#So now you all have to deal with the consequences

[qqueenofhades]

been seeing some responses to the many many lawsuits and other actions taken against trumpet and munkfruit that fall along the lines of "this isn't enough, it's already too late, you can't fight fascism with the law, we're all gonna die." i understand the fear, truly, but i'm curious as to your thoughts on it, as to me it seems like this sort of behavior/posting doesn't do much beyond embolden the narrative that everyone actually likes these bastards and they're too powerful to be stopped.

Welp. This is the kind of question that requires me to write a long and complex sociopolitical/critical/historical/Discourse-esque analysis that will take a while and which I am trying to do only selectively, but I'm at home on Saturday morning, I don't have anything else to do right now, and it does present me an opportunity to address some things I've been thinking about. So. We'll give it a shot.

The first thing that has struck me is that in a few short weeks, we're getting a sharp empirical disproving of two common online-leftist fallacies: one, the old "both parties are exactly the same" chestnut, and two, "the only resistance that matters is Violent Glorious Revolution" (which somehow and conveniently never happens). We had months and months of "Biden is just as bad as Trump!!!" being spread as gospel truth in online-leftist circles, and then when Harris took over, it switched just as seamlessly into "Harris is just as bad as [or even worse than] Trump!" Now, as I have said before, there were plenty of legitimate criticisms to make of Biden, particularly the Gaza policy (upon which Harris notably differed). But it's quite telling that the keyboard warriors who spent all of last year howling for The Righteous Punishment of Biden-Harris (regardless that the obvious ancillary consequence was letting Trump come to power) have either disappeared completely when it comes to dealing with the results of that rhetoric, or have switched to "everything is doomed so I guess we shouldn't bother anyway." Like. Trump is now proposing to fully ethnically cleanse Gaza and either blithely hand it over to Israel or build Jared Kushner Beachfront Resort Disneyworld, and what do we hear in protest? For the most part, crickets. These are not serious people. Their opposition is not morally consistent, and it only depends on how they can make themselves look good. I thought that Trump was somehow supposed to be magically better than Biden particularly on the Gaza issue, and that was why it was worth letting him get elected? Or something? Something!?!

I'm curious as to whether those people still legitimately think that Harris would have spent her first few weeks in office dismantling USAID, signing weekly anti-trans executive orders, unleashing ICE across the country and terrorizing immigrant communities, putting the Project 2025 guy in charge of the Office of Management and Budget, letting Elon Musk run rampant with Treasury data, nominating the likes of RFK Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard to Cabinet posts, trying to freeze all federal funding, stripping DEI initiatives, dismantle the Department of Education -- etc. etc. The thing is, as ghoulish as it is, none of this is a surprise, because it is literally what Trump and his people spent the entire presidential campaign loudly, openly, and repeatedly promising to do. However awful they were and are, they were not remotely secret about their intentions. That information was out in the open every time they opened their mouths. But too many people didn't pay attention, rationalized it away, decided that "he won't actually do that" (despite the fact that he launched a literal violent coup attempt on the Capitol the last time he was in office), or just made up their minds that Trump Will Reduce Grocery Prices and refused to listen to any information that countered that view. What do we get now? Trump laughing off the grocery-prices issue and insisting that it's "not a priority" and Musk managing to claim that the real problem is government spending, not corporate greed. Again, this was completely predictable, because y'all got willingly suckered. It was not hard to see it coming.

That said: if the Glorious Online Leftist Revolution is still coming, and by some lights we might now legitimately need it, where the fuck is it? Are they still out there banging the drum against Trump and his "let's ethnically cleanse Gaza" policy and anything else that they insisted, they swore up and down, was functionally equivalent or possibly even marginally better than Biden-Harris getting another term? No. They're either dead silent, offering weak excuses, or completely giving into "we're doomed there's no point fighting back through weak shitlib institutions that are obviously terrible and will fail" blubbering that makes no fucking sense. One, because they move the goalposts so constantly that there's not even any attempt to reckon with the last effects of their damaging bullshit, and two? As I said, where's the fucking Revolution magically coming to save us and install a perfect leftist utopia (which is never how revolutions have ever worked) and sweep away Government Tyranny? Is that only for when a Democrat is in office and you can have confidence that the government is not going to come after you in the middle of the night for talking about it? Now that there's an actual fascist in power, it's somehow too hard to resist at all, even in small, institutional, and everyday ways that are often far more effective at practically confounding the bad stuff instead of empty and useless online echo chambers, so guess we should all just give up??!

Fuck. That.

This is also why we have to talk about the catastrophic lack of information literacy and critical thinking skills in young leftist spaces. A good example is the recent migration of TikTok users to the Chinese app RedNote. It was sweet for a little while as there was cultural exchange and friendship and memes. But then, predictably, it dove hard into "ah, once again The Evil US Government Has Lied To Us and there are no problems at all in China!" I have seen posts float by on my dash that unironically claim this is the case and China is truly great and Americans should want to move there and clearly all that business about authoritarian control and mass repression was just a ruse by, again, The Evil US Government. If you are so utterly devoid of basic information literacy and research abilities that your standard of proof for "is the Chinese government repressively authoritarian and totalitarian" is "a random Chinese person on an app in a country where the Internet is viciously controlled and voicing the slightest criticism can make you disappear told me that it isn't," then for Christ's fucking sake, you need help. For one, it wasn't just the US government saying this. It was, y'know, Chinese dissidents, the entire nation of Taiwan, historians, academics, researchers, the Uyghur Muslims of Xinjiang, etc etc. If your only standard for believing or supporting anything is "the opposite of what the US government thinks," then you are perfect targets for authoritarianism. Hey, a person living under an authoritarian regime who will punish them if they speak out against it told me everything was fine! Clearly there's nothing to worry about and we should want it here in America!

Come on. Come on.

This is also the case because uneducated young leftists like to unironically label themselves "communists" or "Marxist-Leninists" as if it's cool and hip and has never been involved in anything problematic in all of history, so anything that calls itself that must be supported. Shoutout to the idiot in my notes recently who reblogged a several-year-old post just to shout at me about how historical communists NEVER worked with or collaborated with fascists, because something something The Communists Were The Pure Shining Good Guys! (Uh, nobody tell them about the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.) Clearly, the Chinese Communist Party is good and beneficial, end of story, no more criticism or caution needed! Obviously, yes, official American policy toward China has often been driven by basic Sinophobia, and the determination that nobody can change American hegemony or unipolarity or its ability to call the shots how it pleases. But if that is the literally only criteria you're using, then yeah. If you're so unaware that "the Chinese people are ordinary human beings" and "the Chinese government is repressive and authoritarian" are statements that can and in fact do coexist, then apparently you've missed the situation you're in right now, where "the American people are ordinary human beings" and "the American government is repressive and authoritarian" is also the case. Because online leftism is essentially devoid of a consistent moral principle and will just blithely switch up to support Bad Things as long as they're being done by governments with the correct ideological label, here we are.

Anyway. This is getting long, but the main takeaway is that the "all resistance against Trump is doomed and I guess we just gotta die :(" line is now, somehow, often coming from the same people who were constantly yelling that the only hope was a Glorious Revolution against Biden-Harris, and it is somehow even stupider. So you'll trumpet about Gloriously Overthrowing The Government all the day long as long as a Democrat is in office, but the instant a Republican gets in there instead and starts acting like an actual fascist, welp, time to just shut up and accept our doom and not even bother to struggle? Please tell me how any of that makes sense. Especially when actively confounding the Trump/Musk Axis of Evil is already working. There is also the fact that the establishment-media types are supporting this narrative for reasons of their own; witness the fact that the entire US corporate media is owned by oligarchs who hastened to bend the knee and pledge fealty to Trump 2.0. They obviously also have a reason for inculcating hopelessness in you, and that the only recourse is to shut up, accept it, and let them continue to rob you blind. Because American democracy will never matter as much as money, power, and control for the Billionaire Bros.

The point is: this is a bad-faith narrative on all sides. Whether it's coming from the online leftists in their latest head-spinningly hypocritical volte-face, the oligarch-owned corporate media that wants to feed you constant Bad News to keep you clicking and worried and distracted and unable to resist, the Trumpist power that wants people to quit making this pesky stink about all their authoritarian fascist adventures, or anyone else. There is nobody who has your best interests at heart if they are telling you that everything is doomed and the only thing to do is lie down and take it. There is no logical reason you should listen to them. Go forth and keep resisting, in whatever way presents itself. Those cumulative small actions are far more effective than any Splendid Revolution that never, ever materializes, while the people who preach it just sit back and whine about how things are so bad now so clearly they couldn't. Shut up.

It is always important. It always matters. It will make a difference.

Courage, etc.

[zepskies]

Aww thanks so much, friend!! (lol even SB can offer his own version of comfort. 😂)

That's so normal too with pregnancy! We can be our own worst enemy sometimes, but definitely rock those beautiful curves, hun. 😘💗 (LOVE that Joey gif!!!! loll)

Giving me full PTSD here, girl 😂

God I'm so sorry. 😭 Honestly I was using my own PSTD here, so you're not alone. 😅

And yep, that's always the worst when your partner eats so much crap and does not gain an ounce. Like, how?! Are you magic???

Right?!?! This is such a thing with men in particular I think, not just Dean lmfao.

Sobbing 😭 He so would do that! And honestly, love doesn't give a shit about looks. I mean, at some point, we all will be wrinkly and saggy, so you better hope there's more there than looks 😅🤷‍♀️

Gah, I'm so glad you agree! 😭😭 Exactly!! Of course attraction matters, but real, true love gets to the core of a person and doesn't just consider how they looked when you first met one another.

Bury me in a ditch... 🫠🫠

lmfao girl I'll hop in with you. 🤣

Lovely 😆 Oh, Beau! Sweet, sweet Beau... I can so see him and reader getting their wires crossed, and him not even registering it while she quietly suffers 🙈 I feel like that happens a lot to couples, though, when times get a little stressful and busy. Loved the realism of this!!

lolll that visual right? 😅😅 But busy Beau I thought made sense with him getting lost in a case at times, and yeah I agree -- I feel like something like this could very easily happen when couples have been together for a while. Life can just pass you by, but this was a big reminder for Beau. 💗

Poor, tired Beau, though, now dealing with a crying and upset reader 😂 (Do you think he retrospectively wished he would've just let her hop on for a quick ride? lmao)

lmao I'm sure he does!! Though consequently he's now wide awake. 💀

DEAD 💀 Also 💯 agree with this SB headcanon 😂😂 And weirdly, I thought from the start that Ben would probably mind the least of all of them if his partner put on a few extra pounds. If grannies don't scare this man, weight certainly won't either lol (His answer was perfection 😂😘)

ahahaha thank you, lovely!!! YES that was my HC too! I feel like Ben's not only "seen it all," but the granny thing would definitely expose him to some cellulite and stretch marks. I don't feel like a bit of extra weight is gonna deter him from some good pussy. 🤣🤣

But so on point for him to be jealous at first and accuse her of cheating 🙈 I also wonder how long she got away with it, considering that man's sex drive.

Ben has absolutely no chill! 😭 I can't imagine she'd get away with it for very long -- maybe a few weeks at most LOL.

Loved all of them so much, friend!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Aww thank you!! I appreciate you, friend. 🥹 This set of HCs hit close to home for me, and seeing as it did for you too, I'm very glad you enjoyed them. 💕💕

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is it the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen?"

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[yamumsyadadd]

consequences

part of the Marquita series. Talks of consent, sexual assault, Jenni’s trial.

It had been odd at home for a few weeks. Your mami and Irene were always talking in hushed voices, both with frowns on their faces. Sometimes random people in suits would be in the living room when you got home. 

Olga was busy with the baby, Mami with whatever secret she was dealing with and your mama? You weren’t exactly sure since she had gone radio silent on you. 

Alexia knew it was time to have a conversation with you. After Rio was born, she and Jenni had sat you down to have the sex talk. Answering all the questions you had, emphasising not to look up things on the internet again and letting you know that regardless of your sexuality, they loved you. 

The conversation they needed to had was around consent. None of your guardians thought you’d be having sex, or really doing anything inherently sexual, but with the trial coming up it was a conversation needed. 

You were simply going through the motions. Confused as to why your mama wasn’t talking to you, even why you Tio Rafa wasn’t replying. Your phone was now left at home or in your mamis car more often. You didn’t have social media, something both parents were extremely strict about. 

Sometimes you wanted to fight about with them, but then you remembered when Olga let you use her phone and you were scrolling through her instagram, the amount of hate messages, death threats and overall mean comments she received had shocked you. 

There were moments, at school with you friends, that you felt like you were missing out because they all had instagram and Snapchat, but you reminded yourself about the awful things said to Olga and you didn’t think you’d cope with that. 

The house was eerily quiet when you came home from school. There was no baby noises, or tv. Olga and Rio weren’t in the kitchen, office or in your Mami and Olga’s room. The lounge room was clean, untouched from the cleaner. A apart of you felt forgotten. They had gone out somewhere and forgotten you. 

In a major act of defiance, you found your phone and downloaded instagram. To you, this would get their attention, make them feel bad for forgetting you. The ramifications of it didn’t even float in your mind. 

It took at least half an hour to figure it out, following a few of your friends from school, as well as your Tia, Abuela and a few of the Barcelona Women’s team members but not your mami, mama or Olga. 

You were so wrapped up in discovering how to use the app, you didn’t hear the keys in the front door, or the sounds of both your mami and mama walking down the hallway. It was only when your mama plucked your phone from her hand, eyebrows creased, did you realise they were there. 

“Hey!-“

“Since when did you allow her to have an instagram Alexia?” You felt your body fold into itself. 

“Never. Marquita, you aren’t allowed instagram. You were told this!”

Both your mami and mama were standing in front of you, mami with her arms crossed and her usual frown, your mama with one hand on her hip, the other looking at your phone. 

“Why? Why did you break our trust and make an account. You know how people are, the cruel things-“

“I know! I know okay? I guess I felt left out. All my friends have it, you guys have it. Even Nala had an instagram!”

Your mama sat down in front of you, giving your phone to your mami, “this is a conversation that your mami and I need to have. Without you around.” 

“Why are you here?” It clicked in your brain, your mama was here, in February, she was supposed to be in Mexico, playing a game in a few days time. 

“We need to have an important, honest conversation with you.” Your mami sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. 

“Are you sending me back? I’ll delete the instagram! I’ll do whatever you want but please-“

“Stop, Amor we aren’t sending you back.” Your Mami looked towards your mama, giving her a slight nod. 

“Do you remember how Spain won the World Cup in Australia?” You nodded your head, of course you remembered, “there was a moment on stage that something happened. The head of the RFEF did something to me, something I didn’t like and didn’t ask for. Because of this, he stood down and there were charges filed against him and a few others. They were saying some really horrible things to me. About you, about my career and your mamis career.” You could tell she was getting emotional, maybe even a little embarrassed. 

“There are certain people in this world that think they can get away with things. Usually it’s men, but sometimes it women too. If you don’t want to do something, hug someone or kiss them or whatever, never let them pressure you. It’s important that if you’re not comfortable, you don’t do it. Even if it’s a feeling in your tummy that you don’t understand, listen to it. You call me, mami, Olga, alba, abuela, or anyone on the team. We will all be there.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you understand what we are saying?” 

“Yeah. Don’t let anyone make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“The same applies to you. If someone tells you to stop, that they are uncomfortable, you stop. Straight away. If someone expresses their discomfort after the fact, you listen, you apologise, you don’t do it again.” 

“Okay I understand.” 

“The reason” your Mamas voice broke as she spoke again, “I’m here is because we are going to trial. Your mami, Irene, Tio Rafa, Codi, they are all going to talk at the trial, I’m going to talk at the trial. That’s part of the reason I’ve- we’ve been so hesitant on you having social media. These people, they have been really really cruel, so have the people online and neither of us want you exposed to that.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” You asked almost shyly. Both nodded at you, “when I was on Olga’s phone, I went through her instagram. I saw the messages she gets.” 

“Yes. It’s not pretty, your mami and I get them too. Alba probably does. All the girls on the team. When you’re a bit older and, um, sexual activity we will revisit this conversation. Do you have any questions about anything?”

You shook your head. At this current time, there were no questions to be asked. It was a lot of information to take in. The thought of kissing a boy or girl, was too much to think about. 

“We are just going to have a chat about your instagram and phone privileges. Do you have homework to get done?” 

It didn’t take long for the house to become loud again. Olga and Rio walked in right as you started your homework. Olga gave you a kiss on the head as you took Rio from her. Leaving the two of you in the lounge room as she went to join your Mami and mama in their room. 

Sometimes you were jealous of Rio. He was just a baby, a baby that had no expectations, no homework, no chores. His only job was to just survive. 

A short time later, your mama, Mami and Olga came out of their room. Your mami taking Rio from you and your mama wrapping her arms tightly around you. 

“We have all come to an agreement. You can keep instagram on a few conditions.” 

“Okay?” 

“1. You make that account private. No one is allowed to follow you expect your friends, family and the girls on the team. If you don’t want them to follow you, you don’t have to accept it, but you cannot accept any strangers. Understand?” 

A small smile crept on your face, “I understand.” 

“Okay, number 2. You have to give the email and password to us. We are allowed to check what you’re looking at, who you’re following and who is messaging you. I know it seems like it’s controlling but it’s for your own safety.”

“Yes! Yes okay!” 

“Wait, don’t get too excited. There’s one more thing: every night, at 8pm, your phone is to be in our bedroom. Just because you are getting instagram, doesn’t mean you’ll be allowed to be on it all night.” 

You nodded quickly, before launching yourself at your mama and then mami and Olga. They were giving you a taste of freedom, they trusted you and you wouldn’t let them down. 

Secretly, you would search your mami and mamas names. Reading the horrible things people said about them made you feel protective over them. They were the best people you knew, the strongest, most loving. It took a lot of self control and conversations with Mapi, but you learned to ignore it. 

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 33. An Unlikely Hero

Summary: Celebrations for Reunification Day are well under way. But it's not a day for all to celebrate. Something a certain family member makes sure she doesn't forget.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

The party was now in full swing, the crowd a mix of pale blue, cream, navy blue and black. The one time of year all the Quadrants interact in celebration of our win over the rebellion. I wave at Austin, Liz and Kai who are with the rest of our squad. I want more than anything to go join them, but I’m stuck with Dain for the evening. Garrick was right, for someone who normally didn’t care about people I sure gave a damn tonight.

”Well I hear you two are excelling in the Quadrant.” A familiar voice says from behind, turning to see General Sorrengail looking at Dain and I. “Sounds like I have some promising prospects for our front line when you two graduate.”

”Thank you General. Hopefully we can serve our nation proudly.” Dain says with a smile I swear he reserves for when he’s sucking up to his superiors.

”I’m sure you will. With signets like yours on our side, nothing can stand in our way.” She says with a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. She almost looks… worried. Why would she be worried? “Anyway, I have a lot of people to see. Enjoy the night.”

I watch her leave, unable to shake the look in her eyes from my memory.

”I see your usual entourage are missing.” Dain notes as he scans the crowd.

I scoff, “Can you blame them? Were celebrating the death of their parents. If you were in their shoes would you want to be here?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “They aren’t the only ones who lost someone on this date.”

Ouch, low blow. And he knows it. I swear I see regret in his eyes before I turn, his hand grazing mine as I walk away, heading for the staircase I know will take me back up to the corridor leading back to the quadrant. I hear him call out to me but I ignore him. He knows I am well aware what today means for us. It had been years since I’d been reminded due to this celebration taking priority. But I still fucking knew.

”Disappointing. Just like always.” His cold voice drawls from behind me as I reach the corridor.

I turn and see my father leaning against the wall, his gaze down on the crowd below. He’d been watching me. Probably waiting for me to sneak off.

”Like I said in that tower, I’m use to being this disappointment. Just another day for me.” I tell him sternly, noting the tick in his jaw at my words.

”And always will be it seems.” He states as he turns his attention to me. “First your mother. And now you fall in with that lot.”

”You know that day wasn’t my fault.” I hiss at him as I bawl my hands into fists at my side.

”It was entirely your fault. If you hadn’t gone running off with those infantry boys, nothing would have happened. If you had been in training like you were meant to, nothing would have happened. And today wouldn’t be tainted by what you did.” He snaps at me as he stalks over to me.

”I didn’t throw the rock!” I nearly yell at him, instantly regretting it as fury washes over his features.

”You might not have thrown it but you were the reason it was thrown. And you chose to throw yourself in with those marked ones. You made those choices, and you will deal with those consequences.”

I shake my head, chuckling nervously at his words. “Trust me, I deal with them every day thanks to you and your lies. But don’t worry, those marked ones you’re so worried about aren’t an issue any more.”

I hated to speak the words, but they were true. I’d already noted how Xaden had been more reserved around me. How much quieter Bodhi had gotten with me. Even Imogen had been around less at training. Either due to me reverting back to the usual cold demeanour I’d had prior to coming here, or due to what had happened with Garrick. Either way, I’d already noted the shift since that night.

”Ah, they finally figured out the disgrace you are. They were going to find out eventually.” He sounds almost pleased by the idea.

”She’s not a disgrace.” Someone calls from behind me, my body going rigid at their voice.

No. Why the hell was he here? He shouldn’t be here. Not today. He should be far away from here. He didn’t celebrate today, and he’d made it clear what he thought of me attending. And yet he was here. Right behind me and…. defending me?

”Please, that’s rich coming from someone like you.” My father shoots back as he narrows his eyes while looking over my shoulder.

”Well aware. But she’s not a disgrace.” Garrick states, his footsteps getting closer and closer.

”And what would you know about her?” My father says cockily, as if he has the upper hand.

”A lot more than you it seems. She’s strong, determined and a hell of a strategist. Hell she’s been running circles around me all year with out blinking an eye.” Garrick rattles off with ease. “And it’s not just me she’s doing it to. She could probably run circles around most of the Wingleaders without a second thought.”

”She’s only like that because of me.” My father lying through his teeth.

”No.” I say loudly, my father shifting his attention to me. “None of that was because of you. All of the was because I was trying to get your approval. When I was young and naïve enough to think if I could do better than Dain that you would love me again.”

”There is nothing you could do to get my approval after killing your mother.”

The words leave his mouth so easily I barely register what he’s said at first. But he said it. He said the words he’s only ever spoken to Dain and I. I look over my shoulder at Garrick who is right behind me, as if standing guard. He doesn’t even seem phased over my fathers words.

”Is that what you tell yourself at night to make you feel better?” Garrick says without missing a beat.

My fathers eyes meet his again. “How dare you speak to me like that cadet. How dare you stand there act like you know better than me.”

”And I will continue to do so, because it’s abundantly clear you know nothing about your own daughter.”

As I look at Garrick, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry. Not even at me. The way he looked at me earlier feels like nothing to how he’s glaring at my father. He was the epitome of if looks could kill. And for the first time since I was a kid, I was actually worried for my father. But I can’t help but feel something else. A feeling I can’t describe because I’ve never felt it before. Not even an hour ago Garrick was pushing me away, being completely shut off to me. And now here he was defending me like I mean something to him.

”And you think you do?” He snaps back at Garrick.

Garrick fucking smirks at my father while crossing his arms across his chest and leaning towards him as he looks down at him. “Definitely. Because if you did you’d realise how amazing she is without any of the so called help you denied her of.”

My father scoffs, taking a step back from Garrick and I. And with a shake of his head he turns and marches down the stairs I’d just come down from. I breathe a sigh of relief as I watch him disappear into the crowd below. Garrick might have won this one for me, but I knew this was far from over. Especially with Garrick stepping in.

I turn and look at Garrick, unsure what I should say. There’s a part of me that wants to yell at him for defending me like that and stepping in. But there’s another part of me that isn’t quite sure how to feel about it. No one had ever defended me like that. Especially not to my father.

”Why?” I ask him finally as I turn to look at him.

Garrick shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering with something I can’t quite place. Hesitation, maybe. Or guilt. “Because it was the right thing to do,” he says simply. “No one should talk to you like that, not even your father.”

His words hit me harder than I expect them to. I cross my arms, partly to shield myself from the sudden vulnerability I feel and partly to keep my hands from trembling. “You don’t understand. It’s… complicated. My father and I—”

“It doesn’t matter how complicated it is,” he interrupts, his voice firm now. “Respect isn’t something that should come with conditions. You deserve better than that.”

I blink at him, stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. The air feels heavy between us, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say.

“I didn’t ask you to fight my battles,” I murmur, though the words feel weak as they leave my mouth.

Garrick lets out a soft laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “You didn’t have to ask. Sometimes, people need someone in their corner, even if they don’t realise it.”

I look away, the knot in my chest tightening. I hate that his words make me feel seen in a way I’m not ready for. “You’re awfully quick to play the hero,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, but it comes out sharper than I intend.

“I’m not trying to be a hero,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m just trying to be… someone you can count on.”

The sincerity in his voice disarms me, and I feel my defences crumbling, piece by piece. I shake my head, letting out a shaky breath. “You don’t even know me, Garrick. Not fully.”

“Maybe not yet,” he admits. “But I’d like to. If you’ll let me.”

I nod, dropping my gaze to the ground as I try to figure out the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside my head. Which wasn’t uncommon in the last few weeks and months since that night in the gym. I look back up, Garrick’s hazel eyes already on me, watching and waiting. There’s a softness and warmth to them I’m not use to seeing and it sends my heart into a chaotic rhythm. The last time he looked at me like this was in that tower after I’d used his signet.

”Garrick….” I start, but I’m unsure what I want to say to him.

”It’s ok,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to say anything.”

But I do. I want to so badly. But I have no idea how to put into words the whirlwind of emotions I’m feeling. Instead I take a step closer, feeling the space us shrink, my heart now pounding loudly, so loud I’m sure he can hear it. Because it’s all I can hear right now.

He doesn’t move an inch, watching as I step towards him. But his eyes flicker down to my lips for the briefest second, enough to make my breath catch. I swallow hard, trying to stop the slight shake that has started in my hands. Before I can stop my self I raise my shields, closing this distance between us as I grasp his flight jacket in my hands and pull him down to me, pressing my lips to his. Fuck it.

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[aesthetic-rxssxs]

Universe: Haikyuu Troupe: Academic Rivals 2nd Person Of View Warnings: Smut Words: 6556

"Short Skirt And An Even Shorter Fuse."

Tsukishima and you. The top of your classes and constantly fighting for the title of number one. He was older by one year, but you were in the same grade being that you had skipped a grade.

What you had thought was going to be a smooth and drama-free High School life, turned into more.

From snide remarks and jabs between you two, there was no room for smooth or drama-free. Pretty much the opposite if we're honest.

It got to the point where you'd deliberately cheer for everybody but Tsukishima on the Volleyball team at their games. Making sure to flip him off or stick your tongue out childishly.

Tsukishima would return it with a scowl or a roll of his eyes. He always prided himself on being good at things without trying. So, there was no way in hell he'd try now just to prove he was good to a nameless nobody he didn't even know that well. Right...?

Wrong. He did. Despite his best efforts to not let you get to him, you always managed to. It was to the point where even his team noticed.

Coach Ukai even provided you with snacks from his convenience store just so you could motivate him to stop being so half-assed. And who were you to deny free food?

One day, you decided to take a new approach and instead cheer for the opposing team. Now, that got Tsukishima's attention.

That day, he had put in more effort than he had before. It surprised everyone. Even you.

They had won by a landslide and you'd think he'd be all smug—but no. He surprised everyone once again by storming off the second the whistle blew. Grappling onto your arm and dragging you out.

He took you to the girl's locker room and shoved you against the wall. His arms were on either side of your head while his eyes were as intense as you'd ever seen them. "What the hell was that?"

"Huh? What the hell was what?" You shook off the initial surprise with a scoff and crossed your arms defensively.

"Don't bullshit me. Why were you cheering for them?" He narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw ticked with tension.

"Because I wanted to. Why else?" You snarked back, clearly annoyed with his new way of annoying you—asking too many questions.

"No, you did it to piss me off. Well, guess what? Congratulations. You've officially pissed me off," He leaned down, his tall stature never intimidating before, suddenly switched to down-right terrifying at this moment.

"So what if I did?" You narrowed your eyes back at him, creating a false face of annoyance and nonchalance.

"So? So?" He scoffed in disbelief. "So, it pissed me the fuck off and now you have to deal with the consequences.”

"Consequences?" You swallowed nervously. Not once had he shown this type of behavior to you. It was new and oddly attractive.

"Yup. Consequences." He breathed against your neck as he leaned his forehead right next to you against the wall. His hands clenched against the wall before his head tilted slightly to glance at you.

Your breath hitched and he was too far gone to mock you. Too tempted to waste time. Instead, he gripped the back of your neck and tugged you in for a rough kiss.

His other hand gripped your hip, tugging you closer as he kissed you eagerly. You were too shocked to do anything but melt into the kiss. Kissing back, you parted your lips.

That was all it took for him to strip off your shirt and tug you over to the showers, stripping his own clothes as he did.

Everything was a blur after that. From the last piece of clothing shed to the squeak of the shower's knob as it turned on, surrounding you with warm water, and to the sounds of skin on skin and the panting noises that came along with it.

Your back against the cold wall as Tsukishima held you up, panting and grunting in your ear as he rolled his hips. His arms tightened around your lower back as he held you up.

The feeling of his dick running along your walls as he fucked out all of the tension and unresolved feelings you two had over the past year, to the feeling of his lips and hands all over your body.

That was the start. The start of your hookups. The random texts and the blissful feelings ignited.

So, as you're at a party, in some skimpy short skirt your friend made you wear, Tsukishima couldn't stop checking you out.

He wasn't the only one, and that knowledge only made his jaw clench and a feeling enter the pit of his stomach. A feeling that can only be described as one thing—jealousy.

His eyes trailed over your body, noting everything on display. From your tits to the pretty pink panties that peeked out every time you bent over to pick up a drink.

You had always been one to be on the less social side. So, seeing you in an outfit like this was a surprise. One he didn't think he'd find himself loving and hating at the same time.

He could already picture it. Him, bending you over against some random piece of furniture in some random room as he slips your panties down your legs before he thrusts into you in one swift motion when he finally gets to tug down his boxers and pants.

Making sure to keep your skirt on so he can mock and tease you for it. Calling it 'a perfect slut's invitation'. He would pick up your panties and dangle them in front of your face, not moving an inch as he does.

Adding that he'll but your next pair with his name embroidered onto it for good measure. To make sure his perfect slut stays his perfect slut.

He could already feel the possessive need to drag you out of the center of the party and up into a random room upstairs to play out his fantasies.

The need trickled up his body until his feet started to move on their own.

In one swift motion, he gripped your arm—just like he did the first day your hookups first started—and dragged you upstairs without a care of who might've saw.

He slammed the door shut and locked it, picking you up under your armpits before throwing you onto the bed.

He crawled over you, trailing his hand down your waist. He reached your skirt and snapped the waistband of it, causing you to gasp and bite your lip.

He clicked his tongue at the movement and tugged your lip down. "Now what did I say about biting that pretty lip, hm?"

Your face flushed at his taunting before you reluctantly recited the words he'd basically engrained in your mind. "That it's your job..."

He smirked smugly, running his hand up and down your waist approvingly. "That's right. And why do you think I brought you up here?"

"Uh, I don't know," You mumbled, forcing yourself not to bite your lip. No matter how tempting it was.

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh as his hand trailed up, hitching it onto his waist, "Don't play coy with me, slut. We both know this skirt is so short you flash your ass by bending over."

He let out a harsh chuckle, "I should know. I saw those pretty pink panties you love so much the second you reached down for a beer."

Your lips parted in shock, your face flushed and your hands gripping the hem of your skirt tightly, willing them to magically grow longer in size.

"Trying to catch someone's attention?" He taunted as he slipped his hand up your thigh slowly, dangerously close to slipping up under your skirt.

You shook your head immediately, "N-no."

"Then why wear this, huh?" He leaned down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He closed his eyes, inhaling that sweet perfume you always wore.

The same one that now stains his sheets for days on end every time you come over.

"My friends made me..." You responded, gulping. You tried not to let his closeness affect you but it never really works in the end.

"Do you always listen to your friends?" He kissed along your neck, nipping every now and then. "Would you jump off of a cliff if they told you to?"

"No," You scoff out in disbelief to which he leans back and grips your jaw. "Watch your tone, sweetheart. I'm not the one flashing everyone, now am I?"

You pout, annoyed. But then you feel a striking sensation between your legs at the implication that he's jealous. And not just jealous, but possessive too.

"Not denying it, huh?" He chuckled and teased your nipples through your shirt. The movement was easy due to you not wearing a bra.

You gasped at the sensation, your head dizzy with pleasure. Your mind already turning to mush as you whimpered out, "Please don't stop, Tsuki..."

He smirked and stopped his movements. "What was that?"

Your lips formed into another pout, knowing he wouldn't continue until you stroked his ego with some begging. "Please, keep touching me..."

He hummed in acknowledgment, thumb rubbing against your ribcage, "Keep touching you where?"

"My breasts," You admitted, finding yourself still able to blush. Even after the many nights you've spent tangled in each other's sheets.

"Good girl," He purred out before tugging your shirt up, kissing up your stomach, leaving your breathing growing in huffs. He reached your breasts and sucked hickeys along them, marking you as his.

He relished in every moan and whimper you let out. Loving the way you gripped his hair when he swirled his tongue around your nipples.

"Of course you'd love some attention to your breasts, you slut," He chuckled and suckled around the perked bud. When he glanced up and saw you about to retort, he used his free hand to tweak your other nipple.

As he saw your lips part and your eyes squeezed shut, he knew his mission succeeded. A prominent smirk settled on his lips as he had gotten what he wanted. Your compliance.

No matter how many times you'd told yourself you'd never let anyone degrade you, he made it seem so enticing. Much to the point you ended up looking forward to it with every interaction you two had.

Even now as he degraded every little response you had to his teasing touches, it couldn't help but make you throb even more.

"That's a good girl," He cooed as he trailed his hands down your waist, caressing every part of you he could. His hands trail down to your hips, caressing them as he practically makes out with your breasts.

Your leg shifts to rest on his back, leg curving to rest your foot on his back where you rub up and down in appreciation to his attention.

He smirks, moving his hand up and under your skirt, teasing the waistband, and pecking your breasts before he kisses down.

He moves your leg up on his shoulder the lower he gets, kissing all the way down to your waistband. "Well if it isn't the one thing that had me throbbing this whole damn party..."

He lets out a husked chuckle when your breath hitches, trailing his finger along the waistband. "How cute."

You whine out, "Stop being so mean..."

"Mean? Mean?" He laughs in disbelief before he pinches the fabric, "Now, these are mean. Making me wanna tilt it up and fuck you in front of everyone. You're playing coy, sweetheart."

"I'm not playing anything," You whined out in protest before he tugged and let go, causing it to snap against your skin.

He grins up at you in a way that makes you think he'd be the perfect Cheshire cat in a play. "Oh, come on. I know you enjoy a little pain. You're my precious little masochist."

You huff, cheeks flushing as your whole body feels hot. You wish you could protest, but you knew it'd be futile. Let's face it, you are his little masochist.

"Ah, so you don't deny it, huh?" He moves his hands down and lifts your skirt up. "I knew my girl wouldn't."

His girl. Something he found himself saying more frequently. He couldn't help it. Especially when you give the best reactions. Like now, for example.

You were tilting your head back, swollen lips parted into a moan as he bit your thigh to emphasize your arousal to pain.

It worked perfectly, he had the perfect view of your panties and watched as a wet patch started to form. He grinned devilishly before he leaned down and poked his nose into your panties.

He relished in your surprised yelp, hips trying to move away but stopped by his nails digging into your thighs, pulling you back.

"Not so fast, pretty girl."

You swallowed hard, hands clenched together at your sides as he grinned, lips brushing against the fabric as he did. Which only serves to make your body tingle with pleasure.

He gave a nice open-mouthed kiss right on top of the wet patch, making your heart race.

"T-Tsukishima?" You trailed off before you yelped. His teeth nipped at your panties, slowly tugging them off, hands trailing up to follow the movements of your panties before he threw them to the side.

"H-hey!" You protested before he pinched your thigh, making you wince and instinctively look down.

"Don't worry, honey. I'll buy you a new pair." He rubbed your thigh before casually adding, "With my name embroidered onto them."

Your eyes widened in surprise but before you could ask him to explain further, his mouth is on your clit as a distraction. That instantly makes your brows tug together and your eyes roll back in a strung-out moan.

He nibbles gently, making your moan grow in pitch. He pulls back and kisses your swollen clit sweetly, looking up at you with a knowing smirk.

Your face is flushed and your eyes are half-lidded as you look down at him with a half-assed glare. Lips forming into a pout, "No fair..."

He chuckles, "Are you seriously complaining right now, sweetheart?"

You shake your head reluctantly and he takes that as a no. His hand rubs your thighs up and down, loving the sight of you laid out with your legs on his shoulders.

He makes a point to kiss up your thighs until he reaches where you want him most. He looks up and you nod in encouragement.

He dives in, licking a nice long stripe up along your slit, ripping another moan out of you. He continues, this time flattening his tongue and trailing his tongue up, making you shudder.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control your noises but find that entirely impossible once he slips a finger in.

You choke on a gasp and your gummy walls clamp down on his finger in reaction. He hums in satisfaction and wraps his lips around your clit, suckling.

You whimper, legs trying to clamp around him but failing when he pinched your thigh with his free hand, making you stop.

You gulp when he slips another finger in, pumping them in and out before he pulls off your clit and pecks it. “You’re making such sweet noises for me.”

You whimper, the compliment making you blush even more.

“Please, Tsukishima…” You gasped, trying to think about anything but his relentless movements with his fingers. “I-I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” He taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance and confidence. He didn’t stop moving, finger-fucking you steadily while gently sucking on your swollen clit, making you writhe helplessly beneath him. “Can’t take it? Or can’t handle the fact that I’m the one making you feel this way?"

You swallowed, trying to find the right words but failing as your mind grows blank the more he touches you.

“How cute,” He cooed, borderlining on mocking. “You can’t even speak properly anymore. Just a pretty little mess for me, huh?”

“God, yes—just like that," You whined, not even hearing his previous comment when his fingers curled to hit that spongey spot that made your mind go blank.

“Look at you. So small, so needy. I could ruin you, you know. Make you want it so bad you wouldn’t know how to function without my fingers inside you.”

“Please,” You whimpered again, desperation creeping up to an almost embarrassing point. “I’m so close...”

“Close to what?” he challenged playfully, pulling his fingers out for just a second before plunging them right back in, mixing pleasure with just the right amount of edge.

“Tsuki!” You choked on a moan, trying to keep your dignity but finding it hard when he was teetering you to the edge of bliss. “Stop—stop teasing me!”

A devilish smirk crossed his lips, one you saw him make plenty of times in situations like this, “What’s the fun in making it easy for you?”

“I… I—” You stuttered, mind foggy from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and his relentless teasing. You clutched the sheets, knuckles white as you tried to ground yourself.

“That’s it, let go for me,” He encouraged, suckling harder on your clit. With a gasp, you felt the tension snap, and your entire body tensed up as pleasure surged through you.

“Good girl,” He murmured

“See,” He whispered with a teasing tone, licking his lips. “I told you I could ruin you, and no one else would even come close.”

“You’re insufferable.” You grumble out, not able to refute his evident-backed statement. You sat up on your elbows, looking down at him. The lower half of his face is glistening and it makes you flush.

He smirks at your comment, knowing it's a weak attempt to get back at him for his arrogant remarks. "You're just realizing that now?" He teases, his voice low and husky as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, making you whimper at the loss.

He smirks at your reaction, loving the flustered expression that overtakes you. He crawls up over you until he's face-to-face with you. His face with a mischievous grin, bordering on a smirk.

"Look at that face... completely spent from just my fingers." The arrogant smirk still plays on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, slowly sucking them clean.

"I bet you'd say anything right now just to have something else inside you." His voice drops further, becoming almost seductive.

You swallowed. He leans down and nuzzles his glistening nose against yours, face tilted in a way that lets him kiss the corner of your mouth.

"Would you rather my tongue? Or maybe..." He pauses, intentionally teasing you further. "...my cock? You're dripping wet and whimpering my name so nicely, maybe you're not so proud anymore, hmm?"

His dark eyes fixate on you with a mix of satisfaction and further intent. It was a look that you see just before he decides to fuck you.

"I can see it in your eyes, you want me to fuck you senseless. Beg for it." He commands, voice low and demanding.

He leans down, lips brushing against your ear. "Beg me to fill you up and I'll give you exactly what you need."

"God..." You moaned softly, your hips bucking slightly as you try to get friction anywhere. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and lust as you swallow thickly.

"Please..." You whimper, almost inaudible. You try again, louder this time, "Tsukishima..."

A smug grin spreads across his face, satisfied with himself for breaking your determination so easily. He leans down, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

"See? I knew you could beg properly when you wanted something bad enough." His hand slipped between your thighs again, thumb brushing against your soaked folds.

"You want this?" He asks mockingly, moving his finger up slowly to brush feather-light over your clit.

"You want me to fill you up and make you forget everything else?" He adds, adding pressure. He can feel the way your breath quickens, hips slightly rocking as soft moans spill out of your swollen lips.

You choke on a gasp, nodding. His eyes boring into your foggy ones, eyes welling up.

He chuckles darkly, amused by your desperate attempts to draw him closer. With a swift movement, he removes his fingers, leaving you aching and whimpering.

"Greedy girl," He murmurs against your lips, reaching down to his belt, and unbuckling it. He licks his lips, the movement making you feel the whisper of his tongue grazing your lips.

Once he unlatches the metal, he unbuttons and drags the zipper down his pants. He tugs his boxers off just enough for his erection to slap against his abdomen.

He laughs at the way your mouth grows slack-jawed. He always loved the way your face morphed when you see his cock.

He tilts your head and gives you a quick slow kiss, body arching slightly as his erection squeezes in between your bodies. The feeling of him pressed against you making you moan into the kiss.

He pulled back, pecking your lips before he spoke. "Last chance to beg, princess. Should I fuck you or leave you like this? I think you deserve it for wearing such a short skirt."

His self-control is barely hanging on as he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily from anticipation. "Because I don't know if I can wait for you to answer, baby..."

His hips nudge forward slightly, letting you feel his thickness and the cool metal of his belt against your thigh. He grins when he hears your breath hitch, your body shuddering at the contrast of the cool metal to your heated body.

A smug grin plays on his lips as he teases you, pressing just the tip of his cock against your entrance without actually entering.

"You're so fucking wet, I could slide in so easily... Should I?" He leans down, catching your lip between his teeth again.

"Please...?" You whimper as you swallow down your pride, clit pulsing as he teases you. His self-control snaps at the desperate plea you made against his lips, one hand gripping your hip while the other guides himself inside you slowly.

"Oh fuck..." He whispers, voice thick with pleasure as he stretches you. "You were right to beg, baby..."

He begins to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm, making your body arch. His hand finds your breast, squeezing and kneading it as he picks up the pace.

"You feel so fucking good," He groans, burying his face in your neck, breathing ragged. "I could fuck you all night..."

He pulls out of you suddenly, his cock slick with your juices, making you whine out in protest. He stands up, towering over you as he grips your ankle and drags you to the edge of the bed.

"On your knees, princess. You know how I like it," He orders, his voice cold and commanding. "I'm not done with you yet."

You quickly get on your knees on the bed, your ass high in the air, waiting. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair disheveled, and you're covered in a thin a layer of sweat.

He takes one look at you and almost looses control again. He spreads your thighs wider with his hands. "Atta' girl."

"God damn..." He mutters, watching your soaking wet pussy spread open for him. He spreads your cheeks further apart, lining his tip against your entrance again, and pushes in hard and deep, making you cry out and grip the sheets tightly.

He finds your hips again, his thumb spreading you wider while you can do nothing but moan and whimper.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well... such a good girl, aren't you?” He increases his pace, each thrust hitting deeper, slapping against your ass. You choke on a moan, clenching with every thrust.

One hand moves to grab your hair, tilting your head back and making you arch. "Who owns this perfect little pussy? Who fucks it every other day and eats it out the other days, hm?"

"Y-you..." You gurgled out, drool pooling in your mouth before it spilled onto the poor unsuspecting host's sheets.

"Fucking right it's me." He snarls possessively, his hips snapping forward and back, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

His other hand moves to play with your clit, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. You squeal, the harsh treatment making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. "F-fuck...Tsuki..."

He chuckles darkly at your desperate cries, feeling the smug satisfaction of owning your pleasure so completely.

"Ngh," He slurred slightly. "Scream my fucking name then," He demands, rubbing your clit faster, harder. Aiming to drive you wild.

"Let everyone at this stupid party fucking hear who wrecks this tight cunt. My cunt."

His cunt. And there's no way you'd ever deny him that. Not when he fucks you so good you forget until the beautiful aching settles in your foggy brain when you wake up the next morning.

You whimper and grab the sheets as each thrust makes your body coil forward. Your breathing heavy, panting like a dog.

He grins wickedly and leans down over you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as his hips slam forward in rapid succession, his thick length massaging that perfect spot inside you.

His actions only serve to make you cry out louder, moans and whimpers impossible to hold back. His fingers are a blur on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come on, princess."

You gasp out desperately, shaking your head as you croak out, "S' too much... always too much..." You whine, body shaking with pleasure as his hips never falter.

"Too much of what?" He growls, breathing ragged. His smirk is present as his warm breath washes over your shoulder. He continues to pound into you mercilessly, his fingers working your swollen bud furiously.

"Too much of my thick cock stretching you out?" He chuckles cruelly, punctuating each question with a hard thrust. Making you thrust forward with his harsh thrusts, whimpering and puffing out breaths.

You claw at the sheets, the pool of drool underneath your mouth making the experience all the more surreal.

His free hand wraps around your throat from behind, tilting your head back further as he continues his brutal pace. He wipes the drool off the corner of your lips.

"Answer me, princess. Is this cock too much for your needy little cunt?" His fingers move faster on your clit, bringing you dangerously close to orgasm.

You can't form words, too choked up on your sobs and hiccups to properly respond. Moans and whimpers are the only things you're able to make.

With a wicked smirk, he tightens his grip around your throat slightly, silencing your desperate noises.

"I'll take that as a yes," He chuckles darkly, his relentless pace making the bed creak ominously. The squelching noises of you sucking him in on par.

You mewl, arching as he hits that spot inside that makes everything not register. Nothing but the overwhelming pleasure that makes your body tingle.

He lets out a satisfied grunt, feeling your inner walls start to convulse around his length. "Fuck… you’re so fucking tight," He groans his fingers moving in frantic circles on your clit as he chokes you gently.

"You think I can make you cum harder than all those other times I've fucked you nice and snug?" He chuckles tauntingly, kissing your temple.

You gasp and lean into his touches, body lolling back and slacking as you clench uncontrollably, body on the verge of euphoria. Moans and desperate pleas coming out in croaks.

He smirks in satisfaction as he feels your walls flutter desperately around his throbbing cock. His fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, your orgasm hovering tantalizingly close.

"That's it, clench tighter for me, princess. Milk my cock like you've never had anything better. Which we both know you haven't..." He teases, nibbling on the shell of your ear.

You whimper and clench, clit pulsing beneath his skilled fingers, body aching and sweaty as it takes every punishing thrust of his.

He watches your body writhe and tense, your moans getting louder and more desperate. His teeth sink into your neck possesively, making you yelp.

"You know what would make this even better?" He rasps darkly into your ear, and his finger moves faster, pressing down harder on your little bud.

You pant, gulping before you manage to respond. Croaking out a small, "What?"

"If I wrapped my arms around your waist, and pulled you even closer, making it hurt a little more but feel even better," He growls, his powerful arms wrapping around your midsection.

He pulls you back, his chest to your back so that his mushroom-shaped tip hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

You whine and convulse, your body shuddering at the feeling of his arm squeezing you. The pressure makes you feel his cock pound into you even more. You croak, "F-fuck...!"

"That's right, princess. Take my cock like a good slut. You're squeezing me so perfectly I might actually cum before you," He punctuates each word with another brutal thrust.

He maintains his punishing pace against that sensitive spot deep inside you, panting, "Or maybe I'll just edge you..."

“Tsuki, Tsuki, Tsuki, Tsuki...!" You let out a dragged-out moan in a mantra. Pleading for him to continue or to stop, you don't know. All you know is that he's fucking your gummy walls just right.

Groaning in arousal at your desperate moan of his name, he leans in to nip sharply at your ear.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty begging for me," He rasps, his hips maintaining that brutal pace. The wet sounds of flesh smacking against flesh fill the air.

"Can...can't take it, Kei, baby..." You sniffled, chirping out a whimper. "Gonna—gonna cum."

He smirks darkly, knowing he's making you go crazy with pleasure. His hand on your hip tightens, pulling you back onto his cock as he pistons into you relentlessly.

"That's it, princess. Cum for me. Remind me of why I keep your pretty little cunt around..." He encourages into your ear, pinching your clit.

You throw your head back and buck, cumming around him on instinct. You sob and spasm, your body squirming as he fucked you through your orgasm. You whisper his name out in a mantra, vision blurry.

His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he feels your tight little cunt milking his cock for all it's worth.

He grunts and pounds into you a few more times before finally stilling, his cock throbbing inside you as he unloads a massive load of his seed deep into your womb.

Your eyes widen and you claw at his arm, your voice slurring, "N-no... can't cum in me," You hiccup, "Not on... birth control...."

He freees at your words, his mind hazy from the intense high of his orgasm. For a moment, he just stays still, buried deep inside you as he processes your words.

Then, he pulls out, his softening cock slipping out of your used hole with a wet plop! You fall down onto your front, shaking and panting as you try to calm down.

Your body clenches from the after-effects of your intense orgasm, making his and your shared cum spill out from your position on your front with your ass up.

He watches your body wracked with aftershocks, his seed mixed with your fluids trickling down your inner thighs. His jaw tightens.

"Damn," He mutters softly to himself, his eyes fixated on your spread thighs and your puffy, well-used little cunt.

You pant, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Your eyes are half-lidded and red from your previous sobbing.

"I'm sorry, princess," He murmurs softly, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I didn't mean to cum inside you. I'll make sure to pull out next time, okay?"

You swallow, not used to his sweet demeanor but finding yourself not complaining in the slightest. You hum against his lips in acknowledgment, "Okay.."

He smiles softly, ruffling your hair before pulling back. He watches your body, your back glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with their mixed fluids.

He swallows hard, his Adams apple bobbing and his eyes flicking to your round bottom. He bites his lip, eyes darkening again. "Baby?"

"Yeah...?" I croak out.

"Can I...?" He hesitated, his fingers trailing along your curves possesively. "Can I check if any of it went in?" He asks softly, his fingers splaying out on your bottom possessively.

"Just to make sure none got in..." You nod, giving him permission to check with a mumble, "I s'ppose so..."

He nods, his fingers spreading your bottom apart gently. He leans down, his face inches from your used hole. He blows gently, making you shiver, before pressing his mouth to your aching entrance.

He licks gently, cleaning you up and checking for any of his seed that may have gotten inside. You whimper and grasp the sheets, his check-up making you squirm.

He hums softly, his tongue delving inside you to make sure none of his cum got in. He pulls back after a moment, satisfied that he got it all out.

He presses a soft open-mouthed kiss to your hole before standing up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tilting your skirt back down.

You pant and look over your shoulder, breathing ragged. "Are we done...? Can I...Can I get up..?"

"Mmh," He answers softly, watching you closely. He's half hard again from how needy and sensitive you look. "You can get up," He adds, his eyes flicking down to your thighs again.

You nod and roll onto your back, slowly sitting up, your body feeling sore and achy.

"Easy there..." He moves closer, catching your waist as you sit up unsteadily. His eyes darken slightly as he notices fresh tears welling up in those beautiful eyes.

"Are you okay?" His touch is surprisingly gentle now, all business-like dominance forgotten. "Did I... hurt you?"

"No," You let out a choked laugh and sniffle, "Just the overwhelming pleasure, you know?"

He blinks, momentarily stunned by your response. Then slowly, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Overwhelming pleasure, huh?" He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Well, princess, that's called being fucked properly. But that’s no news to you, is it?”

You scoff, but your lip twitches up into a grin. You stand up and reach for your clothes that he had thrown to the side prior. He watches you dress, his eyes roaming over your figure appreciatively.

He can't help but notice the way you wince slightly as you pull your pink panties up. He stands up slowly, buttoning his shirt back up, "Where are you going?"

"Well, I can't exactly stay at this party all wobbly-legged. I'm a total mess. I'm not trying to have the walk of shame and parade around. I'm going home." You go to the nearby mirror and fix your appearance.

He nods, understanding. He moves to stand beside you in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at you.

He runs a hand through his messy blonde hair, looking a bit worn out from the late night and the intense fuck session. "Alright, I'll walk you home."

You smile crookedly, "Thanks."

His reflection smirks softly back at you, watching you try to tame your wild hair. He noticed how you wince slightly as you put on your heels. His jaw tightens slightly.

"Are you sore?" He asks softly, his voice lower than usual. You turn around to look at him once you're satisfied with how you look.

"You know I am." You peck his cheek and grab your purse before heading to the door and opening it. "You coming?"

He follows you out of the room, his eyes on your swaying hips. He catches up to you easily, his long legs eating up the distance. He places a hand on the small of your back as you walk down the hallway, guiding you gently. "I'll make sure you get home safe."

"That's not what I'm worried about. I just hope nobody can smell the sex on us. I do not want to be known as the chick who hooks up at some random parties." Your nose scrunched up at the mere idea.

He chuckles softly, his hand tightening on your waist possessively as he guides you through the crowded party. He can feel eyes on you, wondering where you disappeared and who you disappeared with.

He can already imagine the whispers and rumors spreading like wildfire tomorrow. Especially considering how you two are known as academic rivals—enemies.

You lean onto him, trying to mask the wobble in your step as you head out of the party. He wraps an arm around your waist in response, pulling you closer to him to steady you.

He can feel the curious stares and whispers following you two out of the party. He ignores them, focusing on getting you home safely before the rumors start to spread on the internet.

You follow his steps. His stride is steady and sure, guiding you down the dark streets leading away from the party. The crisp night air hits your faces, covering you both up slightly.

He steals glances at you every few seconds, noticing how you're trying to walk normally despite everything. "Stop pretending like you're not limping."

You huff, pouting. "M’ not pretending... I'd just rather not put any unnecessary strain.."

He arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he glances down at your determined yet pained strides.

In one swift movement, he scoops you up bridal-style, ignoring your startled gasp. "Like hell you're walking any further. I'm carrying you."

"What the hell, Tsukishima?!" You yelped, holding onto him tightly in fear of falling. He just smirks, his arms tightening around you to keep you secure as he continues walking.

He ignores your outburst, knowing damn well you wouldn't be able to walk much further anyway. His long strides eat up the distance, bringing you closer to your home with each step.

You huff and instead let your head fall back, watching the scenery upside-down while he carries you to your house. He finds the whole situation amusing, carrying his academic rival and casual hook-up like a bride.

He can't help but chuckle softly to himself as he walks, the upside-down view of your face making him smirk wider.

He reaches your house sooner than expected, his long legs covering the distance quickly. You lift your head up, your head spinning from whiplash before you rest your head on his shoulder.

He sets you down gently in front of your door, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. He fishes your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door swiftly.

He steps inside, carrying you again once he's inside, kicking the door shut behind him. "Shh...! My parents will hear you," You whisper shout at him.

"Then stop squirming, "He mutters softly, his hands on your ass to keep you still as he carries you up the stairs.

He freezes suddenly, hearing your parents' TV on downstairs. He swallows, trying to be quieter. "Your room?"

You nod and he carries you to your room, being as quiet as possible. He sets you down on your bed gently, looking around to make sure everything is in order.

Satisfied, he turns back to you, kneeling down to remove your heels. "Stay put," He orders softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nod, head bobbing and your eyes droop as the night finally catching up to you. He watches your eyelids flutter heavily, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he realizes just how drunk you actually are.

Finishing with your heels, he gently tucks your blanket around you, ensuring you're comfortable before standing up quietly. "Sleep it off, idiot."

You place your hand on his before he leaves, murmuring out a soft, "Be careful on your way out."

Tsukishima pauses, glancing down at your hand on his with a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Momentarily taken aback by your sudden concern, a softness brushed across his usually stern features.

With a brief nod, he squeezes your hand lightly. "I can handle myself."

You smile softly before you let go of his hand and slowly succumb to sleep. He watches your breathing even out, a rare gentle expression softening his angular features.

With a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he turns and exits your room silently, closing the door with barely a sound.

Masterlist. Masterlist.haikyuu

February 9, 2025. PST: 7:40 PM.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

If you've seen Werepapas, you must be just as baffled as everyone else during "that" scene, huh?

And if you didn't, trust me, you will.

I haven't been watching season six and, based on what I've heard about it, the only way I would ever watch it is if some form of payment was involved. However, I do know what scene you're talking about because I follow enough blogs to have seen the chaos.

For those who are a little more removed from the fandom, the new episode Werepapas just aired and, in it, Adrien's grandparents are akumatized via his amok rings. This is actually a nice bit of tension because we know that akumas can be overcome by talking it out instead of fighting, but we haven't seen what that looks like with the new butterfly holder. This episode provides a good way to show off what that looks like now, emphasizing how much harder it is to deal with Lila's manipulation and establishing that talking it out will not be as easy as it was in season four and five. It also gives Adrien a moment to shine as he obviously has to be the one to free his own grandparents since Marinette has no connection to them and you can't destroy the rings without killing him, right?

Right?

[Image description: Adrien's amok rings lying broken in Ladybug's hand. An akuma is coming out of them, but there is no feather]

Wrong! Let's just let Ladybug break the rings without consequences while Adrien is trapped in a trophy and left completely out of another fight with his family. That's way better story telling!

I know people are horrified by this and asking why Ladybug apparently didn't even try to find another way to free the akuma, but I'm just laughing because I called that she could probably do this months ago! Crocoduel logic fits the pattern! The rings probably had to be on fingers for the amok to go free or some similar bullshit.

Or maybe this is some new logic? Or maybe Adrien isn't a sentimonster after all! Or maybe Lila stole his rings offscreen/in the still unaired first episode! Who knows? Not me! The complete lack is logic is what makes it fun, though, right? Right?

Btw, since we're talking about Marinette and the rings, does anyone know how Marinette knows that the rings are Adrien's amok? Who told her? It wasn't Gabriel or Félix. Did it happen in the London special? Does she even know or was she only hesitant to break the rings because she knew how much they meant to Adrien? I honestly have no idea. I'm still not sure if she knows that he's a sentimonster since all she was canonically told was that Emilie randomly got pregnant after a long battle with infertility:

Félix: But even the best remedies couldn't seem to overcome their curse. (Marinette squints her eyes, immersing herself more in the story.) Félix: Until one day, the curious princess learned that she was expecting — (Both depict Emilie pregnant and Gabriel, with peacock feathers spreading on the background.) Félix: She was pregnant. (Marinette's eyes widen upon realization.)

And that Amelie also got pregnant soon after using the peacock:

Félix: The curious princess felt badly for her twin sister. So, she asked the tailor if he could do something for the good princess and the lord of war to have a child as well. (The scene switches to Félix, acting as Gabriel, talking to Kagami who is acting as Colt.) Félix: (as Gabriel) After much study, I have discovered a solution for you and your wife. But there will be a price to pay. You will give me your best knight to guard my future son. In exchange, I will lend you this magic amulet. It will allow you to give life to your dream and to control it. Kagami: (as Colt) Sorcery? Never! Félix: (as Gabriel) Well, it's up to you, of course. (Just as "Gabriel" is about to take back his offer, "Colt" chases after his hand and accepts this "sorcery" that "Gabriel" talks about, taking the Peacock Miraculous with him as well.)

Ah Miraculous, you never change. How a show for kids is so confusing is beyond me!

note this is all what I've picked up second hand so feel free to let me know if I got any details wrong

[sugar-crash]

🪲👑CYBUG King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🍭🕷️

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Ask here! Had a ball writing this one, let me tell you, I LOVE MONSTROUS BUG PPL!! And this one in particular has a very special place in my heart lol, he’s so fucked up lookin’)

- Alright so, one thing we can agree on is that for both sides of this predicament here is that things escalate and escalate quickly, even before you see each other in person once more.

- I mean, imagine being roped into the nonsense that Ralph causes when he game jumps alongside Fix-It Felix and Calhoun… Essentially third wheeling them, their strange yet endearing dynamic blossoming right in front of you. Maybe a part of you is reminded of that long gone romance between you and Turbo.

- Every step, every word, everything feels as if it’s trying to make you remember him, down to the point when Felix tells Calhoun of Turbo in such a ‘in your face’ manner rather than beating around the bush or vaguely referring to him like people of the arcade usually do—

- The negative effects of that only making those supposedly long dead feelings come out of the woodwork, his influence seemingly all encompassing as haunts the narrative of the overall story.

- And the kicker? The cherry on this vile sundae?? That bastard is still ALIVE, HASN’T EVEN CHANGED, dramatically introducing himself to the little girl he’s trying to MURDER, to the guy he literally manipulated, and unknowingly to you, and he’s just as impulsive and selfish as you remembered him to be.

- To say there’s some negative consequences to this would be an understatement of the century… I can’t imagine a reader who would be ok with all of this crazy all at once. Especially if you were scorned by him in the past.

- Constantly having to walk on eggshells only for him to complain about the crunching sounds said eggshells are making… Yeah no it’s not fun and having to deal with weird bug monster things makes it even worse.

- Not to mention having to deal with him in a monster bug form that TOWERS over a 9ft Ralph and IS ABLE TO FUCKING PICK HIM OFF OF THE GROUND??? Terrifying. Terrible— Unfathomable.

- The wide variety of words I have in my arsenal would not be able to fully describe the absolute magnitude of it for anyone.

- I can’t imagine a final confrontation that doesn’t involve you guys duking it out in some way, I live for that type of angsty shit— Like trying to fight him as a means to stall for Ralph? Maybe.

- Having to handle your ex that’s a mutated, feral, and downright manic version of himself is something nightmares are made out of, having such a great disadvantage from not only his overpowered body, but with the emotional damage of all these sudden revelations this god forsaken night has caused?? Yeah it’s rougher than rough, which I believe Cybug King Candy would absolutely delight in.

- His sadistic tendencies being right out in the open now, now that he has the confidence and the form to back it up—

- Even if you two had something in the past, he still delights in misery, maybe has a twisted delight in seeing you in particular all bent out of shape about everything he’s doing not only to Sugar Rush but also to the main cast.

- If he’s given the chance I do see him trying to sweep you off of your feet, like, literally. Flaunting off his new form, relishing in your palpable fear among other things, it’s as if he strives to make you squirm.

- Keeps you on your toes with his unpredictable behavior, constantly switching from being overly joyful one second and frighteningly aggressive the next. He’s unstable both physically and mentally, face constantly glitching from the one you used to know all those years ago to this new more crazed one with a sharp toothed grin and a bloodthirsty glint in his eye.

- The audacity oozing from him is deadly when he’s the self-appointed ‘final boss’, throwing you around like a rag doll through the air and catching you by the leg just because.

- But in a way he’s always been like this, but now he has the power to be what he wants, and that’s something that craves power, thinks he’s owed it for everything he does.

- I believe he thinks he’s owed you in particular, all the worst of him out in the open, not afraid to reveal those ugly parts of himself anymore, too far down the rabbit hole to stop and think.

- Which, as we all know, is how he gets got, letting his gloating and sadistic side to have too much of the spotlight, being inevitably put down like the rabid dog he is.

- Much like how he is with so many other things, he simply couldn’t resist letting those metaphorical and literal wings of his melt like Icarus, no more redos, no more chances, no more him.

(.. ... / - .... .. ... / . -. -.. / --- ..-. / .. - --..-- / . -. -.. / --- ..-. / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. ..--..)

[songbirdseung]

older / park jonseong

jongseong tried his best to be the man for you, to be the one you deserved, did everything for you, showed you how much he loved you. but only gets a heartbreak in return. song recommendation: older by conor matthews & universe by thuy

i think it's safe to say that most people find childhood love to be one of the purest and most endearing things. there’s something so innocent about the way two kids can form a bond—stable yet naive, built on nothing but shared laughter, pinky promises, and the simple joy of each other’s company. to the parents watching from the sidelines, it’s heartwarming. seeing their child shower someone else with love, even in the smallest ways, reassures them that they’ve raised a kid who knows how to care, how to cherish. it feels like proof that they’ve done something right.

but on the other side of the argument, there are those who believe young love is nothing more than fleeting foolishness; that kids have no business being in relationships, that they’re too young to grasp what love truly means or to handle the inevitable heartbreak that follows. let children be children, they say.

your parents and jay’s, however, never thought that way. in their eyes, you and jay were something special. two kids who found each other early, who had the rare gift of experiencing love when most were still figuring out friendship. they saw it as a blessing; something rare, something precious. after all, how lucky were you to find someone who made your heart race before you even understood what it meant? someone who, even in your youth, you were certain you could never be without?

but love, as beautiful as it was, had a way of making people blind. and for as much as your parents adored the bond you and jay shared, they also overlooked the dangers of it. because love at that age wasn’t just innocent... it was reckless. it was consuming. it was two kids falling headfirst into something they didn’t fully understand, unable to see the consequences waiting down the road.

how does someone go from being a stranger to becoming your entire world? how does a person you never even noticed suddenly become the only thing occupying your mind? how does someone go from nothing… to everything?

it started small, as most arguments do. just a spark, something barely worth acknowledging... until suddenly, it wasn’t.

"you don't get it," jay huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, brows furrowed in frustration.

"what is there to get?" you shot back, voice sharp, laced with something you didn’t quite understand yet. "you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“it’s not nothing.”

you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “oh, right. because me walking home with someone else one time is apparently the end of the world.”

jay exhaled, looking away, jaw clenched so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grind. “it’s not about that.”

“then what is it about, jay?”

he hesitated.

you could see the way he was struggling, the way he was trying to find the right words, like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if he should say it. and it frustrated you. the silence, the tension, the fact that you were even fighting in the first place over something so stupid, something that should have never turned into this.

so you pushed.

"i don’t understand why you’re acting like this," you muttered, softer now, but still just as stubborn. "like i did something wrong.”

jay ran a hand through his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as he exhaled again, slower this time.

"because," he started, finally meeting your eyes, and for the first time since this argument began, he wasn’t just frustrated, he was hurt. "because i was supposed to walk you home."

your breath hitched.

he shook his head, almost like he was mad at himself for even saying it. "because that’s our thing. and then i saw you with him and-” he stopped himself, letting out a dry laugh that didn’t sound anything like him. "never mind. forget it."

but you couldn’t. because suddenly, it wasn’t about walking home with someone else. it wasn’t about something as mundane as that. it was about jay; jay, who always waited for you after school even when it made him late. jay, who never let you walk on the outer side of the sidewalk. jay, who carried your bag when you complained it was too heavy, who always made sure you got home safe, who, without ever needing to say it out loud, cared in a way you didn’t fully realize until now.

it was about something so much bigger than the argument itself.

it was about you and him.

and maybe… maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

what was once love and adoration turned into sour and bitter remnants of a relationship that had once been everything. the easy laughter, the stolen glances, the quiet understanding. it all turned into sharp words, exhausted sighs, and the undeniable ache of something slipping through your fingers.

the final fight wasn’t about something small anymore. it wasn’t a misunderstanding, a fleeting argument over something that would be forgotten by morning. it was everything, years of built-up tension, of unspoken words, of feelings neither of you knew how to handle at such a young age.

"so that's it?" your voice wavered, trying to sound angry, trying to sound like you didn’t care, but failing miserably.

jay's jaw was clenched, hands in fists at his sides. his eyes held that same look they always did whenever you fought; not just frustration, but something deeper. something pained.

"what else do you want me to say?" he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "we're just… we're not us anymore."

the words hit harder than they should have.

because he was right.

you weren’t the same two kids who thought love was just hand-holding and pinky promises. you had changed, grown into versions of yourselves that no longer fit together the way they once did. and maybe, deep down, you knew this was inevitable.

but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

the next few weeks passed in a blur. apologies left unsaid, memories packed away, and then, just like that, jay was gone.

moved to another state. a clean break.

no chance to fight for it. no chance to fix it.

just distance, silence, and the heavy weight of knowing that what once was everything had turned into nothing but a memory neither of you wanted to hold onto.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Okay so. It seems I'm in the minority about not liking the Spike-With-A-Soul plot. I've not really interacted with the Buffy fandom before this so its wild to me this is how people view it. Because the thing is...

Buffy is at its best, always, when it rejects the concept of ontological evil Vs good and of all the shows from that era (charmed is a big one that comes to mind) I think Buffy when it got a few seasons under its belt was one of the best shows at rejecting the ontological evil Vs ontological good mindset despite the fact that it's a monster of the week show. Oz, Buffy, Faith, Spike, Buffy, Willow, Harmony, Xander, Riley, Anya, Warren, Jonathan, Andrew - all of these characters are continuously used to show moral complexity, particularly that goodness is a choice and what does it mean to be a harm to others?

And spike epitomises that. He is the monster who suddenly had to deal with not being allowed to kill people; which led him to form bonds (particularly with Buffy and Dawn, but I'd argue he makes bonds with the rest of the Scoobies bar maybe Xander too) which led him into empathy and trying to do good even when it came at his own expense. There is this lingering question by season 6 with spike; if you removed his chip would he go back to how he was in season 2? Would he kill and maime and torture, or would he make the choice to be good just like the rest of the Scoobies have to do daily even when giving in would be easier.

And I think spike would have a wobble sure, very Anya esque in that regard, but I think he'd ultimately just like Anya NOT find it easy to go back to being 'evil' after having his chip removed even without a soul. And the lore implications to that are FACINATING and way cooler to explore than like. Soul = good, not soul = bad.

And also...I know people are like 'he was irredmiable after seeing red so it had to happen so we could like him again' but uhhhh that's actually one of the reasons I DONT like spike getting a soul. It really feels like the writers wanted a cop out, a way for us to go on shipping and engaging with Spuffy and absolve Spike. See he did a terrible thing but he can still be your pathetic little favourite wet man because we gave him a get out of jail free card! And that's just...kinda nothing to me? I mean sure he worked for that soul, did the trials, but it's not the same as actively having to deal with doing a terrible, unforgivable thing and where you go from there. It's just. It feels so cheap. Like they wanted the 'edgy, brutal' scene but they didn't ACTUALLY want the consequences so oops he's got a soul now don't worry about it he can still be your fav little guy. (And yeah, I mean. I do think the writers would have struggled with spike after seeing red if they didn't do something drastic - but if they weren't willing to grapple with it they shouldn't have done it, otherwise it just feels even more ick to me ya know.)

Idk I like season 7 for what it is but I think ultimately it was a backslide from so many interesting things set up in season 6, even willow kinda goes back to having good Vs bad sides rather than just being a complex individual with capacity for both. And spike is the Biggie for me because I'd have MUCH rather had the plot of 'buffy removes spikes chip and trusts that he's become a better person and doesn't need it anymore' than 'spike has a soul now so he's chill'. Also I think it would have made his plot with the first and potential killing waaaaay more engaging if they hadn't been able to write it off with 'but he has a SOUL now'.

(I think a really interesting plot would have been everyone THINKS spike has a soul even spike but it turns out he DOESNT and what the fuck does THAT mean?)

[valrayne-faeu]

Info about the Faewilds and Forming a Court

(long post incoming)

The Faewilds/the Wilds/Wildes/etc is the general term for any area in the fae realms that is not a part of a court. A court is considered a region of fae that has its own signature magic and (usually) a kingdom of some kind overseeing and organizing said fae.

The Wilds are a network of complex and varied regions that each have their own unique 'rules' and ecosystems. Some forests might require you to skip through them or you'll grow older with every step. You might have to cross a certain river backwards or you'll lose your voice. Some areas might have no consequences for breaking their rules, but the gravity is reversed. It is these rules/laws of reality that will cause any wayward traveller to likely not be the same after traversing the Wilds-- even if you think you made it through safely, there's no telling what you might have lost or had changed that you don't even realize.

Likewise, the fae beasts and other creatures of legend that live out in the Wilds each have their own rules for interaction that they're not likely to explain to you upon meeting. Any misstep with a wild fae or beast is liable to result in you losing something precious or being cursed.

There is precious little documentation of the regions, beasts, and their rules because they're so very complex and change--the magic and rules that make them up are ever shifting, and what worked once might be your doom now. All fae that have attempted to document the Wilds have endured much hardship and losses.

The magic of the Wilds is equally complex and varied-- each area is saturated in many different kinds, woven together and nigh inseparable, stronger in some areas, weaker in others, and even non-existent in some (you are not likely to find a thread of ice magic in a sweltering desert, for example). There is no one 'ruler' of the Wilds or even user of its magic because there is no one true 'Wild Magic'. The only way to harness a magic of the Wilds is to 'befriend' it, for lack of a better term.

All fae, in or out of a court, have magic they gravitate towards, and its these that they will find easier to identify and use. Things like the basic elements, or the sky, or time, or music are all examples of the categories of magic that can be utilised. It is nigh impossible to tame or bend the ambient magic to your will-- fae that use Wild magic need to be in tune with their specialisation and the 'spells' they cast are more requests than commands. A fae that attempts to force magic of a particular kind is more likely to have it backfire, or find the Wilds becoming more and more hostile to their presence. The Wilds are very much a living, complex being made up of many smaller 'consciousnesses', and to upset even a small piece of it will turn the whole against you.

Courts are formed when a particularly ancient or strong fae manages to distill a very specific type of magic and make a deal with it. The stronger the fae the more broad the category they can harness-- it would be the difference between forming a Seasonal Court and simply a Summer court, for example.

Millenia ago Nightmare and Dream's mother, Nimh, managed to form a pact with the Seasonal magic of the Wilds and secure large swathes of land for herself. Over many centuries fae from all over found safety and stability within her court and swore loyalty to her. It was over those many centuries that she built the foundations for what would eventually break apart into the four separated courts (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter).

Had Dream and Nightmare been stronger and more experienced when she died, the courts may have been able to stay together. But at the time of the falling out they simply did not have the affinities for all of her magic-- Dream was only capable of utilising the magics of Summer and Spring, and Nightmare was limited to Winter and Autumn. Their falling out and Nimh's death caused the magic holding the courts together to falter and shatter, causing the emotional divides between them to manifest into very real magical and physical divides between the courts.

[yandereunsolved]

could see yandere john if he had a sheriff darling purposely getting himself arrested just to see them/harass them, Jack too

I have so many thoughts on this.

Sheriff reader is always a lovely thought when it comes to rdr characters. And yes, like father―like son. It depends if we are talking high or low honor.

I'll do both. To please you all.

Yandere High Honor John would not want to be arrested. He is trying to change his ways. He needs to be better for his family. He isn't a religious man, but coveting another person while he is married is definitely a sin. He's already committed enough of those to last several each other.

So he chooses to help sherriff darling. He clears out the local gangs, buys them drinks, stalks them home and watches out for intruders, and even takes care of scum behind their back. Luring people to their deaths in the wilderness is just what friends do for eachother.

Sure. He dreams about what you feel like. He imagines marrying you too. He wants nothing more than to kidnap you and make you a farm spouse. But he won't. At least not yet. He's either gotta get Abigail on board or―keep you a secret. He really doesn't want to. He's tired of them. Secrets have gotten so many people he's loved killed.

Yandere Low Honor John gets arrested a lot. He's already considered a criminal but he can't be hung or jailed too long because he's working for the government. He's too old to care about 'future' consequences. His entire life has been dealing with future consequences.

He wants you. He wants you now.

And he doesn't have forever to wait. But he still loves to play games with you.

No matter your age he will still try and come off as the older, more dominant person in this weird relationship you have with him. But there's also no joke to his devotion. He will and has murdered people right in front of you for you before. And there's little you can do but lock him up for a few days and hope he'll stop.

He has no qualms about keeping you a secret from his family. He also cares about them somewhat less now that you are in his life. He feels like he is saving them out of obligation, not out of love.

Arthur's sacrifice still hits home for him. But why can't darling be part of the reason he never looks back? Abigail, Jack, and Uncle are the only reason his past is still haunting him. So would it be so bad if they died?

Yandere High Honor Jack is still somewhat the person his parents wanted him to be. He's a bounty hunter―a gunslinger, but not entirely at outlaw. He writes and he yearns. He knows he's too broken to be loved but still wishes for it.

So he gets arrested for more minor incidents. Although, he can't hold back from being violent towards people who are already being violent.

He is more respectful of you and your time. He offers to go on patrol with and or for you. He also hunts down escaped convicts.

Now he can't help but hate your job. You're part of the law who so ruthlessly murdered his pa. But it's like one of those romance books he snuck to read behind his ma's back. He'll help you see the error of your ways. Or kidnap you out of them. Whichever is easier.

He's also lessy mouthy, but still a perv. He just usually keeps those dirty thoughts to himself.

Yandere Low Honor Jack is nothing like the man his father and mother wanted him to be. He hates you so fucking much. And he has very few people to take his anger out on. So he takes it out on you.

He makes as much of a ruckus as he can. Chaos runs amok. And he does a damn good job of it. He's crafty. He knows how to evade you. And he spends most of his time doing just that.

He thinks it'll make you 'want him more' since you're chasing after him (quite literally). It makes his blood pump in more place than one. And who's to say he won't get handsy if he manages to knock you off your horse? Just a little kiss. Maybe more.

His favorite game is to try and mark you up before you can stop him. Whether that be from hickies or bruises you get from him attacking you.

Really the only time you can lock him up is when he's blackout drunk. And even then he manages to find ways to escape before you can hang him. It's just so hard to find good help these days. And you heavily suspect Jack is the one shooting (and brutually killing) the deputies you hire. So no one wants to work for you.

Sometimes he delays his escape from his cell just for fun. Teasing you, flirting, and or trying to bribe you―with not only money but also his body.

[lady-dragon-rider]

The Towers Lost Maiden Pt.4

Targaryen Fam x Hightower! Reader

With the Driftmark incident behind the Targaryen family, and tensions strained to their fullest. Reader must take drastic action to purge the rot that nips at their families heels. The threat of potential war being the consequence for failure.

Containing: both cannon divergence and cannon adherence (as necessary), protective dragons in all forms, daemon living for not being the family drama for once (for a little at least, some time skip, more sucession drama, death, blood and violence

Featuring: daeron mention (will make an appearance soon), Aemond being petty aka mild bullying offscreen (aemond milks Luce’s punishment)

Next part>

<<Previous Part

---

The next morning arrives without further incident. Now, you sit in a chair facing a weathered old maester, who sews the cut on your arm.

“You are fortunate your grace, the blade was Valyrian steel, so the cut was a clean one. It will scar, but it will heal well.”

“Thank you Maester Mordin” you mumble, wincing again as the he finishes the final stitch. Aemond and Aegon watch on silently. When Maester Mordin moves to Aemond to check on him, Aegon round the table from the other side, coming to grab your unwounded hand. The doors open and Aemma walks in quickly. Without a word she reaches you, delicately tracing the skin around the stiches.

“What is to be done with your sister?” She mutters cooly

“I will deal with it love, trust me. Ill be handling it shortly.” You speak quietly. You stand slowly. “Boys, go with your mother to breakfast, i will join you shortly.”

“But Mother-”

“Please dont argue my love. Ill be quick and then be right back at your sides.” You reassure, pressing your hands to your childrens cheeks. They both look like they want to say more to you, but they eventually leave the room with Aemma. She has her arms around them comfortingly as the door clicks behind them. You motion for the gaurd by the doors attention. “Bring my sister Alicent to me at once.”

---

“Sister-” Alicent gasps

“My decision is final.” You state coldly “it was like i didnt even know you last night. My sweet, wonderful sister, who likes reading and embroidery, attempting to attack A Child in the name of Justice? Vengeance? Against a Child? ” You sneer

“I admit it was not my finest moment. i acted in a moment of weakness… know i regret my actions. That my love for you and your children is what makes me so protective, you have always done so much for me… always shown restraint and wisdom… please, know this and forgive me.” Her voice cracks. For a split moment you can see her; that young girl from all those years ago, clinging to your skirts and crying during thunder storms… who came to you to read her stories before bed…. and the girl who came to you in the middle of the night because she didnt want to marry the king.

“This IS mercy” You murmur strongly “But… i may find it in my heart to give you leniency if you answer this question”

“Of course-”

“Were you the one to spread the rumors of Luce and Jace?”

Alicent stops mid answer. The air choked from her lungs. She looks at you with a shocked expression. Your eyes stare through hers with a cold stormy expression,

“If you cant answer that, then were you the one who told Aemond these lies?” Again, your question is met with silence, alicent looking away, the picking her nails indicating all you need. You heave a sigh, now knowing the truth.

“Then the decision still stands; you are to prepare yourself for the journey back to Oldtown. Ill arrange to have your posessions from your chamber sent there to meet you.”

“And if i said i did?” She interjects “that i did because their very existence is an insult to everything that you have gone through? Everything you sacrificed to save me? So that i wouldnt have to betray someone i thought a firend? That she uses your love for her to protect her from her misdeeds?”

“Then i would say that i didnt think you would be so vindictive and spiteful. That you, of all people, after all the lessons i tried to teach you, could be so short-sighted. Do you know the danger such slander holds for my children? That by putting such things to question you threaten their safety with the threat of civil war. Such that would burn everything away and leave everything i did for you naught.”

“How can you not see they arent true born?” She pleads “you cant be blind to the truth!”

“They are my grandsons. With Targaryen dragons to show their lineage” You affirm “the only thing i was ‘blind’ to was not seeing my sister straying from my side… who let darkness and lies into her heart. No doubt from the heartbreak of losing her friend and having no true comfort of her own. For that i am sorry… i never meant to leave you alone”

“(Name)…”

“You will go back home to Oldtown. You will speak no more on these fictitious rumors. And hopefully finding a suitable match and some time away will help soothe you.” You take Alicents hands gently, squeezing and rubbing her knuckles with you thumbs. You both smile sadly at each other. kissing her temple you mutter “please find happiness, this is all i wish for you. We will be with each other soon, i promise.”

You then motion for the guard to escort her back to her rooms, and head to the hall for breakfast.

---

“I still cant believe you talked to her. After all she did, you have a much better temperament that i your grace” Rheanyra sighs. You both watch as the dragons fly over head; back home to kings landing. “I wouldve had her head…”

“Nyra, darling you dont mean that…” you scold gently

“But i do!” She barks voice wavering. “She hurt you… she tired to hurt my son.” Her tone turns cold when she finishes her statement. Delicately, she rolls the sleeve to judge the wound. You can hear her harshly suck in a breath as she traces around the wound; like Aemma had done ealier. She speaks quietly in High Valyrian, with a scowl permeating her face.

“Fret not dear, she is on her way back to Old Town, and she wont be back unless i allow it.” You reassure. Rheanyra huffs childishly, and holds your hands tightly. “That matter is settled. Now, we will need to look to the future, i doubt itll be the last time we will need to discuss the boys succession… now that the seeds have been planted.” You grumble. You loved Alicent truly, but she sometimes made things so difficult. You both look out towards the sea again, the figures of dragons now a little smaller against the horizon.

---

You were right when you said it wouldnt be the last time youd need to discuss Driftmarks succession. You stand next to Aemma, who sits on the iron throne in place of Viserys, weary expressions on your faces as you listen to Vaemond drone on again; with yet another petition for driftmark, claiming Rheanyra’s children illegitimate and him the rightful successor. With Corlys on his rumoured death bed and with the death of Leanor, Vaemond had wasted no time in calling forth a meeting of the court.

As either side said their piece; Vaemond with his 'My blood is of true Velaryon descent’ and Rheanyra again stating that the matter had already been discussed at length years earlier, the silence with so deafening that you would be able to hear a pin drop.

“I would get a blade and show you princess but im afraid it would look unfamiliar to you.” He snarls.

“That is enough Lord Vaemond, this is the second attempt you have made to undermine your uncle Corlys’s verdict on Driftmarks succession. The only person here who would know his wishes most intimately would be the princess Rheanys.” Aemma states, the wrinkles around her eyes showcasing her tiredness at this debate. She, along with Viserys, had seemed to aged rapidly, almost as if the throne itself had finally succeeded in saping their strength. It was either that or the constant in-fighting between rambunctious relatives.

Rheanys steps forward and with little emotion on her face, cooly adresses the room. “It was ever my husbands wish to have Driftmark pass through his son Ser Leanor to his tureborn grandson Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him. The Princess Rheanyra has also informed me of her desire to wed her grandson Luce with Corlys’s granddaughter Rheana, a proposal in which i heartily agree.”

“Then the matter is settled… again. In my husbands name, i affirm that Lucerys Velaryon remains heir of driftmark, heir to the driftwood throne and the next lord of the tides.” Aemma sighs with a furrowing brow. Just as your about to assist the queen regent, you hear Vaemond scoff.

“You break law and centuries of tradtion naming your daughter as heir… and you dare tell me who gets to inherit the name Velaryon… No. I will not allow it” he grunts

“Allow it? You foget yourself” you scowl “Last time i checked Lord Vaemond, the Kings word IS law. And, by the word of King Jaehaerys himself, the princess Rheanyra’s right to the throne is protected by the widowers law. Or have you and the rest of the realm forgotten that piece of history? Along with bowing to her nearly 20 years ago.” You make no attempt to hide the bite in your tone, your eyes flaring in a protective rage. Out the corner of your eye you can see Aemma and Rheanyra smirk at your display. Aemma out of pride, and Rheanyra from vindication of your backing.

Vaemond chews his lips and with a clench fist, directs his anger to Luce again. “THAT! Is no true Velaryon… i will not see my line end at the hands of this…”

“Say it.” You hear Daemon whisper.

Please dont say it Vaemond. Dont do it

“Her children are BASTARDS… and she is… a whore” he finishes, his voice booming.

You pull out the knife on your hip, a gift from Rheanyra (and allegedly Daemon too) after the Driftmark incident. With a face of thunder, you begin the descent down the stairs.

“You will lose your tongue for those slanders.” You hiss.

Before you can get to him however his head swiftly meets the floor; his body falling neatly at your feet near the bottom of the stairs. Behind him stands Daemon, who wipes the blood from his sword.

“He can keep his tongue.” The look he gives you just as he turns to walk back to your step-daughters side, is one you cant quite read. Somewhere between a begrudging respect at your stepping in and a 'i protect this family… not you.’

Well that hopefully means he no longer hates you. Its a step. You guess. Sheathing the blade you glide back up the stairs to help Aemma. She is a bit shaky going down, your son Aegon is quick to grab her other side. Aemond stands vigil behind Helaena, his remaining eye alert and never straying to far from Daemon’s posistion. He guides the both of them to your side and you all make your way out of the hall. When you reach the Queens chamber, you help Aemma into a chair and then sit down yourself. Amid the silence you begin to writing your letters to your sister, brother and your son.

In you letter to Daeron you mention that he should most definitely come and visit, as 'the best part of being a prince with a dragon is that he need not seek permission in order to see family. He can simply do so as he wishes. And that if he ever wished to come and then stay, her could do that too.’

Writing to Gwayne was a joy to you. You enjoyed reading of the joyous moments he had with Daeron. If your song wasnt telling you directly through letters, then it would be read through his uncles boasting. You subtly write to him that your worried about Alicent, and to make sure she is being treated well.

Alicents letter… is a bit more vague. You try to overlook your nerves over what she has been getting up to as you keep her 'updated’ with the barest of details. You get the sense she may not fully realise the extent of the distance between through your writings, as she still writes so animatedly about the goings on in OldTown, even going so far as to ask for a visit. Its your hope you can keep it that way though you are mostly thankful that she seems a tad happier out of the suffocating air of Kingslanding. The thought of a visit sounds wonderful… but with the teetering health of your partners you find it hard to think of stepping away… the shadows that nip at the edges of court being ever fickle.

“Why the long face my love?” You hear the quiet voice of Aemma say “more letters from that infernal sister of yours?”

“Dearest please… but yes, she writes asking for a visit… saying she misses our time togther. The thought of visiting home would be wonderful… if things here didnt threaten to fall apart in my absence. Besides, i couldnt leave either of you to the jaws of that court and council.” You explain wearily. A touch of the hand stirs you from you spiral. Your wife smiles knowingly.

---

“Some letters have arrived your grace.” A messager announces as they hand you several neatly rolled scrolls of parchment. Responses from Alicent, Gwayne and Daeron. All of them hold the typical pleasantries, though your sons letter informs that he shall be returning home for a short time, wishing to see his siblings and mothers. You smile and go about your day, telling all who need to know of his return.

Later in the council chamber you sit in the position to Viserys left, opposite you is Rheanyra. You both eye each other tiredly as the lords try to make subtle attempts to weasel more power for themselves. Just as the meeting is to be concluded, Rheanyra coughs and call herself to attention. “I wish to say something quickly before we conclude”

Viserys grunts and nods tiredly “remain seated everyone.”

Rheanyra clears her throat before looking at you directly. “In light of recent discourse within our family… i would like to apologise for the roles mine played in it. And for the harm that has befallen the wounded parties…” you can see the way she spares a glance down at your arm; where the scar, now beginning to fade slightly, lay hidden beneath the sleeve. “i know no amount of apologies can fix it… but i wish to try and mend the rift between us once and for all. Jacerys will inherit the throne after me, i propose a marriage between him and your daughter Helaena. With it i hope we can finally, firmly unite our two sides for the times ahead.”

You nod and smile. “I think that is a wonderful idea. What say you dear?” You turn to Viserys, he smiles and nods in agreement. He takes your hand and Rheanyra’s as firmly as he can manage.

“A wonderful idea indeed, daughter.” He calls the meeting to an end and some maids help him stagger out of the chamber and back to his rooms. You round the table and subtly place your shawl over Rheanyra’s shoulders. She looks at you in confusion before you whisper quietly in her ear of the issue. She flushes a little but thanks you for the discretion. You both walk the halls arm in arm as you go to the Queen’s chambers for lunch. Where you mention to both that your son Daeron is on his way up for a visit.

---

“Mother you cant be serious!” Aegon gasps. Aemond too looks both shocked and mildly betrayed at the news.

“I am. You father has also approved so there is not going back on it.” You say firmly “from memory aegon i remember you saying 'so long as i dont have to marry her, she is weird’ when i brought up Helaena’s marriage prospects. I didnt realise you held such an interest now”

“I dont” he huffs, arms folded “she IS weird, but as fate would have it she is MY weird sister. And im not particularly fond of the idea of handing her off to Jace” he explains

“I thought you liked him, you were both quite close, with Luce as well. Close enough to tease one another and have fun in the training yard.”

“That was before driftmark” he snarks, eyes dark with rage. The room falls deadly silent.

“Is that because i got hurt? Or because Aemond did?” Aegon makes no move to reply, but you can see the way his fists clench and he fails to meet your eyes. You sigh and motion for both of your sons to come closer.

“I know this might seem like im rewarding them and punishing you. But im not, i promise. I want our family whole, if either of you sat in councils with me and your father you would see plainly how some of these lords try to rangle the reigns from our grasp because of the illness that renders the king; and therefore the crown, weak. Ive done my best to keep everything stable until your sister, the heir i remind you, can take the throne. In order for that to happen this family MUST remain as whole as it can be. I dont like the idea of pushing Helaena into a political marriage, but Jace will take his role seriously and will look after her, this much i know for fact.”

“I still dont like it” aegon pouts, his eyes distant as he stares into the fireplace

“I dont often agree with him mother… but i dont like it either. You have always been wise and made good decisions for the good of others and the realm… but i cant see it in this.” Aemond agrees

You squeeze their hands and stand to match their heights. “I understand you might not like it because you still hold some resentment in you for you eye my love, but Luce faithfully served his punishment to you… and if rumors are to be believed, and not all are, i have heard tell that you may have been a bit cruel to him during that period.” Aemond doesnt meet you eye with his. “They are your nephews. For all their faults and for all of yours, we are family. And when it comes to family we do our best to look out for and support one another. We can agree on this at least right?”

They both nod. You send them off with kisses and tell them that their younger brother will be here soon for a visit. That seems to brighten them a little when they leave your rooms for the night. you try and settle for the night but find the yourself unable to. You leave your chambers to cross the hall, feeling incredibly childish as you slip into Aemma’s chamber. She doesnt stir much as you gently lift the covers, and pull yourself in. Though she does turn over and in her dreamy-sleep filled state moves over to hold your arm. It eases you a tad, but the faint heaviness still sits in your gut as you both eagerly and anxiously wait to see how things unfold.

---

Taglist @your-favorite-god @juliette2

[milashaluna]

Rin Itoshi is like your husband

🫐 Rin hates fighting more than anything else in the world. For him, any conflict in your family is tantamount to a lack of understanding, which you can only come to after many years of living together. It's actually damn hard for him to express his emotions and sometimes, there's no way to see behind the cold facade of what he's really feeling and you're hurt the most. It's better to just shut down again, to create distance between you, than to openly express your feelings. It will take time for him to learn to build a dialogue instead of running away from the problem, and for you to understand that there is something more behind his aloof appearance.

🫐 Because of his unstable self-esteem, he needs to be constantly reminded that you love and need him. Yeah, that's tough. Especially considering the fact that he'll never ask for it out loud. But, over time, you've learnt to notice the peculiar "bells" that actually just shout out how much Rin needs confirmation of your feelings. He becomes more intrusive and follows you around in a dark shadow. The privilege of the angry dog is your husband, who is two heads taller than you and scares away everyone around him because right now he needs all your attention.

🫐 Sometimes his jealousy goes over the edge, making you feel like you're trapped in a golden cage with no way to escape. In fact, he has no idea how to deal with it, and the best course of action seems to be to limit your contact with anyone who arouses suspicion, even if it ends up in another scandal. To herself, Rin calls it a black streak and if it's not stopped in time, it can indeed lead to frightening consequences.

🫐 Itoshi doesn't mind open displays of affection at all. He likes to hold your hand during a press conference or after a special successful match, to kiss you in front of all the fans. One way or another, his gaze in the crowd always seeks your eyes. It brings him calm and reassurance that everything is all right, and the stony expression on his face instantly cracks as soon as your fingers carefully remove a few strands of hair that have fallen into his face.

🫐At some point, his venomous jealousy comes out in the fact that during intimacy, Rin takes great care to leave his "marks" on the most visible parts of his skin: his neck, collarbones, wrists-all covered with his hickeys and bite marks. A silent reminder of who you belong to.

🫐 The first few years he had trouble remembering actual important dates, like your wedding anniversary or even your birthday. This caused mixed emotions. At first resentment and you cried a lot, taking his absent-mindedness personally, swearing and getting angry until you came to realise: it's just part of your husband's character. In fact, Rin's head is constantly cluttered with information, among which many things get lost. But in order not to upset you any more, Itoshi has figured out to mark his calendar on his phone, so that a fresh bouquet of flowers will be waiting for you on the anniversary of your first kiss.

Please write in the comments if you got better, and should I keep writing? I'm not English and I don't speak good English, so please don't criticise if there are mistakes in there.

[gaunt-and-hungry]

Let's eat god.

[townofcrosshollow]

Sorry I'm talking about Minecraft shit again but like...

The thing that makes the Iskall situation so sad to me, even moreso after this new info, is that it literally did not need to be this big of a deal. The allegations were not life or even career ending stuff. Don't get me wrong, the dude's a gross sex creep, but he didn't commit any crimes and people have been forgiven for worse. He also clearly knew about the allegations well in advance of any of the other Hermits finding out.

It would have been very easy for him to get out of this situation. There are so many different ways he could have gotten out of this situation.

Reach out to the people affected privately, apologize, and agree to come to a conclusion about the situation privately! They don't have to even forgive him to agree to just not talk publicly about it.

Discuss the allegations well ahead of time with the other Hermits and come to a conclusion about how to proceed! They would have been more than capable of handling it as a group. Other Hermits could have reached out to moderate with the people making the allegations, and they could have helped him make an apology video to explain the situation and do damage control. Hell, it sounds like they were already gearing up to do this when he resigned.

Quietly resign and keep working on Vault Hunters! He wasn't even active on Hermitcraft when this happened. Apologize and work it out with the people he hurt, explain the situation to the VH community, and just keep doing his thing with a lower profile.

But all of those solutions would require a fucking iota of shame, a tiny little inkling in his brain that maybe the stuff he did was bad, and the personal moral character to say "my bad, I fucked up." And this whole video whining about being cancelled just shows that he absolutely does not have that moral character in the slightest. He does not have the self awareness or emotional maturity to say "Hey, I did something shitty that hurt people's feelings" and take responsibility for that fact. Not only has he not apologized for being a creep in the past, he genuinely thinks everything he did was fine and he will absolutely continue to be a creep in the future.

So what could have been a very minor drama, another "Wow, Hermitcraft handled that controversy really well!" moment, turned into him torpedoing his own career and causing awful stress and pain to everyone involved for no fucking reason. Congratulations everybody, we did it.

[yappacadaver]

Crazy wild shit man