#also yes i did have to make this post to get rid of the 'special number' so that i wasn't hesitant to make any other posts

[starflungwaddledee]

a thousand posts!! a lot of these are of course reblogs of other people's work as well, but it's still a very fun and exciting milestone to me!!

i didn't know how long i'd be in this community when i first joined because i'd never been in a fandom before and didn't really know what to expect! i kinda thought my content might flop entirely because it's so story oriented and i'm not good at Cool Dynamic Poster Art! but folks on kirblr interacted with my work so kindly and encouragingly that it was immediately such a pleasant place to be!

i've met some truly incredibly people here! generous and creative, thoughtful and talented.

the interest in original storytelling and starstruck in particular also blew me away, i'd heard fandom is generally not that interested in OCs but this one seems to really care about and support them! i'm touched folks have cared about mine!!

this a wonderful community and i'm grateful for the opportunity to be here!

[mayo-is-an-instrument]

I made a boo oc!! I'll make more drawings to use them for when I start making "serious" YouTube videos :3

[dexteri0us]

now i’m breathin' like i’m runnin' 'cause you're taking me there; don’t you know you spin me out of control?

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: reader is a freak, mentions of corpses, smut - dom!dexter (but he's soft<3), sir kink, oral (f and m receiving), some slapping, some pussy slapping, bondage, knife play, brush play, wartenberg wheel (all sterilized of course).

summary: you, being an annoying girlfriend, and dexter, being an incredible boyfriend. (be careful though, he might as well just off you one day if you keep asking for it).

w/c: around 7,280

a/n: no pun intended. if i forgot any warnings, let me know, my brain is kinda fried

Dexter hadn’t exactly told you that he was a killer. A murderer, a criminal, or whatever label fit his particular shade of darkness. But he also never denied it when your insinuations crept too close to the truth. He knew that you knew, and that was enough for you. Knowing that he was okay with that was enough for you. Well, until recently.

He’d given you a blurry picture of what he did to his victims. Not because he offered it, but you had a knack for prodding, especially when you sensed he was buttered up just enough. You knew a crime scene or a sample of blood brought a smile to his face, but you didn’t exactly have that kind of power to bring those things to him. You found your own ways to make Dexter smile. Leaving a post-it note on his coffee machine that read “Kill the day”. Buying him a new shirt for work or a romantic dinner. Making him a playlist for his late-night boat rides. Or you’d plan a quiet night with nature docs to stimulate his intellect.

And if you were feeling bold, you’d cook. Well, try to cook. Homemade pizza was your speciality. Your best and only. Dexter never complained, though, always giving you a small, approving nod as he chewed slowly.

Still, he didn’t give you the exact answers either. He might roll his eyes, sigh heavily, or offer a cryptic one-word response, but you could always tell when you’d hit the nail on the head.

“Do you have a special place where you do it? Like a basement or something?”

Roll of his eyes. No.

“Do you ever regret it? Like, afterward?”

No.

“Do you stalk them?”

Side eye. Yes.

“Do you talk to them first? Like, try to scare them or mess with their heads:”

...Yes?

You played this game as if it was the most normal thing in the world, without batting an eye. It was fun for you until you headed in an unpleasant direction of the questions.

“Does it get messy? What do you use to clean up? What about their clothes? Do you get them naked before getting rid of the body?”

Yes.

Oh. “…Before killing them?”

Yes.

The wheels in your head began to turn, your thoughts spiraling into uncharted territory. “Even the women?”

Yes.

Huh. Suddenly, the game wasn’t so fun anymore. You didn’t know how you felt about that. You pictured the men and women you didn’t know, beautiful, vulnerable, dead. It was stupid to feel jealous of corpses, but you couldn’t help it. It clawed at you.

For a while, you stopped asking questions. Not because you didn’t want to know, but because you were too distracted by the answers you’d already gotten. And maybe you were afraid of what else you’d uncover.

If you were jealous of them before, now that jealousy skyrocketed into different dimensions.

You were in the middle of baking banana bread, working the batter longer than necessary. It was your fourth loaf this week, and you’d already had to give a few away to Deb and Joey, because you weren’t capable of eating all of it.

You were happy that Deb and Joey appreciated it because Dexter didn’t even like banana bread that much. He ate it because you made it. Which was sweet. But still, he seemed to enjoy talking to naked strangers more than eating your baked goods.

What the fuck is his problem?

“Another banana bread?” Dexter’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You know, it’s gonna lose its sweetness if you keep mixing all the frustration into it.”

Normally, you’d snort at the deadpan delivery of his stupid joke, but now was really not the time to remind you of the mood you were trying to suppress.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked is all seriousness now, coming over to you and leaning one hip against the counter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your focus on the batter. “Okay, you’re not. What can I do?” he asked, waiting patiently for you to open up.

“Nothing.”

He stood there and you felt his eyes on you, probably trying to read you. You still didn’t acknowledge him, but his presence pressed against you and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. He knew better than to push; it would only make you more frustrated, but he wasn’t one to just walk away either. Besides, he knew you’d crack eventually. And you did, dropping the spatula into the bowl and turning to face him.

“Why don’t you like my banana bread?”

He squinted his eyes, trying to decide if you were joking or not.

“I like your banana bread. Just… an appropriate amount. Not five loaves in a week.”

“Four,” you corrected.

“Five,” he countered, not missing a beat. “You made two yesterday, one on Monday and one on Wednesday.”

Shit, he was right. But could he blame you? He was driving you nuts. Well, you were driving yourself nuts, but it was because of him!

“Hey, I know my brain is limited, but is that really what’s bothering you? Will you help me out, or should I try to piece it together on my own?” he said softly.

He always did that, giving you space but never giving up on saving you from the sea of worrisome thoughts, never ignoring your closed off behavior. He’d always told you that you were like a puzzle to him. And he claimed he liked puzzles.

But you didn’t want to be a puzzle this time. You knew keeping him guessing wouldn't be healthy, so you spilled it out. You told him about your stupid insecurity and the stupid jealousy, the anger and frustration that boiled over when he told you about how he stripped his victims naked. And he couldn’t have had a more baffled expression on his face

For the first time, he told you a little bit about his hobby without you having to pull it from him. He reassured you that there was no sexual motivation behind it whatsoever. None. That the people he killed were disgusting and vile human beings who didn’t deserve even the faintest semblance of intimacy. Well, not that kind of intimacy. They deserved nothing but to die.

“I promise,” he said as he brushed his thumb over your cheek, “the only body I admire is yours. It’s an unhealthy obsession, really. Unhealthier than the other one.”

And with that, he finally made you laugh and roll your eyes at him. You gave him a playful shove, making him smile as you turned back to your batter. He moved closer one more time, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. As he stepped back, he gave your triceps a playful pinch, leaving you to your baking.

You didn’t have a reason not to trust him. Even though he held onto a big secret, he never outright lied. He just never told you the whole truth, and you respected that. He’d told you it was better this way, something about plausible deniability. And yes, you made it a little hard for him, but what can you say, you were nosy.

Later that night, he went out of his way to worship your body, to prove that you were truly his number one obsession. He looked you in the eye as he fucked you, making you see how you made him feel and showing you every ounce of devotion he had for you. When he put his tongue on you, he didn’t stop eating your pussy until you had to push him away.

Afterward, you lay on your stomach while Dexter rested beside you, propped on one elbow, his other hand tracing invisible shapes on your back.

He let you guess what he drew or wrote with his fingers, and you both giggled when you guessed something ridiculous when he drew something completely simple. It was your favorite kind of peace, lying in his arms, your warm skin against his. You almost couldn’t believe that these same arms were capable of something else.

It wouldn’t be you if you weren’t greedy, though. And sometimes, when your mood was just right, that greed turned you into a bit of a brat.

You were on your way from the farmer’s market, the basket of fresh carrots and strawberries balanced on your lap as Dexter focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel.

You were just telling him how you wanted to have a garden of your own one day, grow your own fruits and veggies, maybe even have a little flock of chickens.

“Can you imagine? You’d have fresh eggs for breakfast every morning, and I could make you a fruit salad to take to work.”

He glanced over, just briefly, before fixing his eyes back on the road. “You’d want me to share that with you?”

You felt a small tug of your heart. It made you reach out to gently tug the short hair behind his ear. He liked that. He’d said it was soothing when you played with his hair, especially around the ears, and you made a mental note to do more of it later tonight.

“Dex, you’re stuck with me. You’ll need to kill me to get rid of me,” you joked and he shot you a look, but you giggled at your own quip.  

Truthfully, it broke your heart sometimes, the way he thought so little of himself. Sure, he was confident, sometimes even a little too sure of his skills, and it could momentarily turn him into a smug asshole. But you worried that he’d never feel how loved he actually was. How many people cared about him.

Before you could spiral too far into those thoughts, his phone buzzed. He was being called to a scene, and he initially wanted to drop you off at home, but you convinced him there was no point. It was literally on the way, and you could just wait in the car.

“Alright,” he said as he gathered his things, “half an hour, tops.” You nodded and he stepped out of the car.

You watched him work from the car, though you could barely make him out through the crowd of people that gathered at the scene. Still, you admired how focused and precise he was, the way he was handling the camera and the lifeless body.

It was impossible not to think about how those same hands had touched you, traced every curve and dip of your skin. Fuck, you were sick. He was professionally documenting death for Christ's sake.

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere, wondering if he handled them with the same care. So, once you were back on the road, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You know, I thought of a way you could prove your ‘obsession’ with my body.”

He paused, glancing at you with furrowed brow, confused. “I thought we were past that.”

“Well, you know, it does something to a girl, knowing her boyfriend’s hobby involves working with naked bodies.”

“I can’t believe that that’s what bothers you about this whole situation.”

You shrugged, letting the silence hang for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you have in mind?”

“I want to experience it.”

“'It'. Try to be a little more specific.”

“You know… the setup. Like, a roleplay kinda thing. You’ll be you, and I’ll be your victim. Or like a 'draw me like one of your french girls' kinda situation."

You honestly thought that it was a good idea, but you just proved to him how much little you understood about the whole serial killer thing, which he let you know quite candidly.

Don’t get me wrong, he adored you, but he didn’t have a problem with calling you out on your stupidity and reminding you how close you sometimes got to crossing lines you didn’t fully understand. That’s what made your relationship great.

“First of all, why would you think they are French?" he asked, confused by the movie reference, but you jusrt rolled your eyes. "And second of all, I actually wonder whether it’s you or me who’s sick in the head here,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he went on to tell you that it wasn't a fucking game that you played. He is a serial killer. “I actually like your body intact.”

“But you wouldn’t actually –”

“No.”

“Come on, wouldn’t you like to see me all tied up, immobilized, completely at your mercy?”

His jaw tightened just slightly before he answered. Oh?

“No. End of discussion.”

“Fine,” you groaned with a sigh, sinking back into your seat like a scolded child, your fingers idly tracing the ridges of the basket in your lap.

You wanted to be petty about it but instead, you decided to be on your best behavior. The reason? You’d definitely gotten into his head. You didn’t know if he’d started fantasizing about you like that, or if he was coming to the realization that you might actually need a psychiatric evaluation. You hoped it was the former, so when you caught him lost in thought, his gaze lingering on you as if he were in a trance, you resisted the urge to poke the bear, only sending a sweet smile his way.

The sex had gotten more… intense. Also more frequent, and you had a theory that it correlated with his early returns from his hunts. He never seemed to be satisfied, always came home frustrated with himself and he took it out on you. He’d take you against the nearest surface he could find; the couch, the kitchen counter, even the floor. You thought there wasn’t a single surface in his apartment that wasn’t defiled.

Once, when he’d gotten home before you, he threatened to take you outside in the external corridor where his neighbors could see and hear everything. Well, you wouldn’t mind, but he was a flying-under-the-radar kind of guy.

Either way, you’d struck a chord. And while you still hadn’t gotten exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed the way he’d been lately.

You just got out of shower, slipped into your pajamas and plopped onto the couch, turning on some white noise on your phone as you pulled out some notes for your upcoming exam. No, you weren’t capable of studying after you changed into your sleeping attire, but it was better than doing nothing.

Your eyes skimmed mindlessly across the words when you heard the door unlock, revealing Dexter in his khaki henley and cargos. You greeted him with a smile, sending him into kitchen where his take-out was, before turning your head back to your notes.

You didn’t register him moving closer to you, until you felt the nylon of a cuff around your wrist.

“What the fuck?” you murmured and looked at your wrist. It wasn’t your first time he used bondage on you, of course, but this was weird. You tugged instinctively at the chain, but his firm grip on the other buckle didn’t allow you much movement. “Dex, I don’t have time for this now.”

“My victims don’t really get to pick when their time is up.”

You looked at him, the confusion apparent on your face, but then when you locked eyes with him, it started to gradually dawn on you. Your eyes flicked from his face, to his clothes, to the chain around your wrist.

Was this what you thought it was? You didn’t want to celebrate too early.

And just like that, Dexter gave a sharp tug on the chain, pulling you to your feet.

“The first thing that usually happens,” he began, leading you to the bedroom, “is the weight of their tranquilized bodies pulls them to the ground.”

Before you could react, he slammed the door shut behind you and in one swift motion, your back hit the hard wood. Your other wrist was caught and cuffed too, the chain between them yanked taut as he raised your arms above your head, hooking the chain on the hook mounted on the door, leaving you stertched out.

It was too high and the position forced you onto your tiptoes, your whole body arching and making your ass press firmly against the door.

Dexter grabbed your jaw and kissed you aggressively, your teeth clanking against each other and your tongues tangling together, making your mixed saliva drip down your chin.

He looked at you with that signature intensity, eyes hooded and plush lips parted slightly. His hot breath fanned across your chin as he spread the spit over your cheek and jawline, massaging it into your skin.

You admired the way his hair curled at his forehead and around his ears, it gave him this innocent vibe that put him into contrast with those strong features of his face.

Then he kissed you again, this time more softly, snaking his arm into the space between the door and your arched back, pressing himself against you and making you feel the hardness in his cargo pants. His hand slid lower, over the curve of your lower back, slipping beneath your shirt to cup your ass firmly. His fingers kneaded your flesh before grasping the hem of your panties and tugging up, the fabric pressing tightly against your pussy.

The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, the cloth stimulating your clit as he gave it individual tugs. You whimpered into his mouth, your body writhing against him even though it was almost physically impossible. To amplify the pleasure, Dexter's thigh slid between your legs, the textured fabric of his cargos creating a delicious sensation.

When he was satisfied with the wet spot you created on his pants, he dropped to his knees. He teased you some more, licking along the hem of your panties, placing wet kisses on your thighs and burying his nose against your heat, telling you how good you smell.

“Dex,” you whined. Your cunt screamed for release as well as your strained arms. You wanted nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against his mouth until the dam broke.

He had told you before that his face was made for you to sit on. Once, Deb had jokingly called him a chair, which turned out to be a thought her therapist had passed on to her. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the nights when he made you sit on his cock as he went over his subjects. He blindfolded you each time, naturally.

And from the look on your face, Deb knew instantly where your thoughts had gone, and said that she didn’t need that mental image in her head. You both laughed about it later. Honestly, you two loved sharing your sexcapades with each other.

Dexter found out through Quinn, because of course Deb would share, especially if you gave her inspiration. And he couldn't resist taking a jab at Dexter.

“I didn’t know you were such an animal, Dex,” Joey had told him with that smug grin of his.

Dex had given you an earful about how you had kind of compromised his privacy. It was only a matter of time until Masuka learned about this, and he was already exasperating. Dexter was afraid Masuka would take it as a shared hobby, something they could finally, really talk about with passion, like two guys. Ugh, the thought alone made him uncomfortable already.

But you'd told him that Deb was your best friend, and that girlfriends just had to talk about this stuff.

“It’s like therapy.”

“Don’t you say that about sex too?”

“Depends on the circumstances. Besides, it’s good for tips. You should thank her. If you thought making me squirt was all your talent, think again.”

After that, you made a deal not to bring up your sex club discussions in front of Dexter, and Deb made Quinn promise he wouldn’t say a word in front of Vince.

However, you did joke about the chair thing often, because he did provide the best seat in the house, whether it was his lap or his face.

But this time, he wasn't giving it up so easily. He wanted to make you earn it, but you couldn’t do anything except to wait.

When he finally did put his tongue on you, he didn’t take your panties off. He made you cum with them on, licking your clit over your panties, sometimes brushing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves before sliding to your hole and pushing against the cloth, to the point your underwear became uncomfortable from how soaked it was with your cum.

Then he finally pushed your panties aside, the wet material sticking to your skin. He shuffled closer, his forehead grazing your stomach and his hair tickling your skin as he looked down at you, sliding his fingers through your folds and over your sensitive clit. you begged him to make you cum again, thinking he’d finally eat you out properly, but he just used his fingers.

He stayed on his knees for a while, admiring your shiny pussy and grazing his fingernails over your clit, teasing you, before standing up to his full height and properly fucking you hard with his fingers.

He wrapped his arm around you once again, bracing himself to your side as he started snapping his palm against your clit, two of his fingers sliding in and out of you and filling the room with wet sounds.

When you started cumming again, his other hand, that was resting on your hip reached down and tugged on your panties again, positioning the crotch back between your pussy lips and pulling, wiggling it to create stimulation against your clit.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lower jaw dropping down as he admired your squirming body.

You cried out from the sensation, your head banging against the door and one of your legs bending in the knee as you pressed your thighs together, trying to escape from the overstimulation.

You were so consumed by coming down from your high that you didn’t expect Dexter to unhitch the chain from the hook on the door, making you lose your balance. You would have surely fallen to the ground if Dexter hadn’t been there, but he was ready to catch you.

He shifted your body, picking you up bridal style. You thought that he’d lay you down onto the bed and fuck you there, but instead, he opened the door and headed out of the room. And as you rested in the comfort of his strong arms, your head against his shoulder, you noticed that his shirt smelt differently. It wasn’t the usual sweat and blood, or different human remains. It was a laundry detergent, meaning he truly did this just for you. It was your night.

He carried you through the living room, making his way toward his desk where he sat you down.

Unlike every other day, the computer was gone, as well as the photo of him and Deb. In fact, it was completely cleared out.

How have you not noticed that?

He stood between your thighs, working the cuffs to separate them from each other before pulling your sleep shirt over your head, leaving you exposed to him. His hand reached out, pinching your nipple as he kissed you, sharing the taste of your pussy with you. He pressed himself against you, the button of his cargos grazing your clit and making you moan. You were still sensitive, but you loved every second of it.

He leaned into you, forcing you to lie down, the coldness of the desk hitting your back and spreading goosebumps over your skin. He positioned you to his liking, moving you up so your feet rested on the top of the desk.

“I make sure they can’t escape,” he continued his description of the way he’d done things, pulling out another set of cuffs from the desk drawer and clasping each around your ankles before cuffing them to your wrist cuffs. You weren’t unfamiliar with any of this, but then he pulled out two other clasps and attached the ankle cuffs to the D-rings built in the desk.

Were those always there?

Now, you were all spread out for him, your nipples stiff for him to feed on, your legs bent in the knees and putting the outline of your cunt under your ruined panties on full display. You were capable of minimal movement with your ankles attached to the desk and your hands dependent on the movement of your legs. You weren’t going anywhere. Not that you wanted to.

“Are you good?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t doing anything you weren’t up to.

“Yes.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Magazine.”

You watched as Dexter moved around the apartment, disappearing from your sight to retrieve a black, flat bag. When he returned to the kitchen counter, he seemed to unroll the bag, his back to you. You had to crane your neck to see, the vertebrae in your neck squishing together as you tried to get a glimpse of what lay inside. Something steely caught the light as he pulled it out. Then Dexter turned around, a pointed tool spinning under the force of his index finger. A Wartenberg wheel.

Your throat tightened, chills coursing down your spine as your body shifted in anticipation. Nothing could have prepared you for the next set of events. You were sure the next time you and Deb swapped stories, she would be the one taking notes.

Dexter tortured the fuck out of you.

He started with the pinwheel, rolling it all over your body. The pins were sharp enough to prickle your skin as they trailed along your arms, but it didn’t hurt. At first, it was even nice, relaxing almost. Then he moved to your chest, the wheel gliding from the hollow of your neck, down between your breasts and over you stomach.

As it neared the waistband of your soaked panties, you thought he’d continue further down and toward your aching pussy. But just as it reached below your navel, the wheel disappeared, making you huff.

That was your mistake. You’d worked yourself up by stupidly thinking that he’d go there right away. Foolish.

“I cut them up.”

You flinched at the sudden sound, startled, but he didn’t comment. The pinwheel resumed its path, drawing invisible lines across your wrists, elbows, shoulders, mimicking incisions. You closed your eyes, letting your imagination take over.

“Into evenly cut pieces,” he added.

Now the tool traveled lower, grazing your legs, running from your ankle to your bent knee, then up the sensitive skin of inner thigh. You trembled under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

You reveled in the thought of this man, this predator, choosing to worship you instead of discarding you. Who knows, maybe one day, he would snap. But the possibility only made your body quake more.

He noticed, stopping the wheel just where your thigh met your hip. “Are you scared?”

“No.” you said, though your voice betrayed you, shaking on the single syllable.

But you really weren’t. If you were truly scared, you wouldn’t have misbehaved just now.

Before you could think about what would happen next, his hand struck, his palm landing sharply against your clothed pussy, and it was just then that you noticed he had put on his gloves, the leather making the sting more searing. You gasped, your hips jerking from the impact.

“If you thought you’d get a free pass, you were sorely mistaken.” He leaned over you, his hand sliding from your core to your thigh, squeezing the flesh. “Let’s try again. Are you scared?”

“No, sir.”

Other times, if you failed to call him sir right away, you’d get a warning. Maybe a slap to your thigh, or a firm squeeze of your neck. Never your pussy. Not at first.

“Such a brave girl.” This time, he ran the pinwheel slowly from your waist toward your chest. He altered its course, pressing it against your breast, applying more pressure as he reached your nipple, the sharp points dragging over it. “See? They could never measure up to you.”

Dexter turned the wheel again, guiding it slowly down your heaving stomach. You swore one of the metallic points grazed the bow on your panties, but he halted the motion, the wheel twisting 90 degrees to trace the hem of your underwear instead. Your hips tilted upwards instinctively, a desperate attempt to bring your pussy closer to his hand, but it was useless.

He continued to tease you, switching from one thigh to another, running it so close to your center, but never quite touching it. You kept waiting for that moment, but it never came.

“This is getting boring. I’ll go get something else,” he said nonchalantly, making his way toward the counter. Fucker.

“Wait,” you blurted without thinking. “I mean, please, sir…”

His footsteps paused, then drew closer again, stopping beside your head and smiling down at you.

“Did you want something?”

“Can you please touch my pussy?”

“Of course,” he said, a mocking lilt in his voice. “I just have to make my hands free,” he replied, taking a step toward the counter again, but you were quick to react.

“No!” You immediately regretted your words as he returned to the same spot. Dexter’s hand tilted your head, his gloved fingers squeezing your cheeks. The leather was firm and hot against your face. “I’m sorry, sir,” you added quickly, your voice muffled under his grip.

He leaned in closer. “You’d better realize your place, sweetheart. Or I’ll make sure this won’t be a fun experience.”

You apologized again, not forgetting the title, and he released your face, giving you a nod.

“Can you please touch my pussy with… that?”

Fuck your pride, right?

He raised his hand in front of his face, inspecting the pinwheel as though it had just appeared in his hand.

“Oh, this?” he said, feigning ignorance, clearly mocking you. “You want me to–” He moved the tool lazily through the air above your body, stopping just over your lower half “Touch you here?”

With a swift motion, the wheel skimmed between your legs, the pins grazing your panties. You didn’t even have the time to register it before he removed it again, but the electrifying sensation that came and went made you moan as your clit pulsed with excitement.  

“Yes, please.”

His nose brushed against yours as he leaned over again, and you thought he was going to kiss you. Instead, he mocked you again, his voice dripping with condescension as he cupped your chin. “Aw, you’re such a dirty girl, huh?”

His head dropped, his hair tickling your cheek as he glanced downward, watching his hand between your thighs. He made another contact with your pussy, slowly this time, focused. A mix of relief and hunger flooded you as he ran it up and down your wet underwear, the prickling sensation shooting through your nerves. “You want me to fuck you with it too? Are you that sick, hm?”

When you didn’t respond, he stopped and his head snapped towards you. His gloved hand left your face, only to land a slap across your cheek. The sting spread across your face, your skin burning under the impact.

“I didn’t fucking hear you.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

What can you say? Slapping didn’t really work on you. He knew that, it’s the reason he did it. So he could do it again.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He slapped you again, this time harder, the leather stinging even more than his bare hand.  

“If that’s what you wanted, sir, I’d take it.” You managed to keep your voice steady despite the heat in your cheek.

His lips curved into a smile. He stood up, walking towards the counter. “Jesus Christ,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky you found me. Anyone else would’ve committed your ass to a psychiatric hospital.”

“Fate,” you commented, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t punish you. Meaning you made him smile.

Dexter returned with a knife, and he dragged it across the chains, the clinking sound of metal scraping against metal echoing in the room.

He focused on your pussy now, rubbing the flat side of the knife against your clit, occasionally tapping it against you, and you half-expected he might nick the skin of your thighs if he wasn’t careful.

Then, Dexter flipped the knife again, teasing you with its blunt edge before bringing it to your breasts. He drew circles around your nipples with the tip of the knife, sharper than the pinwheel.

His body moved again, positioning himself behind you. His face, upside down, loomed above, gently cupping the underside of your chin, tilting your head back. The leather of his gloves gave you an unnerving sensation as his fingers held you in place. You felt the cold steel of the knife at your throat, running from one carotid to the other.

“Sometimes I cut their throats. But it’s not really my favorite style,” he said, the blade left your neck, drifting downward until it hovered over your left breast, settling directly above your wildly beating heart. He pressed the tip of the knife just enough for your skin to dip under its force. He could do anything to you. He could kill you right then and there.

“I love you,” you confessed for what felt like umpteenth time.

Dexter smiled, leaning down and placing a tender kiss on your forehead, all while controlling the force he still had on the knife.

He straightened, moving to your side again. His gloved fingers trailed over your stomach as he slid the knife under the hem of your underwear. The sharp edge pressed upwards, and you felt the fabric give way with a faint snick as the first small tear formed.

He moved the blade lower, repeating the motion. Each cut widened the tear, revealing the top of your clit. He shredded the panties until they were completely off, leaving you slickness glistening in the dim light and dripping onto the table beneath you.

Dexter removed his gloves and slid his fingers between your pussy lips, coating them in your wetness, before he brought them to his mouth. He just made you cum with his mouth, surely he wouldn’t–

But before you could finish your thought, he bent down over your torso and in a millisecond, his head was between your thighs. Mouth wide open, his tongue resting on his chin as he pressed it flat against your clit, and his upper lip collecting your juices straight from the source.

It was a single, devastating taste, but it was enough to make your legs tremble, the chains stopping you from closing them.

“Shit, I might as well eat you out again.”

Yeah, he might. Without anything in the way this time.  

It was just stroking your ego. It really made you proud, how his tongue was addicted to your pussy.

He brought the final tool of the night – a small brush that looked like it belonged in a makeup kit. It also looked like the softest instrumentof the night, but turned out to be the most torturing one.

The bristles touched your clit with featherlight strokes, maddeningly soft. The individual bristles tickled and stimulated every single nerve ending, sending vibrations through your entire body.

You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily. Dexter worked the brush in slow, torturous circles, teasing your clit to the brink. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he stuffed two fingers inside your hole, wiggling them inside to massage the spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

The synergy was overwhelming. Your body writhed against the chains, chasing the orgasm building rapidly within you. But just as the climax was about to crash over you, he stopped. His fingers withdrew and the brush disappeared, your back arching in desperation as you felt the pleasure simmer out, leaving your abdomen hollow and aching from the loss.

“Please, sir, can I come?”

“Of course you can,” he said in a soft voice.

But he didn’t let you. He edged you again and again, pushing you to the brink, only to yank you back. He was playing with you, letting you know that your body wasn’t yours tonight. It was under his control. You were his.

The brush was drenched in your juices at this point, ruined just like your panties and your throbbing cunt. A few tears slipped from your eyes, mixing with the sweat slicking your skin. So you begged, desperate for the release. You begged until he finally finger-fucked, plunging his fingers into you and pumping them relentlessly. His thumb rubbed your puffy clit, sending you spiraling into an earth-shattering orgasm.

You came hard, your juices spilling over his hand and splattering onto his watch. He only pulled his fingers out to spank your clit, amplifying the intensity of your orgasm. At one point, he reached for the discarded glove, fisting it and placing harsh smacks against your sore pussy. You screamed, and after he landed his last smack, feeling you were nearing another orgasm, he switched the rough sensation of the leather for the softness of his tongue, firmly pressing against you and shaking his head from side to side, letting you cum into you his mouth.

You could barely take it and you were scared he might pull out a vibrator, because he liked to do that when you came twice in the span of two minutes. But he didn’t, removing his glistening face from your center and standing up. You just laid there, your body a racing circuit for the endorphins and oxytocin at this point.

Dexter gave you only a few second before he undid the chains, the clinking of metal barely audible over the pounding in your ears. He didn’t let you move, though, keeping you sprawled on table as he shifted your body higher until your head hung off the edge.

He stood in front of your face, and you knew what he wanted. You reached for the button of his cargo pants, undoing them and pulling them down along with his underwear. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy. Gorgeous. You didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward, licking the bead of precum from his tip before taking him into your mouth.

Dexter groaned, the sound vibrating through you. Soon, he took over, thrusting into your throat as he held you down. One hand pressed against your neck, feeling the way you swallowed his cock, while the other pinched and tugged at your nipples.

You gagged around him, bubbles forming in the corners of your mouth as you struggled to keep up. This time, your eyes outright stung from the tears that were forcing their way out, but you didn’t stop. It wasn’t until you coughed, your throat tightening involuntarily and squeezing around him, that he pulled out with a groan.

You gasped for air, your chest heaving, but he didn’t give you long to recover. His hand gripped your neck and yanked you up, forcing you into a kneeling position on the table. You just sat there, dazed, your hands resting in your lap like the picture of innocence. Messy hair, glassy eyes, and swollen lips.

Dexter kissed them, shoving his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and making you taste yourself again. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the long list of stimuli.

You dared to sneak your hand away from your lap, circling your fingers around his cock and stroking him slowly. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head and he moaned into your mouth before his head fell back. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against Dexter’s neck, sucking on his pulse point and grazing it with your teeth.

You moved your hand up and down, and Dexter’s moans and gasps grew louder and more frantic. You quickened your pace, his hips jerking into your hand as he chased his own orgasm. You twisted your hand, and he came with a guttural groan. His cum spilled onto your stomach, warm and sticky, and his hand shot out to grip the hair at the back of your neck, yanking you into another kiss as he came down from his high.

When his breathing slowed, you awkwardly shifted your legs over the edge of the table, letting them dangle as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You pulled him close, burying your face in his chest, a content sigh escaping you as you enjoyed the warmth, the softness of his body.

He cupped your head, his thumb brushing small crescents against your scalp with returned tenderness as he let out a soft sigh of his own, his chest rising and falling against you.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t pull away to look at him, your body too spent to do much more than to snuggle deeper into his chest and squeeze his torso.

“Better than,” you mumbled.

“I know this wasn’t what you wanted,” he said.

That made you lift your head. You looked at him, your brows drawing together in confusion.

“But this,” he gestured to the table, his brow raising, “is the only table I want to see you on. The only restraints I ever want to see on you. And I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours that there’s nothing sexy about what I do.”

“In my dreams there is,” you said, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“YN,” he warned.

“I know,” you relented with a roll of your eyes, his brows raising, daring you to be a brat in this moment. “For the record, it was better than what I wanted.”

You smiled and he kissed you again, silencing any further rebellion. When you shivered against him, he pulled back and cleaned you up before ordering you to throw on a shirt.

“Yes, sir,” you replied cheekily, adding a playful salute for good measure.

“I will spank your ass if you don’t get it in the shower in ten seconds,” he said, pulling his own pants up. Would that be so bad? You bit your lip to keep from grinning and headed into the bathroom, while he cleaned the table.

By the time you switched places, you felt refreshed, fucked out just right as every muscle in your body ached with a sweet kind of soreness. You heated up his dinner while making yourself a quick sandwich. Just as you set his plate down, he walked out of the bathroom. You grabbed your sandwich and set down, with Dexter soon joining you.

When you finished your meals, the two of you migrated to the couch. He rested his head on your stomach, while you draped your legs over his shoulders.

Your fingers played with the freshly washed hair, soft and silky from the shampoo. You twirled the strands around your fingers lazily, and his quiet purrs filled the room as you trailed your fingertips along the curve of his ears, scraping gently at the sensitive spots behind them. That sound, half sigh, half growl, might’ve been your favorite thing in the world.

You bent down, the movement uncomfortable and your muscles protesting as you pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. But the way it scrunched affectionately under your touch made the discomfort worth it.

[softtdaisy]

the right one - Charles Leclerc

summary. charles never forgot himself for letting you go. when arthur lose you, he is the one who has the heal your broken heart this time.

words count. 4,313

what to expect. it's the second part of the other one. I guess you can read it separately but some things might not make sense (specially the glue part). inspired by congratulations from Hamilton. mention of cheating, everyone is so sad in this story I'm sorry (im not) and arthur is terrible boyfriend

a/n. can you believe i told @monzabee about this fic in December 2023??? and it's finally out after all this time. I'm so happy I finally did it and gave these two another part, they deserve love and happiness.

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

When he first heard them, Charles didn’t want to believe the rumors.

For the winter break, he decided to go on a road trip in Italy with his best friends. For multiple reasons, he chose to get rid of any type of social media. Charles needed a real break after the season that had been more difficult than he thought it would. 

Also because a part of him still hasn’t gotten over you.

It was too difficult to see Arthur post pictures and stories with you all the time. And if he couldn’t escape it, nor you in the paddock during the season, Charles decided to leave all his bad feelings behind for a few weeks.

No matter how hard he tried these past months, Charles couldn’t get rid of his love for you. If he ignored you during the end of last season, even if he had your glue everywhere with him, he wanted to be nicer this year. 

Not like he had a choice if he wanted to keep a good relationship with Arthur, who still had no idea about what happened between you and Charles. He also wasn’t completely stupid: he knew it could look bad on him if he kept ignoring the photographer around the paddock. 

And it would be a lie to say that he didn’t miss you. Sure, a part of him was still aching when he was making you laugh and smile, thinking he couldn’t have the privilege to see that every day for the rest of his life because you chose Arthur over him. But he tried to be more mature and accept that if this was the best he could have, then he would appreciate it.

This was also one of the reasons why he couldn’t believe the rumors when he heard them. There was no universe in which someone would purposely hurt you.

The first time he heard about the rumors, it was because some friends from Monaco sent him a text. “What’s going on with Arthur? Is it true?” Charles was more than confused. What could be true about his brother? He didn’t want to sound stupid to ask them but still didn’t want to put his social media back on his phone.

So he turned to Joris. Because that man knew everything that there is to know. And because he knew that his friend would never lie to him. This explained the embarrassed expression on his face when Charles asked him if he knew anything about something Arthur might have done.

“You sure you want to know?” he asked him. Charles understood that something serious was going on. Even when the truth was ugly, Joris never asked him if he really wanted him to be honest. Not when Ferrari was not doing great, not when fans criticized him, not when everyone had something to say about his private life. But he didn’t hesitate a single second and agreed to hear the truth.

“Apparently…your brother cheated on his girlfriend.” Charles’ world went silent for a few seconds. That couldn’t be true. He couldn't believe it. People must be wrong and bored and choose to create drama because of the off-season. Right? 

“Actually…” Joris continued. “It’s not really a rumor since Arthur basically admitted it.”

It was a damper. 

Charles left for a few weeks, and his brother decided to ruin everything he gave up his own happiness for?

“Is it true?” He sent Arthur. No explanation.

“Yes.” He only answered.

It took Charles only a few hours to come back to Monaco. On the plane back, he opened his social media again, answered some comments and messages, and shared some Ferrari stuff. And looked at the mess Arthur created.

“Let’s review…” Charles started. As soon as he arrived, he asked Arthur and Lorenzo to come with him in the living room to discuss. They all stayed at the family house to deal with the major crisis. From what he learned, paparazzis were going around Monaco to catch any of you: Lorenzo, Arthur, and especially you. The victim of all this mess. 

Charles still hasn't seen you, though. Lorenzo’s girlfriend took you for a ride away from there, knowing Charles was coming back and that there would be a confrontation between the brothers. You didn’t need to hear about all that again. You knew the story. Well, you knew some parts of it. You refused to hear Arthur’s explanation. 

Charles knew it was for the better, but he still couldn’t wait to see you. Scared of how you would be. Scared of how he will react too.

He finally took a big breath before continuing. “This girl pretended to be pregnant with your child. And instead of just saying that you didn’t have sex with her, you said she wasn’t the one you slept with?” He chose his words wisely, taking the time to say everything correctly. Even if there were no good ways to talk about this situation.

“I panicked! What should I have done?”

“Don't say anything!” he screamed back, slamming his hands on the table. “You should have just shut your mouth and not said a fucking thing.”

“Charles…” Lorenzo warned him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He sighed and apologized, trying to calm down. His brother was right; there was no use being aggressive against Arthur. The harm has been done and couldn’t be undone. But when he gave his baby brother a look, he couldn’t handle it. Arthur looked like he didn’t understand why Charles was so angry. Like he couldn’t see the real harm in this. “Or better, you shouldn’t have cheated,” he added. 

Everything stopped around the three brothers. “Charles!” Lorenzo repeated, louder this time and with a more authoritarian tone. Like there was back in childhood when he had to play the big brother between the two younger brothers fighting for the same car. 

Except this time, it was for the same girl.

Charles knew he had to calm down and play it more cleverly. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, trying to think of a way to say things more nicely without making Arthur turn on him. He didn’t even know how he could do that: he was so mad at his brother for doing such a stupid thing.

“Aren’t you supposed to support me?” Arthur asked with a disdainful voice that made Charles look up immediately. He couldn’t even find the right way to answer this. Maybe Arthur could feel the disappointment, which is why he looked that angry. He was never the Leclerc who disappointed the family.

Lorenzo had a lot of pressure as the big brother, the one that had to be a model and perfect at any point. Charles had the celebrity pressure; being the most famous Leclerc, he had to behave perfectly. But Arthur? Everybody saw him as the baby, never accepting any bad decisions from him. Or even when he did, he was forgiven immediately.

He was not used to having people being mad at him. You were, which was already a problem. But Charles was too, and that he couldn’t handle. This explained why Arthur went upstairs silently. Well, as silently as he was, hitting the staircase loudly. 

Charles let out a loud sigh when Arthur disappeared. “You two need to talk.” Lorenzo told him, to which he agreed without the desire to deal with that right now. Instead, he started talking with his more reasonable brother about their holidays. He knew Arthur needed some minutes to calm down.

He needed them too.

He only decided to go upstairs when he saw the car parking in front of the house. You were back. 

And he couldn’t face you right now.

— 

“Thank you for coming.” Charles stopped what he was doing after that sentence. He had finally gone to see Arthur after you came back home. He waited just a minute to hear your voice, even if he couldn’t see you. He had no idea if he should accept some good or bad feeling from hearing you. He was torn between the fire that lit up again in his heart from your simple words and the hurt of knowing he was only there because of his and Arthur's bad decisions.

After he entered his brother’s room, the one he assumed you shared with him, they both stayed silent for a moment. Charles was dealing with his social media when Arthur finally decided to speak. 

And Charles was more confused than he should be. What did this mean? He turned around to look at Arthur. He was still standing next to the window, watching you outside talking with Lorenzo’s girlfriend. There was something on Arthur’s face that Charles didn’t like. Almost like he couldn’t understand why you came back. Why were you still around? Like he was waiting for you to go away after what happened. 

“I don’t know how to deal with that. I needed you here.” 

This time, it was Charles that couldn’t truly understand what was going on. Actually, no, he can. He loved his baby brother with his whole heart and would have done anything for him. To protect him. To save him from whatever situation he put himself into. But now, looking at him with the whole situation going around, Charles realized something. 

Arthur knew. He knew that Charles would have always come to his rescue. Sacrifice things for him. Do anything for his brother’s happiness before his. And that’s what he was expecting from today too.

“No.” Charles first said, mostly for himself. But it made Arthur turn around too, curious. For the rest, it came out more confidently. Like a part of him had been waiting for ages to finally say these words. “I’m not here for you.” 

He heard Arthur’s nervous laugh, and he took a step back. He wasn’t even scared of his brother; it would have been stupid for many reasons. No, he was more scared of his own mind right now. He still couldn’t believe he said it. Out loud. What he was thinking from the start.

You became his priority. 

You had been for so long. 

But Arthur didn’t let him go away with him and took this step forward and some others. “What do you mean?”

“You fucked up, Arthur.” Charles started, pointing at the window. Pointing at you. “You cheated on your girlfriend. She was willing to give up everything for you; she already did in the past. And you thank her like that? By sleeping with some other girl you don’t even know? Do you seriously think that’s what she deserves?” 

Arthur looked at him blankly. With just a smirk. Not a fun or laughing one. No, a mean one. One that Charles had never seen on his brother. It was almost like he was discovering a new face for his baby brother. And the worst was yet to come.

“You still love her.” Arthur said with an emotionless voice. And it was a real hit in the heart for Charles. He never thought that Arthur knew about his feelings. Sure, he had never been more discreet when it came to his heart. And the way he went from praising you to ignoring you during the weekend said a lot. Maybe the worst part wasn’t much that Arthur knew about his feelings. It was that he knew and let Charles sacrifice himself for him. “I should have expected it. She’s hard to forget, I guess.”

“You’re going to learn now.” Arthur laughed at this answer because it was the truth. He played, and he lost. Just like Charles did last year, technically. If Charles gave up, Arthur lost at his own game. The game over wasn’t the same, except for the fact the lost prize was the same: you. You and your heart. You and your beautiful smile were maybe gone for longer than it should have been.

Charles couldn’t handle it anymore. The more he stayed in this room, the more he was getting hate for his brother, and it was definitely not the family dynamic he wanted. So he walked to the door, ready to leave. Or to finally do what he wanted from the beginning. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Charles turned around one last time to look at his brother. But Arthur wasn’t looking at him. He took his place back, near the window. Watching you. From there, it looked like he was trapped in some kind of prison. One he was to blame for being in. But maybe the real story behind this was that he was the watchman and you were the prisoner. At least for now.

“Why did you let me date her?” 

“Sometimes you love someone so much you accept to put their happiness before yours.” Arthur gave him one single look. One that said everything that needed to be known. He wasn’t the one Charles gave up his happiness for. He did it thinking it was the right decision for you.

— 

When Charles went outside, you were still there. Alone this time. You sat on the swing seat, your eyes locked on your own shoes, not giving any interest to the environment around you. Charles’ heart broke a little at this sight. The sun wasn’t supposed to stop shining on the people around it. You weren’t supposed to stop being this joyful person. 

Even if he tried to walk slowly and not scare you, you jumped when Charles sat next to you. “Sorry,” he immediately mumbled. You offered him a small smile while he was trying to find a good seat. Ironically, he was making it move even more and making it harder to sit.

You were the one holding on to the structure to slow the movements. “I’m not great at this.” He laughed nervously. Charles didn’t know how to act around you. It wasn’t easy most of the time. But now it was even harder. They never teach you how to act around the woman you loved and let go, but even less when this same woman got her heart broken by your brother. 

“Thank God you’re better behind the wheel,” you replied, now looking straight in front of you. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You felt guilty. Sure, this whole situation wasn’t your fault; nothing could ever make you think that. But you hated that Charles had to comfort you now. After what happened between you last year, it didn’t feel right. Or fair. 

Charles shrugged, purposely hitting on your shoulder while doing it. “Well, you’re not seeing him when I sit in the car.” You turned your face to him and couldn’t contain a laugh when you saw his proud expression. In the dark, his smile was the small light you needed to not break down. It made you feel like there was still hope out there.

So when Charles stopped smiling, naturally a tear fell from your eye. “I’m so stupid,” you sighed, playing with your fingers. Immediately, he grabbed one of your hands and started playing with them too. You remember how it was something you did to him back then, when there was still something building around you. When he walked out of the car, he wasn’t very proud of what he did.

You both had the same habit of playing with your hands to avoid eye contact and focusing on something else. 

You also both had the same habit of grabbing each other’s hand to help ease the anxiety. 

“I never thought Ar…he would break my heart like that,” you confessed in a quiet and broken voice. A voice that was like a knife right in Charles’ heart. “You said it yourself, he has a pure heart. So why did he change? What did I do wrong?” 

You started crying again. And Charles was fighting to not break down too. He hated seeing you like this. He hated that he was the one pushing you into Arthur’s arms. If Charles didn’t cause the pain, he was the triggering factor. If only he had been more selfish and kept you for himself, this wouldn’t have happened.

He got up, making the structure move again, but this time you didn’t have the strength to hold it. But the swinging didn’t last long. Charles immediately kneeled in front of you, grabbing your legs to stop you from swaying. And once you were stable, one of his hands moved to your face softly. You didn’t hesitate a single second before cuddling against it, even if it meant your tears would now fall on his fingers. If you didn’t want to share your pain with him, that was all Charles was asking. To take it with him so you would feel less hurt.

“You have nothing to do with Arthur’s mistakes, ok? I hate to say that, but I was wrong. I really thought he would treat you better than…” He stopped for a second, closing his eyes to consider what he wanted to say. But he was tired of holding back his words. “Better than I would. I never imagined he would do that; otherwise, I would have never pushed you in his arms. You deserve better, ok?” 

You were absorbing every single word he was saying. Trying to remember every millisecond of his monologue so you could recite it before going to sleep that night and all the following ones when you would remember giving your heart to the wrong brother. 

“You deserve the world.” Charles pursued. You watched as he put a hand in his jacket pocket to get something. “And I hope one day you’ll find the strength to open that glue too and accept the help from someone to heal your broken heart.” 

He handed you the glue. The very same glue you gave him for his birthday. You weren’t quite sure Charles had healed his heart; he wasn’t sure himself. 

The fact he kept it this whole time—more than that, that he had it with him tonight—was the forward thrust you needed.

You thanked him silently, with a smile that he understood immediately. Charles stayed like that for another minute, brushing away the tears that were still falling and caressing your knee in the softest way you’ve ever felt.

Then he sat back on the swing seat, with more precaution this time. For the next ten minutes, he tried to change your mind by speaking of the last season and what was coming. You didn’t speak much, except for some reactions here and there. The conversation wasn’t the real distraction in the end.

It was seeing Charles so full of life, something you’ve waited to see since you’ve met him. Deep down, you took it as proof that a better future was coming.

“Let’s go inside.” Charles offered after noticing the shivers in your body grow bigger. “I can escort you to your room.” He knew that you were staying in the guest room. It wasn’t hard to guess anyway, as all the brothers took their own room, and there was no way you would be sleeping with Arthur that night. 

A part of him wished he could comfort you to sleep anyway. 

Especially after you grabbed his hand to follow him inside. So lightly that he could let it go easily if he didn’t pay attention. But enough for him to feel the contact of your skin together and feel the heat growing in him. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered to him, closing the door. Charles hated how he only noticed now how your makeup had actually been ruined through the day.

___

Charles was taking his shirt off when he heard slight bangs on his door. He was clearly not expecting anybody, especially not now and not in his family house. 

His mom was already asleep; Lorenzo was never the type to come when the doors were closed; Arthur still hadn’t come back from what he knew. So it didn’t leave many possibilities.

As he could expect, you were the one behind the door when he opened it. Charles found it sad that you were still wearing the same pajamas you probably brought for your holiday: an old shirt that he recognized from Arthur’s wardrobe and a short that was showing too much leg for his own good. 

But what made him even sadder was the expression on your face. If he thought you looked sad earlier, it was nothing compared to now.

“Do you mind if…” You didn’t even finish your sentence before your voice broke down. Charles moved aside to let you come in, giving a look in the corridor to make sure you were alone. Even if he didn’t have to explain himself if anybody saw you. 

He would never let you be alone in the situation. Nor ever, now that he thought about it.

What he didn’t expect was that the moment he closed the door, you would fall in his arms. You didn’t show much attention to him except for accepting the one he gave you earlier. But you were the one who initiated it. Compared to now.

“I'm so tired of this, Charles,” you mumbled against his naked chest. The first thing that came to your mind was how you never felt more safe and comfortable than right now, in his arms. Not even Arthur could make for his big brother natural reassurance. 

It was something that has always been true about Charles. People, friends, members of the team, family, and anyone who needed to feel comfort knew they could go to Charles for this. If he felt like he wasn’t always finding the right words, it seemed to work enough for people to feel better when they left.

Maybe that was always true about him too. People never seemed to stay.

“He’s not planning on coming back, and he left alone here, in your family house? What am I even supposed to do here by myself?” You started again, sounding angrier now. “I can’t fucking sleep in his bed because it makes me sick. Sleeping in the guest bed makes me feel bad because I don’t belong here. I feel bad because he’s not here. But he’s the one who fucked up. Why do I feel bad? Why do I feel guilty? Charles, I…”

Every word you said was like a knife in the heart for him. Hurting more than the punches you were hitting on his chest.

With each hour passing from this morning, Charles felt worse about the decision he took months ago. He should have never let you go. He would have never treated you this way. 

When you broke down, Charles held you harder against his chest. He was humming, trying to calm you down. His head was above yours, and at some point, he naturally started kissing your hair. He was trying to create a peaceful bubble where you would feel at ease. Less sad.

“You can sleep here,” Charles offered in a whisper. “I don’t mind.” 

It wasn’t until you were lying in his bed that you asked the question. Charles’ idea was to let you sleep in his bed and for him to sleep in the guest room. At least you didn’t risk Arthur coming at night, and he could deal with his brother. It never occurred to you that you would ask for the situation to be different.

But you grabbed his hand after he moved the sheet up your chest. “Would you…can you stay with me? Please?” 

Charles looked at you with confusion but also hope. A hope that lowered over the months but that never died. He replied with a simple nod and sweet smile. A reassuring one. In a home where you probably felt unwelcome, even if it wasn’t entirely true, Charles wanted you to know you were at the right place right now.

So he didn’t waste another minute and went to lie next to you. The boundaries were pretty obvious with each of you sleeping at the end of the bed and with a gap between your bodies. While you were facing the wall, he was on his back, trying to organize the mess that had been that day. 

Right when he closed his eyes to try to sleep, he felt the mattress moving. He couldn’t resist giving you a look. You were now facing him with your eyes open. “Charles?” you whispered. 

He was obviously awake, yet you were scared of disturbing him. But he gave you that smile. The one he only had the secret. The one that opened the door to his life, his head, his heart. 

“Will it be ok?” 

You knew he would understand what you meant.

When you met Charles, he was so heartbroken that he chose to put all the good things in his life aside because he felt like he didn’t deserve to be happy anymore. And even if his anxiety was still a battle he had to fight every day, it got better. A few months ago, he probably would have ignored you because he would have thought it wasn’t his place to comfort you. To be the good person in your life.

But there he was, sharing a bed with you. Thinking that maybe tomorrow could be better. And that two days later could be even better.

He knew.

That was why he took your hand, the one resting on your pillow next to your face. He held it until you chose to intertwine your fingers together. A contact you both needed. To heal the past and the future.

Charles moved to lie on his side, facing you. And with his thumb brushing your skin, he gave you the only thing you needed to hear that night.

The only thing he also needed to say. 

“It will. I promise."

[fruitbird15]

recently my dad, who dabbles in writing, happened to see something David Seymour said about privilege, and wrote an article about it in one furious sitting. That post is now gathering a fair amount of momentum on social media such as facebook and instagram. So fuck it, why not share it here:

"David Seymour said on twitter

"If you believe you have special rights because of your ethnicity, you’re going to be disappointed with the Treaty Principles Bill. When you’re used to special rights, equality feels like oppression."

A question I have for those who state that Māori get special privileges in Aotearoa New Zealand, Actually two questions.

1/What are they

2/what decade did they start in this country

Did they start in 1863 when the New Zealand government of the day started the Land Settlement Act? An act that confiscated millions of acres of land from the Māori because the Māori refused to sell, leading to the Māori land wars. An act that by the early 1900s meant that Maori held just 8% of the land they had held when they signed Te Tiriti O Waitangi and that percentage continued to fall. As of 2024 land currently owned by Maori is 5% and that's After Waitangi Tribunal Settlements.

The last bit of land was confiscated during WW2 to make an airfield.

Was this one of their special privileges that settlers to New Zealand didn't get?

Did they start in 1867 when the government signed the Native Schools Act, which decreed that all Native Schools would only be held in English? An act that is often blamed on a petition from tribal chiefs calling for a school for their Moku. Yes they did send such a petition but it asked for 2 things, that they be taught literacy, science, and numeracy and the second was that they be taught both in English and Māori. This act wasn't repealed till 1987 by which time several generations of children had had their language and culture beaten out of them. One of these was my Father, speaking Te Reo still makes his hands hurt and he's 80.

This must have been one of those special privileges that only Māori got as this privilege wasn't offered to Dutch or French or other European children who might have spoken another language at school

Was it being Blackbirded? For those that don't know it was the practice of kidnapping Māori and Pacifica and selling them as slaves in Queensland to work the sugar cane plantations.

Thats a privilege that will make you feel special

Was it in the 1850s when the Crown started confiscating Māori children and giving them to Pakeha families to greater assimilate them into the British way of life, An act that continued until well into the 1980s under the foster system leaving them subjected to mental, physical, and sexual abuse

Its a special privilege for special children

Was it a special privilege that John Ballance transported poisoned sugar and flour up the Wanganui River to sell to Māori an act that got overlooked when he became prime minister of this country

Someone was privileged anyway

Or was it in 1907 when the Government signed the Tohunga Suppression Act which banned Māori from access to their healers and medicines and made them rely on Western medicine instead? Did this get rid of a number of quacks, yes but it also suppressed a lot of local knowledge about medicine from local plants that had worked and it put them into the hands of the Western medical system that didn't have their best interests at heart either. It was also aimed at suppressing Māori religion and culture, after all, you suppress the belief system you suppress the people

The only laws aimed at suppressing a religion passed in this country were made against Māori so that must be one of their special privileges, but they did get to pick what religion they could be forced into, Protestant or Catholic so there's that

Is one of the special Privileges a shorter life span, on average 7 years shorter than Pakeha. Yes, the average life span for Māori in the 1700s was 30 but that was the same for Europeans. Is it because they have the privilege of having their symptoms overlooked in a medical system that has prioritised pakeha males, Is it that Pakeha women are more likely to be offered pain relief during childbirth than Māori women? Is it because they were often paid less than their pakeha counterparts at 81 cents to the dollar and so couldn't afford regular checkups? Is it because they were taught not to put themselves forward and to be noticed by society, to be a good Māori?

Is it a privilege that the New Zealand health system can no longer take their race into account when giving them treatment?

Better-researched people have written more on this special Privilege so I will move on

Was it in 1926 when old age and widow pensions came into this country and Māori were only paid 75 per cent of the going pension rate. In 1937 when pressed on why the Senior Treasury official Bernard Ashwin stated "On the face of it, it may appear equitable to pay the average Māori old-age pensioner the same amount per week as the average European pensioner, but in this matter questions of equity should be decided having regard to the circumstances, the needs and the outlook on life of the individuals concerned … the living standard of the Māori is lower – and after all, the object of these pensions is to maintain standards rather than to raise them.’" Or more simply a grass skirt is cheaper than a suit.

I guess being able to make do with less is a special privilege

Was it during the early to mid-20th century when signs saying No Māori's on pubs, hotels, theatres, and even drinking fountains were not uncommon and cinemas and pools had separate use days? In many places, Māori were only allowed to use the pools on Friday as they were cleaned on Saturday. It must have been that Privilege of trying to rent a property and seeing advertisement after advertisement saying Europeans only. Was it that privilege of being denied bank loans because they were Māori?

Being treated as lesser in your own country must be a privilege

Is it the privilege that Māori are jailed at 3 times the rate of Pakeha for the same crimes that will get a paler-skinned person a non-custodial sentence or no charges at all? They do get a special privilege that their race is taken into account when arrested, or charged or sentenced but that comes with the privilege of their race working against them every step of the way. During the mid-20th century often young Māori men were seen socialising together and harassed by police until they committed an antisocial crime like swearing in public and were sent to borstal

Is it a privilege that unjustified force is disproportionately used against Māori in police encounters and arrests

Constantly being under the watchful eye of the law must be a special privilege indeed

Was it a special privilege that Māori had to start occupying confiscated land in 1977 starting at Bastion Point in an effort to finally get some redress to the massive loss of tribal land, An occupation that lasted for over a year before it was brutally put down by the police and Army

Bash our heads, it's our privilege as Māori

And then there's that special privilege that Māori love and enjoy called the 2004 Foreshore and Seabed Act an act that takes the aforementioned and places them in the hands of the crown as opposed to the public domain or as was guaranteed by Te Tiriti and then promptly confiscated from guardianship and ownership of Māori. Luckily this bill was repealed in 2010 and replaced with the Marine and Coastal Act 2011 which guaranteed the right to access justice through courts but only if Māori could exercise that special privilege they have.

Can they show that their rights to the foreshore and seabed have been exercised since 1840, in accordance with Tikanga Māori, without substantial interruption and was not interrupted by law, say a law passed in 1863. Then if so, by special privilege then they can put it before the courts. In 2024 they got even more special privileges when the Government ignored the courts recommendation to lower the threshold of proof and required Māori to prove they had had continual exclusive use and ownership since 1840 to have a chance to get confiscated foreshore lands back

Yay the privilege of ever-moving goalposts

Did the privilege start in 1988 when the Crown returned Bastion Point to Ngati Whatua after a prolonged court case or was it in 1989 when the first Ti Tiriti O Waitangi settlement was done giving Waitomo Caves back to Uekaha Hapu or was it 1987 when Te Reo was recognised as an official Language or was it the early 2000s when Bilingual signs started being put up around Aotearoa or was it in 2024 when the Government banned Bilingual signs on roads and in government buildings?

Was it in 1867 when the Māori were granted 4 parliamentary seats, given the Maori population at the time compared to Pakeha it should have been more although it could have been 1868 when Māori men got the right to vote? Oddly it was 11 years before pakeha men were given that right, before then, only landowners could vote and because Māori held land in common all of them could vote

Was it in 1880 were several hundred prisoners from the Māori peaceful protest group Parihaka were held and treated to 2 years hard labour without trial and their settlements burnt and confiscated

Was it in 1977 when race was added to the Human Rights Commission as something you couldn't discriminate against as well as gender, religion or beliefs?

Was it in 1977 when a section was added to the Race Relations Act that made it illegal to publish, broadcast, or make public statements that were likely to incite hostility or ill-will against a group of people based on their: Color, Race, and Ethnic or national origins

Was it after 130 years of being ground down and stepped on and murdered and marginalised and robbed, that laws were made that said, you know we probably shouldn't have been doing that

Is the privilege the knowledge of what 184 years of all of the above does to a people, the hurt that it causes deep into the bone

Is it that in the 40 years since that Human Rights Commission rule that Māori have begun to hold up their heads, to be proud of who they are, to speak their language and to rediscover their culture?

To speak out against things that are wrong in the health system, the education system, the justice system, the welfare system and the political system. To demand, not ask but demand redress for the crimes that the Crown has not only done against them but encouraged others to do to them.

Did the Privilege start when the Waitangi Tribunal awarded 6 cents for every dollar of land confiscated? If you want that broken down, for every million dollars worth of land confiscated, the reparations were only $60000

Is it because New Zealand as a society got used to seeing them be shy, and humble and hard-working and lost amid the diaspora that pakeha society caused?

That society got used to being able to exploit the bits of Māori culture we liked, like the music and the humour and the strong back and compliance and when they found their voice and took it back and that redress was happening and suddenly, they were privileged because how dare they not be happy with scraps from the table.

That Māori were no longer being the Good Māori.

Is the privilege that in 2024, 184 years after the signing of Te Tiriti, Māori are finally getting a fraction of what they should have had if Te Tiriti had been honoured

One other question to the Pakeha of Aotearoa New Zealand

If all of this looks like a Privilege. Do any of you want to swap places?"

[marvelettesassemblenow]

The Fake Ring

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female Reader 

Summary: The three times you lied about your relationship status with a ring and one time you don’t have to anymore or - It’s easier to work as a bartender with a fake ring on your finger to avoid situations. But that also means Jake thinks you’re already in a relationship 

Word Count: ~2.7k 

Warnings: is the beach scene a warning?, discussions about situations when you need to lie you’re in a relationship to get rid of people, me not having a clue about the navy  

AN: I started this story a year ago when I bought myself a fake ring for work. I rewrote it 3 times and I wasn't so sure, if I should post it on this blog, but I love TGM and I had fun writing it, so: Hi Jake, welcome to this blog

When you needed to make sure you were off limits 

The night had just started for you as you were stacking the clean glasses and had just finished counting the register. Nobody was there so far, but that would change when the naval aviators would come in and the folks that tried to talk to them or get one to sleep with them would arrive. They often arrived after them in the hopes they would see their entry. 

You liked the beginning of your shift when you had the room to yourself until the regulars came in and then the aviators. They were nice and often chatted with you until it got crowded. It was how you got to know some of them, and you were especially fond of the group that was currently stationed there. 

Right when you thought about it the door opened and a few of them stepped in. They stopped at the bar and waited for you to make their drinks while small talk floated through the room. They took their drinks and went to their side of the bar where the first bets for a game of pool were placed. 

“You’re not playing tonight?” you asked Hangman who stayed back at the bar with you. 

“I’ll let them a chance of winning before I join them,” he smirked at you and you laughed. He wasn’t wrong though; he was good at pool. And at dart. And at flirting. “I rather keep you company if you have time for me. How was your day?” he asked and took a sip of his beer. You knew that he would quit after the first beer and would switch to something non-alcoholic if the next day was a working day. 

“Same old, same old. Nothing as exciting as flying for sure. I bet you don’t want to hear about me going grocery shopping and that my highlight was to pick up a new book that I got lost in until I noticed I had to leave for work,” you teased as you filled a drink for another customer. 

When you came back Hangman was still there. “I like to hear about everything that makes you happy.” His eyes quickly went to the piece of jewelry on your hand. “I’ll see you later, darling,” he said and stood up before he joined the others at the pool table. You almost forgot about the ring. You started wearing it when people started hitting on you and for the most part it worked. And it was better this way, because you weren’t sure if you could tell Hangman no. 

Hangman flirted all the time, so you wouldn’t be special. Even though he always asked about you and your day and coaxed you into telling more. And people did talk about him a lot and had a certain opinion of him, but he was always respectful and you knew he wouldn’t cross a line. 

That’s why you were seeing him flirting a few hours later with two women who were more than willing to do so. Phoenix had slipped into a seat in front of you. “Another round?” you asked her. It was a slow night so you could give her a few minutes. 

“Yes please, and a break from Hangman's terrible flirting, so don’t hurry,” she replied and it made you laugh. 

“I bet he isn’t that bad,” slipped your lips and you hurried to bend down and grab some bottles, so she couldn’t see your face. But she was still staring at you when you were back on her eyelevel.

2. When you had to protect your heart 

Inventory sucked! There was no other way to describe the days when you had to count how many things you still had at the bar and what you needed to order. You stepped out of the cool bar towards the bench where Penny sat outside. “Okay, I counted...” you never finished the sentence as you just spotted what was happening on the beach. 

“Take a seat, enjoy the show,” Penny chuckled and patted the bench next to her. 

“What is happening?” you managed to get out and stare at the people who were playing some kind of game – shirtless. “Is that Phoenix?” 

“Yup and everyone else. Give me the list,” she held out her hand and you put the paper in her hand before you sat down and started watching whatever was happening there. “I bet we could get a lot of money if we would record that,” you said to your boss. 

“Yeah, but do we like to share?” was her reply and you shook your head no. 

“While we’re at it… what’s going on with Hangman and you?” Her tone was easy, but she looked at you with something that told you there was no escaping that conversation.  

“Nothing. He likes to flirt with everyone, that’s it.” You shrugged your shoulders and let your gaze wander back to the game when a loud shout was heard, and someone lifted a guy – Bob? You weren’t so sure – into the air. 

“If you would take that thing of your finger, maybe,” Penny started, but you interrupted her. 

“There is a reason this is on this finger.” You wiggled your hand, and the small stone caught the sunlight and reflected it. “People won’t accept a no anymore and,” this time it was Penny who interrupted you. 

“Did someone do anything you didn’t want to?” 

“No! It’s just they see it as a challenge when I decline it. But once they see the ring they kind of back off. It's just easier for me this way.” 

“Okay, once they do you tell me. I won’t tolerate anything of that, okay?” She waited until you agreed and patted your hand. Inventory took longer than usual because you were distracted by the game. 

Penny had gone inside to place the order and you were busy collecting everything from the table when a shadow fell over the papers. “Enjoyed the show?”  

“It was okay,” you replied and eyed the sandwich Hangman was eating. He held a half out towards you. After a short hesitation you took it and bit into it. He took Penny’s seat and you shared the food. You were thankful that he had put on a shirt, because otherwise you would have stared at his body. 

“I think I need to have a chat with them,” he said once he finished and licked his finger. You were mesmerized and didn’t catch on immediately.  

“Huh?”  

“Your partner. They need to take better care of you. But I shouldn’t have to point out the obvious that you should feed your partner. You never even told me a name,” he said and looked at you expectingly. 

Suddenly you went hot, caught in your own lie. Never had someone requested a name of you and you couldn’t come up with something. “Maybe because you only talk about yourself,” you said and stood up. You quickly grabbed the papers and threw a “Thank you for lunch” over your shoulder before you went inside the building. 

It was a lie; he was always asking about you. But you knew when you came up with something on such a short notice you would be caught in a web of lies. You needed to think about it.

3. When you had to admit you lied 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bob asked when he saw Jake watching you again at the Hard Deck. 

Jake didn’t even bother to look away from you, only when it was his turn at pool. “Because despite all of you thinking I’m an asshole, I’m not hitting on someone who is taken. It’s just a little flirting and as soon as she tells me to stop I will,” he said while lining up his cue and as he didn’t lower his voice the others were also pulled into the conversation. 

“Who are we talking about?” Rooster asked and hoped his opponent would be too distracted to sink the next ball. 

“His crush,” Coyote jumped in, he had been wanting to bring it up for a while. 

“What crush?” Rooster asked confused. The others just stared at him, while Jake mumbled something about not having a crush. “Don’t look at me, he was just flirting with three different people last week,” Rooster defended himself. 

“They wanted to be entertained and I just did that. It wasn’t as if I was leaving with them though.” Despite the talking he managed to sink two more balls before it was Bradley's turn again. 

“Okay so... if she’s in a relationship, why is she spending her breaks with you? And I haven’t heard her talking about a relationship ever,” Bob thought loudly. “Although she also mostly talks to you and not me.” 

This made Jake pause. Not once had he heard a name from you, he saw the ring and assumed and went from there. But you also didn’t deny anything when he mentioned a partner. But Jake was anything but shy that’s why he left the table without an excuse and stalked to the bar. He waited patiently for you to finish your conversation and shooed Penny away when she wanted to take his order. She gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t break her gaze. Only when he noticed you approaching, he looked in your direction. You shot him a smile and showed him you’d be with him soon. 

“Want a refill?” you asked once you stopped in front of him. 

“Are you in a relationship?” The question made you stop and you stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. 

“Why are you asking?” Your response told him a lot, so he just raised his eyebrow. “No, I’m not,” you admitted as you didn’t want to lie to him. 

“Okay, then why this?” he pointed at your finger. Another patron showed you he wanted to order something and Penny was busy at the other end of the bar. 

“I’ll join you in my break and explain then, okay? So, about the refill?” 

“I’m good, see you then,” he knocked on the bar twice before he made his way to the restroom. 

You took your break earlier than you would have usually. After a stop in the kitchen you walked over to the pool table with a plate full of nachos and two cokes in your hand. You pushed one in Jakes hand who was leaning against the wall watching the current game. You held out your plate too, but he just shook his head. It was quiet for a while when you watched the other aviators play. 

“How often have you been hit on and the person didn’t back off when you told them you weren't interested? Or were you always interested? Wait, I just realized I asked the wrong person.” You looked around and wanted to ask Phoenix when you spotted Bob. You repeated the question again. Poor Bob looked tortured and admitted it had happened quiet often. 

“Some people even see it as a challenge, especially when more people are around,” Phoenix chimed in who had come over when she spotted you with her back seater. 

“If someone tells me they’re not interested, why should I humiliate myself and try harder?” Jake wondered. 

“Oh Jake, if only everyone would be that way,” you patted his arm and didn’t know why you were surprised that it was quite hard under your touch. “The thing is I’m at work, a little flirting is okay, but people seem to forget that the later it gets. And the easiest way to get them to back off and not cause a scene is this one.” You held up your ring to show him. “This works way better than the I’ve got a boyfriend excuse and don’t even get me started on the girlfriend option.” 

“So why not say anything to me?” Jake finally asked. 

You shrugged. “How should I have known you’d be different back then? And you already noticed it. I didn’t know if you were really interested and that you started asking questions.” 

“Just wanted to make sure you know if you say the word I’ll back down. Will you say the word?” His eyebrow rose while he stared at you, waiting for your answer. 

“Jury is still out. My break is over, if you want to see me you must visit me at the bar,” you threw a wink at Jake before you walked back to the kitchen to return the dishes. 

+ 1 time you didn't need the ring

“Hey darling, okay for me to come in?” you heard Jakes before you saw him. He was standing in the doorway with the sun behind him, so you told yourself this was the reason it was hard to look at him. 

“Sure,” you nodded and he stepped inside. “You alone?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed and walked towards the bar where you were stacking glasses. “I’m actually here to tell you we’re leaving for a short while so you wouldn’t worry about,” he kind of rambled at the end it caused you to look up at him and stop your task. 

“Are you nervous?” you finally asked. 

“Me? Never!” He tried to sound confident, but you saw right through him. 

“You know how long you’ll be gone?” The walk around the counter towards him was quick and you put your arms around him and pulled him close to you to your first actual hug. It didn’t take him long to return the gesture and his arms found their way around your middle. 

“Not allowed to share,” he mumbled and you noticed how some weight dropped from his shoulder. 

“Okay, well come back safe.”  

He promised you that and let go after a while. It seemed like neither of you were ready for that. 

“Hangman!” He stopped at your yelling just before he was about to leave the place. “Bring back everyone else home too.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted and left quickly. 

- 

“Keep them coming, sweets. And add whatever you want to and join us.” 

“Thank you, I’m working. But I’ll bring a new round shortly,” you said and sidestepped the table and the outstretched arm to go back to the bar. So far this group wasn’t a real bother, but you had to be careful when the night progressed. And three rounds later they got kind of rowdy telling you to join them again. It was more demanding this time. 

“Is there a problem here?” you suddenly heard a voice behind you and when you turned around you saw Jake behind you. Before you could think about it your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and you hugged him. 

“You’re back! Are you okay, are the others?” Over his shoulder you could see Fanboy, Rooster and Coyote while you spotted a few others making their way over to the pool table. 

“You haven’t answered his question. Is there a problem here?” Roosters smile that he sent your way was gone quickly when he mustered the guys at the table. 

“No problem here at all,” one man said with his arms raised in defense. 

“I sure hope so, we have no problem throwing you overboard,” Jake told them and took your hand and pulled you towards the bar. “Where is your ring?” he asked when he noticed the lack of jewelry. 

“Don’t know. Felt kind of wrong wearing it now,” you shrugged. 

“How about we make a deal?” he asked and you just realized how close the two of you were. “You don’t have to wear it when I’m around. I’ll take care of everything then. You can wear it when I’m not here and you can tell them that you have someone that already takes care of you.” 

“Do I?” you asked cheekily, but you had also noticed that everything had shifted with Jake. And his lack of flirting with others. 

“Always had. Let me take you out,” he said and everything else disappeared when his forehead pressed against yours and he stared into your eyes. 

“Okay,” you breathed, and your lips almost touched. “But I must get back to work now. See you in my break?” you asked and he nodded which caused you to laugh as your faces were still touching. “See you later, Jake.” You finally walked away and didn’t see the clap Jake got on his back from his friends while he still looked after you with a lovesick look on his face. 

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Shamefully Rollo is one of my favs, so I mean how about a prompt on Yandere!Rollo bring clingy to Yuu

Or

Rollo post-festival being friends with Yuu and it becomes something more(plus angst with yk him being very two faced w/ trauma and all 🤷‍♀️)

this one is more focused on the first prompt, but I also sorta did my own thing, but I’m proud of it!!! Enjoy, lovey!

{takes place after the Glorious masquerade event, and based on an idea from another writer where Rollos punishment is to attend NRC.}

warnings: yes, this is yandere content, I’m a yandere blog who just happens to write my characters soft. Thoughts of somnophillia, Rollo is a heavy worshipper, male masturbation, pathetic Rollo (no different from canon), Rollo makes out with you while you’re in a deep sleep caused by a potion he slipped into your food, creepy Rollo, small hint of yandere Azul, Riddle, and Malleus, pussystarved Rollo are any of my characters NOT pussy starved? A little bit of masochist Rollo.

Fragile.

Rollo loved you, that was for certain.

He loved the way you fidgeted with your writing utensils or your clothes when you were bored and occasionally distracted, the way the sun caught in your stunning (h/c) hair, the way your gorgeous, dreamer eyes constantly flitted about and took in your surroundings with never fading intrigue and liveliness.

He loved the way you were laid stretched out in front of him currently, sleeping and unaware of him creeping about your room.

Ever since you had stepped onto the property of Nobel Bell College with those damned NRC students, he had taken a special interest in you. You, who was magicless and surrounded by wolves who would tear you apart and taint you at a seconds notice out of their own selfishness. In his eyes, you needed protection from harm. After all, you appeared to be such a fragile thing, but…

Rollo could not have been more wrong.

After the whole Crimson Lotus fiasco, the reveal of his plans to rid twisted wonderland of magic, the knowledge of what happened to his brother, it was you, you, magicless, wonderful, compassionate you who held his delicate and crumbling self together in the aftermath. It was you who cradled him in your arms like he was fine china and used your own body to shield him from the smoldering glares of your friends, as your kindness pierced his very soul like a dagger made out of pure gold.

It was you and you alone who could fill his body with such heat it nearly suffocated him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was your name he whimpered and sobbed pathetically to himself when he was breaking down or desperately rutting into his fist, the thought of your touch the only thing he could focus on.

When the time came for you and the rest of the NRC students to leave, it took every bit of Rollos self restraint to keep from lashing out, especially when a certain Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, and Riddle Rosehearts had all stood protectively in front of you when he tried to pull you aside to give you a personal farewell.

It would have been so easy to spirit you away to the bell tower or his room, if only he had been able to get you alone.

Rollo despised magic with all his being, and even more so he hated himself for being born with such a gift. However, as he watched you give him one last pitying look before finally departing, he was thankful for the small spell he murmured which transported a pair of your underwear from your packed clothes to underneath the fabric of his uniform. Now, Rollo was not a man who appreciated pity, and never saw himself as an individual who would accept such pathetic sentiments, but later that night as he held the fabric of your underwear to his face and frantically bucked his hips into his precum covered hand, he found himself thinking that he would accept any look from you that came his way as long as it was just that. That you were looking at him. Paying attention to him, even if it was delivered in the form of anger or the pity he seemed to despise so much.

Rollo had seldom gotten off before meeting you, and even then he never got off to anyone or anything, simply chasing his high with a blank mind for stress relief and always feeling revolted by himself afterwards. You had been the one to walk into his life and change that. Of course you had. Now Rollo struggled to go a day without cuming to the thought of you, imagining your gentle touch all over his aching body as you kissed him with as much love as he felt for you.

Enough love to harm someone for simply looking at you the wrong way.

Of course, Nobel bell college was not just going to ignore what he had done. Rollo knew better than that. It took the school a full week to decide upon a proper punishment, during which he only left his dorm for meals and to maintain the bell tower, which gave him plenty of time to think and fantasize about you. He wondered if you thought about him at all, about his thinly veiled fragile state that you had seen him in last.

Rollo was well aware that being transferred to NRC was supposed to be a punishment, that he would most likely be looked down upon and treated ruthlessly, but it took every ounce of self control to keep a giddy grin off of his face at the prospect of seeing you again. That being said, the shock that painted itself on his pale face again you opened the door to the Ramshackle dorm, the place he was now supposed to live, was near comical. Immediately, he had brought his purple handkerchief to his mouth, desperate to save face and regain his composure.

“Greetings, prefect.” Rollo had murmured hastily.

At seeing the normally cold former student president being so shy, a gentle smile had spread across your perfect, pretty lips. Lips that Rollo wanted to kiss him breathless, lips that Rollo had fantasized about covering the expanse of his flesh in bruising kisses and bites until he was so thoroughly marked up he couldn’t possibly hide them all.

Lips that Rollo was willing to kill for to keep all to himself.

“Hi, Rollo. How many times do I have to tell you that you can just call me (y/n)?” You had said, teasingly pulling his handkerchief away from his lips and flicking his nose before pulling him inside as he flushed crimson, bringing him to his current position.

—————————————————————————

Rollo was standing over your bed, watching as you slept without any interruptions, curtesy of the sleeping potion he had brewed just mere hours earlier. The moonlight spilled from your open curtains, highlighting your beautiful form as deep breathes moved your frame. Kneeling down beside the bed, Rollo moved his face close to yours and moved his hand to cup your face, absentmindedly stroking your cheek and swiping his tongue over his lips. You looked so peaceful and serene, not to mention warm underneath your blankets, and Rollo couldn’t deny himself the overwhelming urge to crawl into bed with you and cuddle. He had already moved a drugged Grimm away into another room, so there was nothing that could interrupt his time alone with you.

Eagerly, Rollo pulled back the covers on your bed and ensnared himself between your arms, your foreheads pressed against each other as he nuzzled your nose with his own. As his gaze fell to your lips, a small smile pulled on his own as he slowly started to lean forward, desperate for even just a little bit of your love whether fabricated or not. The moment his lips locked with yours, a needy moan reverberated from his mouth to yours. The relief of finally being able to touch you was getting to Rollo as his thoughts became cloudy and his legs tangled with yours. The kiss was clumsy and shaky, like a fawn learning to stand for the first time, as Rollo wrapped his arms around you and pressed his body flush against yours, his skin burning with heat. If you had been awake, you might have likened the way he practically devoured your mouth to the way of a man getting his first taste of food in years.

Moving one of his hands to yours, he slowly brought your entwined fingers up to his hair, positioning your digits in the white locks as he used his own to tighten your grasp and lightly tug on the sensitive strands, moaning as he imagined you lightly tilting his head back so you could access his neck and dig your teeth into his skin. The thought of his blood on your teeth was an appealing one, the scarlet red contrasting against your beautiful skin. Rollo made another keening noise, free to be as loud as he wanted as no one else who could wake up was around, when he brought your hand from his hair down to his throat and forced your fingers to squeeze around the sides of his neck like a vice, his mind wandering to different scenarios where you decided to dish out your own punishment to him for trying to hurt those disgusting magic users you called friends. He imagined your hand wrapped around his throat as you pulled him in for bruising kisses, only to tie his hands above his head, unable to touch you more than what you would allow.

“Did you really think I had forgotten about what you tried to pull?” You would mock as your nails traced teasing lines over his thighs as you straddled him.

“Are you really so foolish to believe that I wouldn’t notice that you swiped my underwear when I left? Honestly, you’re such a perv.”

Oh, and how Rollo would whine and beg for your touch, he thought to himself. How he would agree and beg for you to give him your own special brand of justice.

“Did you think I would just let you get away with it? Hm? No, no, no, my love, I was simply waiting for the perfect time to punish you, and now-” you would lean over him and harshly pinch the tip of his cock, causing him to whine and squirm as he looked up at you with teary eyes. “-I have you right where I want you.”

“Please, please, please, please! I was a fool! I know I was! Punish me! Do anything you want to me! Just let me prove myself to be worthy of you!”

He would tug on his restraints, but other than that, Rollo would be more than content to be your little plaything for as long as he lived.

Using his thumb and forefinger on his other hand, he gently grasped your chin and moved your jaw down before wrapping his arms around you again, connecting his lips in another searing kiss as his tongue began to invade your mouth. Small whimpers were muffled by your mouth as Rollo became all too aware of how pitifully hard he was in his pajama pants, his hips rolling against yours in a desperate attempt to gain friction from your sleeping form. Tears ran down his face as he separated from you for the briefest moment to tug himself out from beneath his waistband, his reddened cock already leaking precum. Rollo turned back to face you and immediately wrapped his arms around you once more, rutting against you as more moans and choked sobs spilled from his puffy lips before they were swiftly connected to yours with fervor.

“Oh, please, please, (y/n)! I need you so bad, but I don’t deserve it! I’m just a disgusting pervert who doesn’t deserve to be near you, someone so pure. Mm~ mmmm~ but I want it, want you! Need you! Mm, mm, mm, ah!~ please!~”

Moving his hips faster, Rollo began to pant and bite his lip, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh and causing it to bleed. Moving his tongue to lick up the blood and keep it from staining anything on your bed, Rollo imagined using the wet appendage to please you. Imagined kneeling between your spread thighs and desperately drinking down all that you had to offer as you pet his hair and praised him, calling him a good boy. Just the mere thought of getting your cum on his tongue made his cock twitch and his hips stutter in his rhythm, not like he had much of one to begin with anyway. He was trying to hold himself back, trying to make the moment last as long as possible, trying to do his best to learn how to hold out for you so that when the real thing happened he wouldn’t embarrass himself by cumming pitifully early. Trying wasn’t enough. While he was grinding against you, your pajama shirt had slid up slightly without Rollo noticing, and all it took was for the head of his cock to lightly brush against the warm skin of your tummy for his lips to part in a near shout of your name before a thick white liquid coated the area and his abdomen.

Coming down from his high, Rollo pulled you as close as possible as the last twitches and jerks of his hips died down. Finally collecting himself slightly, Rollo pulled his pajama pants back up and shifted his face down to the sperm that coated your skin. He could practically hear you say, “clean up your mess, Rollo. Like a good boy.”, and that’s exactly what he planned to do. Carefully, Rollo began to lick up the mess he had made over your soft skin, his eyes half lidded as the exhaustion of staying up so late began to take its toll on him. Gulping down the last of his cum, Rollo quickly crawled back up to your face and pulled you in for a long, loving kiss. The potion would keep you asleep for a good few hours still, and he had enough faith in his internal alarm clock to wake up before you and go back to his own room, so for now he was going to cuddle you and sleep in bed with you until then.

“Goodnight, (y/n). I love you.”

After pulling you into his arms and checking you over to make sure you were completely alright and comfortable, Rollo finally allowed his fragile and damaged mind to drift off to sleep.

[rbr4c1ng]

Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe explain the bus bros fallout or p2p gate or pretty much all of the McLaughlin-Newgarden lore to me since I'm only getting in to IndyCar now and I want to be caught up before the 500. I understand this is a big ask but I've seen that youve posted about it and I just NEED to know. Any links to other pieces of lore would also be much apreciated. Completely understand if you don't want to write anything though so thank you so much I advance!! <3

YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL EXPLAIN! this is my special interest dw i could write an 18 page essay about their lore.

SO basically scott came into indycar from supercars in 2020-2021 ish and him a josef started getting along like super well, which is honestly a bit odd bc josef is known to not really let people get so close to him, so scotty is a bit of an outlier in that respect.

eventually! they make bus bros!!! wooooo everyone loves it etc etc they have fun making it…. until they don’t! leading up to their breakup there were QUITE a few clues that they knew it was gonna end in flames like scott talked about it on off track (see audio excerpt below) and on hot seats with hinch if i remember correctly?

there’s also a fair share of articles that mention it. they basically knew it was inevitable but i don’t think anyone thought it was gonna happen so quickly??

so then the winter break leading into the 2024 szn happened! this is about when i started getting really into bus bros and was honestly pretty present for some of this shit (i was at the daytona 24 and st pete so i’ve got some first hand evidence but we will get to that later)… anyways so the rumors start going around that bus bros is over around?? st pete time i think??? a little bit earlier. which is odd given that they seemed okay with each other at the daytona 24, even though i thought it was strange that they weren’t both on tower motorsports anymore cause josef switched to penske porsche but GENERALLY it seemed okay (although based on this pic idk their relationship seems a little charged atp but it’s all speculation really)

then after the rumors come out i think it was jenna fryer’s article that did it in? (idk it has a paywall on it for me right now and i don’t care enough to find it here but there’s definitely excerpts floating around) now i do recommend to take anything jenna fryer says with a grain of salt bc she is essentially a gossip columnist for all intents and purposes. but the article basically said that josef and scotty were done and scott wouldn’t answer any questions about it and was only saying that they’re fine or to ask josef about it (tea from todays 100 days to indy episode actually…). they promptly took down the bus bros merch site and have been relatively quiet since then. at st pete they talked on the podium and didn’t seem too bad but i’ve seen other clips where they won’t even sit next to each other or speak to each other so take that as you will. podiums are pretty much just publicity, cameras everywhere, you’d probably want to seem at least cordial with your teammate.

(pic 1 is mine, pic 2 is a pic of my tv from todays episode LMFAO)

so heres where most of the speculative stuff comes in. Josef dissolved his media company, unfollowed everyone, and cancelled bus bros leading into the 2024 season because he wanted to “get rid of distractions”, and really we could leave it at that, but i find it hard to believe that that’s the only thing that happened.

Josef is the dictionary definition of Penske Perfect, you won’t get any closer to it than him. he’s fucking OBSESSED with this idea of being perfect. perfect season, perfect body, perfect car, perfect team. obviously this isn’t feasible, but scotty seemed to have broken through that block in his little Penske Perfect brain and got him to LIGHTEN UP A BIT. and then the 2023 season happened. sure, josef won the indy 500 but it was one of his worst season finishes in a while and, to make matters worse, scott BEAT him. little scotty mac, supercars champion transplant from 2021 beat josef newgarden at his own fucking game after breaking down his walls and making him soft. i can see how that scared josef honestly. so he ended it. Scott doesn’t see things on a plane of winning/losing imo, everything is just experience for him. hell, he didn’t even know if he would end up in indycar and he sure as hell didn’t think he’d win races so soon AND beat his teammate. to josef, it’s JUST winning/losing. if he’s losing, he needs to be better. and he lost sight of that for the 2023 season. that’s why he had to come back and put an end to the shenanigans bc he knows scott makes him soft.

but that’s just my speculation!!!!! literally could just be nothing. maybe it is to josef, but i know for a FACT it isn’t to scott.

OH and with the p2pgate stuff! basically they had a component in their car that. was not supposed to be there! that prevented race control from turning off their push to pass like normal. (marshall pruitt has a rlly good article explaining it all here) and they were caught in long beach when race control forgot to turn on the push to pass during the sunday warm up and HMMMMM why do the penske cars still have it???? when has this happened before??? oh ok st pete! now they’re disqualified. josef used 9 seconds of p2p when it was not enabled and scotty only used 1.9 and will used none. so i’m led to believe that it was a josef-centered choice IF it was intentional to use the p2p when it was supposed to be inactive.

now josef really laid down the water works for that press conference at barber to the point that i was having a VERY hard time watching it. i felt bad for the guy. he seemed really fucking upset and i almost believe that it WASNT on purpose but. it’s just too good to be true right?

honestly i think this all could tie back to the downfall of bus bros in that scott maybe didn’t want to do the p2p thing but josef was willing to? and maybe that caused some sort of divide between them bc then again for josef it’s about Winning No Matter What, and yes scott wants to win but cheating isn’t the way for him. idk.

for more of their lore when they WERE friends, watch bus bros (duh), admit one, 100 days to indy, scott learns america: nashville, hot seats with hinch, and listen to scott’s episode on off track with hinch and rossi! also there are some very brief interactions between them on some older penske games videos before bus bros was even a thing but it’s not much. there are more but i can’t think of them rn…

sorry for rambling, if you have any more qs feel free to ask!!! i’m always available for brain picking :)

[groupiegallagher]

i genuinely don't know what gin @destroya2005 is exactly going through and i hope they seek help, because stalking on/off my blog, others blogs that interact with me, making up vile nonsense stories about me in which i get falsely acussed of harassment among other gross things, that right there only means self-projection.

that is clown idiocracy, that is energy from chronically online losers.

who desperately look to pour their own suffering on people who have done nothing but minding their own business like me. as much as i know how that must suck, none of this is my fault.

i was ignored when i spoke about the mini cult was toxic to me, then i was blacklisted from billy hargrove tumblr by that exact mini cult in which one person i thought i was close friends with decided to betray me for one or the three leaders of that cult instead i was ignored and errased. the same people who were sharing certain call out posts questioning them, a lot of them still ended befriending those three people anyways. i could have reacted worse, i could have exposed much more than what i said about those three people, i could have spent the limited time i have on my devices to it bitching and rightfully.

the people who decided to abandon me and believe those three people was people i also got rid of. i literally was on all my motherfucking right to do much worse.

did i do that? no

did i proceed to spend my energy on other things i'm into? yes.

every day i'm less and less here. i'm here sharing pretty content and personal tastes. i stopped caring about billy hargrove/harringrove content since june. why do these people who struggle with chronically online disease still chose to paint me as a threat when i'm no longer in that community anymore? i don't get this obsession in particular. specially when the individuals, the source where the acussations come from, refuse to talk to me and hide behind their blogs and minions, same minions that told me to k*ll myself, called me a fat whore and acussed me of transphobia through anon. nobody wants to talk about that either tho lol.

its easier to still make me their scapegoat of all their suffering and whatever demons they are dealing with.

me and this person haven't spoken since june. she decided to side with people who hurt me and crucified me for speaking up. i returned the energy, accepted it and moved on.

y'all are having your mouths foaming over a fucking show that sucks over a fandom with the most terrifying reputation including the billy hargrove side that is no better than steddies and eddies here y'all are going apeshit over a show everybody fucking hates these days. fucking chose better.

i shouldn't be a threat to the community. they took over it. i don't know what else do this cult wants from me. they got what they wanted long time ago.

gin, my messages are open. either talk to me like the grown ass adult you are suposed to be, cut the shady ass passive/agressive vague crap or leave me the fuck alone. déjate de mamadas pendeja.

[arkiwii]

I saw in one of your other posts that you said you had so many headcannons about Silence's bird arms. I'd love to hear some of them if you have the time! (Love how you draw her btw <3)

ow man the Silence's wings headcanons, on my way to throw them at ur face, hope you will enjoy them

So of course I go from the principle she can shapeshift her arms into wings and arms whenever, which is pretty much canon already

but i have headcanons on when and why she shapeshift them;

- when needing to feel comfortable. It helps her to destress, it's quite comfortable and soft to feel feathers, and well, it literally lifts a weight off her shoulders, since wings are lighters than arms. So it tends to also happen when she's sleepy

- when feeling cold, of course hands tend to freeze, but not feathers! keep her arms all warm and can be used as a big wing blanket protection. well sadly, because it's owl wings, so owls feathers, she avoid showing her wings when it's raining, because owls feathers aren't waterproof, they get all soggy. on the contrary, she rather have arms when it's hot, but sometimes can use wings to fan herself

- bird hugs! yes what, she enjoys giving wing hugs sometimes, they're soft and comfy, especially to Ifrit, mom bird behavior. and since she's not very tactile, having wings rather than arms make it less awkward to her

- when surprised or scared, it's kinda instinctively that it happens. so it can lead her to drop whatever she has in her hands at this moment. thankfully, it's hard to surprise her because she has a very good hearing, but Kafka sometimes managed to, leading to some experiments being lost on the ground...

- to assert dominance. yes, she does the defensive owl pose. she's so short and small, so she tries to make herself look bigger, especially when arguing with Saria (who thinks this is very cute). it doesn't really work because she just become a fluff ball, but it can be impressive, probably

- she would also tend to lose feathers due to stress, she can sometimes have the habit to pick her own feathers when really nervous or stressed, which is of course not very healthy, it's good to stop her when you spot her doing it. she tries to not but habits aren't all easy to get rid of

- a last one because I was talking about it yesterday, special wing sleeves! basically, i imagine her clothes are made in a way to allow her wings to be free with a zipper, example image i did

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Reviews: The London Special

Okay, I wasn't expecting this to drop so soon! Let's go! Maker-breaker! This is post-season 5 finale! I'm practicing all my negative reactions just in case!

Oh. That's Lila. Or "Lila."

Surreal-looking intro sequence. Cool!

Triangular prism chess

Old Lady Alix

Get noclipped

Exposition

Wait, she's into them kissing now? Or is she just done with their bullshit?

Gabriel making the wish is supposed to happen? That causes the apocalypse! That's probably why reality ended!

So the Miraculous big bang undid the nightmare phenomenon? Noted.

So the wish didn't cause the apocalypse? Goddamnit show, be consistent with the lore!

Kagami yes!

Kagami no!

Wait, is Marinette impacted by the wish? Is that why she won't tell Adrien? Is she mind-controlled?

Actually, looking at her, Bug Noire does look more like she's a puppet,

She won't come clean.

"No. I'll just use a key card instead."

Yes! Tell him!

I think she's being forced by the wish. Phew.

Honestly, this might be as bad as telling the truth to him. Probably worse, since he can tell something's up.

Yes! Kill! Wait no! She's covering Shitmoth's tracks!

Oh god. She's telling everyone this.

Also where is Felix in all of this? Where's that genocidal bastard?

Shitmoth won.

Well, at least the Kwamis are safe.

Lying to Alya

No, no you didn't.

So you can adjust the wish to cause the apocalypse? Why didn't they just say that?

Construction Marinette

Meta humor

Jaundicebug. Couldn't Ladybug just keep on the bright vest?

Not really, considering that apparently Miraculous canon exists in the same world as Ghost Force. Dummy.

Noclip

Just summon your lucky charm already, dummy. You already know their powers.

Maaybe get her for that if she's doing it of her own volition?

And what would those bigger problems be? That the plot is harder to comprehend?

Wait, is this just recycled scenes from the season finale?

So no one's dead and cloned. Phew.

No, Gabriel was never Adrien's father.

Alternatively, you could've just not detransformed, confiscated the rest of his rings, and arrested his ass.

One of the few London references

So akumatizing yourself gets rid of your memories? Or do people always forget when akumatized?

And yet they still got hit by the nightmare gas when Tomoe somehow didn't. What the fuck.

And you can't tell everyone else either. Like, why are you doing this? You could just not do this. Unleash the truth. Unleash justice.

Thinking with portals

Just open the portal a bit larger.

He'll have the Gorilla.

Nathalie's cooking here.

No it won't.

And the other half is a lie.

You think no one will ever know? Someone will know. Someone will find out, and they'll tell Adrien at his lowest. And that'll be a thousand times worse than just telling him the truth upfront.

Braid tail

Getting some Freddy Five Nights vibes here

Teleporter battle!

Stuck in the void

Wait, I'm pretty sure Alix was back during that happy days illusion pool sequence thing. Was that fake?

Admittedly, "both have their ups and downs" was one of the better answers to that.

New animation style

Well that didn't have much to do with London aside from the time travel crap being an allusion to Doctor Who and the Sherlock reference. Is it because British people suck? Either way, this was less of a special and more of stuff that should've been added to the season 5 finale. Their explanation of lying wasn't too bad, though. They explained that Marinette did this of her own will and had her stick to it, ultimately. I'm just glad they explained that no, everyone didn't die. I hope the side heroes get to kick Felix's ass for what he did in the new season. Bitch has it coming. And yeah, Lilamoth's going to spill the beans to Adrien one way or another.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Drama CD Hijikata Biyori Track 35 Eng

After track 36, I think there are 4 biyori specials I've got tl for that remain untranslated (though I'm not 100% sure of that...), and then I'm sorta debating about translating the Hakuoki x Sengoku Night Blood crossover main story (I can't do anything but the main story, which is in 5 parts 😅. also this is all your fault koto 😝).

Anyway, this month, I'm likely just going to stick to posting on Friday or Saturday. My workday ends at 2pm on Friday this month so it'll probably be easier to post then... that is assuming I can finish game testing beforehand (been speed-running but it takes time...).

Hakuoki Hijikta Biyori Track 35: Return

English translation by KumoriYami

Hijikata: I'm, back.

Kondou: Ooh, you've worked hrd, Toshi.

Hijikta: Oh?....What, it's just Kondou-san.

Kondou: What? That's a terrible thing to say.

Hijikta: Haha, Sorry. I thought one of the other members would be here.

Kondou: Ahahaha... I see, I see/really, really. Were they scared by me? It seems that I did something wrong to Toshi.

Hijikta: No, it's nothing like that…

Kondou: Come on, don't stand there forever, come inside and go get some rest.

Toudou: The Eighth Division has returned!

Kondou: Oh! It's Heisuke. Thank you for your hard work.

Hijikata: Good work.

Toudou: Hey what's going on? You two are actully greeting me? What happened?

Hijikta: What are you saying. I just got back too.

Toudou: Oh, I see. I was really surprised since I thought that something had hppened for Kondou-san and Hijikata-san to come greet me. Well, this makes me feel better.

Hijikata: Then you'll have to work hard to make up for it.

Kondou: Oh, that's right. Heisuke even looks like he wants to keep working.

Toudou: What!? Wait, even Kondou-san!

Kondou: Hahahaha! I ws just kidding, just kidding! You can head inside and go rest, Heisuke.

Hijikata: Sorry, Kondou-san.

Kondou: What's wrong, why raeyou suddenly saying that. s, all of a sudden.

Hijikata: Ah... You obviously have things to do, and I kept you here.

Kondou: What are you talking about?

Hijikata: You were going to go somewhere, weren't you? You were at standing right by the entrance… Toudou: Ah, what. If that's the case, just say that, Kondou-san. I'll open this now, so wait a moment.

Kondou: No, I wsan't going anywhere.

Hijikata: Huh?

Todou: Really?

Hijikata: If you weren't going anywhere, what were you doing here?

Kondou: I wsa only thinking that you'd be returning soon, so I came to greet you.

Hijikata: Is that all?

Kondou: That's right…

Hijikata:…What's wrong, Kondou-san?

Kondou: Should I not have?

Hijikata: No, it's not like that…

Todou: Thank you, Kondou-san! I, Todou Heisuke, have returned safely!

Kondo: Nn, I see. I'm glad that you're safe.

Toudou: Of course. Kondou-san really worries a lot. Right, Hijikta-san.

Hijikata: Yeah… that's right. Kondou-san, we're not that weak. We'll definitely return safely. So, don't waste your precious time on something trivial like this.

Toudou: Yes, that's right.

Kondou: I see. Haha, that's true. But… I've had a lot of things to worry about lately.

Hijikata: In that case, I'll at least get rid of one of them. Hijkta Toshizou has safely returned.

Kondou: Ah, welcome back, Toshi.

---end---

[wheresyoureta]

some killjoys past headcanons part 2!!!! doing ghoul this time

last time i did the venom sibs and its my most popular post to this day so its time for my favourite little guy to be in the spotlight. i love him a lot okay

ghoul was born in a mexican family, who lived in the us close to the frontier. he had an older sister, a father and a mother.

ghoul was around four years old when BLI found them. his parents got killed but managed to get him and his sister to escape.

they catched them pretty quickly, though, and his sister got killed as well. they left him in the desert with some minor injuries, thinking he would die from dehydratation or get eaten by the rare animals that were still left in the desert at the time.

turns out he didnt. he somehow managed to stay alive. he barely knew how to talk, couldnt walk for long and had pretty much never interacted with people apart of his family.

he survived next years eating pretty much only trash, sleeping in the desert and running away from every people he saw from fear of being killed like his family. he got a lot of the scars he has to this day in thoses times

and one day, he met kobra.

if you didnt read my previous post and are too lazy to, kobra escaped gravel gerties (where he was living with party and jet and from where he had pretty much never gotten out) and got lost in the desert.

ghoul didnt know how to react when he saw kobra, but there was something about him- maybe the way he walked, slightly bent like he was scared of something, maybe the way his eyes darted from side to side like he didnt know where he was- he just knew kobra wasnt a threat.

ghoul treated human and animals the same way; and the best thing he thought of for making sure, completely sure that kobra wasnt dangerous was throwing an empty can down the hill, like for a dog, and when he saw that kobra actually went and got it, he got completely rid of any fear he had left.

ghoul didnt know how to talk. he remembered a few words of spanish, but all thoses years of being completely by himself made him forget pretty much everything.

kobra didnt really care, though. its not like he was good at talking either.

(also ghoul was around 14 at the time and kobra was 15)

they spent the next three months together, ghoul learning kobra how to survive (lots of the things he learned with ghoul saved his life later) and kobra learning ghoul how to do basic things like talk properly, act like a "civilized" person, etc

when kobra find his way back to gravel gerties, and found party and jet, ghoul thought he was going to be alone again. and weirdly, it terryfied him. because he had gotten used to kobras present, to the feeling of having someone watching your back, to the sensation of waking up and not being freezing cold, to have someone to hug. he didnt want to be alone.

and then kobra offered him to stay. and he just couldnt refuse, because he was tired, tired of having to worry about not being seen, tired to not know if you were going to eat next day, tired to not be able to really live.

and he accepted.

at first, ghoul was really startled by everything around- the people, mostly- but he got used to it. a lot was thanks to jet, who took special care of him, learning him to read and write and talk. and ghoul was happy, to have people who cared, people like party and jet and kobra.

he did have some troubles. he got in fights a lot, he has abandomnent issues and is scared of being alone. he has a lots of nightmares- and cant sleep in complete darkness.

he managed his anger by going to the zones fight ring. yes because i think theres a zone fight ring and if you disagree i will punch you

also he bites

(made this pretty quickly too so forgive me if theres mistakes)

[drk-mnd-fds]

Hello can you give us more facts on fallen dreamswap

Of course, no problem!

In fact, I would like to create just 1 large document with all the information, but I think I would edit it many more times, since I am constantly trying to find my own non-logical solutions in the canon and correct them.

It's useless enough for me to talk: "Tell me anything," because I get lost, I want to tell you everything at once, I keep repeating myself and so on, it's better to ask something specific. I have already told you the basics, but you still need to look for it in my posts below...

Well... I'll start the story, I'll tell you a few facts per character. I will try not to repeat myself with the last post, I will write facts that I did not mention somewhere other than my discord server, but rather that I did not post them on my discord server at all.

Nightmare.

– In fact, Nightmare won't be much stronger than Dream. Dream gained strength by eating 198 positive apples, the strength of Nightmare is equal if he ate somewhere around 90-100 negative apples. They both take out battles only at the expense of their skills. Nightmare is lower, faster and more agile, so he manages to dodge, he can't inflict any special injuries on Dream.

Dream changed negative energy to positive energy in Nightmare, since the nature of Nightmare is not used to and is not able to carry positive energy, so the negative began to absorb the positive, we can say that the negative returned in greater volume. The nature of Nightmare decided to make the negativity bigger and worse, just so that a similar situation would not happen again. It's just a defensive reaction of nature and the balance of the universe.

– Sometimes Nightmare experiences pain in the bones, but for this it must be surrounded by a lot of positivity. During the negative incident, the bones of Nightmare broke in some places, so that not only the back was damaged, but also the rest of the bones. In a couple of days, Nightmare has grown by 5 cm, so he is 170 cm tall.

– Nightmare sometimes experiences panic attacks at night, he wakes up from a strong feeling of heat in his body, anxiety makes it difficult for him to breathe and collect his thoughts. This state brings him back to the day of the negative incident, as these are the emotions he experienced when negativity filled his body again.

– There is a possibility that if you change negative energy to positive energy in Nightmare again, then Nightmare's body will not stand up and he will die.

– Nightmare is like a mother hen for Kevin, he began to protect him more. If Cross or Error accidentally offend Kevin, then Nightmare will start threatening them, but it won't come to action, he won't kill his friends.

– Yes, I make Nightmare look like a complete bastard, but in fact he won't leave any of his friends in trouble. Negativity gives him strength, but he will rather help his friends get rid of negative emotions so that they do not suffer.

– He feels that something is wrong with Error still can't figure out what it is.

– kinn song –  Robbie Williams - Party Like A Russian

Cross.

– Cross regrets what he did to Chara. During one of his rages, Cross was able to completely get rid of Chara.

– A kleptomaniac of 100500 level will not hold him, even if the thing is tightly glued to the place.

What? A new wardrobe and sofa in the BHS house? Nothing new.... WAIT, CROSS STOLE IT FROM SOMEONE AGAIN!

Cross, okay, you stole the vase... WHERE DID YOU TAKE THE CLOSET?! PUT THE CLOSET BACK IN PLACE!

– Cross will always be on the side of Nightmare. Yes, they sometimes have light fights, from which Cross leaves the loser, but still Cross does not know what must happen for him to betray Nightmare.

Cross was very angry with Dream when he saw what happened to Nightmare after the negative incident, Cross was ready to immediately go to JR Castle to deal with everyone there. Cross was not allowed anywhere by Error, who simply tied him to a chair.

– If we talk about strength, then Cross will be stronger than Nightmare, but still Cross will never fight Nightmare in full force.

– An idiot who can sometimes just fight with Nightmare.

– TURN BACK THE INSTINCT OF SELF-PRESERVATION TO CROSS!

– Cross sleeps with a stuffed penguin.

– kinn song –  GHOST - Honey I'm Home

Error.

– If you suddenly realize that coffee has disappeared all over the world, then know that Error bought it all.

– The mom of the band

is the very person who always stops Cross and Nightmare from making hasty decisions.

– Sometimes he can spend the whole night knitting, so in the morning there may be few things that can be taken to the shelter.

–  If the Error is on the verge of hysteria, then he will run away from the BHS house deeper into the forest so as not to disturb others and not feed the negative energy of the Nightmare once again. An Error can run away even in what he walked around the house in. At such moments, it is better not to touch him, he reacts very sharply even to touches from friends

– Error can often go to OuterTale, he bought himself a small house there a long time ago, just to take a break from everything, I can compare it to a sleeping cat in his favorite cot.

– When no one is at home, Error can do baking

– On missions, he often takes a secretive position and stays somewhere in the bushes, just to watch and be alert, although sometimes he can take an active part in the battle, even if he does not like it.

– He will sit quietly in an armchair with Kevin on his head and drink coffee, sometimes giving Kevin seeds, watching how Cross and Nightmare argue over small things.

– kinn song –  Set It Off - Horrible Kids

Dream.

– Dream is very sorry for what he did to Nightmare. Dream did not think that the negativity would return, he just hoped that the positive energy would simply replace the negative one and they could continue to live peacefully.

– Dream reviews all his notes on energy replacement several times a month, but he still cannot find a mistake in them.

– Dream keeps a photo of Nightmare on his desktop before the negative incident. Nightmare photo stands next to Anya's photo.

– There is a rumor that Dream adds a little cognac to his coffee or tea.

– Who knows when and how long he slept? Why did he manage to spend a couple of hours a day reviewing his notes, as well as filling out documents, being at a meeting at the shelter, helping Ink and much more?!

In fact, Dream just needs 5-6 hours of sleep to get enough sleep, and of course, the positive will give him energy

– Now he I want to swear much more often, but he restrains himself, still he does not like obscene language.

– Dream SAW how Error took things to the shelter, but he would never bring up this topic in front of anyone.

– kinn song –  Vundabar - Alien Blues

Ink.

– Sometimes he experiences phantom pains in his arm.

– The Ink was offered to make several more types of prostheses, but he refuses, saying that one is enough for him, which he wears on a regular basis.

By the way, the attachment of the prosthesis can be compared to the anime "Fullmetal Alchemist", before that the prosthesis moved exclusively on magic, but after watching the anime, I decided to change the device of the prosthesis.

– Dream is almost the only one who can help Ink with the prosthesis. Dream can remove the prosthesis so as not to hurt the Ink. Ink is regularly examined by doctors once a month, so Dream's help always helps out.

There are also a couple of scientists and a mechanic, but they specialize more if the prosthesis needs to be repaired somehow or slightly modified for further more convenient use. Doctors simply examine the body to identify any problems in connection with wearing a prosthesis.

– Do you see Ink sitting hugging his knees in huge shock? Nightmare and Dream are influencing him with their aura again.

MOREOVER, NIGHTMARE UNDERSTANDS PERFECTLY WELL WHAT INK IS DRIVING AT AND CONTINUES TO DO IT!

– He decided not to meet with Error anymore just to talk, because I completely distrust the BHS team.

– kinn song –  Сavetown – Devil Town

Blue. (I do not know what new things can be written about him, so I will duplicate my post)

— Blue only comes to JR Castle when Dream calls him, or if Blue suddenly gets bored. Often he just sits in the OuterTale and admires the stars

— If Blue comes because of boredom, he will start flirting with Dream, although he does this out of habit, in fact, he does not care deeply, he is paid for his work, and this is the main thing.

— From now on, Blue takes the position of searching for information. Dream only gives a task, so Blue goes to the anti-void to look for information from there, although he often calls Error to help him finish the search as quickly as possible and in greater volume.

— Due to all the drastic rearrangements of plans and frequent attacks by BHS after the negative incident, Blue experienced severe stress, after which he began to suffer from insomnia.

— Blue and Error made a deal, as Error also didn't like the whole situation with the negative incident, and they decided to work together to try to minimize the battles and damage as much as possible.

— During work, he always has a liter mug of coffee next to him, by the way, Blue likes how Error makes coffee, Error does it best.

"Sweet cake and sugar–free coffee is the best combination! What? Error, don't you agree? Well, swallow your empty coffee, and I'll have a cake!"

— Funny fact, Blue feeds street cats.

— Blue always carries bandages in his pockets to quickly wrap up wounds and not see blood, because of stress, his hemophobia has only gotten worse.

— During one of the battles, Cross severely injured Blue's cheek, feeling pain and seeing blood, Blue almost experienced a panic attack, fortunately Dream was nearby and was able to seal the wound with a plaster. The whole situation was too stressful, only Nightmare was happy about all this negativity. Since then, Blue has a scar on his right cheek, sometimes Cross can tease Blue that he mows under the Ink, although this scar remains because of Cross!

– kinn song – Guchiry feat. Flower - Abnormality Dancin' Girl

I FINISHED WRITING THIS A WEEK LATER!

I regularly reread the DreamSwap canon to be aware of where I've made mistakes. I could just forget about my own principles and continue with exactly the trash that I created in 2020, but it's a blessing that I was able to stumble upon Poison!DreamSwap, which pushed me to completely change the canon of Fallen!DreamSwap. I could have left Nightmare just a parody of the original Nightmare, but still I rewrote his canon several times.

Fan fact: I wanted to add songs in my native language to Kinn Songs, but I understand that my playlist is too cruel and in which case it would not be convenient for you to get into the translation of songs, given that it is very difficult to find adequate translations from my native language, if I need it, then I'm translating manually!

[mamaiaminlovewiththemoon]

Small tidbit while I'm building character and challenge ideas.

Honestly, I like seeing the interns working on the show and hosting challenges (or whatever interns do on reality TV sets), so I'm changing the B plot and adding more interns.

The first and biggest change to the rewrite is Nina is no longer a puppet(being?) She is now a 9 year old who is a toned down version of Fiore who stays behind the scene while her uncle, Marcus, takes care of her during filming since she has no parents and he didn't want to leave her alone (last time he did, the house was covered in plastic and some weapons) She's a bit of a troublemaker who might have a tyrant problem but everyone is okay with her and like her so we cool.

Second, Emily does not get fired at all! (I hate that ONC did that). She stays as the social media intern.

Now, time for some ocs (yay!) My intern oc is this 17 year old girl named Emara (sometimes goes by Mara) who is a a bit of a fan girl of the show (and mostly this one character)

Photo reference

She works on the cast outfits in special episodes, creates some of the challenges, and even budgets the show money's. The Network wanted Kristal to pander towards Gen Z (their words) by hiring some teens, so when she posted this offer on the Shows insta account, Mara was quick to apply, begging in Kristals dm 35 times asking for the job (Emara will deny later on when asked) before Kristal finally hired her. (More on backstory later)

Now, HEAR ME OUT! I had this idea that since Trevor and Derek got rid of most of the animals that lived in the woods (plus some interns, thanks to Jensen), Kristal wanted to hire someone to handle and take care of the wildlife during the filming w/o hurting them again but she couldn't find anyone right for the job. But Oliver said he knew someone perfect after finding on this old help site. Drum roll please 🥁.....Dawn from ROTI!

When they reached out to her about this opportunity, she quickly said yes and asked to bring her friend to help out as well. That friend being Cameron!! He focuses on the editing, filming, and technological part of the show (I headcanon them as friends♡). He joined the show for a fresh start (dude is getting burnout during college, struggles, man. Plus, money)

Now, Trevek. I did like them a bit thinking they were married, but season 3 also ruined them with this stupid drama, so they are now boyfriends, where Derek was gotta propose after the season finale but they got jailed so no marriage. Since I'll be making this rewrite as comics (and the occasional fanfic if I could muster up the will to do so), not much of the interns can be affected to the main plot least I feel like it.

Next up, the season 3 cast (also with some ocs 'cause free will!)

Bye!

[datclassicrockfan42]

Who are the monkees?

YESSSSSSSSSSSS

DEAR LORD YES

(Sorry I don’t get this question very often)

Anyways, allow me to introduce you to The Monkees

They were a 60s rock band with a TV show(like the Aquabats). Originally created to make money and sell records but after a rebellion from their music producer, they truly(at least in my eyes) became a true band. Unfortunately a lot of factors caused the bands decline in popularity and their dissolvement. They did get back together in the 80’s and 90’s with a little surge in popularity, and thoughout the 2000s and 2010s they continued to tour. Currently the last remaining Monkee(Micky) is doing shows to honor the band these years.(this is definitely a cliff notes version bc(well I kinda lost my Monkee Autism for MCR autism and there’s no way I can fit the entire story into a single post, we can keep talking about this through dm through)

Now for the members. This group consists of four members. Davy, Micky, Peter, and Mike

Here’s a photo

The first member is Davy Jones.(Bottom Right)Short, British, and babyfaced. He’s basically the “Paul McCartney” of the group, the one that all the girls love(at least when the show first aired). In the band lineup, he does vocals, tambourine, and maracas(usually has like fifty maracas) In the show, he’s the group’s hopeless romantic. Always going after a girl and falling in love. However that whole “Davy falls in love and now it’s our problem” is much more of a season one plot line than season two(not to say doesn’t happen there too.)

Next is Micky Dolenz.(Top left). The bands…(for really lack of a better term here) wild card. He’s very energetic and comedic. In the band he’s the drummer but also does vocals most of the time. In the show, he’s wild, chaotic, and the jokester of the group.

Next is Peter Tork( bottom right). Sweet, sensitive Peter. Look at him isn’t he cute? In the band, he’s the bassist, but also plays a multitude of instruments. In the show he was the dummy. The butt of the joke all the time. His shy, awkward(auto fill suggested knees here, and I’m questioning everything), personality and lack of social skills was a constant joke during the series. Actual Peter is pretty intellectual.

Last but certainly not least(especially on this blog) is Mike(top right, in the green wool hat) the second Michael in my life(Mikey was the first). Ah Michael Nesmith. Where to start? Stoic, quiet,aloof, but a total goof sometimes.(starting to sound familiar here)He has what this website calls…autism swag. Usually wearing a little hat(okay now that I type this here I’m starting to realize the similarities between the two Michaels in my life), this Texan is the “serious one.” The dad of group basically. In the band he plays guitar and actually wrote a few songs(oh we’re gonna talk about this). In the show, he was basically the voice of reason. Not really focused on that much,but he had his moments. I should mention that he got rid of the hat around season two, but you can still identify him by his massive sideburns.

Look at these

Look at the size of them

NOW THE SHOW AND MUSIC.

The show: The show aired from 1966-1968 with two seasons. They also had two tv specials and one hella trippy movie. Currently a lot of the episodes have been taken off YT(damn copyright) but we have archive.com and many drive folders containing these episodes. Episode plots can go from “guys Davy’s in love again and now it’s our problem” to “Crap we can’t pay the rent” to “crap we gotta save America from spies”. And season two only gets weirder. Each episode usually contains two “romps” which are basically music videos that showcase songs(like I said made to sell records)

(I do gotta warn you tho. This show was made in the 60s…so some of the content is not actually…politically correct according to today’s standards. So yea just be prepared for that)

Episodes I’d personally recommend for beginners are

Season 1 Ep 8: don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. A simple episode. Displays each of the characters personally traits pretty well. Has good songs.

Season 1 ep 23: Captain Crocodilez a pretty funny episode. Got a lot of that typical Monkee rapid fire random humor(which is kinda Aquabatsish). Some good romps and I find this ep quite enjoyable

Season one ep 12: I’ve got a little song here. This is a Mike focused episode and is a little bit sadder than the majority of eps, but is overall good. It’s got the bands superhero personas, the Monkeemen. Good songs too.

Season two episode 16: fairytale. An iconic episode.(so sometimes the guys would dress up in drag to make their schemes work and there’s lots of that in this episode) it’s a bit more off the walls(which is normal in season two) but still overall a good episode.

Here’s the link for the archive(kinda bad quality but pretty accessible)

Edit: so i checked and something is wrong with the link….so yea

Ummm if yall want I can dm you a link to one of the drives

NOW FOR MUSIC

(Buckle up)

So the group(in the tv show years) released(holy shit) 9 albums.

The Monkees(a classic album of songs from the show) notable tracks include Last train to Clarksville, Saturday’s child, Sweet Young Thing, and Papa Gene’s blues

More of the Monkees(another classic, once again full of songs from the show) notable tracks include Mary,Mary , I’m not your stepping stone, the kind of girl I could love, and(you probably know this one) I’m a believer(yep the song from shrek was a Monkees song)

However, these albums were made with little to no creative control. Opting for studio musicans and writers than the actual guys themselves(who were all pretty good musicans) but after some rebellion, the producer getting fired, and a hole in a hotel wall(before the producer got fired,(guess who did this one lol). The band was able to play their own instruments.

Which brings us to an era which I personally consider the bands finest:

Headquarters: a masterpiece with the group playing almost of all their own instruments. Notable tracks include: Sunny Girlfriend, for Pete’s sake, and Randy Scouse Git

Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones(thats actually all the members zodiac signs, expect Davy’s bc him and Mike are both Capricorns and they actually share a birthday(Dec 30): this is their psychedelic album(hey it’s 1967 everyone’s doing it) Notable tracks here include: Pleasant Valley Sunday, Love is only sleeping, Star Collector and the door into summer.

The Birds, The Bees, and The Monkees: another classic👌. Notable tracks here include: Daydream Believer, Tapioca Tundra, and Dream World.

We then have the HEAD(that trippy movie i was talking about(that’s a little advanced tho, stick to the show for now) soundtrack: notable tracks here include: Porpoise Song, As we go along, circle sky, and daddy’s song.

Now for some mythbustijg bc oh boy

They didn’t play their own instruments: actually a lot of the guys were originally musicians before the show(Mike and Peter were folk singers, and Davy worked in broadway(not an instrument but still cool to know). We kinda already debunked this one though so let’s move on to the next:

They didn’t write their own songs: kinda true. The studio did bring in some studio writers to write songs, but the guys actually wrote some songs themselves(mainly Mike, but the others did too)

Ok well I’ve been typing for quite a while now and my hands tried soo ima leave this here. DM me if you want any more info(I have a master degree in the history of Micheal Nesmith with a minor in the band and show history)