#WHICH IS THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN TO ME

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 8 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: How beautiful your life could be, if only you weren't so damaged and he wasn't so deranged. And despite all that, you can't help but want him and submit to his twisted desires. You also can't help but think something about him is more off than usual.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation kink, mouth-spitting, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

You felt a tight knot form in your stomach as you stared down at the blister in front of you.

Of course you knew it was necessary. You couldn’t imagine a more irresponsible thing than to conceive a child of a psychopath like him. And yet, you felt your thoughts wander down a dangerous path again.

He had never explicitly said he wanted you to take them. It was almost like a part of him was keen on getting you pregnant. Like the mere thought of filling you up again and again and again, serving the purpose of knocking you up, turned him on even more. And still, he bought them for you and left them on the kitchen table. It was your decision, you suddenly realized.

How irresponsible of him.

Didn’t he understand you were hardly able to even take care of yourself? Let alone a child.

Let alone birth a child.

There was actually nothing that scared you more. Not your mother, not him, not even the prospect of being sold off into some sick psychopaths’ fangs. Another psychopaths’.

No, the thought of having to bear a child, dying during the delivery or – God forbid, something going wrong and you losing it – was your worst fear.

You didn’t even know where the fear came from. It had simply always been there, even when you were a child.

Even when you thought you’d never have sex.

And now you had had sex. And he bought the pill, because he was considerate like that.

He was twisted and cruel, scary and sadistic and yet he put on this façade, this front, of a perfect man, whenever he wanted to. He paid bills and he owned this beautiful apartment. He was obviously well-read and he knew how to cook. He wasn’t a rapist. A murderer, yes. But not a rapist.

He was many things. One of them was always far more prominent than the others.

He was sick.

You couldn’t tell if he had been born like this or if there were things that happened which made him turn out the way he did. Whatever it was, he was sick now.

So far, you only had a hunch of the things he truly enjoyed. He had briefly mentioned some of them. Others you had guessed. The erection he got whenever he beat you was enough for you to realize he liked to hurt people.

He threatened you with words and objects more than once. A knife, a gun, a belt, a whip.

So far, so good, right? Many people were into pain, either receiving or delivering.

He was also into blood. For some reason, you could tell.

He enjoyed degrading you. Calling you names whenever he got angry, making you crawl around like a dog and drink from a bowl on the floor.

So far, he had always taken care of his insanity on his own. Treated the bulge in his pants with silence, ignoring it skillfully like it wasn’t there. But you saw it, felt its’ presence like a specter.

The one time you had sex had been nothing like you expected. The gentleness in his touch, his kisses on your neck and body and God, the sinful things he did with his tongue.

You remembered the feeling vividly and it immediately sent a shiver through your body. You took a soft breath and tried to focus back on the pill, but somehow your mind didn’t comply. You kept asking yourself, if you had somehow signed a death warrant when you agreed to be his girl.

You did it to survive, surely, but you slowly felt your resolve crumble. There was more to it, you acknowledged it. But you didn’t allow yourself to think about the things you felt, while you had sex. You blamed his gentle touch. His ardent kiss. The way he subtly threatened all the people who had ever wronged you.

You closed your eyes. God, what was going on in your head?

All you needed was a breath of fresh air to clear out your head.

Would you ever breathe real air again?

You wanted a family one day, didn’t you?

Now you couldn’t tell if you would ever get that. Looking back, it hadn’t been all too sure before he abducted you either. After all, all you ever did was hide yourself behind computer screens and book pages. But now you were here and he had taken that chance from you.

Or had he?

Would he ever let you go?

No. You remembered his words like the lyrics of a song you hated, yet it kept playing on the radio day and night.

I’ll never let you go.

And for some reason, you knew he didn’t just say that. He meant it. And you remembered what you thought when you first came here.

You wouldn’t ever leave this place. At least not alive.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the front door open. Your head perked up and before he had the chance to enter the kitchen, you choked down the plan-b-pill with half a glass of water. You swallowed and stared down at the empty blister with wide eyes.

You had to play along, yes. But you couldn’t give him some foolish, twisted hope for something that just wasn’t an option.

The kitchen door opened and he came inside, his briefcase still in his hand. He looked down at you, taking in your flushed expression and his gaze wandered down to the empty blister. A faint hint of recognition flashed over his handsome features, followed by something you were sure was disappointment. But he schooled his expression so quickly, it immediately reminded you of the instability of his mind.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled at you. You couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind the smile. It most likely wasn’t genuine. When had it ever been?

“Darling”, he said in a soft tone. Then he did something that made your chest ache. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt like throwing up. You were sure you were stuck in some kind of cruel video game, a sick simulation of yet another psychopath who enjoyed torturing poor, deranged girls. Girls who never had a chance anyway.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to smile back, but it was indeed a failed attempt.

Things were somewhat less tense between you, since you had sex. Sometimes he let you speak your mind without hurting you in return. And sometimes, like that day, he came home and kissed you. Like you were a normal couple.

Like you were a couple at all.

It was painful. Because, no matter how hard you tried to shut the dangerous thoughts out, they always snuck their way back into your head.

He would have made the perfect man, if only he was normal.

If only he was human.

And if only you were, too.

He turned away from you and set the briefcase down on a chair, before he washed his hands. You couldn’t help but stare. It looked so normal, almost innocent.

A man who came home and the first thing he did was to wash his hands.

A man to fall in love with.

You forced your gaze away.

“Did you eat anything today?” He asked matter-of-factly, without even looking at you.

You still nodded. “There were a few of these things left. You know, the ones that look like sushi, but aren’t.”

“Gimbap.”

“Gimbap.” You repeated and he smirked.

He dried his hands and turned to look at you. “That’s all you ate today?”

You shrugged and he sighed. “How did you even survive up until now?”

You thought about it. Breakfast was easy. Back in England even. But lunch was where it got hard. You either ate leftovers or nothing. It was like you were unable to cook if it was for you only.

As if you were unable to exist properly when you were alone.

It made you realize how empty your days were whenever he left. You spent most of your time waiting for him, reading or crying and brooding over the horror that was your life.

But even before that, even before him, you had barely functioned on your own.

It was like your depression got worse, the longer you were alone.

It didn’t matter that your mother was the devil in human form, at least you ate when she was around.

Whenever she’d let you.

At some point in your life, you learned to really appreciate food, especially when it was homecooked. You weren’t good at this. You didn’t doubt that you could cook and all that, you just didn’t know how to really live.

A part of you appreciated the numbness even more for that exact reason. Your sadness was your solace, your darkness your shelter.

You didn’t need to worry about existing, when you weren’t really there. It was just a body trying to keep itself alive, while your soul floated around in non-existence.

A small frown formed on his face and he stepped closer, resting his hands on your shoulders. You had almost grown accustomed to his touch by now.

You could tell when to expect a blow and when not.

In most cases.

Was now the time?

“Go, take a bath.” He purred in your ear. “I’ll make dinner.”

You closed your eyes and suddenly you were all too aware again. The thought you had so skillfully avoided since that night.

Today was the day.

The night, actually.

And he’d finally get to have his way with you.

The thought equally sent a warm shiver as well as cold sweat spiraling down your skin.

“Alright.” You murmured and got up. You exhaled a soft sigh and before you left turned back to face him once more. He was still looking at you, the soft, seductive smile on his lips. But his eyes were narrowed in a way that told you there was indeed more on his mind than he let on.

You forced yourself to look away and leave the room. Within a few minutes, you prepared yourself a bath and with a soft sigh sank into the warm water. It felt like a gentle embrace, which was so very needed after everything you went through every day.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and try to relax for once.

He had kindly repaired the door and put it back in its place to give you a semblance of privacy, but he didn’t restore the lock.

You didn’t get the privilege of ultimate privacy.

You kept your eyes closed as you tried to imagine what tonight would bring.

Mostly, you dreaded it.

He’d be cruel.

He’d be selfish.

You’d wake up the next morning, feeling battered and bruised.

So not much different from how it had been so far. Except for that one night. But as much as you loved to think back at it and revel in the memory, you knew it would be more clever to try and erase it from your mind.

That had never happened.

He had never kissed your neck or the inside of your thighs.

He had never called you princess.

Never taken your virginity with such gentleness and care.

Your brows furrowed and you felt your hand itch to move down your body, when you heard the faint knock on the bathroom door. Your eyes shot open and your first reaction was to cover yourself.

What a ridiculous thought, but you still fumbled for a towel. When he came in and witnessed that, you all wet and reaching for a towel you would never reach in time, he raised a brow and smirked. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves again in that way that made you weak.

When you finally realized you wouldn’t reach the towel without breaking your neck, you instead delved back down into the water, keeping your gaze on him.

“You’re still shy around me. How cute.”

You attempted to shoot him a glare, but that worked about as good as your smile did earlier.

“Did you want something?”

He hummed and slowly inched closer, as he let his gaze shamelessly rake over your body in a way that made you feel hot and cold all the same.

“Actually, yes.” He purred as he slowly leaned down to get a better look at your wet, shivering form. The warm water didn’t prevent him from staring at you and it didn’t prevent you from feeling exposed and excited under his gaze.

“You looked so miserable earlier. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

You immediately frowned. That was hardly the reason. As gentle as he happened to be sometimes, he wasn’t caring or soft like that. Or even genuine.

He was cold and cruel and psychotic.

“I’m-“

Your words died on your tongue when suddenly he slid his hand under the water surface. It didn’t take him two seconds to force your legs apart and slide his fingers over your already slick core.

You inhaled sharply and your brows furrowed in a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and arousal. You looked up at him with half-lidded, confused eyes.

“I thought…after dinner”, was all you managed to gasp out.

He hummed in response. No muscle on his face moved as he slowly slid his index finger inside you, curling it torturously.

“Oh God.”

It didn’t take him longer than a few seconds to have you writhe and moan. You had quickly noticed that he was good at what he was doing. He knew where to touch you, how to move his fingers and when to use his tongue instead. He knew exactly how to roll his hips. When to be rough and when gentle.

The thought filled you with as much relief as it filled you with jealousy.

There had been others before. That was all you could think about.

It wasn’t the fact that he barged into the bathroom and took control of your body whenever he pleased, that bothered you. It was the thought that he might have done this to someone else before he met you.

And the thought made you feel nauseous with jealousy.

You almost wanted to be angry at him, for being able to, for having the audacity to have had someone else before you.

While he was the only one who ever took you.

The only one who ever parted your lips with his tongue.

The only one who had ever felt you around him, envelop him and take him in like he belonged there.

You wanted to stay angry, but his fingers did things to you that clouded your mind. Your eyes rolled back and you were nearly there.

“Please-“

But the next moment, you let out a desperate whine, when you felt him swiftly withdraw his hand.

“Please…”

He smirked.

“Please what, sweet girl?”

Your face flushed furiously and you looked down at the bath water.

The spell was intact again. And you were unable to speak your wicked mind.

“Look at me.” He said in a rather firm tone. You immediately did. His eyes were a mixture of curiosity and wariness. He narrowed them slightly.

“Say it.”

You wanted to bite your lip and avert your gaze, but the way he stared down at you with such an intensity made you reconsider.

“Please let me cum.” You whispered in a voice that was hardly your own.

He hummed. He was obviously pleased and the smirk was back.

“Please let you cum, what?”

Since he didn’t have a name, he made you choose between Daddy and Sir, whenever one felt like it made any sense in the situation.

Daddy was far more embarrassing, but also more intimate.

Calling him Sir felt more degrading though. Which was something he probably liked.

You didn’t know which one was worse, so you always went for the one that fit the aesthetic of the moment best.

“Please let me cum, daddy.” You whispered, your face red.

He chuckled. A horrible sound.

A beautiful sound.

“Good girl.”

He slid his hand back down and instantly you felt his finger back inside you, before he slowly added a second one. It was enough to let you release a soft sigh and lean your head against the edge of the tub.

It was so easy to relax when he had you like this.

You could always count on him to make you cum.

And that was exactly what he did. He moved his fingers inside you in such a pleasurable and skilled way, that he had you writhing and begging within a few more seconds. An explosive wave of warmth and bliss filled you, while you arched your hips up against his hand, desperately seeking the friction and the release that only he could give to you.

You had never felt anything close to this before.

Once you slowly came down from your high, you took a moment to regain your ability to breathe and then you slowly opened your eyes.

You looked up at him and the way he smirked down at you with such smugness. It made you want to punch and kiss him.

“Thank me.” He whispered.

You swallowed. It was always far more embarrassing afterwards. “Thank you for making me cum, daddy.”

He bared his teeth in a grin. “Good girl. Now, open your mouth for me.”

You didn’t even have the time to digest his words, when you already felt him push his fingers in your mouth. A soft gasp came over your lips as he parted them and rubbed his fingers over your tongue, making you taste yourself on him.

Were you supposed to be embarrassed or repulsed? Probably. But all you truly felt was how the arousal slowly began to build again. The heat pooled between your legs whenever he got like this. Demanding, rough, but also gracious enough to let you cum.

You moaned when he pushed his fingers deeper in, all the while he had his eyes fixed on your face. His lips were slightly parted and there was a thoughtful frown on his face, as he began to fuck your mouth with his fingers, making saliva drip down your chin.

You choked back the gag that threatened to escape and forced yourself to keep looking at him, despite the way your eyes watered and slowly got more and more red.

“Come out.” He whispered. “Come out of the tub. On your knees.”

You withdrew your mouth from his hand, only to hold onto his arm and get up in a hurry, not caring that you got everything wet.

It was what he did to you all the time, anyway.

You knelt down on the cold bathroom floor, ignoring the ache between your legs. Had you just released? You couldn’t tell. You already felt desperate for him again.

He made you do this every so often, kneel and look up at him like an obedient little doll. Suck on his fingers and look into his eyes.

But he’d never gone further than that. Until now. You could tell. Now was different.

And it made you as nervous, as it turned you on.

“Take my belt off.” He whispered.

You forced your gaze away from his face just long enough to slowly unbuckle his belt. Your fingers were shaking against the leather. The nervousness won.

When you kept fidgeting with it restlessly, he gently stopped you and pushed your hands down and instead, did it himself. He got rid of the belt within seconds and it landed on the ground with a soft click. His slacks followed in a swift movement, until all there was left separating you was the thin material of his boxers.

His hardness strained against them and you found yourself aching to free him of them.

You had never known you were so terribly wicked.

And you were sure you hadn’t been, until you met him.

You hadn’t had any form of sex aside from the way he sometimes teased you and fingered you to oblivion ever since that night. He wanted to give you some time to adjust to your new role as his girl.

His princess. His fucktoy.

And now here you were. On your knees, wet as hell and desperate to feel him.

The memory of that night shot back into your head and it made you ache again. You remembered how you had expected him to send you back to your room. To just be finished with you and get rid of you like you were nothing more than a toy he’d use whenever he felt like it.

But instead he let you stay. You had spent the night curled up against his side, feeling his heart beat next to yours.

He was so terribly confusing.

Of course you didn’t find any sleep that night. And he probably didn’t either. You were unable to fully trust him, despite your gentle and considerate encounter. And he was probably unsure if he had broken you enough to not try and slit his throat in the middle of the night.

Maybe he’d trust you fully one day.

You liked to think that.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. “Kiss me.”

You licked your lips in a desperate attempt to fight the dryness of your mouth, but nothing worked. So instead you took a shaky breath and slowly leaned in. You brushed your lips over the waistband of his boxers and slowly, so very slowly, moved them further down. By the time they reached his arousal, you felt him breathe out a moan.

“Take them off.” He murmured. “And I don’t want to see your hands for the time being.”

You could imagine what that meant. With a shaky breath, you slowly brought your hands behind your back and dug your nails into your wrists.

Oh God, he would ravage you.

And oh God, you wanted him to.

You bit down on the material and tried to carefully pull the boxers down. It took you two more attempts, but eventually you managed to pull them down to his knees and then they slid off of him on their own. You pulled your head back and were greeted by the sight of his hardened cock, throbbing and waiting to ruin you even more.

Your heart skipped a beat and your chest heaved rapidly under the weight of your nervous breaths. You licked your lips again. This time, they weren’t dry.

You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide and nervous.

He didn’t mock or tease you this time. He seemed more focused and stern than ever before.

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair and gently curl up in it.

“Worship me.”

The words were enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips.

“I’m not sure, how.” You murmured.

He shook his head. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swallowed again and nodded before you slowly let your gaze wander down again.

Even his cock was perfect.

You took a deep breath and leaned in. The moment you brushed your lips over the tip, he exhaled a soft moan. You closed your eyes.

Fucking hell.

You slowly moved your lips down his length and back up again, unsure how to start and where.

The feeling of him on your lips was enough to drive you insane and you caught yourself wanting more. You were nervous, but also eager.

You wanted to watch him throw his head back in pleasure and call out your…well, however he would call you.

When he got a little impatient, he bucked his hips and you felt him press forward and slowly part your lips on his own. A moan came over your lips when you felt him slowly press further and further forward, until he bumped against the warm wetness of your tongue.

“Ah, yes.”

The sounds he made were enough to motivate you further. You opened your mouth wider and coated him in your saliva, feeling him go slick and throb against your tongue. His hand in your hair tightened and he pulled you closer against him.

You hummed against him and slowly wrapped your lips around him, sucking gently and moving up and down like you’d seen in countless videos.

His grip only ever got tighter and God, the sounds he made.

You tried to glance up at him as he moved. The reaction to your touch was written on his face. He bit down on his lip and stared down at you with a focused frown.

You felt so dirty and sinful, naughty and wicked and every time he bucked his hips up, you were sure you felt yourself get close without even being touched.

“Good girl.” He breathed out. “My good girl. My dirty girl. Let me fuck your pretty mouth.”

His hand tightened even more in your hair, until his grip was bordering on painful. He held your head in place as he began to move his hips, thrusting against your mouth like a madman. You found yourself in a chokehold, gagging against him and desperately gasping for air. All the while you were sure you felt your own arousal slowly drip down your thighs. You had a hard time keeping your hands behind your back.

All you wanted was to touch yourself. But you knew better than to try that.

He roughly pulled your head back by your hair and you had to suppress a wince of pain. You were about to ask what the hell was going on, when he gritted out: “Open your mouth.”

You immediately obeyed, parting your swollen, aching lips for him. You knew what was coming, you knew he would degrade you and you didn’t mind.

You would probably hate yourself afterwards, like you normally did when you fantasized about such things. But in that moment, you didn’t care the least bit. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to make him cum. You wanted to please him.

You opened your mouth and just a second later you felt his saliva slide past your lips, gliding down your tongue. An involuntary moan came over your lips and your brows furrowed as you stared up at him, feeling a myriad of emotions.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

Your mouth fell shut and you obeyed. You swallowed his spit like a good girl.

His good girl.

His girl.

The sound he made was torturous. A moan mixed with a sigh.

“Yes, just like that.” He murmured. “Fuck, yes. Suck me off, baby. Make me cum.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You parted your lips and took him back in. He kept bucking his hips against you, but you were determined to meet him halfway.

Fighting against the gagging and the small scare you got whenever you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you kept moving. Again and again, flicking your tongue against him and moaning against him, until you felt him tense up. His grip on your hair became so hard, it felt like he was trying to rip your hair out. All the while his painfully hard cock throbbed against your tongue.

And then he came.

You felt him coat your mouth and throat with his seed, causing you to moan at the intensity and surprise of it.

He was shaking and grunting in pleasure, keeping himself pressed against you as tight as possible, until the throbbing began to subside slowly.

He licked his lips, since his own mouth seemed to be pretty dry by now and finally released his tight grip on your hair. Instead he soothingly rubbed his fingertips along your scalp and sighed deeply.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “Show me your mouth.”

It took you a moment, but you swallowed the evidence of his lustful outburst and eventually opened your mouth to show him it was empty.

He hummed in approval and gently cupped your cheek in his hand. You found yourself leaning into his touch like a cat craving attention.

“My good girl.” He praised in a soft whisper. “God, you’re so good for me. I-“

He frowned deeply and stopped himself. You quickly looked up at him.

Oh God, you had done something wrong.

Oh, no, no, no, not right now, damn it.

But the dreaded yell never came and he also didn’t attempt to push you back or slap you. Instead he cleared his throat and gently pulled you back up to your feet.

“You enjoy being my girl, don’t you?”

You stared at him speachlessly. What were you supposed to say to that? And why was he asking that right now?

Despite the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts you had, you found yourself nodding.

“Good.” He said quietly and gently caressed your cheek.

Something was off. Something was always off, but now, you were sure you had no connection to his thoughts whatsoever. You could never really tell what he was thinking, but sometimes you got lucky and got a glimpse of whatever it was he hid behind nonchalance and psychopathy.

Or was that truly all that there was to him?

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Come. We have a bath to finish.”

He got rid of his shirt and within seconds submerged under the water. You watched him with a thoughtful expression, before you quietly followed him. You sat with your back pressed against his chest.

He would say something cruel.

He couldn’t be gentle, without having a cruel jab follow. He just couldn’t.

But all you felt was how he slowly poured some warm water over your hair, before he gently massaged the shampoo into your scalp.

The same scalp he had just bruised while he used you like a doll.

He washed the water out and it felt like a piece of Heaven. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and lean back against him.

If only every moment of your life could be like this.

“I never knew you could be so wicked.” He whispered as he began to gently massage your shoulders. You sighed at the touch. Another thing he was so skilled at.

Another thing to get jealous over.

His words made your face flush and you suddenly remembered how you had writhed in agony while he used your mouth, how your fingers had ached to touch yourself.

“I…”

“I like that side of you.” He murmured without taking his hands off you. “When you let go, I mean. I can tell you’re enjoying it. You’re just too ashamed to think about it.”

When you didn’t respond, he leaned closer and his breath tickled your ear when he whispered.

He was indeed the devil.

Beautiful, dangerous and manipulative.

“Don’t worry, my sweet girl. I’ll make you overcome that, too.”

_____________________________________________________

Tag list: @mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q @whitefeathers @ennvfv @heartzxx @yourpointbreak @hell0kittt @salesmanlover08 @pascalislove @nina357 @ing9449myu @vamplivivi @tvbais @ilovenana00 @misswannadiesworld @glads-stuff @chunkzdeluluwife @estreiiuh @lokis-lovely-muse @zaimeskuna @lalalaa2210 @i-might-be-vanny @cupidzslvt @k1rapark3r @vyladsgirl @jayyourbabe @yeaiamme2 @babyscilence @abcde-12345dorito @madzpm @o9sessions @dilfismz @idenack @sunburngal @prettysatoru @newtscreatures347269 @4j4ax @yru3xme @rafecamsgirlll @recordofragnarokfan2 @hayakamis-blog @kttb @fictionalmen-dilflover @puddingknows

If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

I freaking love you all!

[itstheghostofmypast]

🔥Overwhelmed🔥

Corporate AU Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: No one could stop swiper when his queen was overwhelmed.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.1 K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I'd like to thank @edenesth for this picture- and dedicate this to her - my corporate queen.

Overwhelmed

That was one way to describe how you were feeling right now, from the way your admin had dumped everything on your department to the way clients were ringing your phone like you owed them money- incorrect, you had nothing to do with anything that had happened. The missing records, unfilled forms, lack of digitisation of pre existing documents, somehow ended up being given to you- sure, you knew with great power came an even greater responsibility, but being team leader did not mean you were willing to become a punching bag of your superiors.

To top it all off during your break an idiotic colleague from the IT department had decided to come at you for something, yelling at you, ruining your gaming session- the 30-40 minutes of peace you'd have during work- and in the end it turned out to be not your desktop that had an issue, the virus was in the lady in the cubicle next to yours. During that drama, you had been reported and banned from the game for 24 hours. It was wonderful, it was just wonderful. What were you going to do on your drive back home now?

The worst thing of all was that you were unable to see the only person who'd make your day bearable, the only person who'd wake you up gently every morning, with a soft damp tissue gently pressing against your closed lids, then his warm lips against your own before he'd whisper sweetly in your ear, “Time to dominate the day, my queen.” The same person who'd have your breakfast waiting for you as soon as you'd rush out of the room all dressed, forcing you to sit down and eat with him, sometimes feeding you if you'd try to say you were in a rush. The only person who would spend the night with you, choosing your clothes, shoes and accessories, ensuring to match his tie and socks with your clothes, “Pink shirt huh…welp, pinks socks it is.”- yes, he had worn pink socks and a pink tie, which most men at work found funny, but most women at work found it adorable.

Hence, now, you were sitting in your cubicle, staring at the spreadsheet, wondering what you had done to deserve this. Maybe you were too nice? Maybe you wronged someone? Maybe you - the irritating ringing of your phone had you heave out a sigh and pick it up, letting out a tired, “Hello?”

“Excuse me, miss, this is the police. You're under arrest for being so damn hot that your boyfriend is willing to commit murder for you.”

A chuckle broke past your lips as you sighed, leaning against the seat and humming, “Ah…really? Well, Mr.Police, I'm a bit busy right now, so I'll have to get back to you soon.”

“Nonsense.”

You heard from the phone and from behind you, causing you to turn around, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder, facing the man holding his phone to his ear with one hand and in his other hand he held a white box.

Hanging up, he placed it on the desk before pushing your keyboard aside, causing you to gasp in disapproval, “Silence my queen.” He demanded before flipping open the box and showing you the sweet treat that you had been eying for a while. You'd glance at it everytime you'd buy your morning coffee, knowing very well it was the bakery's best selling treat, but you'd postpone it often, for various nonsense reasons, as Jung Wooyoung would claim.

“Woo…” you glanced up at him with a pout, “Work…I have work-”

“It's 6 p.m. No more work, only cake!” He declared dragging a stool next to your chair and handing you a spoon, “I was away for one meeting, and I came back to my queen in shambles? The nerve of people - just you wait, I'll punch San in the face for leaving you like this.”

“Woo…his wife was giving birth.” You shook your head in defeat and amusement, suddenly remembering another reason to your glum mood, you had missed your boss and his wife- your friend's birth of their first child.

“I know. Where'd you think I got the cake from.”

Your eyes widened at the statement before flickering to the cake, squinting at the small card that had, “Congratulations, it's a girl!” written on it.

“YOU STOLE HIS CAKE!?”

Your screech echoed in the empty office followed by his shameless cackle, and a “REVENGE SHOULD BE SWEET, MY QUEEN!”

“JUNG WOOYOUNG!?”

He rolled his eyes at your yelling and scooped up a good amount of cake and pressed it against your lips, “Say ahhh…I got coffee too.”

Taking in a deep breath you reminded yourself that the intention behind this was sweet, and that later, perhaps tomorrow you'd be apologising to the new parents with another cake and a gift for their new born baby. Parting your lips you let him feed you, closing your eyes in pure bliss, instantly forgetting about everyone and everything, wanting nothing more to smooch the man infront of you for blessing you with this wonderful, sweet, delicious treat.

The moment you opened your eyes, you realised that his lips were on yours, and you gently pushed him away, swallowing and mumbling, “Y-you idiot we’re at work.”

“Don't worry, ain't nobody here but us and this cake.”

You shook your head in amazement. This day had been shit, but at least you had your personal little clown, your companion, your lover, and your little thief swiping around and getting you treats. As the thoughts processed you had somehow started crying, tears rolling down your cheeks that you realised when you felt him wipe them with his thumb, giving you a small smile, “It's okay… its okay to feel overwhelmed, love…the world won't hate you if you take a little break.”

Nodding at his statement you let him pull you in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder as he gently stroked you back, mumbling, “Their daughter is beautiful…I'm glad she takes after the mom…imagine if her head was as big as his…pushing it out would've been hell.”

His smile widened at the sniffled laughter, hugging you closer as he eyed the cake that San’s wife had insisted he take back to you, knowing how you had to handle her husband’s load today and how the lack of a Jung in your life today may have overwhelmed you. She was right. Perhaps she was a good friend- welp. He was gonna swipe the cake anyway, Mrs.Choi only caught him and laughed it off.

“Woo…”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you…” you mumbled, moving back before you started eating again, taking a sip of your coffee, realising how hungry you were, how grateful you were, how loved you were. It really was a blessing to have someone like Jung Wooyoung in your life - no matter what kind of chaos he brought with him.

“Anything for you…my queen.” He whispered, watching you eat in peace, chin in palm as he admired you, taking in your tired posture and eyes, naturally you were tired and exhausted, drained and overwhelmed- no matter, he'd make sure to fix all that. It was his job to keep his queen, the love of his life, safe and happy.

[low-budget-korra]

The lies Arcane Fandom likes to believe

Okay, I've seen a lot of awful takes in other social medias but now they are getting here too and I just can't. So I will talk abt the truth a lot of the fandom chose to ignore. And I'm saying "the truth" because different from a lot of ppl, I've actually watched the show and paid attention to the scenes.

1. Jinx is the only one who has been traumatized

Half of the worst takes about characters like Vi or Caitlyn, wouldn't exist if ppl realize that Jinx WASN'T the only one who got traumatized. Vi spent 7y getting beat up in prison, without eating properly and confined in a dirt cell. And no, she is not the one to blame for the person Jinx became. Jinx has to be held accountable for that, just as much as Silco for feeding her paranoias and manipulating her for years.

2. Caitlyn was a evil character and manipulated Vi

Season 1 Caitlyn shows nothing but empathy and patience, y'all like to say Jinx was a revolutionary but s1 Caitlyn was a revolutionary. "Oh but she was rich, she can't be" oh my sweet summer child...

Anyways, she wanted to end Silco cartel - that was destroying Zaun. She even managed to get a council meeting to talk about this. She wanted to change things and she was acting towards this.

Then she got kidnapped naked, tortured for hours, didn't take the shot that would have saved her mother's life, her mother was murdered, the memorial ceremony was attacked and yet she REFUSED to follow the council's ideas to use full force and invade Zaun. Which led us to

2.1 Caitlyn used the grey against innocents

She DIDN'T. She said it herself that the plan was to capture Silco's goons and destroy the slimmer factories. And we see that in the Hellfire sequence.

So stop spreading that she was using the grey against innocents bc the people she used against it were Chembaroons who provoked a civil war on Zaun for power, and used children labor in its factories. They are far from innocents.

2.2 Caitlyn manipulates Vi

I don't even know where this fake news came from bc I've already watched Arcane 3 times, watch at least 4 reaction channels and a few analysis on yt and no one apart from some of y'all in fandom sees this. Jinx manipulates Vi way more than Caitlyn, for example, she is the one that makes Vi believe that her becoming Jinx is her fault.

3. Viktor and Jayce did nothing wrong

Jayce basically built a Chernobyl above Zaun just bc if Hextech goes bad, people from Zaun would be the ones suffering the consequences and not Piltover.

Y'all like to call Caitlyn a genocide (even tho we didn't see any kill directly from hr actions), when Viktor is literally the one willing to kill people in the thousands just because he believes it's the best call. "I want to evolve all those willing to" excuse me? Sir, what "evolve" even means in this scenario? Bc those "evolved" ppl became nothing more than marionettes with no control over their actions and completely brainwashed.

4. Caitlyn was a dictator, she knew everything that was happening on Zaun and did nothing

Caitlyn was actually a pawn in Ambessa chess, a face to Ambessa actions, a face to take the blame for. Noxus could not just simply invade Piltover and install an Martial Law without the support of a major house like house Kiramman.

Essentially what Ambessa did was promote Caitlyn, and hide behind her status. Because if any other Piltie house questions, she could be like "but I'm just here to support the Kirammans, I'm just doing what Im told"

We see in episode 4 that the Noxians are the ones dealing with Zaun's turf wars. Do y'all actually believe their reports on what's happening was legit? Of course not. Caitlyn made her decisions based on those false reports that she didn't even give two fucks about bc she was still too focused on tracking Jinx. That's why when she started to really see what was going on and questions Ambessa, Ambessa quickly pulls the "mom" card to push Caitlyn back into her web.

Sure, she was still powerful and privileged but she wasn't in full control. And the fact that a lot of the fandom dismisses Ambessa's manipulation shows how good at that she is.

5. Vi choose to have sex instead of helping her suicidal sister

Vi DOESN'T watch Arcane. She doesn't know how bad Jinx was and mind you, last time Jinx was acting weird she blew up things instead of being suicidal. We, the Audience, watch her whole journey and change. Vi only stayed with her for a short period of time and she was in a coma for days. She doesn't know what happened after Isha sacrificed and how much this affected Jinx.

"breaking the cycle" could mean a lot of things and if you listen to her words when Caitlyn arrives, you can see that she clearly thinks Jinx is out there abt to blow something. She is blaming herself for believing in Jinx change of heart and not sad for her being suicidal, this prob actually never crossed Vi's mind.

6. CaitVi was forced

I can't with this ""argument"" CaitVi is the couple that has been built since s1 😭. I take that sometimes they were toxic (like when Cait hit Vi) but to say they were forced...please use it 🧠

7. Silco was a revolutionary and a good father do Jinx

Sure, in the past. There's nothing glorious or revolutionary in running a cartel, having business with corrupted cops and child labor. "But he was getting money to his revolution" my ass. He spent 7y doing nothing but becoming more and more powerful while Zaun became like the Pride Lands when Scar took over. He only gets back to his revolutionary ideas when Jinx stole the Hextech gem.

His beautiful speech doesn't match his horrible actions.

The fact that so many ppl see him as this perfect father figure, is the reason so many ppl so easily fall into abusive relationships. Yes, he took care of her but at the same time, he isolated Jinx from her sister , fed her paranoia and instigated her violence tendencies. And it's so clear bc the moment he was no longer in her life, she started to get better in her mental health.

Anyway to finish this long ass post lmao, I want to say that you are free to dislike and hate who you want and what narrative choice you want. The only thing, that ain't that hard, is be fucking honest abt it. There's no need to create bullshit expectations over your hate, ignoring the CANNON.

[neerons]

Some of Yves Kloss’ best quotes

"He caaaaaaaaame! " (—Yves screaming about Clavis)

"You're the most common commoner I've ever seen. You have no redeeming features to speak of. Why should I accept someone like that?"

"Choosing me shows how sophisticated you are. You won't regret it." (—Yves' changing route quote)

"Y-You call that a CAKE...?" (—Yves reacting to Clavis' gift)

"If this shameless behavior goes on any longer, you’ll find out what happens if you test my patience. I suggest that you don’t." (—Yves defending Emma in front of a noblewoman that bullied her)

"ExCUSE me? What on earth are you doing hiding in my closet?!"

"Excuse me? And why not?! I’m going to tell everyone, so we can figure out how best to punish her for what she did to you! (…) Huh?! Hey, no, you’ve got it all wrong! This isn’t kindness! I just know I’d end up with the worst stomachache if something happened to you because of me!" (—Yves defending Emma)

"Why should you have to be the one to carry such a heavy burden? This is a problem between two nations. It’s not the sort of thing a simple, kind-hearted woman like yourself needs to get involved in."

"…Emma really is amazing. I could never do anything like that. I always wanted to be a bridge that could bring Obsidian and Rhodolite together… But I was despised just for being half-Obsidianite, and I accepted it all, like it was completely normal. I never did a single thing to actually improve the relationship between our countries. I didn’t even think I could. It takes courage and resolve to approach someone when you’re completely at odds with them. It’s not easy, not in the slightest. I bet it’s left Emma in tears countless times. But even so, she’s still here now, holding her head high and taking that first step towards peace. She really is… amazing. (…) She’s so beautiful it’s dazzling. (…) I’ve spent my whole life with my head down, seeing nothing but the ground at my feet. I really need to change—I need to learn from her example." (—Yves talking about Emma to Leon)

"Fhwhwh...?! Oh my god. How is my little brother this adorable?!" (—Yves talking about Licht)

"Know this: Yves Kloss loves you, and he's always thinking about you. There's not a day you're not in his thoughts."

"You do realize you're pretty, no matter what?"

"For the record? Each time you make me happy, I swear I'll make you even happier."

"H-Hey... Have you really not noticed that I, Yves Kloss, am waiting for the right moment to talk with you?"

"U-Um, Emma... Don't tell me you're... with both of them...?" (—Yves talking about Emma holding Gilbert's and Clavis' hands)

"Just the thought of being tossed into a den full of women sends a shiver up my spine..."

"Did you just say... LOVE?!" (—Yves to Licht and Leon)

"I guess you captivated me. You were always striving to be perfect, and... that's the Emma I fell in love with."

"Y-You think you can just be all cute and get away with it, huh?"

"Please don't cry, Emma. When you cry... my heart aches so badly I don't know what to do."

"I'm not a prince to be pitied. It doesn't matter if no one accepts me. The only one I need acceptance from is me. (...) It doesn't matter what other people say. What's the point, if you can't trust yourself, and believe in your own worth? Even if they trample you under their filthy, worn boots—so long as you hold your head high and believe in yourself, it'll only make you stronger."

"Okay, which of you gave Licht wine?! How many times have I told you not to?!"

"There are so many people in the world who hate me. But... I hate me more than any of them."

"Aww, Licht, don't be so down. Failure is an unavoidable part of cooking!" (—Yves reassuring a sulking Licht)

"I'm never making dessert for any of you ever again!! You're all horrible and you can eat dirt for all I care!"

"I am NOT a cat!!!"

"...I know that kindness of yours is probably a virtue, but I can't help worrying that you're going to kindness yourself to death one day."

"What? No! I didn't meow. Why on earth would I meow?!"

"You're my goddess of happiness. I... thank you for coming, Emma."

"He's such a brazen fool! Not a principled bone in his body, and he's incorrigible to boot!" (—Yves talking about Nokto)

"Listen, you didn't hear this from me, but... Licht made almost five hundred attempts before he baked an edible batch of cookies. (...) That boy really loves you a lot. So much that it gives me heartburn just thinking about it."

"I often get told that I don't have luck. But when I talk to you, I feel like my life isn't all that bad."

"I hope she comes soo... WAHH! W-Warn me when you come!"

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

mm... m.. more dave... dilf dave... mean dom dilf dave...... please..... dilf dave.... (I've gone insane)

A/n: There was a point Dave and his wife, Pamela, got into a fight and she walked out on him, this fic happened after that if they hadn't gotten back together

Warnings: Smut, size difference, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You met Dave at a parental support group, everyone acted weird around him which just made things worse for him and his kids. You didn't get it and started talking to him, quickly becoming his person.

It didn't take long for you to realize just how much you liked him, you figured he wouldn't feel the same so you ignored it and carried on from day to day.

As much as Dave came to you you went to him. You had had a really bad day at work and could not be more thankful that you didn't have your kid for the day. You called Dave and asked to come over, to which he happily agreed.

"And it's, like..." You trailed, poking at the food Dave had made for you. "Three people! Three people, I got yelled at by three people in less than an hour first thing in the morning for something I didn't even fucking do!" You huffed and let your head fall onto your arm.

Dave hid a smile behind his hand but he couldn't hide the small chuckle that escaped him. "I'm sorry, it's not funny."

"No, it's not." You barked.

Dave lightly swatted at your thigh. "Calm down, I'm on your side."

"Calm down?" You sat up again. "Calm down. You-you're telling me to calm down?" You could feel all the emotions you'd been pushing down bubbling up.

Dave's expression hardened. "Watch the bass in your voice when you're talking to me, darling." You rolled your eyes at him and went back to poking your food. Dave took your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks and making you look at him. "Hey, do I need to spank some manners back into you?" He asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

You chewed your cheek as you thought about it, it wouldn't be the worst end to your day.

Dave let go of your head and went back to his own food. "I wouldn't do that, you know." He murmured, taking a bite. "If I was gonna do anything..." He trailed, gaze flickering back to see you waiting patiently for his next words. He looked back to his plate. "I'd treat you like a queen... you need some love after your day." He finally said, poking at his own food again.

You didn't take your eyes off of him. Of all things, you hadn't expected that. He was the lead singer and lead guitarist of a founding thrash metal band, he'd toured the world before he'd even met you, you expected... anything but that.

"A queen seems a little excessive." You said with a soft chuckle as your fork scraped the plate through your food.

Dave's attention snapped back to you. "Are you actually going to eat that?" You raised a brow at him, the looked back to the plate. "If you're just going to sit there and complain I'll give you something else to think about."

It all happened so fast after that; his hands on your body, yours and his clothes being dropped in the hallway as he led you to his room, lips never leaving yours for a moment. By the time you were on his bed, in his lap with your hands in his hair, you were both naked.

"That's it." Dave mused, cupping your ass in his palms. Your hands were planted on his shoulders, steadying yourself as you sank down on his length. "Keep your eyes on me, darling, you're doing so good." He praised, watching where your bodies connected, the way you stretched around him.

Your face morphed with pleasure, lips parting with soft moans and heavy breaths. You already felt so full of him, you looked down to see another inch or two to go so you just let go of your weight, gasping when his tip hit deep inside you, creating a bulge in your stomach.

"Oh, look at that." He gleamed, lightly tracing the bump with his finger. "Taking me so well, bet you feel stuffed, huh?" He asked, leaning closer to kiss down your neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin there.

"Feels-feels s'good, Davie." You managed to say. Your hands moved from his shoulders, arms wrapping around his neck and holding yourself close to him.

Dave gave a small hum. "Davie." He repeated, hot breath fanning over your neck. "I'll make your day, but I get to ask for something, don't I?" He pulled away to look at you, holding your face in his big hand. "Daddy. Say it. Call me daddy."

You felt your face heat up at the request. You couldn't turn him down, not when he was effortlessly hitting every spot in you. "Can-can you move, daddy..." You asked, a nervousness in your voice.

His smirk widened and he nodded. "Of course, darling, anything for you." He flipped you over onto your back, muscular arms encasing you.

Dave held himself up on his elbows, caging you in. Your legs wrapped around his waist, arms still around his neck. His lips connected with yours again as he pulled back, setting a slow rhythm with his thrusts.

Your moans filled the room, Dave's kisses trailing down your neck. Looking down you saw Dave's cock, slick with you as he got sucked back in again and again. You saw how deep he went from the bulge, long and thick.

He brought his hand down to rub your clit, not changing his pace. "That's good, isn't it?" He asked.

You nodded, body twitching. "Yes! Yes, feels so good, daddy." You moaned, eyes fluttering. "I-I'm so close, gonna cum-mh!" Your eyes screwed shut, hips bucking but Dave was quick to force you back down with a harsh snap of his own hips, his face buried in your neck.

"Ah-ah, just-just stay still, darling." He was getting close too, pulsing in your welcoming warmth. "Let me do the work, you've had a rough day, haven't you?" He asked, lifting himself up to look at you, wanting to watch just how good he was making you feel.

You nodded. "I-it- I had-" Your words were strangled by moans.

"Shh, just let it feel good." His calloused fingers rubbed your clit in small circles. He was perfect, he didn't change a thing, he found what you liked, he searched for your pleasure and it washed over you like a thousand volts of electricity.

Dave wasn't far behind you, not with the way you were clenching around him so deliciously, his low groans flooding your mind.

He pulled out of you, running his hand down your side as he sat back to look at you. His breathing was heavy and his smile was proud. "Look at you." He mused. "So pretty, all tired and relaxed... you're always so stressed..." He moved further down the bed, spreading your thighs apart.

He stared at you in awe, the way his cum got pushed out of your with every flutter of your puffy and used hole. You wanted to watch him but you were tired, your body was drained, mind foggy from the way he made you cum.

Dave licked through your folds, happily swallowing your mixed juices. He hummed in satisfaction. "You taste amazing, love." He continued to lap up your cum, looking up at you and watching your reactions to find what you liked.

His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking it to a good beat. He pushed his muscle inside of you, nose bumping your sensitive nub. He could do this for hours, watching you come undone all over again.

Every time he saw you you were tense over something, bills, kids, work, whatever it was there was always something. If he'd known all it took to help you was a little affection he would've done this months ago, now he'd have to make up for lost time.

[sassy-radio-hazbin-queen]

Ok I am going to talk about something that's been on my mind recently.

Major warning ⚠️ might get deep.

Also ADHD RAMBLING SORRY IN ADVANCE 😔

Regarding Alastor and the Seven year absence. Ok so I see how In some recent posts people say Alastor must feel forgotten by the Hasbin crew, cause When Sir Pentious and Dazzle died they got a portrait and a statue. While Alastor got nothing. And Charlie thought he had died too.

But while that is true I'm surprised no one talks about how Alastor already felt Forgotten long before the fight. I'm talking about when he finally got home after 7 years disappearance.

My boy didn't get a Welcome home,( although he did get one from Carmilla later on)or a " Hey are you ok". Nothing. What does he get. Pushed around, Judged ( though it's quite understandable it's still wrong) and even told that he basically didn't matter. Remember the scene between Carmilla and Alastor. Alastor was basically asking her " Hey while I was gone, Did you at least think about me"?. And Carmilla response was definitely " Eh Not Really, But welcome back in any case".

Sure he looked pissed but if I was in his place I'd feel very hurt. I kinda noticed how everyone treats Alastor as if he is the worst thing in hell. When there so much worse * cough Valentino cough*

From what I understand he only targeted those that hurt others. Maybe Hell was pissed because in a way he was saving other souls. Taking them from their abusive owners. Which is fucked up but it's hell. What do you expect?

I firmly believe Alastor grew up in a abusive household and definitely witnessed his mother getting abused which definitely affected his psyche. Maybe his father killed his mother and after killing his father he vowed no one will ever go through what he went through.

So he targeted awful people and offed them. When he got to hell. I think he felt his work wasn't done yet and now he is in the land of abusers and monsters. Maybe deep down. He was the one SCARED 😨.

Maybe he killed so he could feel safe in a twisted way. He ended up selling his soul cause he was scared. His owner who i headcanon is like Mother Gothel definitely didn't help. She manipulated him into thinking she is keeping him safe. When In reality she was using him for his powers.

I also headcanon that ( now this is going to sound crazy) His owner forces him to dress and act the way he does. She wants to be the only one who can play with her toy. His owner definitely doesn't share. So she will try to make him look in her eyes unappealing. We all know this doesn't work though. As Vox had fallen in love with him.

Now I don't believe Vox ever hurt Alastor and as much as I love stories where he gets 😳 obsessed. I actually would be happy if they become best friends again and hope it was just a giant misunderstanding just like Fizz and Blitz.

Still something happened That hurt Alastor deeply that he now hates anything to do with television. My Headcanon is cause Vox started to spend more time with Valentino and accidentally leaving Alastor in the dark. Alastor enjoyed spending time with Vox. Going dancing at a club, listening to radio shows. Even cuddling in a blanket watching a movie. But I think the main reason he enjoyed Vox's company is cause, His owner couldn't touch him. She couldn't hurt him in any way.

Kinda like how a person wants there friend over so there abuser doesn't hurt them. The abuser won't cause they rather do their evil deed in secret.

In other words Alastor felt safe around Vox and when he started spending time with Valentino and less with him. His owner would hurt him.

But no one knew this cause Alastor always had a smile on his face. Always seemed sure and confident of himself. This is a perfect representation of " You don't know what happens behind closed doors". I think this was a learned habit from childhood too. Maybe after his father abused him or/and his mother he would threaten to kill them if they told or even showed any signs of abuse.

His owner definitely has that power. If she has the power to give him power then she has the power to erase Alastor from existence. I think she threatened his afterlife multiple times.

Anyway eventually Vox and Alastor have a big fight which pissed the owner off. And she took him away for seven years. Personally I am among those that think she TORTURED him during that time.

I think she let him out and told him to watch the princess and make sure no one gets redeemed. She sews a smile on his face so everyone thinks he is happy and fine. Again reference to what I said earlier.

Alastor goes back home and everything has changed. Probably a culture shock to him. He goes to the hotel and had to pretend everything is ok. Maybe he was all touchy feely with everyone cause he wants to feel safe and secure. Like he is finally home and not hallucinating. When he is pushed away he acts like it doesn't matter but I think it does. I think it hurts him deeply but because of the abuse he endured in childhood and his afterlife he puts up a front as a defense mechanism.

As Alastor told Charlie

" Just because you see a Smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool my dear. It inspires your friends, Keeps your enemies Guessing and says no matter what comes your way, Your the one in control".

In a roundabout way he was basically calling for help without saying he needs help. Remember he can't tell her or anyone about what he went through. Of course In a way it means he is still a prisoner. His owner can take him away at any time and this definitely scares him. So he will do anything he can to prevent this from happening. Even making a deal with the princess of hell.

Anyway So while after the battle I think he felt Forgotten, I think he already felt that way. Like he doesn't matter and he wants to matter. His owner and father probably told him that he is worth nothing and no one will miss him while he is gone.

Well he was gone twice and NO ONE missed him.

That's very sad when you think about it and I'm surprised no one had brought it up yet.

Once again I apologize for my rambling thank you for reading

[hiddengiggles]

Let’s talk about consent and smart ways to play

Yes, consent can be revoked at any time. That’s normal and your boundaries should be reexamined regularly as part of your own check ins.

No, it doesn’t mean either party did anything wrong, it can just be a change of what either wants. Shaming either party for changing their mind serves no one. Don’t act like the person who was receiving the action is unfair or a “tease” for changing their mind. Don’t act like the person giving the action was bad or wrong for doing the thing for which they had consent at the time because you didn’t like it.

Yes, it’s awesome to be able to open yourself up and be vulnerable for different activities and kinks. When you don’t have a partner to engage with regularly, it can be thrilling to finally find a person to play with, I know.

No, blanket consent for EVERYTHING right from the jump is NOT a good idea. If you’re connecting with a play partner the first few times, start slow and expand. Feeling enough trust to give consent for some kinks can and probably should take time so uou can be really comfortably vulnerable

Yes, it is exciting to safely meet play partners from the online world when you are BOTH ready for it! When you’re safe about meeting (getting to know them slowly, setting a neutral meeting point, letting a few people know where you’re going and the name of your friend, etc) it can be a great way to get time with your kinks. When it isn’t forced, rushed, or for too long a time period, the organic connection can be magical!

No, you should not assume each party is on the same page unless you’ve communicated multiple times, especially in writing. If you had a phone call a month ago that talked about boundaries and assume all is well, you’re not actually playing safely. Some people write out rules, some BDSM players sometimes make it a “contract”, but a verbal conversation will not protect you or help you if worse comes to worst. This is especially important for partners still new to playing together. Record the hard conversations in some way.

Yes, you can start a conversation on boundaries and kinks with generalization. Example on my end, my husband and I both are okay with pictures and videos taken of us and posting them. In the early days of our relationship, we checked every time we played “Is it okay if I film this?” but after years together we’ve both agreed it’s okay to take them anytime, though we check with each other if we’re comfortable with what was captured regularly.

No, a general conversation is not enough. Continuing my example, we both have boundaries for ourselves and for each other to make sure we’re okay with it being posted (or sometimes sold). Earlier today, I put on a really pretty lingerie set for some birthday giggles. However, I stopped and asked “If you wanted to film this, would you be comfortable with me being seen in this publicly? Our usually boundaries call for a top and bottoms covering”. He paused, considered, and said no, so I put on a tank top and shorts too. Get specific with every aspect of your play, from your comfortable clothing levels, to where content can be posted, to areas you don’t want touched that day that you might normally be okay with otherwise. Assuming you already know the answer is not enough, say it again.

Consent is a lot bigger and more complicated than just this post, so talk about it A LOT with your partner(s). The biggest key to a good relationship in and out of kink (friendship, mentorship, romantic relationship) is to NEVER STOP TALKING. Communication is key, talk about your boundaries and consent over and over and over. They will change and grow, and so will you.

Mistakes and miscommunications will happen, but it’s important to talk about them like the grown people you are. A lot of consent issues with new partners aren’t malicious, they can easily stem from either party being unclear or simply not thinkinh to ask about something that could be a boundary issue. Unless it was a blatant “I KNEW the boundary and disregarded it purposely because I wanted to do it” situation, be an adult and talk about it. If you’re adult enough to be engaging in activities or kinks for adults, you need to follow through and talk about what went right and wrong. Learn and grow from the stuff you didn’t do as well before, accept responsibility for your part, and move on, with or without that partner.

[sturniololuv08]

TreeHouse Chapter 11

"Matty wants to see you in his room."

Summary: Matt gets angry.

"Anger is like hot blood rushing through your veins."

⚠️This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of abuse.⚠️

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

Chris' POV:

She said she wouldn't let it go; honestly, I didn't want her to. But I knew the things she didn't. I knew if Matt found out I even talked to her, I would probably die. I thought about death often. Not in the sense I wanted to die necessarily but more so in the sense if it happened, I wouldn't be surprised anymore. I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus to help avoid Sienna—my Nessie.

I remember everything about her now. I accidentally trauma-blocked her. Leaving her behind, not knowing I wasn't going to see her for years, was the worst thing to ever happen to me. Worse than any beating I have ever taken. I remember that evening clearly. We got home, and Mom was livid that Father allowed me to go over there. She punished me by hitting me with the kitchen broom over and over. I begged our dad to help me, but I think that was his breaking point. He stopped being my father that day.

Since then, everyone in the house has treated me this way. I was alone. I lost everything. I held onto Nessie for a while. I imagined us playing together in the treehouse often. Sometimes, when Matt would use me as his personal punching bag, I would picture her doe eyes lighting up when I did something silly. She was my anchor until I forgot her. No matter how hard I try, I can't pinpoint the exact moment I forgot; I just did.

I was coming up to her house. I walked a little slower, secretly hoping she would see me and stop me. It's not that I didn't want to talk to her or be friends again. I didn't want the assaults that I knew would come with her friendship.

"Chris!" I looked up and saw her walking to the gate. I felt a sense of relief. "Can we talk?" She asked. I knew I didn't have much time to talk, but I wanted to. I needed to hear her voice.

"Not long, okay?" I just needed to be home at a decent time so no one got suspicious of my absence. She opened the gate, and I passed through. I followed her to the treehouse. For some reason, coming here during the day felt different. It felt heavier. She climbed up without issues. I tried my best not to show the pain in my arm, but I still winced enough for her to notice.

"What happened to your arm?"

"We can talk, but not about that." I was stern. She had to know not to press the issue.

"Okay." Her voice was soft and a little broken. I looked around the treehouse. Nothing had changed.

"It looks the exact same," I told her.

"I haven't been in here in years." She was also looking around like it was brand new.

"Why?" I asked.

"You left, and it just reminded me of you too much." I felt my words lumping in my throat. I wanted to tell her everything. I needed her to know it wasn't my choice to leave her behind. I never would have. But I couldn't. If this was still the same kind-hearted, strong-willed Nessie, I knew she would try to help, and it would just make it worse. I avoided looking at her.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn't bring myself to look up at her.

"Are you guys brothers?" She asked again. I felt the lump in my throat dissipate into tears. I needed to leave.

"I have to get home." I lied. Nothing pleased me more than not being at home.

"Chris, you can tell me." She reached for me and grabbed my hand, which made my skin crawl. I lurched away from the unwanted contact. She looked hurt.

"I have to get home," I said, starting to climb down. She followed me, as I expected.

"Chris, what happened to you?" She pleaded for an answer I couldn't give her no matter how badly I wanted to. I kept walking. Eventually, I heard her footsteps stop following behind me. I didn't dare look back at her. I felt like I already knew what she looked like. I made it to our house. On the outside, it was well-kept and looked nice. You'd never guess the hell that happened inside of it.

"What took you so long to get home?" Mother was right by the door in seconds.

"I wal -" She smacked my face. I looked down at the floor.

"I didn't say you could talk." Her threat didn't make sense since she asked me a question. I nodded, still not looking up. Part of me didn't like looking at her face. She was my mother, but her disdain for my presence distorted how she looked at me. I wanted to envision a mother who loved and cared for me just like Matt and Nick. She smacked the side of my head again for nothing. "Matty wants to see you in his room." Her words made my blood cold. I felt a jolt of fear sting through my body. I lifted my head to look at her now. "Fucking go." She pushed me towards the hallway leading to their rooms and my old one. I sulked slowly, knowing nothing about this was going to end well. I stood outside his bedroom door shaking. My whole body already felt light, and my head was full of air, ready to pop. I knocked, knowing I had no choice but to.

"Get in here." Nothing about his tone was calm. I could tell he was already mad about something. I stepped into the room. "Shut the fucking door." He was standing in the middle of his room with his arms folded. I quietly shut the door. I noticed Nick's absence, which meant this would be very personal. "Drop your bag." I knew I had to do everything I was told to do because if I didn't, then I would just get punished by Mom. I dropped the bag on the floor with a thud. "Why were you talking to Si today?" I was going to die. My eyes widened, realizing he had seen her chasing me around at some point.

"She talked to me." I tried to explain.

"Why the fuck did you talk to Sienna?" Matt's voice boomed, and I whimpered at the sudden volume change. I knew it didn't matter what I said. He wouldn't care.

"I used to know her," I told the truth.

"Well, you don't fucking know her anymore." He walked up to me and slammed my back against his door. "Got it?" Before I could respond, he grabbed my uncut, shaggy hair and started slamming my hand back into the wooden frame. "I asked you a question." He hissed.

"Yes, Matt. I won't -" He threw me to the ground. I turned over to see him walking over to me. He reared his foot back and kicked me right in the stomach. I curled up. This was it. He kicked me again and again. I felt the sole of his shoes kissing my blood vessels until they popped, creating purple splotches.

"Sienna is fucking my girl." He was carelessly aiming his kick but ensured his white shoes made contact with my body. I started coughing and groaning from the fire rising inside me. "If I see you talk to her again -" He kicked my mouth. My head lurched back from the decisive blow. I felt warm liquid start oozing. "I will fucking kill you." He screamed. I'm sure everyone in the house heard him. I knew it would be the worst whenever Nick wasn't involved with Matt's special attention towards me. He kicked my face again, and I felt the blood splatter like a flicked paintbrush. He kept going, stomping on me every once in a while when he felt like really putting the pain on me. I was feeling sick to my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up from the immense pain. "I better not see you talk to her ever again." Matt gave me one last kick to the face. He left his room to go somewhere. I lay on the floor with my tiny blood pool and splatters. His blood stained shoes left red foot prints leading out the door.

I wanted to cry, but no tears came out. I couldn't breathe, and for the first time since ever being treated this way, I wanted to die. I lay in his room, uncomfortable, fearing his return. The door opened, and I couldn't even move to look and see who it was. I was picked up and dragged down the hall with my feet sliding against the floor. I was tossed in the tub with all my clothes still on. The water was turned on, and I was left alone. I felt something bubbling inside me, and I let it out of my mouth. The bile burned coming up. There were red blood streaks mixed in. The water imediately started washing it away. As soon as I felt myself catching my breath, my eyes became too heavy to keep open.

A/N I promise everything happening is for a reason lmaooo

TreeHouse Taglist:

@trevorsgodmother @mintsturniolo @wysmols @chriss-slutt @middlepartmatt @blushsturns @shadowtheism @fratbrochrisgf @loveparqdise @courta13 @sturniolo-fann @verstarkey @chrissweetheart @bluetalia @sturns-mermaid @wattttttttno @sturnioloshottiekay @pair-of-pantaloons @sophia-77n @adoremattsturns

This fic is TAGLIST SPECIFIC, meaning in order to be tagged in this, you HAVE to be on the list. I'm doing this because of TRIGGERS.

REBLOG INSTRUCTIONS: I don't mind just please stress the trigger warnings so no backlash comes back to me!

New Info: to be removed from the taglist just DM me.

[lala056]

Exhausting

I have no respect for billford shippers that look down on stancest shippers.

Oh what, you’d have me believe a genetic tie to a partner is somehow worse than being with someone that stabs through your hands, forces you to swallow live spiders, and also SA’s you by having yourself forcibly strip down in public and swing your clothes over your head like a helicopter? (sorry but anyone that forcibly removes your clothes and exposes your body, even if you’re a guy/lacking breasts and it’s just your chest, is committing SA against you. They’re exposing your body against your will plain and simple. Try to write that off how you like but that’s the facts)

The logic behind this baffles me honestly.

There’s a reason Alex titled that kissing drawing as "the worst drawing in the world" and then linked to an amazon BIBLE page (yeah I know that was part of a joke well guess what he frequently uses the bible joke for shipping in general so yeah).

Because he knows it’s BAD, TOXIC, PROBLEMATIC AS YOU GUYS LIKE TO LABEL THINGS. What I see people incorrectly accuse PROSHIPPERS to REPRESENT rather than the actual representation of the LIVE AND LET LIVE CREDO OF SHIPPING.

Ever stop to consider that maybe Alex didn’t do stancest or art involving Wendy/Dipper because he simply a) didn’t like those ships, which is valid since everyone has their own tastes, and he did base some of these characters on his own family so it’s close to home for him, or b) knows how toxic and chronically online a lot of haters are? That he wanted to avoid drama for this stream that he’s trying to milk every cent out of for CHARITY? (It's ridiculous how many times he felt obligated to say "REMEMBER IT'S FOR CHARITY" when shipping came up just to try and prevent any meltdowns from uptight fans and viewers. And even then he still didn't do some because he knew the fact of it being for charity still wouldn't fly for some- because a lot of people would rather watch REAL PEOPLE SUFFER to preserve their fictional sensitivities)

Not to mention he still works with Disney (chibiverse hello), any backlash (the form of false pedo accusations or incest apologist accusations being what happens to be thrown around all willy nilly nowadays over fictional bullshit) could get him blocked not only from working with the company ever again, but lose any input he might have over his beloved passion project and baby Gravity Falls itself?

This is a man who has said COUNTLESSLY that he doesn’t care about ships, has even encouraged people to "be weirder" and made omelet hypotheticals for how much HE DOESN’T CARE BECAUSE FICTIONAL SHIPS DON’T MATTER.

Alex Hirsch is a KING.

And it’s sad to see that so many of his loyal subjets are so bigoted and blind to ignore his own feelings in order to justify their own, or to somehow perform the mental gymnastics in order to absolve themselves of "thought crimes" so that they can feel like they aren’t bad people under the imposition of conservative purity culture.

The terms "cest" and "age" are trigger words now. If those show up in any form, pitchforks come out and roofs get burned. Companies overreact and overcompensate. He said Disney people were watching, so of course he’s gonna say and act in what is deemed an appropriate manner because even companies apparently prefer abusive relationships to ones that have a blood tie even if blood ties are wholesomely depicted.

The age old double standards.

And don’t get me started on bringing up Dipper Goes To Taco Bell. Alex and cast know of that story, they’ve made references to it in a video game and such, immortalized it. They engage with all corners of their fandom, also shown by Jason’s "saving the town" reference on stream.

Another thing, anyone notice how they laughed off the Dipper and Wendy suggestion Jason made, rather than exploded? BECAUSE THEY DON'T CARE IT'S NOT THAT SERIOUS - and most likely turned them down because they know there's more drama about characters being aged up and crap so it wouldn't have mattered if they're adults now, there are people who will always see them as "kids".

Point is - If there was such a strong hate on Alex’s part about the darker side of fiction or taboos he’d do all in his power to make sure they were never mentioned again and be active against them. 

He’s a kind, caring man that obviously likes to just get along with people, but he does put his foot down when he feels something is awful. He’s made political posts about presidents he feels are corrupt and spoken out against social injustice. You honestly think he wouldn’t speak out about those taboo ships in frank language if he thought that they shouldn’t exist and that the people who create for them are awful?

Newsflash, he would. Yes, he’d isolate a sadly small part of his fanbase, but he’s shown time and again he doesn’t care about being liked. He cares about what’s right.

And abusing others over which made up character kisses who, isn’t.

If you’re someone that mislabels proshippers too, to mean "problematic shippers", then as a billford shipper you’re one by definition. And yes, I'm including you AU billford shippers too because there is always some degree of toxicity.

Knock the hate and abuse off. People that go off about why their ship is justified and another isn't are the reason people leave fandoms and leave amazing works often unfinished, even Gen writers and artists.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Marinette Salt Prompts: In which Max saves Paris by being himself - Part 1

Prompt by yours truly :)

Warning: Long Post!

When Max first became Pegasus, he was initially excited to become a hero. Getting these cool awesome powers, being able to help the people of Paris and be seen more than just a computer geek had put a spring in his step.

And it still was! ... For a time at least.

But then one day following an akuma attack in which Max lost conciousness (from a wasp attack? did Chloe get akumatised again?) Ladybug came by with a new suit and a declaration that she was the "Guardian" (whatever that had meant). Nobody questioned the declaration, even Max.

This of course, meant that Pegasus became a hero more than not.

This didn't seem so bad at first ... but then the weariness began to set in. More and more akuma's appeared, resulting in Max having to be called more often, leaving him tired and exhausted as a result. While Max was lucky enough that he had not managed to to be hit by an akuma's power, seeing one of his hero allies just disappear sent shivers down the poor genius's spine. Especially when Roi Singe was hit (even though Max had no clue who he was, he seemed familliar).

It didn't help that Ladybug and Chat Noir, the main Heroes of Paris, had begun to fight a lot more. At first it was just simple disagreements, but then it became louder. Max noted that Chat kept trying to get close to Ladybug, but the latter kept trying to push him away. At first Max had assumed that it was due to Chat's well known crush on Ladybug, but now he was not so sure, especially when she began to get snappy with others even if Chat had said nothing the enitre fight (which in itself became more and more uncommon). Ladybug was obviously stressed, but whenever anyone commented on it, she would either deny it or get incredibly angry (especially if it was Chat Noir that made the statement)

It was only after a long and terrible akuma battle that Max began to see things differently. More than half the heroes had been "disappeared", only to be returned back to life with the Miraculous Ladybug. A lot of the heroes looked very uncomfortable, but had said nothing as Ladybug once again congratulated them on a won battle.

Max finally spoke up.

"Um... actually, I have a question?"

The way Ladybug seemed to snap her head to him almost made him jump back, but seeing as she had some sort of smile on her face, he continued.

"These akuma's have started to become more and more problematic recently ... more than half of us were... vanished, when normally that doesn't happen..."

Of course it happened more often, they just didn't say anything. But this is the worst one yet. Most of them vanished. ONLY vanished. We don't say kill because thats impossible to think about without feeling sick to the core

"... perhaps we should approch the problem with the akumas a bit more differently?"

Ladybug paused, the smile disappearing from her face as she contemplated what he said.

"...Well... sure. I suppose we don't spend enough time actually training. I mean, me and Noir have a lot of experience but all of you are much newer than we are ..." Ladybug snapped her fingers in excitement "Oh I know! How about we meet up for a training session? Perhaps we could all take the time to learn how to use our powers better!"

Despite the well intentions behind it, Max actually felt sick at the idea of having to spend more time in the costume. He actually had his own life to worry about thank you very much. (Unbeknwnst to him, several others felt the same way).

"N-No! I-I mean that was what I was going with, we are ok with using our abilities." Max said hurriedly, avoiding the subtle displeasure on Ladybug's face. "What I meant to say was... shouldn't we try and solve the issue directly."

"What, you mean the akumas?" Ladybug asked.

"No ... I meant Hawkmoth. Shouldn't we do something about finding him?"

The question caused everyone to perk up at the thought. Even the now-normally silent Chat Noir raised his ears at the suggestion.

However, Ladybug's face remained stone cold.

"That's ... not possible."

"What do you mean its not? I mean, we have these powers right? Couldn't we use them to find him?" Max said, even as the others visibly shrinked with anger.

"I'm saying its not as simple as you think. We don't have the time to find him. We already spent enough time dealing with the akumas. Don't you want to go back to your normal lives?"

(The irony that the akuma's had left them busy to begin with remained lost on Ladybug's mind, even as the others inwardly cringed at the statement)

Max however refused to back down on this however. "Ladybug, with all due respect, we have been fighting an akuma every few days now. Some weeks we even had to fight every single day! Shouldn't we try to stop the problem at its source?"

"The problem," Ladybug said through gritted teeth. "is that Hawkmoth is too well hidden. We need to focus on being ready for his next attack, not wasting time on impossible goals. We can stop him for good when he finally gets cocky and shows himself."

"B-But we can't rely on that! Ladybug, he has no reason to show himself because his powers don't require him to be close to be effective. Too many of us got ki- got vanished! If this happens again we could actually be in serious trouble!"

"Look, I'm trying my best here! My plan was still able to work! We succeeded in the end right? We saved the day! That's all that matters! That's all we can do for now!" Ladybug said, her voice getting louder.

"And what if it fails the next time?"

"My plans haven't failed yet! Can't you trust me Pegasus?"

"I do! B-But you haven't been performing optimally! Every time you call us you look extremely tired, and you've begun stuttering at times when you're making a plan in battle! You've been coming to every akuma fight all tense and stressed and-"

Max's voice died out in his throat as the rest of the team flinched. He didn't want to say that word, but it slipped out on accident. The whole teamed had learned that nobody should call Ladybug stressed. But he did.

The effect was near instant. Ladybug's eyes constricted and she began to visibly tense up and shake.

"OH GREAT, NOW ITS YOU TOO! CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE NOT THE ONE HAVING TO STRUGGLE HERE?! I'M THE GUARDIAN! I'VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT THAN YOU WASTING MY TIME ON STUPID QUESTIONS!"

Pegasu- no, Max, flinched, but tried to stay strong. Emphasis on tried, even as his confidence began to falter/

"Ladybug look, i'm sorry, but if you could jus-"

"NO, YOU DON'T GET IT. I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN STOP HAWKMOTH. ALL I ASK IS FOR THE REST OF YOU TO JUST LISTEN TO MY PLAN SO THAT WE CAN BEAT THE AKUMA AND GO HOME. BUT NO, YOU HAVE TO QUESTION EVERYTHING I DO LIKE IM DOING EVERYTHING WRONG! I HAVE TO MAKE THE PLAN! WHO ELSE CAN PURIFY THE AKUMA? WHO ELSE CAN SAVE PARIS?" Ladybug yelled as she stormed up to Pegasus, furiously tense and visibly sweating.

"But how are we supposed to save Paris if Hawkmoth is still a threat?!" Max said suddenly, a wave of adrenaline overcoming him as he momentarily met Ladybug's eyes. "We can't keep doing this forever like we have no one that won't miss us, we have our own lives too! We can't keep running off to save Paris when our families don't even know where we are! My mom doesn't know where I am!"

Ladybug narrowed her eyes.

"So this is what this is about?" Ladybug asked questionly with hostility. "That you can't keep up with being ahero? Being a hero means that sometimes we have to do what is necassary for the greater good! Not everyone can run away when you're the only one who had the power to fix it. Its about sacrifice!"

"...but this isn't sacrifice. It's a slaughter." Max said, his voice suddenly going hoarse. He felt tired in that moment, a wave of exhaustion ovecoming him as he slumped forwards. He wanted to be back home, not on these rooftops, but with his best buddy Kim and his great robot friend Markov. His family.

As the rest of the heroes stared in shock at the genius hero looking so defeated, Ladybug stood silently as she appeared apathetic to Max's outburst, merely glancing at him as she looked at her (former?) ally.

"You know what? Fine? If all of this is such a problem for you, then I'll find someone else who can take over for you. The akuma's defeated anyways." Ladybug said seriously, ignoring the shock from some of the more empathetic heroes. "Go to your rendevouz spot and wait for me. I'll come and pick up the Horse Miraculous from you. You're off the team."

Despite having no desire to be Pegasus in that moment, the callousness in Ladybug's statement caused Max to feel angry, his hand curling into a grip as he took a deep breathe in and out.

"You know what? No, I don't think I will." Max said simply, ignoring the shock on Ladybug's face as he turned around. "I'm tired, im exhausted, and I just want to go home. You know where I live, you can come and grab my Miraculous from my house once your done with the rest of your team. I'll take the express route home."

Voyage

With a simple word, Max created a portal beneath his feet, leaving to quickly for anyone to stop him or see where he ended up.

Max crashed into his bed. Quickly detrasnforming, he looked up from his bed to see Markov flying towards him.

"Oh hello Max! You look very tired!"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that buddy." Max replied.

"Oh no! You look upset, did something happen?"

As Max sat up from his bed, he began to recount his story as he changed from his normal outfit into his pyjama's. As Max sat down at the computer, he finished recounting this story to Markov.

"...And that's where I am now. So many other heroes got hurt and I'm worried that we won't be able to take another attack like that, but now Ladybug is mad at me and now I'm off the team! Sure, I don't have to be part of the battle, but it won't help when the next monster of the day suddenly levels Paris's city flat!"

"That sounds like a problem!" Markov replied. Though his emotion program was a bit simple, he felt a bit sad for his friend (and a bit angry at Ladybug, though not enough to trigger an akuma attack).

"Yeah, tell me about it. Not to mention that Hawkmoth is still out there, wherever he's hiding."

As Markov began to ponder how he could help his friends mood, a thought came to him.

"Perhaps we could solve this Hawkmoth issue ourselves."

"W-What? Markov I don't think thats possible. I mean, I am about to lose the Horse Miraculous once Ladybug finds me, I don't think we can do much against a magical supervillain."

"True, but as you said to Ladybug, fighting isn't doing us much good at the moment either. In order to stop the akuma's we need to solve the problem at the source. By all accounts, there's a 99% probability that Hawkmoth is a normal human adult outside of his costume. All we need to do is find out who Hawkmoth is and then we can catch him off guard to defeat him! Simple is it not?"

Max contemplated the idea, slowly nodding as he agreed with Markov. "That does seem like a good idea... but where can we start? It's not like we can just track down where he lives. Paris is huge!"

"So we will just have to go for the next two best things. His akumas and his victims! If we can track where those butteflies come from and where they are headed, we can follow them back to his lair!"

"His lair Markov?"

The robot nodded. "I don't remember much when I was Robustus, but I was able to recover a still image of Hawkmoth from his perspective! Apparently he has a huge lair from which he hides!"

"Wait, you had this the whole time? Why not tell anyone?"

"... I didn't think it was useful" Markov said embarrassingly.

Max decided to let it go though as he began to formulate an idea. "So... he sends his akuma's from a lair. So in order to find the lair we need to find the where the akuma's are flying from..."

Slowly, Max looked through his room. Scattered about were serveral drones, some of which were dismantled in order to create the shell for Markov's AI. If he could create a program to speciifically track down these akuma's...

His thought process was interrupted by a knock on his window, Max turned to see the window opened by an unimpressed Ladybug.

"Max"

"... Ladybug"

"the Horse Miraculous. Where is it?"

Wordlessly, Max gave her the box. Ignoring the look on her face, Max opened his laptop as he began to write a code on his laptop.

Ladybug contined to stare at him.

"You know, I was really hoping that you would have reconsidered your actions when I asked you to go to the rendevous point. I'm disappointed to see that I was proven wrong. Especially with that stunt you pulled."

Max continued to ignore her as he kept typing.

Ladybug sniffed her nose as she turned to leave. "Don't expect me to call you again ever. If this is how you are going to act when you are freaking out, then you don't deserve to be on this team."

Max never took his eyes off the computer, even as Markov stared angrily at Ladybug, wanting to say something but feeling like he should not interrupt. His eyes smiling as his code and his plan started to form together.

"Go ahead. Find someone else. Superhero work wasn't cut for me anyways. I'm much better when i'm using my brain anyways. I know what I need to do now. Besides, if being on the team means being treated that way, I'll pass. Last thing I need is to follow another Chloe."

Ladybug flinched, before leaving Max's room, yoyo flying in the distance.

Max didn't notice though. He had a plan.

One that would surely deal with this akuma plan once and for all.

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

Hi everyone! Hope you like this new idea i've had for a while now! Sorry if it feels rushed, I wrote this while feeling quite tired. I'm making plans for a part 2 and 3, but please let me know what you guys think!

[goldenroutledge]

when you reach me

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warning(s): main character death, grief, spiritual connection. this one’s pure angst.

summary: in which you mourn the love of your life.

jj maybank masterlist

Tears cloud your vision, preventing you from reading the words on the page. This is it, you think. The moment of closure you still haven’t allowed yourself to have, nothing but guilt clouding your mind since you left him. Not since you, supposedly the love of his life and the keeper of his secrets, abandoned him in Morocco. His worst fear in life come true in his death.

No matter what you tell yourself, it will never be enough. There’s not a single magic spell or genie in a bottle that could bring him back. There’s nothing– that’s good for you anyway– that will ease the pain of losing him. You remember the sadness and the frustration you felt watching him on the boat, drinking the days away because of a purpose he lost sight of. Now, that memory resonates with you more than ever. You know the feeling, it’s resignation.

The only thing that motivated you to pick up a pen and write was the fact that you owed it to him to send your feelings out there, somewhere into the universe. The tranquility of the water at night welcomed you from where you sat on the dock. You figured this would be one of the hardest places to be, overwhelming you with the reminder of what’s happened. You don’t need to be reminded, you can feel it. In every breath there’s an ache in your heart and a bruise to your bones. You can feel him here, ready and waiting to receive you. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to leaving flowers at a graveyard after all.

Rolling your letter, watching as the ink disappears with each movement of the paper is enough to make your throat swell and tears brim in your eyes. Sliding the message into the bottle is excruciating. Taking your deepest thoughts of him and sending them away. As if someone is stripping a child of their favorite toy, infringing on the emotional attachment they have to it. That’s exactly what this feels like, words in the shape of your heartstrings that you badly want to let go of, yet can’t help but stay close to. Until you remember, these words don’t belong to you. They belong to him, wherever he is. Gently, you press your lips to the bottle, giving a kiss goodbye to the metaphor it holds. JJ Maybank, your heart in human form once upon a time, is gone from your reach forever.

These waters are the closest thing you have now. When you look into them, only then can you remember the beautiful days you shared with him here, free of the anguish that locks your heart up in chains. The days of diving, swimming, kissing him in these waters, are long gone. A place where the world used to wait, where the moment would never end if you could have things your way. Setting the bottle free into these waters, you feel nothing but uncertainty that you’ll ever be the same. Watching the bottle float away and out of sight, you can’t help but wonder if he’s somewhere out there feeling the same thing.

-

‘I know I’ve waited a while to do this, JJ. I’m sorry. I’ve been in shock, in pain, angry enough to set the world on fire, numb enough to not feel the flames as they burn. You need to know that I’m sorry. I’m not who I used to be, I’m not the person you said you love with your last breath. I can’t be that person anymore after your killer released all of his hell and gave it to me. I can’t look in the mirror without seeing a shell of who I once was. I can’t take care of the others when I don’t remember how to take care of myself. I’m sorry that I have broken all of the promises between us. You wouldn’t want this for me and I don’t either. But here we are. Here I am really, it’s just me now. Sometimes I forget that, things should be different.

Someone asked me out on a date about a week ago, I felt like punching him in the face. If it weren’t for the others, I would have. If anything, they are taking care of me. I know you want me to be happy. For some people that means moving on, lighting a new torch with the one you carry for a past love. I’ve come to accept that I’m just not capable of that. What would make me happy about looking into another’s eyes and seeing yours? How could I feel safe from another’s touch if it isn’t yours? Our love made me believe that my heart could never break. I was wrong. I was so very wrong. Maybe that’s cynical of me, but I witnessed your life come to its end, I deserve to be. A part of my life ended, too.

I wish I could keep believing in everything that brought us together, but I can only remember everything that tore us apart. I hate it when people tell me that someday I’ll find love again. I do have someone I love, but not in a way that their eyes can see. They don’t understand that I don’t want to know a life without you. I’ve been told that each day gets a little better. They’re wrong. My heart breaks every day that life goes on without you. I loved you for practically your entire life, how am I supposed to be okay knowing that you loved me for only a part of mine? I don’t want to wake up one day and remember you only exist in my memory, that you’re only a shadow playing tricks on me.

I can’t make any promises to you. A part of me never wants to forgive you for leaving. The best I can do is thank you for showing me what it means to love someone, to know that I’m only one half of one soul. For giving me a reason to laugh and smile. It is because of these things, that makes you the reason why I scream and cry. There’s so much I wish you were here to do, so much I wish we could still do together. I miss you, JJ. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I’m trying to learn about who I am without you. I don’t know if I’ll ever find out, but please just know that I’m trying. Every morning I wake to an empty bed, every time I want to shatter the mirror in front of me, I keep trying. For you, I’ll never stop. You didn’t have a choice nor a chance, and I’d be damned if I didn’t take mine. I love you.’

Y/n

💌: had this in my drafts for months now, really ever since watching the obx 4 finale :,) it was nice while it lasted right? thanks for reading!

[just-a-girl-who-loves-tmr]

Head canons

Post death-cure, safe haven

Thomas, Newt, Newtmas

I warn you this post is very long so welcome to he inner workings of my brain and 3am

Thomas

- ADHD!! You can’t tell me I’m wrong (this is kinda canon but it’s never actually mentioned) Will hyper fixate on things and neglect his well being

- His eyes are hazel, but they go green in sunlight with a lil bit of gold- that’s why newt’s favourite colour is green because its Tommy’s eye colour in sunlight but he won’t admit it he just says it’s a nice colour

- The type of person who does puzzles for fun. Again he will hyper fixate on a puzzle or task and won’t rest until he’s finished (unless Newt drags him to bed which he has done many times)

- Wakes up at 5am to go on runs with Minho. Minho wakes him up because Thomas gets made if he doesn’t and feels unproductive

- Cold showers all the time- unless he’s showering with Newt, then they compromise because Newt likes hot showers

- Either he’s extremely smart or extremely stupid. There is no in between. He could be going on about diffusion and the movement of particles between galaxies but then he doesn’t know how to tie his own shoe lace without making a huge knot he can never undo.

- He has extreme survivors guilt from everything happened to the point where he has panic attacks because of it. He always feels so guilty for helping WICKED, which of course no one blames him for but he always feels like he betrayed them and on the worst days he feels like he deserved to die for helping them hurt his friends.

Newt

- my baby has separation anxiety (I’m sorry!!) he constantly needs reassurance that the others still like him and especially from Thomas after they get together (which happens I will not be told otherwise) that Thomas still loves him and isn’t going to leave him

- This is also because some of the other treat him differently after he was cured- sometimes treating him like he’s fragile and delicate which Newt hates- he fears that the others don’t trust him and feels like he’s not cured and he’s going to snap and hurt them

- Being sick is also a huge trigger for him- he has a weaker immune system than the others due to the fact that he isn’t immune like they are so he gets sick a lot more often- even if its just a cold he gets super on edge, constantly checking his arms and pulse to make sure he’s still himself

- Thomas is always a help during these periods when Newt is anxious and sick, reminding Newt that he’s cured and that he won’t leave him alone. He makes Newt tea and gives him loads of attention- which Newt doesn’t love at first because he’s independent and thinks he can do it himself until Thomas puts him arms around him and kisses him softly and tells him that he loves him, then Newt just melts

- Convinced he has an acoustic guitar because my sister mentioned to me once that he would suit it and I cannot get the idea out my head. He would play it super well and use it to take his mind off things when his brain gets hectic. He doesn’t like playing in front of people because he gets kinda self conscious when everyone’s looking at him but he plays for Thomas when they’re alone and Thomas can’t take his eyes off him because he looks so beautiful.

- He still writes a lot, journaling, poetry, little stories he makes up. It’s kind of like a therapy thing for him when he gets stressed out and he doesn’t want to talk about it he just writes it down. He occasionally lets Thomas read snippets of his poetry and writing and Thomas loves it. Also loves reading so he and Thomas read together until Thomas gets bored and lays on Newt’s chest while Newt reads to him and plays with him hair

Newtmas

- Nicknames>>> Newt calls Thomas things like Tommy, Love, Darling etc. Thomas calls Newt things like Babe, Baby, angel etc.

- They both get anxious about the other one overworking, Thomas gets worried about Newt’s leg because Newt insists on working a lot to make up for the time he couldn’t work while he was recovering. Thomas knows Newt is okay and that he is independent and capable of doing it himself but he still makes sure Newt takes breaks and massages it for him to take the pain away. Newt gets nervous that Thomas is running too much and not eating enough because Thomas feels like he’s obligated to do it and he needs to do his part, but Newt in turn, makes him take breaks and makes sure he’s eating enough etc

- They are so touch starved when they get to the safe haven they are practically hanging off each other, constantly touching in some way. They’re walking? They’re holding hands. They’re sitting? They are pressed against each other’s side if not on the other’s lap. They’re sleeping? They’re cuddling. It’s little things as first just as they’re getting used to being able to touch each other affectionately whenever they want to but they get comfortable very quickly because they are so familiar with each other.

- To everyone else , Thomas is always the talker and Newt is the listener. Thomas always has something to talk about, literally anything on his mind he yap about to Newt and Newt listens because he loves listening to Thomas babbling about this and that. Everyone else agrees that Newt is the quiet one but god forbid when they’re alone Newt does not shut up. He doesn’t talk as much in large groups but as soon as it’s just him and Thomas he talks and talks about anything and everything that he’s been keeping to himself all day. He gets kind of embarrassed about it when he realises how much he’s said but Thomas loves listening to him talk especially when it’s something he’s passionate about.

- Newt’s limp okay. Newt is very independent and hates the idea that he needs help to get around or that he needs to rely on other people’s support but Thomas always talks him down when Newt’s leg is sore. He protests at first but all Thomas has to do is look at him with his big brown eyes and place a gently hand on Newt’s thigh and Newt gives in. Thomas makes sure Newt rests his leg, carrying him everywhere just to hear Newt whine that he can do it himself but still cling to him, burying his face into the brunet’s hair.

- Thomas has also perfected to making of tea and prides himself in making to tea every time he’s sad or in pain. He always gives the cup a kiss first, he did as a joke first claiming that it tastes better when it’s made with love but now it’s a must do and Newt complains that it doesn’t taste the same if Thomas doesn’t give it a kiss first

Thank you for listening to me yap <3 I’m thinking of doing Ivy trio + Minho separately headcanons so let me know what you think

Ily guys <33

[anotheroceanid]

Apollo’s family thinks he’s delusional, and I can’t help but wonder; he might actually be delusional, it just so happens that his delusions are right! I wonder how he’ll react when he first gets to meet one of his sons🤔

I can see the others trying to be supportive and offer their condolences but Apollo is all “No, no, no, I was right! I told you Percy was expecting my kid! I told you!” And Hermes and Artemis thinks he’s sunken even deeper into his delusions because there’s no way that’s Apollo’s kid, the timelines don’t match at all!

Apollo could either realize the time delay, after all, time moves differently in many magical places. Not only in the Lotus Hotel and Casino, or he is delusional and his delusions just happens to be right somehow yet again!

If he had a nickel for every time he’d deluded himself into the right conclusion, he’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s not the weirdest thing that it happened twice!😅

You don’t happen to have a hint as to what the synopsis of chapter 8 will be?

(Real fitting that Apollo’s chapter was number 7)

Apollo ted talk: being delusional helped me through the worst part of my life

Hmmm… well, out of context spoilers I can give you

[homestuckreplay]

In Another Timeline, I Found A Good Title For This Post

(page 1196-1219; timeline theories)

The pacing of this intermission is kind of unbelievable – double digit pages for the past five days in a row. With that, all four members of the Midnight Crew have been introduced, so I’ve put together this quick table showing some of the patterns we’ve seen so far. About 75% of the time I spent making this was researching hat styles.

Page 1211 was the moment I really bought into this intermission. Up til now it’s been fun, but I have been missing the beta kids. But ‘You're gonna jump to a timeline where he's dead’ has really grabbed me, because this is new – as far as we know, Acts 1-3 took place in a single timeline, where loops are closed and everything’s stable. Now, the possibilities are anything. Calling it now that we’ll learn in Act 4 that a critical earlier event actually happened in a different timeline to everything else.

Also the two of spades turning into Slick’s licorice scottie dogs between panels is a really good bit. It ALMOST makes up for the ‘jack king off’ joke on page 1197, which is probably the worst joke in Homestuck so far.

This page is another highlight! Slick literally did build this town, and it looks totally different from the green-tinged complex architecture of now. I guess this is the flaw in Die’s powers – he can travel to a timeline where somebody is dead, but he can’t choose which one. He’s equally likely to get a timeline where Slick died today as one where Slick died before ever building the town. And maybe more importantly… this page looks kind of like a color switched version of page 248, another wasteland with a city in the distance (although this new one has other planets circling overhead).

So, most likely, Spades Slick and Jack Noir are versions of the same character from different timelines, and that’s why they’re not aware of each other. In the HS timeline, the character becomes a prominent agent of the dark kingdom, while in the MC timeline, he becomes an underground criminal/architect/construction worker on a planet that probably isn’t Earth, and might not even be in the Incipisphere. A city planner would fit right in with WV, PM and AR’s civic infrastructure theme. So the question is, what determines if a NPC leaves the game and returns to the outside universe? And does this mean Jack Noir could also leave, go to Earth, and be the future character who starts off in Dave’s location and flies to join the other three?

It does seem significant that on what’s apparently an alien planet, there is so much human paraphernalia. As well as the Crosbytop and Foxworthy photo, Deuce has a Stretch Armstrong doll. Surely this planet has its own celebrities to draw from. Alchemy still seems likely – Dave definitely has the components in this house to alchemize this doll. And there is a strong suggestion that appearification and sendification could work between planets or into/out of the Incipisphere – page 733 gives a good look at the screen on WV’s appearifier, which could be adjusted to the Incipisphere with the right key. That key isn’t Slick’s spade key, but someone has it. Maybe Snowman or Lord English or Diamonds Droog (who seems a fair bit more competent than Slick). And obviously we know there’s lots of Skaian technology on Earth, but it’s now possible there could be items from this other alien planet, too. Say, rocket boards.

And as a final red string theory (‘Red Strings’ title of DD’s magazine??), Boxcars hypothesizes that ‘you've got to alter the flow of time itself’ to open the Felt’s safe (p.1218). This is a story where one specific time of day has been really important, and has come up over and over again, and now there’s a whole mansion and group of previously unknown characters whose whole deal is controlling and changing time – among other things, these people can decide when it is 4:13 and when it isn’t. Clock faces are the same on this planet as they are on Earth, and the current time is 12:13pm – also the time on Jade’s island at the start of Act 3, for what it’s worth – and Boxcars’ plan to blow up this very important clock feels significant when we know that some places are outside the flow of time of the universe, AND there’s multiple timelines here, which could potentially converge if time is otherwise stopped.

I’m out here getting my head all tangled over this timeline stuff, but the Midnight Crew are not at all. Droog, especially, has this ‘just another day at the office’ familiarity with time travel. He and his crew don’t engage in it at all, but they know what’s up, and it’s no different to knowing what type of disguise or getaway car a rival gang uses. What a fucking idiot, they’ve totally given themself away with this ‘punching me from the future’ move yet again. This moment on page 1203 looks like a stable loop, even if nothing else is – Deuce has arrived after being radioed for backup, and Droog’s trail leads up the stairs, where we know he went after being punched.

Droog and Deuce are both great characters. Droog is like the second in command who’s actually way more competent than the leader. He has clear parallels with Dad Egbert, sort of Dad’s dark mirror, with the same attention to suits and to backup versions of his clothes. Dad also has multiple backup hats, although some are in different styles (p.72), multiple backup pipes, and lots of identical shoes and ties (p.948). We haven’t actually seen a DD analog on the ominous planet – only SS (p.953) and HB (p.957) – so either Dad is going to meet this DD analog, befriend him and be sheltered by him now that he’s escaped prison, OR (more compelling), he’s going to disguise himself as an ominous citizen and BECOME the DD analog in the HS timeline.

As for CD, I just think he’s neat. I love that he’s wearing two hats and one of them is a bomb.

[starwarskawaii]

Annoyance and Empanadas

A Miguel O'Hara fic

Alright, here's that Miguel fic. Dedicated to Lan ( @chaithetics ) for always believing in and encouraging me. Proofread by my husband, @kitsunot . So if I made a mistake, blame him.

A/N: This is self-serving, reader is HEAVILY based on me. No word count because I am lazy.

Edit: possible part 2 if you guys like this one. So make sure to let me know!

CW: disabled reader, possible slightly ooc Miguel, mentions of Miguel's *gestures at his life*, no use of Y/N, second person voice, mentions of mobility aids, disability is not specified but is highly based on my experiences with fibromyalgia, female reader, mentions of brain fog, mentions of safe foods, reader is slightly implied to be autistic, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING

You were annoying. Not annoying like Peter B, who always had a quip and lacked boundaries. Not annoying like Miles, who questioned Miguel constantly. Not even annoying like Hobie, although you were a bit of an anarchist. The first thing you had ever said to Miguel was, "I support women's rights and women's wrongs. I do not, however, support men's rights OR men's wrongs, so I hope you've improved." No, you weren't annoying like any of them. You were annoying like Lyla. You were annoying because you knew him. You knew him entirely too well. Which was quite possibly the worst kind of annoying you could be.

You sauntered in on your purple forearm crutches, thinking of what you could say to piss Miguel off. As much as you'd like to pretend you were a quick thinker, the brain fog made it near impossible to come up with anything on the fly. So as you sauntered in, you thought of what you could do to make those veins pop on his neck and forehead. You liked those veins.

Miguel heard you coming. How could he not? Mobility aids are not stealthy. Not in the least. Miguel knew what was coming, and he braced himself for whatever quip you had up your sleeve. Your quips were worse than a Peter Parker's; you had studied him. You came from a universe Miguel stumbled on accidentally. A world where he and all the other Spiders were just characters in comics and movies. And you happened to be Miguel O'Hara's number one fan (and biggest hater, somehow simultaneously). You had made tons of posts analyzing him on some site, tumbling, maybe? He couldn't remember. He brought you on for a few reasons, but mainly to help the algorithms predict events in the Spider's lives.

"Ohhh, Miiiiiggy!" Came your voice, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What? I'm a bit busy, you know, " came his reply.

"Too busy for me, Migs?" You pouted and batted your lashes. You knew he couldn't resist that.

Miguel was surprised. No quips yet. That's a first.

"Too busy brooding to listen to your favorite right-hand woman?" There it was. There was the jibe at him. You loved doing that. You were probably worse than Lyla.

Lyla popped up and snickered "He was just brooding, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Migs, my love, would you care to tell me why the caf has no empanadas?"

"Aye, you came here to interrupt my ensuring the fate of the Arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse over an empanda?"

"They're your recipe, we all know they're the best in the multiverse" you reasoned with him.

"They're my mother's recipe, technically, and I'll make you some when I take you home." Miguel always took you home. You had a lot of issues with the stupid 2099 high-tech stuff, and it also required use of at least one hand, something you rarely had the luxury of, unless it was a no mobility aid or a wheelchair day. So Miguel made sure you were safe.

"Fine, fine. When are you taking me home, speaking of? Should I just wait here, or should I try to navigate the awful upside down maze you created while I wait for your self-imposed penance for the day to end?" Man you were annoying. Man you knew him well.

"I'll finish up soon. Wait here," his face softened as he looked over at you. You were making yourself comfortable on a chair, placing your aids to the side and getting into that position you liked to sit in. The one that seemed uncomfortable, but you swore was best for your hypermobile joints.

You reminded him a lot of Lyla. Lyla, who Xina had programmed to heckle him. Lyla, who he never had the heart to reprogram. You knew all his buttons. Just like Lyla. Just like Xina... You were also like Gwen. He had initially seen you as much more like Gwen. You had a baby face, so he had assumed you were younger. You had half-shaved hair, which you had actually gotten done because of some singer in your dimension, the year before Spiderverse came out. You had always loved Gwen Stacy, though. It wasn't hard to see why. You were smart, you liked nerds, you were incredibly confident, you were kind of punk, but also hilariously materialistic, not in a fancy clothes way but in a "I have to have this figure or I will cry" way. You were a lot like the Gwen of 120703. You loved that Gwen.

You were very different from all of them, though. He remembered stumbling upon your dimension by accident. A dimension where there were no heroes. A dimension where there were somehow still supervillains. A dimension where, even when faced with a lack of heroes, some people still had hope. You were one of them. He had initially infantalized you. Your mobility aids, your interests, the baby face, the fact that you clearly needed a caregiver, but stubbornly lived on your own all made him see you as younger than you were. You had had many arguments before he finally realized how capable you are. That you're tougher than most Spiders are, save for Sun Spider, who has EDS (you LOVED Sun Spider). That you deal with 24/7 full body pain, work a full-time job, and somehow manage to take care of yourself.

You had shown him so much. Like punk versions of him that you thought were hot. He hated them. He hated that you found that attractive. It made him question for a moment if his appearance was alright. Of course, you would like piercings and tattoos. You had multiple of each. He never really thought much of it before. You had shown him art of him pregnant. You both hated that one. He had learned so much about you. In a way, he had become the caregiver you needed. He made sure you ate, he popped into your dimension to help with your laundry, he helped you on low mobility days, he cooked for you, he helped you set up appointments and refill meds when your brain just wouldn't cooperate. He admired you. He thought you were incredibly strong. He made you empanadas because they're a safe food for you. He secretly loved the way you loved his cooking.

You cared for him. Really, truly, deeply cared. You had listened to his pain and felt it like it was your own. You were so empathetic. He realized that your disabilities and baby face and your being a few years younger didn't matter at all. You were more mature than he was. You knew pain, you lived with pain, you had lost so much and had dealt with it a long time ago. You helped him pick apart his mind, healing what had been broken by grief. He had spent so many nights sitting on the floor of your apartment, next to your couch, pouring his heart out to you. The girl who had fan art of him up on her walls. He was pretty sure he loved you, but too worried he was confusing gratefulness for that painful emotion he hadn't felt in so long that he couldn't bring himself to say anything. You were in love. How could you not be? He let you see him so vulnerable. He was also 6'9, built like a tank, perfect dark skin and hair, newly emotionally open, and had clearly come to genuinely respect you, in a way you struggled to find as a disabled woman. You were much less subtle about your feelings than he was. You flirted constantly. But he was as dense as his muscles.

"Alright, I'm done, cariño," Miguel said. "Time to go back to your dimension, and get you some food. Did you actually eat today?"

"Uhhhh, what answer do you want to that?" You said, only half joking, with a nervous laugh.

"You'll be the death of me, hermosa"

He was used to the quips. He was used to the forgetting to eat. He was used to it all, and he hoped it could stay that way. Miguel O'Hara loved how you annoyed him. And he hoped you would continue to, for at least as long as Lyla has.

[haleigh-sloth]

But which one do u prefer isagi getting worse or getting better

I think my heart truly just wants Isagi to continue being the shining light that he's been described as. One of the entertaining things about the manga I've enjoyed a LOT is watching Isagi just be Some Guy playing soccer and watching everyone do one of two things: be inspired and use that as a catalyst for change OR be fucking insane and use that as a catalyst for becoming self-destructive and miserable.

I was going back and forth on which route the story would take, but then I saw translated answers from a recent panel Kaneshiro did where he mentioned some things about the next arc, one of which including Isagi and Sae "teaming up". So I'm unsure how Isagi "getting worse" could contribute to that.

But I'm preparing myself for multiple possibilities. I'm less convinced of Isagi "getting worse" in the sense that he becomes an insufferable asshole (he's already done that and been called out on it point blank and reflected and changed his attitude--so revisiting that would be stupid and redundant) and I'm more convinced of Isagi facing a similar problem to all the other characters in Blue Lock where he focuses a little too much on winning and loses sight of what brings him joy from playing soccer. Like yes winning feels good and that's what started his story--being devastated about not winning. But he also plays soccer because he loves it! And I do think the development in the current arc shows that he may be losing sight of that a little, which is okay. He's gotta go through some internal conflict at some point, and that's the most likely and most reasonable conflict I see. Him saying "I'll just be a tool without emotions and feelings so we can win" is not like, the worst development ever, because he's even said he wants to see what happens if he views himself as a machine on the field focused on victory and not worry about who scores what goals. This is just one of his many experiments on how to overcome obstacles on the field, it's not really any different from previous arcs.

HOWEVER--the difference between now and previous arcs is his environment. Kaiser for one, creating a hellish environment for Isagi and forcing him to explore his ego in different ways and see what makes him win. Kaiser is also a self-serving dick, and so Isagi just dished out what he'd been taking from Kaiser the whole time. And now they're both just setting all that aside to win, which to me is whatever, it's fine. Kaiser has issues and some soul searching to do but that's nothing to really do with Isagi anymore since he somewhat overcame that obsessive behavior toward Isagi.

To me the one factor that would really shake things up and make Isagi act differently from previous arcs is Rin. Rin is really desperate and falling really low and showing no signs of getting over this obsession with Isagi. He and Isagi both view each other as this impenetrable wall that they can't break through or climb over. I'm seeing Isagi still focus on beating Rin and I COULD see Isagi carrying that a little more than usual in future matches and making it harder for him to remember why he's playing soccer in the first place. He said he let go of his rivalry toward Rin but then right before teaming up with Kaiser he said "I can still beat Rin". So clearly neither of them are willing to let this rivalry go. I think Isagi is absorbing Rin's feelings (which are just really intense and out of proportion to reality--which is why this particular rivalry isn't great) and letting them affect him a little more than previous obstacles he's faced.

So I'm prepared for the route where Isagi is still the way he is, Rin gets worse on his own and eventually needs help and Isagi being the shining light that he is breaks through to Rin the way he did everyone else. Then I'm also prepared for the route where Isagi can't really break away from Rin (because Rin won't leave him alone) and he kind of spirals alongside Rin and before we know it they both need help and both need to be reminded of why soccer is important to them.

Also important to note that Isagi has reasons for playing soccer that feed his ego and bring him joy, which is good. He might just need to remember. Rin on the other hand has never really had that from the beginning. He'll take a lot more work and effort from everyone around him to pull him back up.

Short answer: I'd prefer Isagi staying fine, but I don't hate him getting worse, because if he does he won't be the only one (thanks Rin!).