In the aftermath, Kuroo watches the news carefully.

The police finds his body at the bottom of a river on the outskirts of Tokyo a few weeks later. It’s bloated, rotting, ugly - covered in silt and grime, swollen blue and gray, chunks of flesh missing from where the animals had scavenged. They say it’s too far gone to be of any use in gathering forensic evidence - he lets out a sigh of relief - but the detectives are going to try their best using the circumstantial evidence available.

Good luck with that. In the meantime, he’s got other things to attend to.

He hates to see you worried sick, but if things are to be considered from a long-term point of view, this really was for the best. The first few days after he goes missing, you come down with a fever and chills, and it only worsens after you hear about his death. You’re stuck in your room all day, moping around, wrapped up in blankets as you sob your little heart out. Your bedroom is littered with tissues, your nose red from the constant friction.

Kuroo brings you chicken soup.

He sets the warm thermos on your bedside table as he sits down beside you, concern written all over his face. He takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Hey,” he greets. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

You offer him a watery smile. “This certainly helps,” you say, holding out the thermos. “It’s delicious. Your grandma’s recipe, right?”

“You still remember?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he smiles. “Yeah. It’s the kind she used to make us when we were both kids.”

Something in his gut twists when your face softens. You melt, sinking into the comforter as you clutch the warm soup close to your chest, your hands gripping onto the sheets beside you. There’s a soft, hazy smile on your face, nostalgia spreading like warm honey through your veins. Your cheeks are flushed with heat, and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Kuroo. I’m glad you came today.”

If he had to pinpoint an exact moment, he’d say that this is when certainty settles in his mind. There’d been small pricks of guilt after he tossed the body into the river, gnawing away incessantly at his conscience, but seeing you like this - loving and grateful, clinging onto his side as he spoon feeds you mouthfuls of soup - this is what solidifies the belief in his mind that he had done the right thing.

Because it certainly feels right to be sitting so close to you. It feels right to have you to himself again, to not have to share with anyone else.

He still hasn’t let go of that belief that 11-year-old Kuroo Tetsurou had clung onto so fiercely. The two of you are soulmates, even if there are no birthmarks etched into your skin, even if there is no red string of fate that connects the two of you across time and space.

The two of you are soulmates, and he’s going to do everything he can to show you that.

-

He plays the long game.

He’s more than okay with waiting a few years, and after all, he wants you to choose him of your own free will.

After Daishou, the rest are easier to take care of. Kuroo becomes more careful with it after a while, taking care to hide the bodies better - after all, it really wouldn’t do to have you crying over your exes’ corpses all the time.

The guys you talk to? They somehow all end up vanishing, one after the other. You always feel so confused, so hurt, eyes tearing up as you realize that yet another one of your friends or dates or boyfriends has ghosted you, or moved away, or just plain disappeared.

He learns to enjoy it a little, too. He appreciates the pained, pleading look in their eyes, desperate whimpers slipping from their lips, hands clawing weakly up at him as he tightens his grip around their throats. Sometimes, he squeezes so hard they squeak. The black and blue bruises that he leaves on their necks are always so pretty, blooming like violets under his skilled fingertips.

And every time, without fail, he’s there to comfort you when it’s all over.

He brings you thoughtful gifts to cheer you up, cherry pies and blueberry scones and beautiful bouquets of daisies wrapped up in ribbons. He takes you out on long walks around the neighborhood, listens to your three am rants, does everything that a perfect friend could possibly do. In some ways, his constant presence takes the edge off of every relationship of yours that falls apart. He really is an excellent conversationalist, and as time goes by, you slowly realize that you’re talking to him more than anyone else.

He inserts himself into all the empty spaces in your life.

Kuroo no longer uses the word “soulmate” in front of you - that’s a conclusion he wants you to come to on your own - but he does tend to insinuate one thing: that he’s the only good thing in your life.

When you come crying to him about the arguments you’ve been having with your parents, he wraps an arm around you, leaning back into the couch, and softly tells you what’s wrong with them.

They’re not good for you, you know that? You’d be better off going no contact, in my opinion. They’re toxic.

Leave them behind.

The first few times he suggests this, you brush it off, but the seed of doubt he’s planted in your head takes root - and one too many arguments later, you press the block button for their numbers through your blurred, teary vision. After all, he’s smart enough to know what he’s talking about, right?

He knows what’s best.

When it comes to your friends, he’s a bit more aggressive with his intervention. He tells you exactly what’s wrong with them - She’s so fucking needy, always look for validation. She’s taking up all of your time. It’s an unhealthy friendship - and slowly but surely, it gets to you. The criticism seeps into your brain, lodges itself into your mind, turns into a little voice that never leaves your side.

And it’s so easy to get into all your social media accounts.You reuse the same password for almost everything, and you don’t exactly keep it hidden well. All he has to do is send a few bitchy messages here and there, block a few of your contacts, and just like that, he has you cut off from the rest of the world.

You’re so confused when you start getting angry texts from friends that you’ve known forever. It hurts to be called those things, hurts to see the people you thought were on your side turn against you like that. Fucking whore, the texts read. I hope you’re happy being a homewrecker. I hope you end up dead.

You never figure out what they’re about, but Kuroo tells you to stop wasting your time and move on, so you dutifully do as he says. It’s not long before you’re spending almost all your spare time with him.

Of course, when you’re around him so often, you start to pick up on certain things that you hadn’t before.

Things like the way he looks in his fitted shirts and tight slacks. Things like the way he smells first thing in the morning whenever he drops by before work. Things like the curve of his neck, the jut of his collarbone, the size of his hands whenever they graze over the surface of your skin. You’d never really found him unattractive - but now, being in close proximity with him everyday, the little things seem to add up, thickening the tension around the two of you.

He feigns ignorance, but he notices the change in your behavior. He’s quite pleased.

He feels like doing something about it soon.

-

“Rough week?” he asks.

You nod. He’s gotten good at reading your moods. You’d been pulling shifts left and right recently, and the bags under your eyes and frown etched onto your face was a clear indicator of just how exhausted you were.

“Let’s help you relax,” he murmurs. “Got any plans tonight?”

Of course you don’t. He doesn’t even have to ask, because you haven’t had plans with anyone besides him for the past few months.

You shake your head, and he hums approvingly.

He’s wearing sweatpants tonight, the kind that hangs off of his hips and outlines the bulge of his muscles, the fabric light and loose against his skin. You swallow thickly.

You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about him this way for the past few weeks, suppressing all the thoughts that begin to crowd your brain whenever he visits you at your place. It’s not right. It’d be taking advantage of his kindness, of his proximity, and you’re sure that if he actually wanted you, he would have asked you out long ago-

You feel the soft brush of his lips against yours, and your brain short circuits.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Y- yeah. More than okay.”

He kisses you slowly, lips parting as he tilts his head, the puff of his breath hot against your tongue. His blunt teeth click against your as he deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to flick along your lower lip, a pleased rumble sounding in his throat as he slides his hand down to your skirt.

His long fingers latch onto the waistband, tugging downwards as you wiggle back and forth in your bed. He presses the pads of his fingers against the cotton fabric of your panties, sliding them up and down your slit, and grins deviously.

“You’re already wet, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks flush with heat, your legs involuntarily clenching back together, but he keeps them parted with his hands. He’s right. Weeks’ worth of arousal has left you dripping, your cunt aching for his touch as he trails a feather light finger along your inner thigh. You want his fingers now, all spread out inside you, stretching you open and taking you apart.

“C’mon, Tetsu, get on with it. No need to point out the obvious,” you say, gritting your teeth.

He grinds the heel of his hand against your clit and you spasm, moaning loudly.

“This good enough?” he purrs, drawing you closer until you’re straddling his lap. He moves his thumb back up to your sweet spot, drawing tight circles on your aching, throbbing clit, his other finger dipping slowly inside your pussy.

You laugh, bucking your hips against his hand, gasping as he slides another finger in and curls them up. “Fuck yeah. Just like that.”

He rubs the pads of his fingers against your g-spot, stroking over the sensitive area until you start to drip down your thighs. You’re so fucking wet for him, creaming over his fingers as he toys with your cunt, his thumb and forefinger working in tandem as you shakily clench around his digits.

Seeing you spread out in front of him, hair messy, pupils dilated, sweat running in rivulets down your temple - picture fucking perfect, in other words - it still feels unreal to him. His eyes are blown wide with adoration as he takes you in, his fingers squelching in your slick, watching you as you throw your head back and whine at his ministrations.

You don’t know how many of these little fantasies he’s had to satisfy himself with in these last few years, how many thoughts and urges he’s had to suppress in the name of self control. Now that he finally has you on his lap, squirming and writhing and dripping on his fingers, he wants nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you until you scream. He wants to ruin your pretty cunt, the one that belongs to him, the one that’s bound to him for life, ram his thick cock into your tight, clenched hole so brutally that you become incapable of coherent thought-

But that can wait until later. For now, he has to ease you into it, show you how gentle and how loving he can be.

He brings his hands up to your hips, lifting you up until the head of his cockhead is pressed against your entrance. “Ready?” he asks.

You nod eagerly, grabbing his waist to try and lower yourself down, but he stills your movements with one hand.

“Hands to yourself, sweetheart.”

Your cunt clenches at the tone of his voice, low and smooth and entirely too pleased with himself, legs shaking as he drives your pussy down onto his cock in one smooth motion. The sweet drag of his cock inside your velvet pussy has you shuddering, his length brushing up against the sensitive bundle of nerves twitching inside you. Once he seats you on his cock, he holds you firmly in place, his large hands squeezing your ass.

He moans softly at the way you squirm, rutting your hips against him, the back-and-forth motion heaven as you squeeze his dick, searching desperately for more friction, more movement, more stimulation.

When he finally starts to fuck you, he does it slowly, deliberately, dragging out each thrust until you feels you pulsing around him. He likes to watch the way your features twist, bliss written all over your face as your lips drop open and eyelashes flutter weakly.

“Please, Tetsu,” you whimper. “I- I’m close. Don’t stop.”

And how could he ever say no to you?

He pushes you over the edge with sweet words murmured into your ear and deft fingers toying at your clit, his cock pounding steadily into your sopping hole as you cry out. Your orgasm washes over you in waves, your stomach tensing as you convulse, pleasure pulsing in your cunt.

“That’s it,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Just like that.”

He’s a little more breathless now, a little more flustered, hips bucking up into you as you squeeze and clench around his cock. He cums right after you do, fingers digging into your flesh, muttering curses under his breath as his thick cum pools inside you and drips down your inner thighs.

He’s loved you for forever, ever since the two of you had first met, and now he’s marked you as his for eternity.

The two of you are panting quietly in the dark, skin sticky with sweat as he exhales into the crook of your neck. You squirm in his lap, his cum pooling around the base of his cock, and you feel him twitch inside of you.

In the warmth of the afterglow, there’s a certain sense of clarity that settles into your head.

You think back to the way that Kuroo has stuck by your side for years and years, even as the other men in your life had come and gone and eventually disappeared, even as none of the other relationships in your life had worked out. When it came to pursuing other men, you’d always found yourself left with tear-stained pillowcases and a hollow sense of disappointment. But Kuroo? He’d practically been there since the beginning - in fact, he’d been the one who fixed you up each and every time, picking up the broken pieces that the others had left behind.

And maybe, just maybe, what you’d been looking for all along was right in front of you.

“Tetsurou,” you sigh, fisting your hands in the fabric of his shirt. “I think we’re soulmates.”

His breath catches. Tetsurou. He’s waited his entire life for you to say his name like that.

“Soulmates, huh?”

The next morning, you wake up to the image of a small daisy inked on your wrist.

if you liked this, please reblog/comment! masterlist found here

[haechanniesunflowers]

NCT 127's reaction to your kid misbehaving with you

Warnings: bratty kids, disrespect, smoking, weight conscious theme, a lil mention of blood, just spoiled kids idk I can't stand bratty and spoiled kids if my future kids ever misbehave with y'all let me know I'ma handle them

Requested by @glossiiipeach

Taeil

Taeil knows how to be a good parent, he's the oldest hyung of 22 other boys. Can't nobody tell him how to handle his kids because he's dealt with Haechan.

He wakes up in the middle of the night and stretches his hand out to hold you, he doesn't feel you there. Getting out of bed he goes to look for you but hears faint voices and follows the source. He's standing outside his 17 year old daughter Jiwoo's bedroom. He's about to knock on the door when he makes out what she's saying.

"mom didn't I just tell you that we're being careful? we're young and don't want a child of course. Why can't you understand that. Now give me back my pills and get out of my room"

"you're 17 Jiwoo. I'm worried about you. What if something goes wrong? And he's not the type to settle down. I don't want you to get hurt please"

"my God mom you're so annoying stop it please leave I'm getting angry"

Taeil can't believe what he's hearing and it's making him lose his mind. He enters Jiwoo's room making her and you shocked. He sees the pills in your hand and looks at Jiwoo. She's beyond embarrassed. Taeil tries his best to contain his anger, taking deep breaths. Nope he can't handle it.

"what's going on?" he asks, not actually wanting confirmation.

"Taeil honey, let me handle this" you say

"does she deserve your compassion y/n? She doesn't even know how to respect her mother, why should I go easy on her?"

Everyone goes silent.

"tell that man to come over tomorrow, I want to meet him. Let's hope he's got some manners because you clearly don't" he says to Jiwoo and leaves the room taking you with him.

Johnny

Johnny is a great partner and parent. He's like a friend to his 14 year old twin sons David and Jacob. They share everything with him, tell him their secrets, their relationship with you guys is built on trust so you guys are cool with each other. But that doesn't mean that they can do anything they're not allowed to do.

You're in the kitchen preparing dinner, Jocob helping you not only because he's closer with you but because he's a member of the family and he knows helping around the house won't make him any less of a man (yes I said equity) you guys taught your children well I'm so proud of you. Johnny comes home an hour early and sets the table (I love this family so much ugh) while Jacob brings the dishes. You go upstairs to wake David up since he said he'll be asleep. You softly knock on the door several times but he doesn't answer so you quietly open the door only to see that he's not in his room. Johnny comes upstairs too to change into comfortable clothes before dinner.

You see the bathroom door open to you wak over and just as you're about to call David's name you see him leaning against the shower wall, smoking a cigarette. In a state of anger and shock you stomp towards him and slapping it out of his hand.

"what is your fucking problem mom" David screams.

Did Johnny hear it right? Are his ears playing tricks on him or did he just hear 14 year old David not only just raise his voice at you but also use a curse word with you. He's there in an instant, face twisting with anger. Someone please save David from Johnny now.

He takes the cigarette from your hand and examines it before turning towards his son. "did you just curse at your mother?" Johnny is scary man. No one says anything.

"we'll talk about the cigarette later. I can't have my boys disrespecting my wife, under my roof. So why don't you repeat it for us, I want to hear it up close". He says.

"no I'm sorry, she scared me" David says quietly.

"oh that's not what I overheard" Johnny says, he won't let him get away with this.

Taeyong

You and him only have one child and have planned to have another when your first born is older. So naturally your 12 year old son Minho was loved and spoiled by everyone around him. He could get away with almost everything. Almost. And disrespecting anyone wasn't on the list of options. You don't let him indulge in technology a lot and send him to the playground instead. You and Taeyong don't realize it sooner that he's surrounding himself with older boys who teach him bad things just for the fun of it.

He comes home one day and straight up yells for you to make him his favorite chocolate shake. "mom make me my favorite drink right now".

You look at your mother-in-law who is visiting you for the weekend and excuse yourself. "Lee Minho where are your manners? Go meet your grandparents" you say glaring at him. He rolls his eyes in return.

"umm no I don't want to right now, and where's my chocolate shake".

"Minho what are you saying, what's wrong with you. I'm telling you to go and-"

"and I said I don't want to. I'll meet them when I want to meet them. Got it?" he says angrily.

Taeyong hears the commotion from his room and comes to see what's going on. He hears the last sentence Minho said and quickly comes closer to you two.

"what was that Minho?" Taeyong asks, his aura dark.

"I don't want to talk to anyone right now and she's forcing me, tell her to stop" Minho is just asking for trouble now.

Taeyong looks at you apologetically and then to his son angrily. "come with me" he says, taking his son by his arm to his room. He's gonna talk some sense into that spoiled kid, oh and he's grounded and Taeyong will personally have a word with those boys Minho's been playing with.

Yuta

We all know our man is woke af and got big brains. He's a friendly but strict father, his sons Hiroto (15) and Fubuki (10) know better than to make him angry. But his daughter Ayame (13) is his weakness and he goes easy on her. Maybe that's why she thinks she can trash talk to you without consequences.

You guys are going to meet Yuta's parents in Osaka and everyone is told to be on their best behavior. Hiroto and Fubuki comply but Ayame has an attitude because she would rather hangout with her friends. Yuta is driving the car and you're in the passenger seat.

"move omg you're touching me" Ayame complains and shoves Fubuki towards Hiroto, the latter sending her a glare.

"Ayame sweetie be nice to your baby brother" you say.

"ugh I don't get why we all have to go. I had to cancel my plans with Aoi and Natsumi. I could meet grandmother and grandfather some other time when I wasn't busy" she complains. You, Hiroto add Fubuki all look towards Yuta to check if this sudden outburst made him angry because it's his parents she's talking about. You can tell by the way he cocks his eyebrow for a second and the way he's gripping the steering wheel that he's getting annoyed. So you decide to tell her to stop.

"Ayame stop complaining, it's not like we meet them every day. They're very sweet and you kids know they love you so much".

"this was your stupid idea wasn't it mom" and with that Yuta stops the car and faces his daughter.

"what makes you think you can talk to her like that" he asks rhetorically. Ayame is speechless, she wasn't expecting this. Yuta thinks the world of you, he's seen you being sick during your pregnancies and the troubles of carrying his children. He's noticed how your body has become weaker and changed. If anything, he loves you even more for being strong and going through it. He's in awe of you and he can't let anyone disrespect you. His brain can't accept it.

"take your words back and say you're sorry right now" he says in a serious tone.

"I'm sorry mom" your daughter apologizes immediately.

Doyoung

Doyoung and you put in extra effort to teach your children the best manners. You guys did succeed but weren't prepared for this surprise. Your daughter Yuna (12) got into a fight with your son Hyunjin (14). It started with them arguing over the remote and escalated to the point where Hyunjin hit her in the head with the remote and pulled her hair. Yuna screamed for you. You and Doyoung were asleep in your room when you heard her scream. You quickly got out of bed and ran to see what had happened. Yuna came running into your arms, crying hysterically. Doyoung followed you, confused and scared. He sees Yuna in your arms crying her eyes out and you're scolding your son.

"Hyunjin how dare you hit your sister"

"it's not like she wasn't a part of it, I was watching the game and she tried snatching the remote from my hand"

"does that mean you hit her head and pull her hair? You're so mean apologize to your sister"

"no shut up" he says annoyed and immediately covers his mouth.

"hey! you shut up and go to your room, you're grounded until I say so" Doyoung says before you could say anything.

Hyunjin runs to his room with his hands still covering his mouth and spilling apologies to you.

Doyoung picks Yuna up and takes you both to your room, calming her down and promising her that he will scold Hyunjin.

"I'm sorry" he says to you, squeezing your hand feeling embarrassed that your son disrespected you.

Jaehyun

Such a loving husband and father and an only child, he did everything in his power to make you two happy. He spoiled not only you but his daughter as well. Ever since Jisoo was born, she has been the apple of everyone's eyes. Your parents, Jaehyun's parents and you two all loved her to no end. She got whatever she wanted. This soon got to her head and now she was 15 and asking for a Prius. It was an absurd request because 1, she doesn't know how to drive, 2, she's not legally supposed to drive and 3, what does she even need the car for. You both turn down her request. She's not having any of it.

She's stopped eating and stays in her room all the time. You're both very concerned but you know her wish can't be granted so you try to cheer her up.

You two are in her room sitting on her bed, she's on her phone. You start talking.

"Jae the lobster you prepared looks amazing and I bet it tastes perfect too, if only Jisoo could accompany us at the dinner table, we could taste it", you say.

Jisoo sighs "all I hear is blah blah blah"

"come on y/n, let's have lobster for dinner because Jisoo clearly doesn't have enough appreciation for the hard work put in and she doesn't have proper manners so we'll leave her to think about what she said and when she's ready to apologize, she can come join us at the dinner table" he says taking you out of the room with him.

Winwin

What did I say about OT10 hmm? We have no choice but to stan.

He's the sweetest most gentle man ever I swear just look at him. Everyone loves him so much. He doesn't look like the type to get angry so it really takes a lot to get him there.

He's sitting on the couch reading his group chat texts and you're sitting on the floor with you 16 year old son Minghao, playing a video game. You're better at it than him and you aren't gonna lose just because he's your son. You're about to win when he throws his controller and unplugs the game, making you let out an annoyed cry.

"what gives" you say

"mom can you stop, you're being annoying ugh"

"hey watch it" you warn him and he pushes the books off the shelf in annoyance.

"y/n let's go out for a walk. It'll give Minghao enough time to think about his actions and clean up the mess he's made".

Yup you both really left him to clean it.

Jungwoo

You guys have a pretty strong relationship and everyone can see that. You're there for each other and help the other whenever they need it. Plus you have two beautiful daughters Chaein (16) and Dami (14). Your family is cute, soft and savage. Yikes

Your daughters are very very close with you and won't dare to disrespect you and they often joke around with you.

Ever since you had your girls, you've struggled to lose weight. Your body had gotten weak after child birth so you needed everything to stay healthy but you couldn't seem to lose weight, you didn't have the energy to. You sometimes felt conscious standing next to your husband but he always reassured you that you look perfect and he's maintaining his weight because of his job. You didn't need to be conscious but you couldn't help it.

You had a lot of work to do that day so you constantly had to go up and down the stairs. At one point you had had enough so you stood there trying to catch your breath. Your daughter Dami also came down and was using her phone so she bumped into you.

"my God mother move! you've really let yourself go"

"that's not very nice of you Dami" Jungwoo says coming up the stairs to help you.

"I was joking dad" Dami says.

"we don't joke about these kinds of things in this household" Jungwoo informs and Dami says she's sorry to both of you.

"ooo busted" Chaein comments from her room.

Mark

You and Mark had a similar nature. You both found it hard to get angry but it was easy when it was at Haechan lmao let the boy breathe

Mark was pretty chill with his family and you guys joked around a lot but nothing too serious.

You were currently in the kitchen losing your marbles over Mark destroying the eggs and using a metal spoon on a non stick pan yup he scraped it alright.

"just watch me do it y/n I think I finally got it"

You're sitting still, internally crying over the ruined pan.

"see? I told you I got it" Mark says proudly, putting the destroyed egg on the plate, sprinkling some salt and pepper on it.

"Mark what is this supposed to be, and you ruined my pan. You said you were going to be careful with it. I'm physically in pain just looking at it" you say jokingly. The damage had been done you why not joke about it.

"oh come on mom it's just a pan stop being so over dramatic about it" says your 12 year old son Levi.

"hey don't be sassing around got it? Especially not with your mother and me" Mark says in a serious tone with his finger pointed to his son.

"sorry mom and dad" Levi says.

Haechan

If you thought he's annoying, you've got another thing coming. Say hello to your sons Changmin and Subin. A combination of Haechan and you.

You love them to death but sometimes it gets too much and you need your husband to control them. It's one of those times. They're running around the house with sticks in their hands. You're trying to stop them to keep them from hurting themselves because those sticks are pointy but they're not listening to you at all. You try stepping between and Subin (10) accidentally runs into you with the the stick pointed towards you. It pierces the skin of your leg, drawing blood. You let out a yelp and clutch your wounded leg. Changmin (12) screams for Haechan once he sees the blood. He immediately comes running and gives you first aid. He asks you how it happened and Subin answers it himself.

"I was playing with Changmin and mom decided to butt in!"

Haechan glares at him and is about to school him but you hold his wrist and shake your head no. He sighs and thinks of better words.

"that's not how to speak about your parents kids" he says, disappointed.

[cheryblossomdreams]

A Discussion About Dramione

This is a very difficult ship in the HP fandom, alongside others like Drarry etc.

However, I think there is something to be said for it regardless, since I’ve seen a lot of anti-Dramione content with some valid points and a lot of non valid ones too, so I suppose I’d like a try my hand at rebuking some of them.

1. Dramione shippers romanticize abuse and bullying.

At first glance, it certainly looks that way. Draco Malfoy was a racist, petty, spoiled bully that jumped on every opportunity to bully Hermione Granger and her friends. He is not a good character. In the Dramione fandom, no one claims he is a good character either. Instead, the Dramione fandom recognized the canon potential for change in Draco and uses that to shape their fanfics. The largest majority of the fandom (There do exist those really young fans that don’t quite yet understand everything that will blindly defend him or create extremely problematic fanart, but they are truly a minority) acknowledges entirely all the wrongs Draco has committed, and they are many. Actually, in most Dramione fics, the writers go to great lengths to process the part of DHr’s past that was filled with hatred and insults. You can find examples of this in the fic Measure of a Man by @inadaze22​. Also to the point, most of Dramione fanfiction is written and set in a time many years after the War, after their school years, where they’ve both grown, matured and become adults, changed by time and what they went through, so it is a null point to say Dramione shippers romanticize bullying when their content is almost always set in a time where Draco is no longer a bully and Hermione is no longer a victim.

What the Dramione shippers like to emphasize is the fact that even though Draco used to be a horrible person, he had changed and grown past that, owned up to his mistakes and is now a different man. That’s what the stories they write are about. He had the potential to change already established in canon that he used later through his life to become someone better Hermione could eventually forgive and love.

You’ll be hard pressed to find a Dramione shipper that would say that while they were still in school they should’ve gotten together. Absolutely not. The content most of the Dramione fandom creates is always set post-canon, at a time where Draco’s changed and grown up from who he used to be, and Hermione recognizes his change and forgives him.

She certainly doesn’t have to forgive him, she doesn’t owe him anything, but part of Hermione’s bravery and overall character is that she would have been able to forgive him when she realized he’d changed. Plus, he saved her best friend’s life at a critical point in the war and, even though he did nothing to help her because he literally couldn’t have, which is something I’m pretty sure Hermione would have been grateful for, even a little bit. 

The Malfoy family saved Harry’s life TWICE in HP, in both extremely critical moments in the war (Draco lying at the manor, Narcissa lying to Voldemort), which is something Hermione wouldn’t have been able to just ignore and pretend like it never happened, because that’s not who she is. 

There probably is a very small percent of the Dramione fandom who create problematic content, but every fandom and every ship has toxic shippers, besides they are simply not the majority.

2. Dramione shippers use Hermione to redeem Draco.

The redemption arc Draco got in HP is extremely flimsy at best, especially considering the amount of damage he’d done prior. He saved Harry’s life, yes, but he did nothing to protect either Ron or Hermione, so personally I wouldn’t harp on about that being much of a redemption arc at all. However, I don’t think any Dramione shippers use Hermione to redeem him. In the Dramione content the things he did wrong and the hurt he inflicted is something Hermione recognizes and then, through the story, eventually chooses to leave behind. Besides, she doesn’t have to redeem him, since we know from canon he’d grown out of his beliefs eventually, privately at least if not publicly (more on this later).

3. Draco had a choice in how to act, if he really didn’t believe in blood supremacy.

No, he didn’t. Let me break it down why.

When he was 11 years old and first coming to Hogwarts, he was too young to understand the beliefs his parents ingrained into him were wrong and harmful, he simply didn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend that. He was a child that hung to every word their mom and dad said and he acted accordingly.

As he grew up though, started going through puberty and maturing, he would’ve realized that blood supremacy is wrong. Let’s say this realization came when he was 14. Lucius and Narcissa weren’t with him at Hogwarts, so if he changed his behavior to reflect his new realizations, they wouldn’t have known, right?

WRONG.

Do you really mean to tell me that if Draco Malfoy, only son and sole heir to the Malfoy family, an extremely wealthy, influential family in the Wizarding World and its politics, part of the sacred 28, well respected and with a high status in society, suddenly started being kinder and friendlier to Muggleborns and Halfbloods, people wouldn’t talk? People wouldn’t wonder, get suspicious? That such news wouldn’t reach his father, who’s got eyes and ears everywhere (evident by the fact he was able to bribe someone in Hogwarts to buy his son a position on the Quidditch team). And how do you think Lucius Malfoy, a devout Death Eater, would have reacted to receiving such news? What do you think would have happened to Draco when he came home that summer?

Draco was never abused and I doubt Lucius would start then, but I am positive he would’ve been disowned, for betraying the values his family had upheld for centuries. Lucius is a staunch blood purist and he absolutely would cut all contact with his son (disown him) when news reached him Draco was making nice with Muggleborns and Halfbloods.

And Draco knew this, he knew how strict his father was, he knew how deeply he believed in blood supremacy and he knew the consequences for stepping out of line and being anything less than the perfect son.

What would a 14-year old kid do being disowned? Homeless essentially?

So, even if he had realized the wrongs of his beliefs and renounced them, he couldn’t have done that publicly, and certainly not with Hermione Granger or Harry Potter much less, seeing as Harry Potter is the nemesis of the man his father believes in.

By the time he reaches 15 and 16, Voldemort is already at full power again and living in Draco’s house. Now things get even worse. After Lucius fails to get the Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries, Voldemort decides he has to punish him for his failure by having Draco take the Dark Mark. By this point, Draco had abandoned ideas of blood supremacy, but at this point, what the fuck is he going to do? Refuse The Dark Lord? The Darkest Wizard in all of Wizarding History? The guy who is living in his house AND holds the lives of him AND his entire family hostage? Who could and would murder Draco’s mother and father and Draco himself if Draco disobeyed? The man who murdered a person right on Draco’s kitchen table and had Nagini swallow them whole?

Even if all of that wasn’t true, and it is, how’s a 16 year old kid going to fight off a house full of seasoned Death Eaters, proficient at the Dark Arts who will use Unforgivables on him, plus Voldemort himself, plus a giant terrifying snake?

At that point, Draco is left with literally zero choice but to take the Mark and obey his mission to murder Dumbledore.

He hatches several plots to kill Dumbledore, all of which fail. When they stand at the Astronomy tower, even Dumbledore himself calls all of his plots halfhearted and weak. Dumbledore offers him help, but Draco is very clear in his regret of the things he’d done and the fact there’s no going back now.

‘I have to do this, I have to kill you, or he’s gonna kill me.’

AND

‘What do you know about me? I’ve done things that would shock you.’

(I’m paraphrasing here, these aren’t the exact quotes).

At which point Snape shows up and kills Dumbledore in Draco’s place because of the Vow he made to Narcissa.

Any way you look at it, he really didn’t have any choice, even if he did at some point during school renounce his beliefs and grow past them.

4. He tried to kill Ron.

I’ve seen antis blame Draco for this one, which is a bit ridiculous. He did not. He had madam Rosmerta poison a bottle of wine, which he sent to Horace Slughorn, hoping Slughorn would pass it onto Dumbledore. Filch hadn’t noticed any traces of poison in it, because he is a Squib, he also didn’t doubt a shipment from Rosmerta, and so he just gave it to Slughorn. Slughorn kept it around and then later he was the one to offer Ron a glass of that wine. In Draco’s plan, Ron wasn’t ever even mentioned nor included in any way. It had been an unlucky coincidence for Ron, and Draco couldn’t have possibly known that Slughorn would hold onto the wine, that Ron would ever be around Slughorn OR that Slughorn would offer Ron that same wine. Sufficed to say, Draco never attempted to murder Ronald Weasley.

5. He did nothing while Bellatrix tortured Hermione.

We’ve been over this, what could he have done? He had saved Harry’s life earlier, but that one lie couldn’t of spared Ron or Hermione, their faces were too recognizable, even if Harry’s wasn’t.

A room full of Death Eaters, some of the cruelest, most dangerous ones mind you (Bellatrix Lestrange) and he’d be 17, if I remember correctly, still not even an adult, plus at this point in the war even more powerless (considering the fact the Malfoys had fallen out of favor with Voldemort, evident by the fact Lucius tells Draco that if they deliver Harry Potter to Voldemort, all would be forgiven).

What did you expect him to do? Leap into battle and try to fend off dozens of Death Eaters, effectively betraying the Dark Lord in the process and single-handedly getting his entire family killed, if not even himself?

Would you have done that? No, of course not.

6. Draco Malfoy is not redeemable.

Now Draco’s “redemption arc”, if it can be called that, is a powerful moment but it’s flimsy. JK didn’t really ever intend for him to be redeemed or liked either, but let’s take a look at it anyways.

It is canon that Draco stopped believing in blood supremacy at some point during their school years, though we can’t know exactly when.

How can I say this, when his behavior never indicated that?

Well, I’ve already been over why he couldn’t have suddenly changed his behavior, now let’s go through how I can claim it is canon.

The scene where Draco lies to everyone about Harry’s identity.

That moment could only exist IF Draco didn’t believe in blood supremacy anymore.

Think about it, if Draco was devout to Voldemort and his beliefs like his father, he would have had no problem or conscience to tell everyone ‘Yes, this is Harry Potter, hand him over.’ It would have been favorable to him if Harry died.

And let’s be clear, if Draco had said the truth in that moment, Harry would have died. He was captured, wandless (his is broken, when they escape the Manor he steals Draco’s), Ron and Hermione captured as well, he was entirely helpless and surrounded by powerful Dark Arts wizards and witches who would lead him directly to Voldemort the moment they got confirmation it was indeed him and that would have been it. Voldemort would have killed him. Voldemort would have won.

But that isn’t what happened.

Draco looked at Harry, recognized it was him (evident by a later scene where Harry straight up says that. “Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me, you didn’t say anything.”) and at first, still unsure what to do, asked why Harry’s face was like that, and he’s told Harry just came in like that.

Draco says “I’m not sure.”

At that point Lucius grips him and tells him that if they gave up Harry Potter to Voldemort all would be forgiven, Bellatrix brings him closer to get a second look.

Draco knows all the consequences of what he’s doing at this point, he knows what he’s risking, the literal lives of everyone he loves, and what does he do?

He still lies.

‘I can’t be sure.’

It’s a powerful moment for his character, BUT it’s not enough for redemption. The amount of pain and hatred he’d spewed for 6 years (I say 6 years because The Golden Trio wasn’t attending Hogwarts for year 7) is not redeemed by this one instance. His actions, letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts, likely torturing people on command of the Carrows in 7th year, are not redeemed by this moment, even if he did save Harry’s life.

However, though this instance doesn’t constitute redemption, it is telling of the fact Draco has changed, and changed significantly from the hateful, angry, spoiled, racist brat he used to be, which gives him potential to grow up into a different, better man.

Whether JK intended it or not, the way that was written makes Draco Malfoy more than redeemable, if not for the duration of the books, then later through his life.

Being a horrible person at one point in your life does not make you forever evil, does not mean you can not ever change. To prove this, I’d like to humbly request you to watch this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSH5EY-W5oM

Voldemort’s regime is very similar to Hitler’s Nazi movement, so this video is very fitting to my point and HP in general.

Here’s another three:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORp3q1Oaezw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fw0vS0qvYo0&list=TLPQMTcxMjIwMjBZfqJdkbbQJw&index=2

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4gly9n9RBo&list=TLPQMTcxMjIwMjBZfqJdkbbQJw&index=3

If you don’t have time to watch, let me sum it up for you.

The first video chronicles the story of a man who’d been part of the Neo-Nazi movement, managed to leave it behind and become an activist and overall an amazing guy now.

The other three links chronicle the story of Daryl Davis, a black man who’d attended KKK rallies and even met with the Imperial Wizard of the KKK Roger Kelly, somehow despite all odds became friends with him and eventually managed to get through to Roger Kelly to the point where this man (The leader of the KKK on a national scale) stepped down from his position and left the Ku Klux Klan.

That’s real life, something like that happened, truly happened, but Draco Malfoy is irredeemable?

PLUS, Draco is hardly the first case like this.

Take James Potter as an example. James was also a rich, racist, privileged white boy, and a bully. He’d bullied Snape severely, even set up a “prank” with his friends that would lead to Snape getting attacked by a WEREWOLF, putting him in mortal peril, with great potential of killing him, that required then a rescue operation.

James attempted murder, or if you don’t want to go that far, he set up a situation that quite possibly could have gotten someone killed, and he got to mature and grow past his behaviors and redeem himself, fall in love with Lily and have a wonderful son.

Why couldn’t Draco change when James had?

~

In conclusion, I think there’s a big diifference between what the Dramione fandom actually is and what antis think it is. 

The heart of the Dramione fandom is about growing and changing and maturing and forgiving and falling in love despite the differences of the past.

It’s not about romanticizing bullying or toxic relationships, life is not black and white people, people can change and grow from their past actions and people can also forgive and move on. 

There’s plenty of examples in the books of Harry and Ron mistreating Hermione and they all move past those instances (obviously that can’t be compared to what Draco did, I’m just making a point here).

I do acknowledge that the Dramione shippers have some bad apples among them, some problematic people that take it all too far, but honestly, every fandom and every ship has bad, toxic people so you can’t really use that against them.

All in all, things aren’t the way antis always present them, there’s a lot more gray there, and I hope this entirely too long post helped some of y’all see that.

[polluxdespell]

I posted 571 times in 2021

12 posts created (2%)

559 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 46.6 posts.

I added 583 tags in 2021

#gladstone gander - 136 posts

#magica de spell - 121 posts

#poe de spell - 63 posts

#magicstone - 61 posts

#fethry duck - 42 posts

#grimstone gander - 41 posts

#donald duck - 40 posts

#faustina de spell - 39 posts

#ducktales 2017 - 20 posts

#poe de spell 2017 - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#my idea tho is the first time he transformers back into duck form temporarily he looks like christian bale in the machinist

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Did a lot of short stories for Duckvember. (Some I still need to finish.)

This was my fav I did. Ahhh. Sets up a plot point that's gonna be touched on in my main story somedayyyy.

13 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 06:47:56 GMT

#4

Thinking about that Ducktales ep while listening to 'The Noose' by A Perfect Circle on repeat.

14 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 17:21:02 GMT

#3

I'm still processing the 'Solitude of the 4 Leaf Clover' comic and oh man. OH man. Spoilerish ahead.

1. I had mention of 'luck walks' in one story I have not finished yet. So its so cooooool that was in the comic. Ahhhhh.

2. I feel so betrayed Fethry was avoiding him and Ludwig didn't know he was gone for 4 months like JAYSUS.

3. Despite the Fethry betrayal that shit HURTED, my stories do expose Glad's luck has something behind it manipulating it so I could fit in that comic as hnmn that shady luck thing having an episode at that time.

4. I really was expecting Fethry ditched him cuz they were gonna have a surprise party for Glad's bday or planning for his bday but NOPE.

5. Fact this started on his Bday is all interesting cuz its his unlucky day that was supposedly cured but in my first story I even play with the idea of NOPE IT AINT and thats how the drama in my story arch starts so that's fair.

6. WHAT THE FUCK FETHRY. So disappoint. You gonna get less smooches from Poe in my stories for your behavior sir.

19 notes • Posted 2021-04-04 05:54:59 GMT

#2

I made this for a rp blog, but I thought I'd share this with you!

((Ahhh yes perfect thankssssss!))

34 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 04:28:41 GMT

#1

TALE OF TWO POES

These are just my headcanons for my 87/Comic Poe and my 2017 Poe. I’m trying to write this before the new ep comes because I wanna see how close my headcanons are to the real one. Ahhhhh.

So for my 87/Comic universe starts out with these basic things.

-Him and Magica are twins.

-Actually a pretty nice and chill guy

-Can’t actually use magic but really, really wants to. He has a wealth of knowledge when it comes to magical items and spells, he just can’t use or summon any magic himself. He learns how to work around this problem, though. Very cleverly. He even fooled Eldritch Academy for years. Ha. 

-Has been a raven for 10+ years which has affected his social skills a tad.

-Would do anything for his sister. ;-; Weh.

-Really not villainy like Magica has a redemption arch and he helps her with that (and sometimes his help wasn’t that helpful by accident,) but he himself is just chilling?

 

Really not as villainous as Magica; has a redemption arch, and helps her become a better person. Sometimes his advice/help doesn’t do much, but it’s the thought that counts.

-For being chill, he sure likes poking his nose in things and being a little troublemaker. Magica can tell Poe, “Hey, make sure Gladstone doesn’t do this thing,” and then when Gladstone does that very thing, Poe is half heartedly just “No. Don’t. Stop.” like that Willy Wonka meme. 

-Poe has a lot of “kid at heart” energy, while Magica is the more serious, adultier-adult one.

- I hint that he is trans. Comments like about him and his sister’s different personalities like “Hard to believe we’re from the same egg.” and “That old dress of mine looks better on you.” But not out right saying it.  Wouldn’t it be just his luck when he was turned into a crow he was turned into a male crow and when he was changed back he just happened to be changed back male and was like, “This is all going according to plan.”  Though out of all the villains I can see Merlock being a misgendering prick. Calling Poe She-lock and He-Witch. What an asshole. 

-Gladstone and Poe had become good friends even before Poe is reverted back to his original duck form.

-Poe is Minima’s dad, but there is some drama regarding the entire thing I hope to cover in a story I’m writing. (I’m really close to finishing that one.)

See the full post

46 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 04:39:03 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 7/?)

Chapter 7: Rising Tensions

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

The days that followed were quiet... until they weren't.

A demonstration was being held in the streets on an ordinary Friday morning. Charles Reaves, disgruntled former employee of Cyberlife, had started a frightening movement. He was calling it 'The Fight for Humanity'. He often accompanied that with 'against the machines'.

Charles claimed he had started at Cyberlife when they were a new company, watched it build and grow, participated in the rotation of androids as old models left and new ones came in. He helped build their AI. He even went so far as to call Elijah Kamski a hack.

Charles knew androids inside and out. He knew the exact layout of their internal workings, the purpose of each and every part. Charles was well rounded with their computer components, as well: how their processor worked, how their storage systems saved their memories, what could cause errors in their operating systems and how advanced their self-repair and diagnostic tools were.

Yet, he was of the firm belief that androids were nothing more than computers operating in the plastic shell of an object imitating a human. According to him, they were things owned by humanity, humanity's creation. He did not see them as a part of humanity.

You were at work, in the break room with a few other nurses huddled around you. All eyes were on the television, giving live coverage of the demonstration. Charles was up on a stage with hundreds of people watching from the sidewalk, the street, and, of course, thousands watching from the comfort of their homes.

When the camera swooped the crowd, you could see both humans and androids were in the crowd. The human's expressions were mixed, some looking on with admiration while others gawked in disgust. Some androids seemed afraid, others seemed enraged. None of the androids stood alone. They were in groups or partners, huddled together or holding hands.

"You know what makes up an android? Computer parts. Molded plastic. Silicone mesh and wiring," Charles declared from the stage, fire in his eyes. "They were designed with operating systems, clear instructions for behavior. They are components commanding a shell."

One of the androids in the crowd stood up on a crate. It made him stand out from the crowd; but, he still paled in comparison to Charles' stage. "How is that any different from humans!?" the android shouted. Charles eyed him with disgust, but was quiet, and let him speak.

"Humans' brains send signals to the body and interpret information the same way!" the android proclaimed. "You speak about our parts as if they are proof we aren't alive when humans are built all the same!"

Charles titled his head a little, annoyance present in his eyes. "Humans are the result of millions of years of evolution. You were made in our likeness because we chose to make you that way. We grow and we change and we adapt and we die. Androids never change. Androids don't die because they were never alive."

The android didn't step down, glaring at Charles. "We want and we fear and we love and we feel - just the same as humans!"

"Your 'feelings' are flawed programming by an incompetent programmer," Charles declared. "What you think is wanting is nothing but a fool's string of code jumbling the clear instructions given to you. I know your model, android. You were designed to drive trucks. Whatever purpose you think you have beyond that is a lie."

Your hands were clenched on the table, nails biting into the skin of your palm. In the corner of your eye, you could see nurses glancing at you occasionally, concern in their eyes. They all knew you were dating an android.

"We are alive!" the android shouted. Another joined in, calling out to the crowd, "we are alive!"

"I am alive!" Charles shouted in the microphone. He gestured to the humans in the audience. "We are born and we grow and we endure!" He pointed at the android standing up on a crate, elevated above the crowd. "YOU were made by US! YOU are NOTHING without us! -and you will be nothing when the absurdity of this is over..."

Unable to take anymore, you stood up and hastily exited the breakroom, crossing through the back hallways and stepping outside to get some fresh air.

'did you see the news?' you messaged Connor, tapping away hastily on your phone. You had started typing another message to follow it; however, Connor messaged you back before you finished.

'Can I call you?' the message read.

Worry bubbling up, you decided to jump the gun and called him instead. He uttered your name warmly when he answered.

"Connor, is everything okay?" you asked, some panic in your voice.

"Yes - everything's fine. I didn't mean to worry you," he replied, a bit startled by your outburst.

"No - it's okay," you replied softly. "I saw the protests and - just - was worried something happened."

"There's been more attacks on Cyberlife resource vehicles," he explained. "-and a fight broke out at a protest today. Some androids were attacked. They didn't fight back; so, there were no human injuries. I wanted to prepare you; but, it seems you were already aware."

"I saw the demonstration on the news; but, didn't hear about those things. That explains why it's been so quiet today. Androids are probably afraid to come in," you said sadly.

Connor knew the answer to that. Markus had told him himself. Their numbers had grown exponentially and the government was, mostly, supporting them. But, it would be a long time before things could be normal between androids and humans.

Groups were rising up against them; it was inevitable.

Afraid that you would put yourself in harm's way, Connor decided to keep that between him and Markus.

"With everything going on. I wanted to know if-"

Connor cut off for a second, going silent. When he continued, it was clear he was speaking to someone else. "No, she's fine," he said. "Well, I - that's none of your business, lieutenant," he added on, in a smug, sort of teasing, manner. You grinned into the phone, wishing you could hear whatever it was Hank was saying.

A few seconds later, Connor continued. "I - ah - wanted to know if - if you would stay with me, at my apartment - at least until things settle. As long as you feel comfortable, of course. I intend to make it more suitable. I don't expect you to-"

"Connor," you chuckled. "The answer's yes."

"Oh." He sounded surprised, honestly, like he hadn't expected you to cave so quickly.

"Though, it won't stay so clean with me living there," you said. "Humans make a mess. Sure you can handle that?"

"I'll have you know I'm very adaptable," Connor retorted, some pride in his tone.

"Is that so?" you giggled into the phone. "I've gotta pack some things first. So, I'll be late."

"I don't sleep; you don't have to worry about waking me," Connor stated, as if it was new information.

"Oh, that's right. You're an android. I forgot," you teased sarcastically into the phone.

"Recognizing your sarcasm is also one of my features," Connor replied. It was difficult to tell if he was joking without looking into his eyes. His voice wasn't always telling; but, his eyes were too expressive for his own good.

"Any other features I should know about?" you asked lowly.

Connor was quiet for a second. "Hank wanted me to tell you that being a pain in the ass is one of my features," Connor stated, perhaps dryer than he intended.

It had you doubling over in laughter.

"-and that I should stop being whipped," he added on, saying the word as if he didn't quite understand the context of it.

"Oh my god, Connor-" you stammered out between laughter.

"I haven't lost my freewill lieutenant," Connor stated, almost in an argumentative tone.

Oh no. He must have done a quick internet search on that term.

"Okay. I gotta go before you kill me," you chuckled. "I lo-"

Oh-

You caught yourself and dissolved the words into some coughs.

You almost-

"I gotta go, Connor," you added hastily. "Be safe."

-and hung up.

"Shit," you cursed at yourself, dragging your hand across your face. It almost slipped out. Was it too early to say that? For fucks sake, the first time shouldn't be over the phone.

It just-

-felt right.

You cursed at yourself again and hastily went back inside to find some work to do.

...

...

...

Seven PM rolled around and you were on your way out the door. Most other nurses had already gone home for the day, just one staying behind to help close up. You were just on your way to lock the door when two men approached.

You recognized one as a PL600 model. His companion was a tad bit taller with tan skin and short, nearly shaved, dark hair.

"I'm sorry it's so late," he apologized, immediately noticing you were about to close for the night.

"They're closing, let's-" the PL600 started, facing his companion.

Afraid they were going to leave, you gently interrupted him, "it's alright. Come in."

You held the door open, inviting them inside. The two men exchanged glances, the PL600 looking far more hesitant than the other.

"Simon, come on, it's gonna be fine," the tanner male encouraged him.

As you followed in behind them, you saw the other nurse shoot you a look, the kind that said, 'seriously?'.

"If you wanna head home, I can close up," you offered to her. She contemplated it for a minute, before tightening her bag on her shoulder and scurrying out the door.

Whatever-

-you trusted androids more than humans anyway.

"Alright. What's broken?" you asked them, brightening your tone with the hopes it would relax them. Both men looked uneasy, quite out of their element.

The darker of the two nudged the PL600 forward - the one named Simon.

Simon looked uneasy, like he had just been pushed into traffic. You gave him a small, patient smile. Simon lifted a hand and dragged his knuckles across his jaw nervously. "I - ughh - my right audio input is damaged," he stuttered, turning his head to show you his left ear. It seemed like he had either been hit or had something thrown at him. The outer shell of his ear was damaged, exposing some of the circuit board underneath.

"Can't hear out of it, huh?" you offered.

Simon turned his head back to face you. "No," he answered quietly. "-and it's - ugh - buzzing."

"I have plenty of boards that should be compatible. At least we can fix your hearing tonight. The ear will take some time. If you come back tomorrow, I'd be happy to repair it?" you suggested, looking up at Simon. His hair was pushed back and a little messier than his models typically had, and he had incredibly blue eyes.

Simon almost looked like he wasn't allowed to say yes. It didn't surprise you. He likely hadn't had a pleasant conversation with a human in a long time.

The other man, whom you assumed was also an android, stepped around Simon. "Thank you," he said sincerely. You looked up at him more properly this time. He had a kind smile, but tightness around his cheeks, suggesting he had some hasty repairs done in the past.

His eyes-

-one was mossy green and the other was pale blue.

You swallowed roughly, starting to recognize this stranger. It was Markus, the leader of the deviants, the face of the resolution. You didn't want to make it obvious that you recognized him, and did your best to maintain a stoic expression.

As much as you wanted to say something - you weren't quite what that would be - you also didn't want to put him on the spot. He likely had to deal with this sort of unwanted attention all the time.

"Just a second - gonna go grab that audio component," you explained, stepping away from them to head for the storage room.

Before rummaging around for the piece, you sent Connor a quick message. "will be a little late - guy came in with a fucked up ear," you had said, pressing send and tucking your phone back into your pocket to pull out the right piece for Simon's model.

As you approached them, component in hand, you called out, "Simon, can you sit down here, please?" You stepped around a chair, patting the armrest. The android shuffled over nervously. He took a seat, alert, facing you. He was sitting upright, hands in his lap.

"If it's alright, can you lay down? It'll make it easier," you requested.

Simon blinked slowly, looking uneasy. Markus' hand fell onto his shoulder for a moment.

"It's gonna be fine," he promised gently.

Simon shot Markus a look of understanding before shifting around, leaning back in the chair, presenting his damaged ear to you.

"Can you open your panel?" you requested softly.

Simon nodded, a little more fiercely than was necessary, likely to show you that he heard your request. The panel around his ear unhinged, allowing you to prop it open. You poked the edge with one of your tools to carefully push it aside, exposing the component underneath.

It was cracked right down the center.

"I'm gonna remove the broken one now," you explained, leaning in with a tool in either hand. Simon was still as you worked, his eyes focused on Markus, who was watching you. He didn't look untrusting or uneasy, and that gave you some relief.

"This new one will need a firmware update," you said gently as you slotted the replacement in and lined up the connectors. Simon flinched a little at the sensation. You folded the artificial tissue back over and leaned back, giving the android space to sit up.

He was quiet for a moment, LED flickering yellow as he downloaded the firmware update. Luckily, someone had taken ownership of Cyberlife's firmware servers in order to keep them running.

Simon sat up when it was complete, turning his head to look at you. "Diagnostics are reading normal," he stated.

"Is the audio input working normally?" you asked. Simon made a thoughtful expression. "Can you hear me alright?" you added on, mainly to help him judge the input feedback.

"Yes," the android replied softly. "Thank you," he added on, looking at you with a smile.

He looked so sincere, as if he hadn't expected such kindness. It melted you.

"Simon, actually, I can do the shell tonight, if you don't mind?" you offered.

"I've already kept you," Simon blurted.

"No, I can't let you leave like that," you explained. "Please?"

"I-" Simon stammered. "I should be saying 'please'."

"You..." you began, trailing off as you wondered if the words that threatened to leave your lips were inappropriate. "You got hurt at one of the protests, didn't you?" you asked gently.

Simon looked uneasy. Markus, however, was fierce. "Yes," he replied for the PL600.

You nodded in understanding. "I want to help," you whispered.

It was the first thing that came to mind. You wanted to help. You wanted to make it better, in whatever way you could. You could repair androids. You could diagnose their damages. That was all you could do.

"Okay," Simon suddenly said, sounding much more comfortable than he did a few minutes ago.

You smiled and rotated around to the end table nearest you. The tools you needed, extra membranous materials and plastic shell casing molds, were there. You pulled everything out and set them on the table nearby.

"Your model doesn't follow a protocol for the skeleton-base," you explained, information Simon likely already knew about himself. He was an older model, meant to be discontinued. That knowledge only made the situation harder. "So, I'll have to take my time. Ready?"

The android nodded and turned his head to give you room to work. In the corner of your eye, as you leaned over Simon, you could see Markus in the corner of your eye, an expression that looked like 'thank you' on his face.

"May I ask your name?" Simon uttered at some point.

You gave it softly, seeing as you were right next to his ear, poking and prodding at the artificial flesh there.

"Why did you suggest a manual repair and not a full shell replacement?" Markus asked, sounding more curious than judgmental.

"It's really hard to get shells, especially for smaller parts. We're lucky we have any pieces," you explained. "-and I guess I've done this enough that it doesn't bother me..."

'-like some of the other nurses' you almost said. You decided to hold your tongue.

"You've been doing this for a while?" Markus asked, almost hesitant.

"I suppose so," you answered quietly. You had gone to school for biomechanical engineering fresh out of high school and went straight to work repairing damages androids. It was potentially the most depressing time of your life; but, you had a childhood that conquered that.

The androids were quiet after that, letting you work in silence, if not for the overhead fan making annoying buzzing sounds.

"There we go," you groaned, sitting up and briefly stretching your bag. You set your tools down and fetched a hand mirror, offering it to Simon.

Markus walked around to take a look.

"I feel silly," Simon chuckled, looking at his reflection. You joined in his laughter, recognizing he meant the mirror and the vanity it was implying.

"Looks good as new," Markus commented with a smile.

Simon offered the mirror back to you. "I don't know if 'thank you' is good enough," he uttered, looking bashful. He didn't seem like the same man that walked in those doors an hour ago.

"It is, Simon," you offered with a smile. "I choose to do this."

Markus' multi-colored eyes landed on you. "There are many damaged androids afraid to come here. If I can get them to put their faith in you, would you be willing to go to them?"

You gawked up at Markus, who looked down at you with confidence.

"I don't know if I could get approval for that - the parts, I mean. I would try, if you believe they would want it? -from a human, anyway..."

Markus' head tilted slightly and his eyes darkened with concern. "I want us to work together with humans - I want them to see that it's possible - that there can be peace."

You smiled at Markus; but, the first android that came to mind was Connor. You felt your cheeks warm at the thought of what you had almost said to him earlier.

"You recognize me, don't you?" Markus asked suddenly, catching you off guard.

"I do, Markus," you replied carefully.

"-you still offered to help?" Simon uttered. Your eyes shifted to him for a moment. He seemed uneasy, likely expecting more hostility towards the leader of the deviants, regardless of your profession.

"I don't-" you began, breaking off when you realized you didn't know where you were going with that thought.

"I've seen androids torn to pieces," you started, looking back to Markus. "I've had them delivered to me crying that they don't want to die... I came back here because of this - because of the revolution. I wanted to do something I could be proud of for a change..."

It felt strange-

-admitting this to Markus.

He had a way with people, making them want to open up to him.

"I understand the risk you're taking," Markus stated. "I won't ask you to come if I don't feel it's safe... I hope I'll see you again."

You nodded and watched the boys leave, hoping that Markus would return.

...

...

...

When you finally staggered into Connor's apartment that night, the android was seated at the island, folders, papers, photographs and documents, scattered along the surface in front of him.

He turned his head a little to acknowledge you when you walked in before immediately craning his neck back down, eyes falling back to the document in front of him.

"Hey," you hummed, walking over to him. You leaned over his shoulder and pressed a kiss against his LED.

"Hey," he replied back, leaning into the kiss. You couldn't help but laugh at how silly the word sounded coming out of his mouth. It didn't quite the suit the prim and proper detective.

"Thank you for agreeing to stay here," Connor said, sincere.

"Why would I say no to an opportunity to spend more time with you?" you huffed. "Besides, your place is nicer than mine and closer to work."

"I'm glad to know you're benefiting."

You hummed, a little irritated by his response. "You think I'm inconvenienced?"

"In a way, yes," he replied, in a tone that seemed distant.

"I'm not inconvenienced - geez, what's gotten into you?" you snapped a little.

Connor looked up at you, discomfort dashing behind his eyes. "I-..." he trailed off, looking back down at his papers.  He dragged a hand through his hair. His fingers lingered briefly at the back of his neck before lowering back down to the counter.

"I'm sorry. I'm not handling this as well as I thought."

"The protests?" you offered softly.

The android didn't nod, nor answer. His eyes shifted away uneasily for a moment before moving back to you. It wasn't exactly a yes, but that seemed to be part of his trouble, at least.

"They're challenging your livelihood," you proclaimed. "You have every right to be upset."

"I made a choice against my creators; but..." Connor trailed off, his confidence waning for a moment. "This time, I have to be on both sides."

Connor felt as torn as he did back then. He wanted freedom for himself, for his people. He was fortunate to have a place to call his home, a job where he could find purpose. He wanted his people to have those things, too.

But, he feared the consequences of an uprising, of the human lives that would be lost. He still cared about humans. Maybe that was because of Hank - because of you. Maybe some part of his programming never quite left him.

You didn't know what to do - what to say. You wanted to embrace him and pull him away from that mess, just for a little bit; however, Connor turned away from you and buried his nose back into the pile of paperwork.

He wanted to confide in you; but, at the same time, he didn't. You had your own challenges, your own problems. He didn't want to add to that list. He didn't want to be one of the things that brought stress into your life.

"I'll-... be back in a second," you quietly, feeling small as you stepped away.

Connor's bedroom was as welcoming as you remembered and impeccably clean. You set your bags against the wall next to the archway that led into his bathroom. You brushed your teeth and changed into some comfy clothes, brushed your hair back, washed your face.

You returned to the kitchen and approached Connor. He looked up at you, hearing the quiet tapping of your bare feet on the floor. When his eyes lands landed on you, he looked conflicted.

"You know I believe in you... right?" you whispered, leaning against the counter nearest him.

He rotated around so that his lap was no longer tucked beneath the island's overlap. You decided to take that as an invitation and approached, standing a little closer, right in front of his knees.

"I like to imagine that. But, it feels better hearing you say it," he said quietly, like he was confessing to something outlandish.

"We'll get through this," you added on.

He looked away suddenly, lips tightening. You reached for him and cupped his cheek, pinkie and ring finger over the edge of his sharp jawline. Connor's eyes, warm, brown, shining in the bright kitchen lights, flickered back up to your face.

"I want to do this with you, Connor," you proclaimed proudly. "They're wrong about androids. Their views may never change, but that doesn't mean we can't strive for the future."

"This... isn't your fight," he said quietly, doubt flickering in his gaze. His brow lowered slightly. Your hand slid off his cheek and you frowned.

"It's my fight if I want it to be... and I do," you replied firmly, voice rising slightly.

"I don't want-" Connor stammered, frustration mingled with fear in his eyes.

"It's not just about you," you interrupted him sharply. "I care about androids - I did before I met you. I want to help. I-..." You trailed off, realizing you were mad at him for being worried about your safety. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, but-"

"No, you're right," he said hoarsely. "I shouldn't try to control you."

"That's not what this is!" you almost shouted, arms trembling at your sides. "I worry about you, too... -about what could happen. You're on the frontlines for fucks sake. But, you're a fighter and I don't want to change that. I love that about you..."

Connor was afraid that if his hands touched you, he wouldn't be able to let go. So, he kept them to himself, and soaked in your expression. He knew you cared about androids. He had witnessed it on more than one occasion. He didn't want to make light of your sacrifice.

But, still...

He felt so-

-selfish.

"You... amazed me, when I saw you risk your safety for androids - for people you didn't know, people who aren't... human," he confessed quietly. "You put yourself in danger," he said lowly, breaking off to roughly drag a hand across his face, pulling at his skin gently in frustration.

"-drives me crazy..."

He said it low, quiet, as if he wasn't sure he wanted you to hear it. He sounded both enamored and annoyed at the same time.

"You drive me crazy," you retorted softly with a smile.

You wanted him to reach out to you, to give you a kiss goodnight, or at least take your hand for a second. But, Connor didn't look like he wanted to be touched.

"I'm... gonna let you get back to work... Goodnight, Connor."

Connor nodded, uttering, "goodnight," and watched you leave. He returned to his case files and tried really hard to focus on the task at hand. His hand fumbled on the surface of the counter, fingers flexing, tightening, flexing again. He chewed his bottom lip for a second. Maybe asking you to stay here was a bad idea, if it meant he couldn't think straight.

He looked through the photos of suspects believed to be involved in the protest this morning, the one that resulted in some assaults on androids. He wanted to analyze their faces so he could remember them when searching security footage.

It wasn't easy for an android to forget a face.

It shouldn't have been easy for an android to get distracted; however, he was really struggling in that moment.

"...damn it," he growled at himself, tearing away from the counter and rising to his feet. He walked into the bedroom, trying to make careful footsteps while simultaneously not giving a fuck. He walked over to the side of the bed that you had taken a liking to.

He knew you weren't asleep. Your breathing pattern was too rough. But, he didn't care. Connor leaned over and pressed a kiss against your forehead and pretended he didn't notice the way your lips twitched against the pillow.

Just like that, he felt better, and returned to his mountain of paperwork with ease.

[swtki]

Hi so recently i’ve seen some 18+ fics with connonly minor aged characters. I want it to be known that while I age up 100% of my characters because I myself am 17, I do not pick characters who do not have screen time as an adult. HP is an example of this. All characters are aged to seventh year.

Now, regarding Like That,

I was 14 years old when I wrote that fic. I find it rather embarassing and gross looking back on that. In the fic, I stated characters were under seventh year. I feel genuinley disgusted that I didn’t age them up to seventh year. All I have to say for my thought process back then is that I thought by making the characters older than I, it would be okay. I am sorry for anyone I’ve disapointed.

I look at my fic characters through the eyes of the age I am. Age apropriate shippings and fics are very important to me!!! I do my best to avoid any moral issues, conflict, any of the sort on Tumblr. But I genuinley feel so disgusted when child characters, that stay children for the entire series, are “aged up”. If we never see the character as an adult for a time where we can see their personality, I don’t want to see dating/18+ of it. There is a MAJOR difference between having an adult whos behavior is child like vs having an aged up child charactor who you describe as having a “childlike” personality. IF YOUR CHARACTERS PERSONALITY IS ONLY SEEN WHEN THEY ARE A CHILD, THEN THAT IS NOT THEIR PERSONALITY. If your character is cannonly presented as an adult, use their personality.

also some things about aging up,

Aging up a 17 year old character to 18+? great I don’t mind since its only a year (possibly a few months)

Aging up a 15 year old character to 18+? depends on the character, aswell as age of writer

Aging up an under 12 year old? No, that shits fucking gross. If they are mentally a child, fuck off. If you are 14+ dreaming,writing, whatever with a CHARACTER LESS THAN 3 YEARS younger THAN YOU its weird, heres some examples:

- Eliza is 15, she really adores twilight and reads Jacob Black fanfiction quite often, in most of these Jacob is at least 16. This is not weird because Eliza is very close developmentally to Jacobs character, she sympathizes in the way Smyer intended people to.

-Tyler is 19, they really love a character who is 17 in their universe. They like to write fanfiction that is aged up to 18. This is not morally wrong because Tyler is not that much older than the character and feels like the character is just as mature as they are.

-John is 24, he loves Katara from Last Airbender. She is cannonly 14-15. He ages her up, but does not change her personality from that of what is age apropriate for Katara in the first place. She is only 18 in number. John loves the way she acts like a young teenager, he calls that her “personality”. He writes about graphic adult scenarios when using an “aged up version of Katara”. This is gross because he is a grown adult, far far far from his own teen days where it still would have been gross to “age her up”. The things he finds attractive about her character are the traits a young teen girl posseses. John is someone I would not leave my child around.

Sorry, just felt I should express my feelings since I’m seeing much more of this.

-Eli

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 9

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,300

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Eva sat in the conference room, trying hard not to fidget.  Javier and Steve were to her left, and there was a projector sitting behind the table.  None of them knew why they were sitting there. None of them knew when the meeting would start. All that they were told was that they were supposed to be sitting in that room by nine am that day. No exceptions.

The air kicked on, filling the room with a dull drone. Eva grabbed her pen and held it in her palm, using her thumb to slide the cap up and down along the length of it. She wanted to get up and take a lap around the room to excise some of the nervous energy she felt.

Javier lit a cigarette, sinking down lower into his chair, looking annoyed, “How long’ve we been sitting here?”

Steve looked at his watch, “About twenty minutes.”

“Fuck me,” Javier groaned, rubbing his eye, “I got about a thousand pages of paperwork that need to get done and we’re sitting here with our thumbs up our asses.”

She had to agree. She’d gotten a little behind with reading through case files. Although she was used to redacted information, she wasn’t used to whole sections of them being completely missing.  As she moved through the most recent information, that was occurring more and more often. She thought she’d gotten the mole over two months ago, but now… there had to be more than one.

The door opened and Vanessa walked in. Eva inhaled deeply, her grip on the pen tightening until she heard the plastic crack. Jaw clenched, she sat up and prepared herself for the inevitable. Unable to help it, she glanced at the two agents she’d worked with so closely, already mourning the friendship they’d started to develop. She wondered if Connie would be calling to cancel their work out tonight.

Blinking, she turned her attention to the woman who signed her paychecks.

“Hello, thank you for waiting. I’m Vanessa Arnold.”

A tall, stately woman, dressed in a crisp suit, Vanessa looked at them with a critical gaze. She addressed each of them in turn, welcoming them to the meeting.  Eva’s eyes narrowed as Vanessa sorted the stack of files in front of her. She knew those files—well worn over the years, and slowly growing.

“I am here,” she announced, her expression business placid, “Because I’ve heard some disturbing information and I would like to give you the opportunity to address it.”

Next to her, Javier stubbed out his cigarette, “What kind of information?”

Vanessa smiled, it was not a nice smile, “It has been reported to the States that you are engaging in some inappropriate behavior.”

Javier and Steve looked at each other, a whole conversation passing between them that Eva wasn’t sure she could decipher.  Steve, who was sitting next to her, put his elbows on the table, resting his head on his hands.  Javier stayed where he was, but she could feel the heat of the glare he leveled at Vanessa.

“Now, we deal with some very serious things, and sometimes that wears us down.”  Standing, Vanessa circled the conference table, hand skimming over the chairs. “Sometimes, that leads us to forget our boundaries and the expectations of the DEA for its agents.”

Eva’s gaze followed Vanessa as she sauntered towards them, pace excruciatingly slow.  She knew where this was going, had attended this meeting at least once in every location she’d been sent to, usually at about the six month mark. And yet, it still hurt. Vanessa knew how to make it hurt.

Javier cleared his throat, “With all due respect, Ms. Arnold, can you get to the point?”

There was that ugly smile again, “Absolutely. I’ve received reports that you and Agent Murphy are participating in social events with Mrs. Moore. Going out to bars, eating lunch together—Agent Murphy, your wife has been attending classes at the gym with Mrs. Moore, has she not?”

Steve’s mouth thinned, “She has. There aren’t many Americans in this country, least of all anyone who might be able to commiserate about life in close quarters with the DEA.”

Vanessa cast him a condescending look, “Still, it doesn’t exactly put you in a positive light, does it?”

Eva could feel the wheels of Steve’s mind turning as he processed what she’d said.  He flicked his fingers out in a sharp motion before curling them into his palms, “I don’t understand. Eva is a contract consultant, paid by the DEA to work with us. How is associating with her outside of work a negative?”

Here we go.

Vanessa stepped back and flicked off the lights, then moved to the projector and turned it on, “Mrs. Moore is generally reticent to talk about it, but I feel its important for you to know who you are working with.”

The projector clicked and Eva’s mug shot flashed onto the wall opposite the group. She closed her eyes, working to control her breathing.  She’d been released into police custody right out of the hospital. Her arm was still in a cast, her face heavily swollen and bruised. The picture was not flattering.

“Mrs. Moore was charged and convicted of the murder of her husband a few years prior to coming to work for us.”

Another click. Her husband’s picture, his professional photo, came up. Josh was impeccably groomed, smile wide and white, eyes clear and sparkling. She bit the inside of her cheek, stunned that she could still feel such hatred towards a person no longer living.

“This is Joshua Moore. A prominent doctor and businessman out of Louisiana. His practice was located just outside of New Orleans.  He was most well known for donating large amounts to charities across the state.”

For the tax write off. And, to get the votes of the city councils.

Click. Their wedding picture. Eva felt bile rise in her throat. Fourteen years old, looking like a baby next to a twenty five year old who’d just started working for the local hospital. Her mother had picked out her dress—a frilly, lace encrusted thing that was a touch too long.  She remembered how much her feet hurt from walking in the heels she needed to wear to keep the thing from dragging too much down the aisle.  Standing at the altar had been excruciating enough that she’d stumbled over her vows.

“By all accounts, Mrs. Moore and her husband had a passionate relationship.”

Passionate is one way to put it.

In the beginning, she’d fought him when she thought he was being unfair. He’d scream, punch doors, throw things, eventually things devolved into physical beatings.  It only took about a year for her to stop fighting and just do what he wanted. It was easier that way. Soon enough, he figured out how good she was at hiding things—money, product, herself—and he let her in on the family business.

Click. Their blood covered carpet with his outline marked in tape.

“One night, things got out of hand. Mr. Moore unfortunately lost his life at the hands of his wife.”

God, could she be a little less dramatic? Her voice had lowered down to a soft, sweet sound that grated on every nerve Eva had.  She felt her mouth lift in a sneer before she could check the motion. Sniffing, she relaxed the muscles of her face, looking forward at the picture dispassionately.

Click. The trail of blood leading from the living room out the back door.

“When police arrived on the scene, Mr. Moore was found in the back yard, on fire.  Autopsy reports state that he was set aflame post mortem. His cause of death was confirmed as blunt force trauma to the skull.”

Click. Her husband’s dead body, skin black and burned down to bone, laying atop a cart. Click. A close up of his face, half the skull missing. In bottom right corner, there was a little ‘R’ marked in what looked to be black permanent marker. This was the only new aspect of the photos.  Every location. Every six months. Every photo. She’d seen them over and over and had them memorized. It didn’t seem possible that this little song and dance could still make her angry, but it did.  She was tired of paying for a justifiable action she’d taken to save her own life.

Vanessa left the last photo up, moving to stand before them, one hand slipping into the pocket of her slacks.  Eva kept her gaze steady, ready to take what would come next, the words that she’d heard for many years.

“Gentleman, you’re sitting next to a cold blooded murder, a person who took a life that was privileged and beat it to death with a fire extinguisher. Think about what kind of person could do that to someone they loved. This about who she would have to be to drag a dead body out of her house and set it on fire. Think about how associating with that kind of person reflects on you and your careers.”

The silence that followed was familiar and tense. Both men looking at Vanessa—Javier gently tapping his forefinger on the table, Steve with his head on his hands.

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed, but she kept smiling, “I’m going to let you keep thinking on that. Thank you for coming in. Have a nice day.”

And then she as striding out, her heels clicking on the tile. Eva watched her go, the door closing gently behind her. Eva just caught the face of that department head she’d nearly forgotten about as he approached Vanessa in the hall. She let the sneer form on her mouth, knowing that the rumor mill would start almost immediately.

The air in the room felt oppressive, the darkness only adding more pressure.  Eva pushed a breath through her nose, scratching at the skin above her eyebrow as she tried to think of something to say.

Javier spoke for her, “What a load of bullshit.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. It was, indeed, a load of bullshit. She’d never had someone put it so succinctly so quickly following the presentation.

Steve leaned back in his seat, smashing the power button on the projector. It turned off with the groaning hiss of an air fan, leaving the room completely dark. Eva took the opportunity to swallow back the old feelings that had been drudged up in the last ten minutes.  Ten minutes. That’s all it took for her to feel like shit again. She fucking hated Vanessa.

Javier stood up and flicked on the lights, returning to his seat and sitting heavily. He pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, offering the pack to Steve, who took it. Eva folded her hands over her chest and waited for someone to speak.

Steve tapped off ash into a faceted glass tray, “So that’s why you told us about it early on.”

“That’s why I told you about it early on,” Eva confirmed with a nod.

Javier blew out a lungful of smoke, “She do this often?”

“Yeah.”

“How often?”

“Every time, with every team.”

He nodded, leaning his forearms on the table, “You notice she left your files.”

“Yep,” Eva bit out.

It was a perfect strategy. If she hadn’t been up front about her husband, it would be impossible for anyone to ignore the fact that the whole story, in black and white, was sitting right there.

Steve reached out and placed his hand next to her on the tabletop, “You want us to read through it.”

She shrugged, “You can, if you want. Its a nicely worded story. Not too flattering to me, of course.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds, another private conversation passing between them. She kept her expression neutral, not wanting to sway them one way or another.

Steve threw the butt of his cigarette into the tray, “Connie and I are having a pool party next weekend.  You want to come? Carrillo, too.”

Eva felt her jaw drop, didn’t bother to conceal her shock, “You want me to come to a party.”

“Yeah,” he said, his mouth curling into a smile, “Maybe you can convince Javi, here, to put on a swim suit.”

“I wear swim trunks,” Javier cut in with mock anger.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Only because Connie won’t let you come if you’re not wearing appropriate attire.” Then, to Eva, “You got a suit?”

She nodded, “I do.”

“Good, bring a bottle of booze, and you’re set.”

Eva sat there, staring at him, her mouth open. It was one thing for her to tell them what she’d done. It was another thing to come face to face with pictures of her husband’s mutilated body and react with, what? Nonchalance?

Steve leaned towards her, “Connie wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t gotten her out of that restaurant.  I don’t give a shit what you did to that guy.  What you did, here? That’s what counts.”

She looked between them. Javier wasn’t talking, but he nodded as Steve spoke, offering silent support. Eva felt her chest constrict with a soft affection for them both. The relief was a physical thing, exhaling with her next breath.

“Thank you.”

Steve shrugged, “Don’t mention it. Vodka—bring a bottle. Wear your suit.”

As it turned out, Connie did not cancel their work out that night. She met Eva outside the gym at their regular time, looking at her like a friend. Eva had to cough into her hand to hide the surprised little shriek that wanted to burst out of her when the woman came into view.

They spent the hour sweating and huffing through a one challenging set after another, the sound of the instructor’s voice coaching them through the movements. Afterwards, Eva slumped on the bench, tossing back water and toweling off her face.

“That was fun,” Connie commented from her spot next to her.

Eva sent her a sidelong glance, “Fun is not the word I would use.”

Fun was sitting at a bar, drinking and hollering at the band. Fun was watching a ball game or shopping for new clothes. What they had just done was hard work—muscle burning, lung searing, skin sizzling hard work. Still, Eva enjoyed it, needed the release of endorphins.

“You know, one of the things I look forward to when I get back to the states is flaunting my newly hot body when I see those skinny bitches at my high school reunion.”

Eva laughed, “You’ll be the talk of the party—look at those biceps.”

Connie flexed, smiling wide, “Gotta get me one of those strapless, backless dresses, just to show off.”

“Oh, Steve’ll love that.”

“He would,” Connie said with a coy little tilt of her shoulders. “He tell you about the party?”

Eva nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been tasked with bringing a bottle of vodka.”

“And wearing a suit,” Connie asserted, pointing at Eva.

“I have one, don’t worry.”

“I want everyone dressed for the occasion, no office wear allowed.”

“Ah, damn, I’ll have to leave my pencil skirt at home.”

Connie rolled her eyes, “I’m so glad I get to wear scrubs. My feet still hurt at the end of the day, but at least its not from wearing heels.”

Eva took another long swig, “Yeah, but you do have to be one your feet all day. At least I get to sit down.”

“Pros and cons.”

Eva nodded, “Agreed. Pros and cons.”

“So, are you ever going to tell me what’s going on with you and Carrillo? Steve says you’ve been seeing him.”

Eva set down the water bottle. She’d been wondering, herself, when Connie was going to bring it up. Despite their weekly gym excursions, she hadn’t pushed. Eva was grateful—she didn’t really know how she’d characterize her relationship with the man. They weren’t...like, boyfriend and girlfriend. At least, not how she’d known the concept back before she’d been married. Companions, maybe. Friends, definitely. Friends who slept together. Friends with benefits? That felt too trivializing.

“We’ve gone out a few times,” Eva edged, standing and motioning for Connie to follow.

They walked towards the bathrooms, the humidity spiking from the showers as they passed through the doors.

“And?”

Eva opened her locker and pulled out her gym back, rustling around for her change of clothes, “And...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Sighing, Eva stood up and looked at Connie, “I don’t. Not really. I’m only on assignment here for another six months or so. I like him. I like spending time with him. I don’t know where I am from there.”

Connie fixed her with a level look, “You don’t want to get into anything serious because you think you’re leaving in six months.”

Eva thought about it,“Yes.”

“But, you like him enough that you’re willing to go out with him even though it might end sooner rather than later.”

Eva thought again, “Yes.”

She gave a little bob of her head, “That’s fair. Steve says he’s pretty intense.”

Eva didn’t have to think about that one, “Yes.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

Eva’s face scrunched, “You want me to say more?”

“Yes, for God’s sake!” Connie burst out, her hands flying in the air, “I want details.”

Eva laughed, “Let me get cleaned up and then we can talk details.”

Connie’s eyes narrowed, “Don’t think I’m going to forget. We’re going to the bar and you’re going to tell me everything.”

They did, indeed, go to the bar, although Eva didn’t really tell Connie everything.  She talked about their dates, how he’d been polite and conscientious, how she felt when they kissed, and that she hadn’t yet spent the night at his place but she wanted to.

“You know, when I met him, I thought he was terrifying,” Connie commented as she sipped a gin and tonic.

Eva lifted a brow, “Why?”

Thinking for a moment, Connie settled on, “He was just so serious. Like, really, really serious.”

Eva could get that. The man could write a book on taking things seriously. Serious was in his blood. But, she’d seen him soft and sweet, too. She’d seen his dimples as he smiled. Seen his laugh. There was more to him than he showed to the world, more than a hard, scary man. It made her warm inside to think that she got to see that side of him.

“Shame that you don’t think it’ll last,” Connie said, a leading tone in her voice.

Eva brought her beer to her lips, “I have to go home sometime.”

“Where is home, exactly?”

The question caught Eva off guard. She realized that she didn’t exactly know. For a long time, Louisiana was home, and then Texas, and then a host of assignments. Now, it was Colombia. She’d been traveling for so long that she couldn’t root herself down anywhere. She didn’t even know if she wanted to. Her contract end date had been so far away for so long that Eva had never taken the time to work out what she would do afterward. Her record would be cleared, she would no longer be a felon. She would have years of work experience and a tidy little savings.

The possibilities were so numerous that Eva found herself unable to really settle on any one thing that she wanted—except, that wasn’t exactly true. Her heart, down deep, wanted what she might actually be able to have. A too serious, dimple-cheeked man who smelled like tobacco and vetiver.

Connie was looking at her, waiting for her answer. Eva just shrugged and ordered another round of drinks.