#and i think it aligns with his political colour

[theskyexists]

Maybe both is true. Maybe society primes boys to be susceptible to misogyny rabbit hole, and also the rhetoric is so readily superior and also people long for power and belonging, and also considering all of that these alt-right rabbit hole cases did choose to invest heavily in the man good woman bad system. It is after all, a choice. And on the other hand maybe nobody on the left talks to boys. But maybe they don't have anything to say?

[xerotiny]

2 AM Call // Our Precious #1

2 AM Call (Our Precious series #1)

M.list ┃Next Part

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: dom!yunho, sub!reader, suggestive, sexting, phone sex, a lot of dirty talk (seriously, really filthy), masturbating, etc...

Note: if any of the above-mentioned topics trigger you then you can click off. :) also, do not proceed if you're below 18.

An Extra Note: this is a mini - or - a long series, and I'm too lazy to make a different book for it. Hence, I'll be adding all the planned/written chapters of this series in this book. It'll be in second person pov, but instead of writing [y/n] — cause I'm too lazy, really — I'll be writing Angel. So, the reader's name is Angel for this series. This series revolves around polygamy, which means the reader will be involved with ot8; the chapters will unfold slowly from the beginning and follow a storyline.

Gist: being in your sophomore year of college, you meet a very cute and handsome bookstore clerk. You happen to exchange numbers and on the same night, he's all you can think about. When you decide to ring him up, it's 2 AM and both of you have different things on your minds.

Word Count: 5,471

Lehninger.

Lehninger.

Albert Lehninger.

Principles of Biochemistry.

         You grumble under your breath, shifting your eyes chaotically around the shelves of hardcover books aligned in alphabetical order. The wooden shelves feature biochemistry books, and out of all these, you needed only one, which apparently was too hard for your eyes to search. Scorching sun outside is far less preferable than the air conditioning of the second-hand bookstore you were in, so you decide to stay in and pass a few more minutes looking through the books.

Maybe, you could find something worthwhile in store, perhaps something other than textbooks and thesis unrelated to your university work. Sighing, you bend over slightly to grasp the titles inscribed on the spines of several other books.

"It could be here, maybe." you thought to yourself.

"Hi, how can I help you?" a cheery yet raspy voice cuts through your thoughts, "are you looking for a specific book?"

Your attention turns towards the humbly speaking man, and once your gaze falls onto him, and his smile, you hold your breath. He was...ethereal; clad in a beige coloured cardigan and a white turtleneck under it, the man's demeanour was stoic and poised yet friendly and warm. Towering over and looking down at your petite stature, he smiles widely, politely waiting for you to reply. You take a minute longer to stare and notice all finer details on his face; his porcelain skin, pretty pink lips, a straight nose—almost sculpted, and his innocently shaped doe eyes just boring into yours.

There it goes without saying, you were drooling over him. He was attractive, no doubt, but the way he offered you a benign smile made your heart lurch a bit was far more beguiling than his looks. In all seriousness, it had been more than a minute or two since you had been silently checking him out; you had failed to notice the heap of books he was holding in his arms before, but now that you do, you mentally groan at his bulging arms with prominent veins on the back of his hands.

"Hello—"

"—yeah, no. I mean, I was actually looking for...Lehninger—um, biochemistry?" you stutter and ramble, lastly stringing your words into a question.

"Oh, wait. Give me a minute, I'll check it in our database." Carrying the books in his hands, he nudges you to follow him with a nod.

You do cluelessly follow him but enjoy the view of his rear; you really needed to snap out of it! He guides you to the front desk where the cash register was situated, and a computer was stowed away on the other side of it. Thump the books go, having been put down on the desk by him before he leans over the computer to type. Standing on the other side of the desk, you watch him do the work, with your arms folded over your chest.

In the heat of the moment, you're reeling back to checking him out; silverbluish hair styled in a mullet, the puffy strands kissing the collar of his turtleneck, his eyelashes batting every two seconds at the blaring computer screen—you bite down on your lip when libidinous thoughts swarm your mind. His hands, those sleek fingers pressing down the keys on keyboard...how good would those feel as they're pumping in and out of your cunt.

"Oh, okay. Got it!" he squeals softly, turning to you, "looks like we've got one copy of the sixth edition. Would that be alright?"

You flinch, snapping from your thoughts and realising you really needed to get laid, at least to get your mind straight.

"Ah," you take some time to comprehend his words, "sure. I don't mind, to be honest. Only need it as a reference for my assignment."

"You could've issued this book at the university library, why didn't you?" he asks, stepping out from the counter and guiding you back to the wooden shelves.

You look at your feet, stumbling behind him, unsure of what to say. "I believe it's better to have a personal copy instead of issuing it from the library since I'm going to need till my senior year. Couldn't afford a new one, so I thought why not invest in a second-hand."

He heaves out a gentle chuckle, halting his steps in front of a shelf. "That's fair. So, Horizon University?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Got a scholarship and everything...how did you..."

"It's the only university close by, and I'm in my senior year there, well, at the end of it—only one more month left till I graduate." he starts rummaging through the racks in the shelf to find your book. "Dance major."

"Sophomore year here, zoology major." he hums, looking at you and pulls out a thick book from the shelf. You continue in a hushed voice, "I've still got two years left in that hellhole."

"You don't like the university?" he questions, as a matter of factly.

"No. Not really. Not that I know I can't make friends for fucks sake," you state.

"You haven't met the right kind of people yet, it's fine. You will soon." he flashes you a toothy grin. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good." you whisper, "I'll hopefully vibe with someone soon, can't be alone all the time."

"Like I said, you will. Hang in there," he reassures you with his smile going deep in his cheeks, "I'll ring this up for you, come on."

By the cash register, you pay the respective amount while he puts the book in a paper bag having the store's name printed on top of it.

As he hands you the bag, he chimes, "there you go."

You take the bag in your hands, but don't leave just yet; you didn't want to leave him. Drawn to his charismatic presence, you stay behind for a long second. You're staring into each other's eyes, intently lingering onto the disguised inklings in either of your minds. The space around you seems so suffocating, heavy and laden with thick air. In the pit of your stomach, there's an urge you want to act on, you want to tear your gaze away from him and continue on with the rest of your day.

But you can't.

And your heart doesn't want to, thinking there's a possibility of you engaging with him on a romantic level.

From the corner of your eye, you watch his lips twitch into a tiny smile; he scurries his hand on the desk and pulls out one of the store's business cards. He has a sharpie ready on him, and scribbles something on the back of the card.

"Just in case, here's my number. Give me a call, or a text. Would like to hang out with you some time," he slides the cards across the desk to you, "I'm Yunho, by the way."

You take the card and slip it in the pocket of your dress; yes, you wore a clingy summer dress with pockets because pockets are a lifesaver.

"My name's Angel."

"I look forward to hearing from you, Angel."

And you did find something better in there, other than books.

The day rolls by as smoothly as it should, after leaving the bookstore you make your way back to your dorm room in the university to keep the book in your room and grab your laptop as you decide to spend the rest of your morning in the campus cafe. Musty notes of coffee linger in the air while you save Yunho's contact into your phone and work a little on your assignment. All your lectures, you whiled the time thinking about Yunho—his face, his voice, his fingers, his body—you were starting to realise how reprehensibly had this man taken up every fraction of your mind.

You weren't complaining, though. But it was proving to be very distracting amidst your lectures. Coming back to your dorm room, lethargic from the humdrum day of lectures and practical work, you lay in your bed. Mindlessly, you pick your phone and go through your socials, especially Yunho's. He has to have an Instagram page at least. And to your surprise, he does. You come across a public account with few of his photos. You didn't get to see much of him however, as the photos were mostly of him either looking away from the camera or hiding his face behind his hands. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you lock your phone and go on about the rest of your day.

As night dawns in, you're back in your bed after eating dinner. You've done all of your nightly routine and are freshly showered. You wear a dark brown cardigan over your black lingerie; really not in the mood to change into sleepwear because of the buzzing heat of summer. Again, mindless thoughts pop in your head and you grab your phone to check any texts from your nonexistent friends. It's not like you didn't have any friends, you didn't prefer to make friends—regardless, you did have one friend in the entirety of your university. He was a bunny-eyed man with deep brown hair, and a baby yet stoic face; Choi Jongho. But you spoke to him occasionally and only interacted when needed to.

Opening the messaging app on your phone, you almost make sure to have a double take when you see Yunho's name at the top with very recent messages from him. Yep. It was him. You checked it twice only to be sure and it was his contact number. Stifling a squeal, you open your chats.

Yunho: Hey! Just wanted to make sure you got to your dorm room safely. And how's that book working out for you?

[Sent 22:39 pm Read 1:06 am]

So, he needed an excuse to text you. How adorable.

You: Hi Aren't you quick to text me? ^^ It's alright. And... The book makes me want to hit my head against a wall.

[Sent 1:07 am Read 1:07 am]

Yunho: Ouch :( I have no idea what works in biochemistry. Sadly. But hang in there! And ofc Thought I'd keep you company since you're a loner.

[Sent 1:09 am Read 1:10 am]

You: I have friends, mister!

[Sent 1:10 am Read 1:12 am]

Yunho: Yeah You do Imaginary friends don't count.

[Sent 1:12 am Read 1:13 am]

You: I do have a friend! Don't underestimate me.

[Sent 1:14 am Read 1:15 am]

Yunho: "a" friend I'm not tbh But who's this friend?

[Sent 1:16 am Read 1:17 am]

You: He's in my department We've got couple of classes together

[Sent 1:17 am Read 1:18 am]

Yunho: well then I'll let you talk to him

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:19 am]

You felt a pang of pain bubble in your chest, but your mind couldn't figure out why you were hurting over his response.

You: Why do you sound mad?

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:35 am]

Yunho: I'm not :)

[Sent 1:35 am Read 1:36 am]

You: k.

You roll your eyes and blink away the weirdness. Now, your silly anguish had been replaced with anger and frustration. In fact, you wondered why you felt so silly about this ordeal when he was the one to initiate texting you. They say men have a golden rule of texting, that is, they'd wait three days until texting. But it turns out Yunho was little too eager to talk to you. Shaking your head, you sit up straight in your bed and puff your cheeks. Your eyes glaze over your reflection in the full-length mirror in front of your closet.

An idea sparks your curiosity, and you smirk to yourself. Bringing your phone back in your hand, you angle it at a specific point to get your entire body in the frame. You take a mirror selfie, perched by the edge of the bed, your cardigan loosely hanging over your shoulder to expose your lingerie and a good amount of your cleavage, your hair flowing down on one side of your shoulder, and your eyes remain emotionless. Having no perceivable clue of your behaviour, you slump yourself back in bed and purposely send the picture to Yunho. You wait for a minute to pass when you text him back.

You: *sent attachment*

You: Oh god! Didn't meant to send it to you. Can you delete it, please?

[Sent 1:45 Read 1:45]

Yunho: Oh ... Well I saw it. And it's only fair if you... *sent attachment*

[Sent 1:46 Read 1:47]

You feel the buzz in your head, upon checking out the attachment he sent you. Thinking it'd be a normal photo, you didn't pay too much attention to it, but maybe you should have, and you did exactly at your second take of the photo. It was him, obviously; he was sitting in a gaming chair, legs widespread, wearing his loose sweatpants under a haze of dim lights of his room. One of his hands held his phone as he clicked the picture, while the other palmed his crotch. And then you saw it, his boner, protruding from the sweatpants. You mentally tried to gauge his size by the pronounced outline on his pants. And you were impressed.

The heaviness in your head grows when you notice his sly smirk in the photo, and the bulging veins on both of his hands; he wanted to rile you up, just the way you did. Though, if there could be a difference, you did it out of spite and he was doing it to get back to you. Squeezing your thighs together, you tried to control your urges, the same stupefying urges you got when you saw him in the bookstore this morning. The suppression of your desire leads to you heaving out a deep breath, wanting to get back at him for ruining your peace with that photo.

You: someone's all worked up. what were you thinking about?

[Sent 1:50 am Read 1:51 am]

Yunho: Just something Or someone

[Sent 1:51 am Read 1:52 am]

You: I wouldn't mind taking a peek in your head ;)

[Sent 1:53 Read 1:53]

Yunho: Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about?

[Sent 1:54 Read 1:55]

You: Yes Unless you don't want to.

[Sent 1:56 Read 1:57]

Yunho: I'd be the one to ask you that Are you sure you want to know?

[Sent 1:57 Read 1:58]

For some reason you could picture him with a conceited smile on his face, still sitting on the chair and his legs wide apart while he rubs his cock through his sweats.

You: You like teasing don't you?

Yunho: Oh I love it

You: I'll tell you what. I've been thinking about you since the morning

Yunho: Hmm Likewise I've been thinking about all the things I'd do to you if you were here with me

You: and what would you do?

You draw in a sharp breath, chest heaving up and down when your mind fogs with the thoughts of him doing filthy things to you.

Yunho: For the starters... I'd gently kiss your lips While ripping the buttons off your sweater Taking it off Letting my hands roam your body

Reading his texts, you pull at the buttons on your sweater, one by one and eventually shrugging it off from your body. You tremble slightly as you proceed to text him with one hand.

You: Go on...

Yunho: I'd pin you to the bed Make sure your hands are above your head Kiss you so hungrily. use my hands to feel all of you. And take off whatever that's remaining on your body Id tease you a hell a lot Fukc Ferl your bdy shuddre under mine when I drg my fingerss down to yor wet pussy Pusj my fingers deep in you knuckles feep Make you mewl as my fingers pumped in and out ... Fuck I want you so bad

That was the point of no return for you, you were deeply invested in this game, in this stupid act of desperation where all you could think about was his texts. It brings your colourful imagination to mind, visualising his texts as you rub your fingers on your now-aroused cunt through your dripping wet panties. you noticed the typos in his texts, probably from him typing with his one hand while his other remained busy. 

Taking a deep breath, you rest against the headboard of your bed, your legs spread a little to make it easier for your hands to rub you. You bite your lip, thinking more of him, thinking of his sleek fingers sawing you out while he's knuckles deep in your cunt.

You: I want you too So so bad I want your fingers in me I want you to loosen me up nice for your cock to pound into me

You finally decide to push your panties to the side, while ghosting your fingers over your clit before you let them submerge in your heat. Your arousal coats your fingers as they slick back and forth, at a steady pace, in your cunt. Your mind is already long gone to the end where you were only yearning for him to make you feel good. Noticing how your phone hadn't buzzed for a long time, you shift your attention to it and instead of his texts, you see him calling you. Hesitation knocks at your door, but you're too far gone from rationality to think about it. As you answer his call and press your phone to your ear, you hear his ragged breathing. It brushes your ear and tickles you, springing up goosebumps on your skin, as though he was right next to you in your bed.

"You really know how to make a man all worked up, don't you?" he hisses, "don't worry, princess. I'll make you feel good."

You take in another deep breath through your mouth, bringing your fingers out of your cunt. Hovering them over your chest, you push the cups of your bra down and grope your breasts; you pinch your nipples, fondle and knead your tits to get yourself in the mood. He doesn't know about it, but your fantasies run wild—with him as he fills his hands with your tits, groping and fondling them, maybe even more.

"What is my Angel doing right now? Are you touching yourself at the thought of me pinning you down to the bed and fucking you relentlessly?" he asks, and your mind pictures it word to word.

"Yes. I want you to—I want you to fuck me foolish—make me—make me see stars—while—while your cock rams into me..." you stutter, struggling to strip yourself out of your lingerie.

"Pretty filthy thoughts for a beautiful face like yours, Angel." His tone is teasing as he continues, "wanting a stranger you just met to do all these vile things to you...you're a cum-slut aren't you?"

Dirty talk was never your cup of tea, it made you cringe internally but there was something about Yunho's deep and sultry voice that made you wet, insanely wet. You bite your lip, conscience half gone to the sound of his trembling breathing, and rub your clit—the sensation only brings butterflies in your stomach, because in your mind those were his fingers and not yours. In your mind everything you did to yourself was replaced with him, and it was enough to get you started.

Biting back on a moan, you reply, "yeah...I want you to—I want you to do all the vile stuff to me."

You hear certain shuffling in the background alongside a long pause and then, your ears catch up on his soft little grunts. Nothing prepared your imagination for what you were thinking; him in his bed or just in his gaming chair, with his cock out, stroking himself at the thought of you.

"Your—your wish is my command," he growls, his deep voice resonating in your ear, "would love to finger your tight little cunt, drawing out these pretty moans from your mouth..."

You slide one finger down your slit, and eventually ease it in your hole; it brought discomfort at first, a little, but when you started moving it deep within you, you felt your walls clench slightly around it.

"Fuck...yes, I want you to spread—spread me open with your fingers."

He did not need to know that you were fingering yourself, your voiceless grunts and whispers were enough for him to imagine it. Picturing you plunge your fingers into your cunt, he increases the pace of his hand stroking his cock; though, he keeps himself steady. He couldn't really help himself and gradually increases the rhythm of his movements.

"Add another finger, baby." he mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back against his chair.

You oblige, adding another finger in your hole.

"How does it feel?"

"Good—feels good, Yunho." You mewl his name, scissoring your fingers inside of you.

"You're doing great, princess. Now, curl your fingers..." he manages to squeak out in a whisper, pumping his cock with busy motions.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically to your moans, and you do as he says; curling your fingers inside you, you feel a certain warmth lingering in your stomach. You were getting close to your climax, without even having to anything more—the knot strikes a jolt of tightness in the pit of your stomach, and you moan out loud. Really loud.

"I want you to feel me, Yunho." you breathe out, aroused. "I want to feel you too—feel your cock sliding in and out of me—fucking me good with it."

"Oh baby," he goes silent for a second, focused on stroking himself, "I'll fuck you good—I'll fuck you till you're begging for me to stop..."

"Ah fuck," you arch your back off the mattress, trying to chase your high.

Your fingers plunge in and out, increasing tension in your stomach and gut; your tightness was gradually easing up, and so you decide to insert another finger in. The stretch stung, however, pleasurable, making you whimper his name out loud.

"Yunho...!"

"Yes, baby, I know." he winces in diversion. "Hold on a little longer, I'm close—I'm close too."

He breathes out, increasing the pace of his hand; his cock slick with his precum and it spreads along the shaft as he continues to pump himself. You could hear the strain in his voice, indicating you, he indeed was close to his own climax; you were too, knowing your fingers were hitting your sweet spot every time they thrusted in you. Keeping your phone on loudspeaker, you set it on the nightstand and use your other hand to rub your clit. You increase the pace of your fingers, flesh squelching, your juices lightly lapping against your fingers—the knot tightens delicately in your stomach as your tempo remains constant.

Yunho bucks his hips into hands, composing himself as he thrusts his cock into his hand, thinking about your tight cunt. He has a colourful mind too, picturing himself rocking his hips so that his cock hits all of your deepest parts. His lungs convulse, fighting the urge to moan but it breaks out of his lips anyway. He moans your name, shaking and struggling to hold his phone next to his ear—he does the same as you, sets his phone aside while keeping it on speaker.

"Such a dirty little slut, fingering herself to the thought of my cock thrusting into her," his voice gives you a push, fuels your soul with the fire it lacked. In retrospect, he needed something too, to tip him off his edge as he fucked his hand. "Fuck...needs my cock to make her happy..."

"Yes, please," you cry, tears rolling down the side of your face as your fingers do their work.

Your high was approaching you, so close, almost there. The limit to hold it in was past the point, he could say something and you would be riding down your orgasm—you needed him, his voice, his words. On the other hand, Yunho's patience was running thin, he wanted to finish it off—feeling the warmth of his hand pushing him to his edge, he smirks to himself and throws his head back.

"Are you close, princess? Cause I am..." he grunts.

You nod your head, pursing your lips together to make a gentle sound of humming. You didn't realise it yet, but you were bucking your hips to your fingers, letting them curl and slip in deep inside you; grinding your hips against your fingers, you let out a satisfied groan—the tightness in the pit of your stomach comes undone. Rummaging your hand to hold the headboard behind you, you brace yourself as your high washes over you with a vehement intensity. You let our shaky breaths, well beyond being breathless, as your fingers slowly make their way out of your heat. Your chest rises and falls, tremors spread under your skin with your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

"Fuck, princess..."

His groan is a little static, coming from your phone as it leaves your imagination to run wild. You picture him slumped in his chair with his load spurting out to stain his lower abdomen and clothes. In reality, Yunho breathes through his mouth, letting it fall agape when his high comes crashing down onto him. He had never felt such rush of satisfaction by only indulging himself with you on call; he had never felt himself cumming so hard for anyone with any real action, but here he was, panting and shaking, stroking off his climax as he grimaced at his hand full of his cum.

There's a long moment of silence between you two, and in that silence, the post-orgasm clarity sinks deep within you. The thought of you being so indecent with a man you met in the morning, not even knowing him for more than a day, brought some coherence to your mind. Though, the best is to let it go and keep it in your bounds of inadvertent thrills of late night.

Your body feels languid, and tired; wondering the same for him.

"That was..."

"It happened in the moment," Yunho breathlessly pronounces, "we're just two strangers who have nothing to do with each other, right?"

"Well..."

You sit straighter in your bed, staring at your phone as you bite your lip; you were waiting for him to speak.

"Well what?" he mumbles, a sly smile stretching his lips.

"I thought...never mind. I'm way over in my head." You shrug it off, pulling the sheets over your body as the embarrassment drowned you out. "It's fine, we'll pretend this never happened."

"What? Are you crazy?" his voice is much clear now, with the obvious tone of bewilderment. "Gosh, Angel. You don't know how hard I came for you. I can't pretend this never happened; instead, I wouldn't mind giving us..."

He trails, dragging his words in a whisper with hopes of you completing him. "...giving us a try, like just keeping our relationship exclusive to sex?"

"If you're down for it." he mumbles, "I don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with."

"I'll think about it."

You smiled to yourself, thinking about that possibility. When the sun rose to a new day, you found yourself pondering. Not exactly in the 'deep venture' of it, but you just kept your mind busy with Yunho's proposal and thought of the consequences if you were to ever agree to it. Friends with benefits with a soon-to-graduate hot senior? That sounds tempting, a lot, it also fuels your infatuation with him. But on the other hand, you didn't want to go down that road with him. There were second thoughts in your mind, of course there'd be—you maybe, sort of, liked this man, after all, he does give off the vibes that he'd be a great boyfriend. You didn't want to ruin that possibility with him.

The rest of your day goes as scheduled, you attend a few of your lectures in the morning. Currently, it's afternoon and you have last of your classes to attend. Amidst all the excitement and stress, your friend, Jongho texts you, asking you to get him your lab-coat for his practical class. You find him standing in front the chemistry department, smiling and engaged in a chatter with someone else. And upon noticing it from afar, the person who he was talking to was Yunho. It was such a contrast, both were happy-go-lucky kind of guys, but Jongho seemed more innocent than Yunho (after the night you had spent with him, it was hard to picture him being anything but innocent). You could make it out from his tall built, and silver-bluish hair styled in a mullet, regardless with his back facing you. Hesitation stricken, you somehow manage to make your way to him; because Jongho had already noticed you even before you turn around and run away.

"There she is!" Jongho glees, and Yunho turns around, meeting your eyes. "Thank you so much for bringing it, I really despise prof. Yuen when he gets all judgmental about 'forgetting' to bring a lab-coat to his practical class."

"Hey, no worries," you smile at him, handing him your lab-coat. "I have his practical class day after tomorrow, till then the coat is yours." You laugh it off, awkwardly glancing at Yunho.

Jongho notices the out-of-ordinary ogles you made at Yunho, chiming in, "oh right, Angel, this is Yunho. I live with him and six other guys. But that's not important and ummm.." he looks at Yunho, scratching the back of his neck, "she's Angel, my only friend in this university."

Yunho smiles warmly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he does. "Oh so, it's her you can't stop chattering about?" he chuckles lightly, "and what do you mean��'your only friend' aren't we your friends too?"

Jongho rolls his eyes, "you guys are nothing but a pain in the ass. Just today, in the morning Wooyoung and San drank all the milk and kept empty containers back in the refrigerator. I had to crunch on cereals before heading out for my morning classes."

"So, are you tainting all others because of those two individuals?" Yunho retorts.

You purse your lips together, ineptly crossing your eyes between them; you were aware of Jongho's living condition, but you could have never expected Yunho to be one of his flatmates. It was true, Jongho lived with seven other guys from the university, some of them having a full time job, and at times he would complain about them to you. Though you never really focused too much on what he had to say, or even catch their names.

"Uhhh..." you trail, offering them a tight lipped smile.

"Angel, come on, back me up." Jongho grumbles.

"I can't say anything about your flatmates, Jongho." The chestnut-haired man rolls his eyes, and you continue, "but I've always listened to your rants."

"I bet you're a good listener, Angel." Yunho taunts you, "and an even better friend to him."

"She is," Jongho breaks out in a smile. "Hey, you should totally come over on Thursday. We've got a game night planned."

"Uh, Jongho, I don't think I'd want to play board games with eight guys." You mutter under your breath.

"Who said we play board games?" Yunho says, drawing his brows together. "Though, it'll be fun for a while, having a girl over."

"Yes, Angel. You should consider it. Just—just think about it okay?" the enthusiasm in Jongho's voice isn't hard to ignore. "Now, I've got a class, so I'll see you in a bit."

With that he disappears, leaving you and Yunho stranded alone with nothing to talk about or a lot to talk about.

"What a lovely coincidence," Yunho begins, smiling at you, "the girl he talked about was you all along; well, he painted a pretty picture of you in our heads."

"I see Jongho as anything but more than a friend." you pout, "and this game night, should I even consider coming?"

"Well, it depends on you, princess," he smirks, "it depends on whether or not you could keep your hands to yourself. Because I'll be there."

"Oh, don't put yourself on a high pedestal, mister." You roll your eyes, "I'll think about it."

"Don't you have a lot to think about already?" he steps closer to you, towering over you as he leans close to your ear, "I don't think I can go on without touching you for the entire time you'd be there, so really do think about it."

He straightens up and mumbles one last time before leaving you completely high and dry.

"And if you do come, I will really fuck you senseless."

Next Part ┃ M.list

[abstractpenny]

Okay, so I've been thinking about it and I don't think we're actually all that cooked with Joe Biden dropping out.

If you don't know, Joe Biden dropped out of the 2024 presidential election. He is no longer running. BUT Kamala Harris, the current VP, is taking his place as the Democratic candidate for this election.

Looking at this, you may say something like "Oh no, we're done for. We're doomed." But if you think about it, this is actually an unbelievably intelligent and strategic move. In fact, this gives me a lot of hope that I didn't have before.

Obviously, this move is a last resort. They knew if they kept running with Biden they would lose. It means the Democratic party is pulling out a final weapon. But it's honestly a damn good one.

Before this happened, it seemed hopeless. Our two options were two old rich white men, one of which is an awful public speaker and the other is a literal criminal. And, because of that, you got people choosing not to vote or choosing to vote for Trump. Because which of the two evils is more appealing?

Donald Trump is a wonderful public speaker. He is charismatic and charming. He knows how to get people on his side. He's spent his whole life learning how to be a strong public speaker. That's what makes him scary. That's what made it so he won the 2016 election, so he almost won the 2020 election, and why he's still in the conversation today. He knows how to speak in an appealing way.

Joe Biden is honestly an awful public speaker. He struggles with gathering people to be on his side. Whether it's because he has a stutter/speech impediment or because he's dealing with dementia, he's still not good at public speaking. That makes him weak in things like debates and in politics. We saw that with our own eyes during the last debate.

Kamala Harris, while maybe not as strong of a speaker as Donald Trump, is very knowledgeable and self assured. She knows how to debate, she knows how to be a politician. She knows what she's doing. She's strong and confident. She may be our final hope.

A lot of why people aren't going in to vote is because it felt useless to do so, especially to people on the left. Donald Trump is out of the question for a lot of people, but Joe Biden isn't much better to many. They're both old as fuck, about 80 years old. They're both straight white cis men who have higher incomes. They're not aligned at all with what a lot of people on the left view.

Harris is significantly more relatable to a lot of people. She's a woman of colour. A good percentage of the United States population is one of those, either a person of colour or a woman. She's also younger than both Biden and Trump by almost 20 years. Yes, she's still 60 years old, but that's absolutely nothing compared to our other candidates.

Another thing that brings Biden out of favour with the left is how he handled and backed specific foreign wars (Ukraine and Palestine specifically). The Palestine Israel war is a very strong thing on the left, it's very talked about, and a lot of people view Biden as 'om the wrong side' of it. And, although Harris was the VP of the Biden administration, she's not very tied in to the wars from public view.

Harris is a great candidate other than a few minor minor minor things. She's leagues better than our dropped out ex candidate and our currently running candidate. One of the biggest hurdles for her, though, is going to be racism and sexism. It's always there. Oh, and the fact that her opponent had an assassination attempt on him, but that's a whole other can of worms.

Kamala Harris coming into this race may change things completely. We're not as screwed anymore. There's hope.

You. Whoever may read this. Go vote. It's crucial. Vote if you can. If you can't, get people to vote who can. This is the most important election in a long time.

We can win.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part five

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this one got me y'all i won't lie-

series masterlist // playlist

"Is everything okay? You look upset." You ask Coryo, mere moments after he joined your side of waiting tributes and mentors to tour the arena. How had you seen it so quickly? He curses himself mentally for making his distress so obvious.

For you, it was how pale he looked. All the colour had been drained from his face, and you doubted that was from him running up to you to catch up. He looked too fit to be sick just from running. The crease in his brow and bloodshot eyes certainly didn't help, either.

"Nothing." He replies quickly as the line starts to move. "How are you doing today?"

"Well." You nod, allowing the shift in topic. You wouldn't want to press him, you just didn't want whatever he is upset about to be because of you. "I have been reading. It helps."

"Oh, good. I'm glad." He hums, looking down at you for the first time.

"Thank you, again. I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle to get."

"Not at all." He shakes his head, returning your ever-present smile as best as he can within an hour of witnessing the possible death of another one of his classmates. Truth is, it was hard to get Romeo and Juliet for you. It wasn't commonplace in the Capitol, clearly, and he only knew one person, more broadly, one family who had ever so much as set foot in the Districts.

"Coriolanus! What a pleasure! Please, come in." Sejanus's mother greets him at the door, stepping out of the way and gesturing for him to enter.

"Mrs. Plinth, how are you?" He asks politely, stepping in and wiping his shoes on the doormat.

"I'm good! Yourself?"

"Good." He nods.

"Come eat, I just finished up some baking." She walks back into the home, and he follows suit. He's shocked when he's led into the kitchen, and she pats a stool at the kitchen island for him to sit. "Would you like some tea?" She offers, already cutting a slice of pie for him. It was still steaming. Still warm. His stomach growled just at the sight as he sat down. Typically one wouldn't host guests in your kitchen, but she was District. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

"Please." Coryo smiles at her gratefully.

"How is your mentorship going?" She asks, and he can tell by her refusal to make eye contact that it's purely to make conversation. She likely shared some perspectives with her son, but she was too mature to state such unpopular opinions in a way her son was not. "Sejanus told me you got paired with the girl from District Twelve. He really likes her. Said she's very smart. Very kind."

"She is. She's lovely." Coryo nods as she slides a plate in front of him, handing him a fork moments later. "I think it's going well."

"It's such a shame..." She mutters, clicking her tongue and shaking her head as she puts the tea on the kettle on the burner in between them. "Anyway," She catches herself, moving on quickly. "What can we do for you? Shall I call for my son?"

"Y/N is the reason I'm here, actually." He replies, ignoring her comment. Admittedly, when it came to you, he agreed with Mrs. Plinth and her son. It is such a shame.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I would like to get her a copy of her favourite book. I was hoping you might have it, I've never heard of it before."

"We have a library." She nods. "I can certainly take a look, what is it called?"

"It's very, very old, so no worries if you don't have it, but it's called 'Romeo and Juliet'." He tells her, eyes gleaming with hope. If they didn't have it, he wasn't sure what he would do.

"Oh! That is familiar to me." She smiles. "I haven't read it since I was your age, but I'm sure we still have it kicking around here somewhere. Do you mind keeping an eye on the tea while I take a look?"

"Of course." Coryo nods, wanting nothing less than to make his own tea as a guest in someone's home, but he has to do what he must to get you that book.

As soon as she wipes her hands on her apron and walks out of the kitchen, he hears her voice again. "Sejanus! Your friend is here!"

Internally, he rolls his eyes. He didn't want to see his classmate, but he was in his home. Maybe Sejanus would handle his tea, at least. He took this opportunity to start eating the warm pie in front of him, he hated people seeing him eat, but he was making all kinds of sacrifices today. Maybe he should ask if he could take a piece for you.

"Oh. Coryo." Sejanus says, walking into the kitchen. "What brings you?"

"Y/N." He replies. "I'd like to get a book for her. Your mother says she has it."

"Ah." Sejanus hums, slotting himself into the seat next to Coryo. So much for the tea. "What book?"

"Romeo and Juliet. It's her favourite." Coryo explains. "She's going to do a monologue from it in her interview."

"At least she'll talk to you." Sejanus sighs. "Marcus won't even look at me."

"Well, Y/N is nicer than most." Coryo says, much more eager to talk about you than Sejanus and his problems.

"She's something, huh?" Sejanus smiles, taking the bait.

"Yes. Very intelligent."

"I think it will be easy for her to get donations. Even if people don't know what she's talking about." Sejanus elaborates. "She's pleasant to look at, and the people here are so shallow that that might be the only thing that matters."

Pleasant, to Coriolanus, was an understatement. Surely, you were the most beautiful thing the Districts had to offer. That didn't mean that Sejanus or anyone should be valuing you based on that, though. Your mind was just a bonus. It would work wonders in humanizing you to the people of the Capitol. It had certainly worked on him.

"I hope it's more than that." He replies, and truth be told, it's a lie. He doesn't want anyone to look at you the way he does, but if it meant people sending money so he could save your life, so be it.

"I do too, but it's doubtful. Regardless, she'll do well. You'll have lots of donations to work with." Sejanus says, attempting to comfort his friend's worries. "My ma will convince my father to send some for her. I heard them talking about it, she wants to help you."

"Is that not a conflict of interest?"

"Maybe." Sejanus shrugs. "They can't donate to Marcus, obviously, but Ma really likes her. Asks about her every day. She's rooting for both of them. The problem is they can't both win."

Coryo would take it. One hundred percent he would take it, but it makes his heart crack even more.

"Here! Here it is!" His mother calls out as she returns to the kitchen, excitedly placing the book on the counter next to Coryo, patting the top of it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Plinth." He sighs in relief, picking up the old book in his hands.

"Please, call me Ma. We're so far past formalities." She grins, leaning against the counter across from them as the tea starts to whistle. Coryo would sooner die than call her 'Ma', but once again, he would do just about anything for you at this point. "I hope she enjoys it."

"I'll get it back to you before the games." Coryo promises.

Her smile fades to a sad one as she pours out the tea into a mug for him. "Yes, well, feel free to hold onto it as long as you need to, dear. I have more books than I could read in a lifetime."

"I did promise her I would read it." He matches her sentiment. "So I'll get into it after the games. I doubt I'll have any free time until then."

"Keep it. It's yours." She smiles.

"Thank you." He says again, flipping briefly through some of the pages. It was old, practically falling apart in his hands, but he knew you would take good care of it. And after you, he would do the same.

"I hid it with the blanket." You tell him. "I sure hope it doesn't rain..." You mumble, looking behind you to check how clear the sky currently is. So far, the book would be safe.

You're careful, hesitant even as you approach the turnstiles ahead of you. You wish that it wouldn't speak when you walk through it, but you know it will as you watch every other tribute ahead of you push through the metal gate.

"Enjoy the show!" You wince at the words, then you're on the other side. That wasn't so bad, but the statement echoes endlessly in your mind, bouncing off every other thought you've had today as you carry on into the open arena, allowing the other tributes and mentors to enter behind the two of you as a camera is shoved in your face and you smile, giving it a small wave.

"Well, hello there." You grin, looking past the camera to the man holding it. "How are you today?"

You don't get an answer as one of the mentors is yanking him away to point the camera at someone else. As you look around, instinctively, you step closer to Coryo's side as you gaze around the arena. "Gosh, It sure is... small." You mutter, swallowing the lump in your throat as reality comes crashing down on you in the dark space.

He grabs your hand.

Coriolanus has always thought the arena was huge. From his memories at the top of the stands, it did look big, but down here, on the floor, it did feel a lot smaller. Especially when he forced himself to imagine that it would be him who would be killed in this very room, not even a week from today.

There was nowhere to hide, he knew that, but now, the idea scared him. What would you do? He doesn't even have any good advice to give you.

You jump as the door slams shut behind you, turning quickly to look. Even Coryo looks scared, and you pull yourself closer to him. Had they lied to you? Were the games starting today? You didn't want to say goodbye yet. To the world, your family, to Coriolanus. You weren't ready- but would you ever be?

That's when the windows start to slide open above you, letting the light back in.

"Welcome to the arena for the Tenth Annual Hunger Games. Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy." The voice over the loudspeakers is reassuring to you, but you know that's only temporary.

Coryo stays silent as he looks around. Clearly, you were ahead of him, though, already pulling on his hand in the direction of some of the other tributes. He only slightly resisted, confused as to what was happening, but he would let you have this ounce of freedom to do what you pleased.

"Hi!" You smile hopefully at Marcus as he's standing with Sejanus. "I think we're supposed to be forming alliances. I trust you, Marcus."

Your candidness almost shocks Coryo, but he quickly realizes what you're doing. You have almost no shot without somewhere to hide, so your best bet is to find allies. He didn't want you to do this, but now he sees few other options. He makes brief eye contact with Sejanus as Marcus ignores you, just walking away. Coryo starts scanning the rest of the tributes, suddenly focussed on who would be your best strategic option.

"Hey." Coryo whispers, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "If you want allies, talk to them." He points over to Reaper and Dill. He could see that Reaper was strong, and Dill was clearly a liability. You could slot right into the middle as far as skillsets go; he could defend you and she was no threat.

"Okay. Come on." You nod, dropping his hand to head toward them. Coryo looked around on the way, trying to see what other mentors were doing. What he was supposed to be doing, but most of them were just talking to each other, others only to their tribute. There was no right action, but what the two of you were doing was different. That was good.

"Dill, Reaper!" You smile as you get closer, giving a slight wave. Immediately, Reaper is looking past you and glaring at your mentor, tucking Dill behind his back and shaking his head. "Oh." You stop, looking between the two of them and the glare that Coryo is matching. "Never mind, then. I'll leave you to it."

Coryo is already trying to find another option for you, it wasn't looking good. You turn back to him, sighing before plastering a smile on your face, trying not to look too discouraged. "Okay, well..." You look around. "Oh! Lamina. She's lovely." You grab his hand again, but he stays in place as he watches the interaction she's having with Coral and the team she's already forming as they're actively casting Lamina out in favour of the boy from her District.

"Coryo?"

"Not her. Them." He explains, pointing them out to you.

"Oh, I don't know..." You're hesitant, and he understands why, but that's not an option. Without Reaper, numbers would be your biggest safety.

"Safety in numbers." He mumbles, overriding your reluctance and starting to walk their way, pulling you with him.

"Oh, okay. Yeah." You agree, subconsciously cowering behind him. "Actually, Coryo, I'm really not comf-" You speak up, trying to stop his crusade before you're jumping from the sound of an explosion above you.

You both freeze, looking up as the ceiling begins to collapse down on you, more blasts making your ears ring.

Quickly, Coryo is changing directions, running in the opposite direction and pushing you ahead of him as you follow your feet, sprinting toward the light at the door over the shaking ground. You don't last long, stumbling over some already fallen debris and falling. "We gotta go, we gotta go- Y/N, get up!" Coryo is ahead of you now, and you can hardly hear his yelling even though he's right in your face, pulling you back to your feet.

Just as you regain your footing side-by-side, Coryo is the next to fall. As he takes you down with him with the grip on your wrist, you quickly realize it's because a beam fell on his back as the two of you stumbled forward. The flames spreading to the back of his red uniform were the first thing to clue you in.

In your panic and heavy breathing, you can still see his lips moving. You're already trying to pull the bars off of him when he first even gets the chance to scream for help. You groan, inaudible even to you over the commotion as you put all your weight into pulling it back, hoping he's not already severely burned, but you're sure he is as the flames burn the metal rod in your hand.

Your grip slips and you fall back into another piece of the fallen ceiling that surrounded you, apparently sharp as a protruding piece of metal pierces your upper arm. You yelp, looking down as the blood begins to pour from the wound, but you ignore it to keep trying to free your mentor. Then, you're being pulled back by your dress. "The gate is open! The gate is open, come on!" It's Marcus, and by the time you even turn to look at him he's running toward the open door, motioning for you to follow. He gives up quickly as two of the other tributes follow. You don't even hear the gunshots that knock them down. He's trying to escape. You could escape.

You hesitate, looking back down at the boy in front of you who you can see is choking to try and breathe. Someone else slides in at your side as you continue to pull, but they're pushing you back. "Y/N! Run!" Sejanus shouts in your face, quickly removing his hands from you to grab the beam where you were just holding it. "I've got him- Go!"

"My honest, best advice?" Your conversation from the other day immediately comes to mind. "Figure out a way to escape."

You frantically look between the door and the boys in front of you, trying to decide. You have to decide right now. Right now, right now, right-

It's an easy decision. You grab the hot bars again and start pulling with every bit of strength you can muster.

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[kerubimcrepin]

Live-read: "Julith et Jahash" - Part 3

"A huge peasant from Bonta?" Their first meeting is so romantic and her first impression of him is so beautiful.

2 seconds have passed and she is trying to kill him by throwing him off a flying platform.

This is off-topic, but I like to think that Jahash and Julith were "opposites attract" in regard to everything: like, personally, I like to think she comes from a wealthy family that didn't care about her, just her success, — and that she was a gifted huppermage kid. The opposite in every way to Jahash (save for the canonical bisexuality they share).

I make myself emotional a lot, thinking of the ways these two are similar to their son, thinking of the ways Bakara is similar to their son, etc, etc... What if Julith was a perfectionist too...

There are also huppermages from these places specifically, — and interestingly enough, there are only three Brakmarians. Considering the seemingly random way contestants are chosen, this might not mean much.

I wish we had more info on huppermages who aren't alligned with Bonta. There has to be some innter conflict, over the fact that most of them are.

What Julith says here, suggest this is either not her first time in this whole situation, — or that she's just been in huppermage battles before.

This leg spin is so unique. None of the trio of the immortal Jurgen-Crepins do it. She's insane for this.

He's so funny for trying to stop the huppermage hunger games by restraining its most active and enthusiastic participant. Surely, she won't kick him in the balls.

Joris was that close to not being ever born.

I feel that it is prudent to point out that being beaten to death and pushed off to become a pancake 38492834ft below the floating platform, is a problem that even Wakfu era huppermages face.

Joris definitely went through this. He definitely thought it was stupid.

"It's cute that you all came here wearing your city's colours. Get naked."

Yeah, very normal and sane of the huppermages to do. Also, very interesting that Julith is unfazed by this. Like she expected it.

Aw! The "she knitted him underwear" thing is referenced. Maybe she decided it'd be funny, if she fulfilled her offer from when they first met.

I think if Joris was in this situation, (and I am thinking about this, because he too, is a huppermage, and uh. what if he DID go through this. The chance is non-zero) he would become violently suicidal immediately. He doesn't like his body, how short he is, his proportions, and looks. He's always felt more comfortable in a hood and some layers of clothing, — and, while he downplays it in the movie, being different from other people does bother him. Even though he's trying to be fine with it, for Kerubim's sake...

He already has it bad enough with all the cruel things people say to him, no matter how mature and professional he tries to act, no matter how he dresses, no matter what he ever fucking does.

And having all his otherness, the way his body differs from people, showcased like that, would be a humiliating, inhumane experience.

One can only hope that it would, very fast, turn into an SCP-096 type situation. He deserves to start killing people. Especially whoever would do that to him.

This is based, and all, but again and again it is shown that a big majority of huppermages, — including at points, the leaders, — are aligned with Bonta. You can't just will the politics away.

Yeah, I don't like huppermages anymore, as an organization. There are far too many things about them that feel... icky. From the institutionalized abuse, to the political stuff that is swept under the rug.

One might say I am taking it way too seriously, — but Ankama can take things seriously. Tot is not blind to what he's writing, and the things the works imply. At least I hope so.

"What an interesting specimen... No fear and no shame to be seen in these features. No doubt, you are from the Abigor family! From now on, your name is the Butcher."

THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THIS IMPLIES. From Abigors being an important family, like I predicted, — to them all having resting bitch faces. jdsfkgshdfgdfg.

The thing this woman dubs Jahash, based on his expressions and vibes, is "The Pure". They all get these nicknames. And by god, I am so sad about Julith's being this thing she hates.

My personal headcanon, is that if Joris went through this particular kind of hazing and abuse, his govenrment assigned huppermage name was... "the Powerless," of you get the reference.

Because I'm funny like that.

i hate this lady so much its unreal.

[alavestineneas]

Nothing we can do

pairing: Finnick Odair x fem!reader

summary: Finnick Odair hates everything about the Capitol and has every right to do so. But what if there was someone who made it a little more complicated?

warnings: mentions of rape, typical hunger games violence

chapter 1 -> chapter 2 -> chapter 3

''Mister Odair, what a pleasure seeing you in such a cheerful spirit! I hope I don't ruin it with my presence, will I?''

Finnick wanted nothing more than to agree with a man, but instead, he politely smiled. ''Never, President Snow.''

''That's good news. I've noticed you made friends with Miss Y/N.'' A white-haired man lifted a glass from a tray, studying a weirdly coloured liquid inside. ''Such a remarkable young lady. Very bright, and might I as well add, very favoured amongst the suitors.''

Finnick did not understand where Snow was going with this, but it promised nothing good for him or Y/N. He wasn't that naive to even hope they could keep this a secret, but it wasn't that evident. Besides, Snow still got his money. Then what was it?

''You see, Mister Odair, Miss Y/N managed to catch the eye of our new military commander - such a sweet couple they are. Now, Mister Odair, we don't want anybody getting in the lovers' way, do we?''

''No, President Snow.'' Finnick felt the air leaving his chest. This punishment was clever, he must admit. Still keeping both of them around but reminded of their place. It was cruel. In the best traditions of the Capitol.

''Good. You are a smart man, Finnick. I trust you to make the right decision.'' The President implied their short exchange was over.

The solution was quite simple - Y/N is marrying the man, and Finnick keeps himself as far as possible. It should be easy. They are not even lovers, just acquaintances. If that is true, however, Finnick's hands wouldn't tremble as much as they do now. He was in love with a dumb lonely girl from the Capitol, and now he had to let her go.

He was invited to the wedding, of course. It might have been Y/N's idea or the President's order - either way he was stuck drinking cocktails and chatting with a bunch of assholes while they all waited for the lover birds to appear.

A tremendous garden was filled with live music and laughter. The wedding was lavish: fountains of chocolate, crates of fresh fruits, names of which Finnick could not pronounce, expensive meat and fish, literal pools of champagne and wine. It isn't something she would have chosen, he thinks. But then, does he really know?

The first notes of a famous melody hit the guests' ears - they hurriedly took their seats, aligned in neat rows. The first to walk down the decorated aisle was the groom. A man in his thirties in a functional but high-class suit walked quickly. He was everything you expect from a soldier - serious and cold eyes, lean figure and short hair. The man looked nothing like people here, so Finnick assumed he wasn't from around here, probably from District 2.  

Then, she appeared. Beautiful white wedding gown, with red gemstones covering her shoulders and descending onto the neckline. From afar, Finnick assumed it was made to resemble fire. But when she moved closer, he realised. The gemstones were droplets of blood. People caught that too, judging from a few gasps in the crowd. Y/N smiled at them, a knowing look in her eyes. The goodbye look.

It hurt, Finnick noted with slight amazement. Watching her kiss a stranger instead of him. What hurt more were her tears, which many falsely assumed were happy. Finnick did not miss how her now husband grabbed her forearm in anger or how her mother tried to cover her sobs in Mr.'s Y/L/N shoulder.

''We have two minutes. He promised me he'll kill me if I ever spoke to you again. And I believe him.''

''Snow?"

''No, Derek. They say he turned his ex-wife into the avox. Can you believe that?'' Y/N chuckled, but Finnick knew better. She was scared.

''Snow also made it very clear that we can't speak again.''

Y/N nodded. ''I guess it is for the best.''

He wanted to say more: to comfort her, to say that it'll be alright, to say that he loves her. But it would make no difference, only give them something they can never afford to have - hope.

Y/N seemed to understand that too. ''Try to stay alive, Finnick. It suits you.''

-

The month changed quickly after that. Quite frankly, Finnick lost count of them a long time ago. Nothing new. Same faces, same duties, the same fake smiles and a small voice in his head.

The voice that slowly poisoned his mind. The voice that woke him up at night and haunted him in the daytime. Telling him that he is a coward, that there was a choice, he was just not brave enough to make it.

When the Quarter Quell was announced Finnick thought he might be going insane. He had not slept all night, preferring to stare into the relentless ocean. It has calmed him before, but not this time. Finnick was sure that he isn't seeing this water again - Snow will have him in that damn arena, and the chances of getting out were even smaller than before.

It was like a fever dream - reaping, interviews, countless photoshoots. It felt bitter but, at the same time, very familiar. He did not have to bother to attract sponsors or build a good image for the Capitol - years of work before came in handy. Finnick was left with a week of existence before his death. Very generous.

A few visits to his most generous sponsors. An hour or two. A pretty smile here and a moan there. Nothing of the unusual kind. Some cried, and some assured they will be doing everything possible to get him back. If Finnick could, he would laugh right in their atrociously painted faces.

The last client for today. A huge hotel with hundreds of rooms, very acquainted to Finnick. Golden doors, luxurious lobby. Room 23, the door to the right. He knocked and opened it without bothering to wait.

''Missed me, fisher boy?'' Y/N and her luminous dress. Finnick quickly shortened the distance between them, embracing the woman in a hug. She smelled sweet, with a hint of sourness - probably the healing cream.

''You have no idea.''

She chuckled in his chest. Finnick thought that this is how he would like to go - in her arms. He quickly lost the idea when she started speaking.

''We have an hour, then he'll find out. I am so sorry about the Games, but I won't be able to help you. Derek can't stand even your face in the magazine. Such an insecure asshole he is.''

Y/N looked up at him, a storm of feelings in her eyes taking Finnick's breath away.  And then he did something he never thought he would - he kissed her.

It was thorough and shamelessly hearty, nothing like the usual kissing he has done. Hell, she was not even his client - she was the woman he loved, the woman that he so desperately wanted to be his. Finnick felt her tilting her head to the right, pulling away.

''Don't,'' he mumbled, bringing her closer.

''You know you don't have to do it, right? You owe me nothing, Finnick.''

''But I want to. I want you. If you'll have me.''

Finnick felt Y/N's hands on his neck, pulling him in for another, much rougher, almost bruising kiss. They have an hour.

-

Salty waves touched his feet, bringing a burning sensation to the cuts and blisters - they will heal faster that way. The hot daytime sun was finally setting, allowing a few moments of peace in the blood-soaked arena.

Mags was already dead - it was absurd to think she had a chance to survive, as much as Finnick wanted to believe that. He will mourn her if he ever gets out of here.

The one thing occupying his mind was the birds, jabberjays. Finnick couldn't allow himself to believe another lie - Y/N was probably dead or on the verge of dying. He hoped she had gone quickly and without much pain, although judging from her cries, it was far from that.

Even if she was still alive, the first thing when the rebellion breaks out will be her torture. Finnick had sacrificed her for the revolution, for the future. And still, the thought of her eyes haunted him at night. Y/N will be dead now or later; for supporting the rebellion or being on the other side of it, and he sentenced her.

Finnick hopes she forgives him. He wishes they had met in another life - Finnick can almost hear Y/N's cheerful laugh and her soft hands holding his face. ''I love you,'' she says, and for once, it sounds happy, not bitter.

He will do his task - Finnick will get the lovebirds out alive. But then, he will make her a nice grave. They will be together. Y/N wanted to see District 4, his home. It will be her home too.

-

The plan worked. Katniss was on the hovercraft. The rebellion has started. Finnick tried to focus on what Haymitch was telling although in vain. It felt real now, the deaths of people he loved. The Capitol took the ones left - Finnick wished he could call them dead.

The door to the room opened, and Plutarch spoke.

''Took you long enough. We were almost getting bored, you know?''

Finnick glanced at the man in irritation. How could he say that? The fire girl lost more in that arena than Heavensbee could imagine.

''Plutarch, I suppose being away from the Snow's grasp helped you lose your manners? I can still have your tongue, so don't get too comfortable."

Finnick's head shot up at the sound of a familiar voice. It couldn't be.

But, there she stood. Y/N. Without her extravagant clothes and vibrant makeup, in a simple grey jumpsuit, she looked much younger.

''Finnick, this is Y/N Y/L/N, although I believe you have met before.''

He did not listen. Finnick embraced the woman, feeling Y/N's hands gripping his torso. She was here. Alive. Breathing and muttering something in his ear. He did not detect it at first, so caught up in his emotions.

''Finn, I love you, but I can't breathe.''

Y/N let out a burst of shaky laughter as Finnick instantly let her go, feeling a slow smile growing on his face.

They made it.

[suckmyfatdee]

HOTD YAP BECAUSE I'M BORED!

Hate=Block, I only allow comments that are respectful about their own opinion and not ones that start frothing at their mouth for my opinion. If you can't handle criticism against your faves(at least against how the show wrote them), don't read.

As much as I believe the writers are far more biased to Rhaenyra, I do believe they fucked over both sides and while trying to make this some kind of Girlboss women empowerment show, they are making their women dumb. Genuinely. I've genuinely thought over everything and compared it to the books and now I'm just thinking "Wtf are you guys doing to our girls?"

And it's the people still believing the show is the absolute canon. Someone said "George was consulted that the show would be the canon of what actually happened, so that means it is the canon.".....Boy, no? Does George's blog post a few months ago not tell you that he didn't agree with the changes and if he's the creator of that world then it's his word against Condal's and Sara's.

Season one was good, I won't lie but even then they started fucking over the characters. I don't think they need to do everything strictly like the books, since obviously this book is supposed to be like a history book with many accounts where it's kinda left for you to interpret what happened or form an opinion of what happened.

But the changes just don't make sense at all or even drastic changes to make a character worse and then to claim that the changes are what actually happened. Just because the books didn't give us a direct account of what happened, doesn't mean that the writers can just change what they want. They've changed so much in ways that don't even make sense and it ways that won't even align to important/iconic events in the books.

The first and foremost thing you notice at the start of the show as a book reader is the ages. They wrote the ages so without even thinking much, events don't line up at all.

And I guess the relationship Rhaenyra had with Alicent was cute at the start, I genuinely loved it. It would have given more spice to their future animosity. But no, they choose the most unrealistic way to approach this, which shows me the show writers have no idea how to critically change their thinking to fit the theme of the world they are writing about. They are using modern thinking rather than the one that makes sense the most. And they also seem to either only view the full picture in black and white, or see colours in the picture that aren't there(adding things that don't make sense).

They made Alicent betray her whole family for a woman who LOGICALLY by their time actually would have to kill her sons, or whose husband would definitely kill her sons. Like come on! These women have been enemies longer than they have been friends, any love towards each other should have started to diminish the moment Rhaenyra had no sympathy for Aemond when he lost his eye and even demanded him tortured, and for Rhaenyra it should have gone the moment Alicent asked for Lucerys' eye. Like come on, they are MOTHERS! And I'm not saying that is all they are and their characters should be knocked down to only being a mother. But even in the books that's an important factor of their character.

And the show made the war so dumb to the point where it truly seems that Rhaenyra and Alicent should by all means be kept away from power. They have no critical thinking at all!

Rhaenyra ran from conflict when Jacaerys asked her if he was a bastard, instead of facing it and trying to further strengthen her claim by trying to at least help or prove her political savvy to the Small Council and Lords. Since the writers already change everything they could have made her stay. But no, she ran. AND GOES TO MARRY THE MAN WHO IS THE VERY REASON SHE WAS NAMED HEIR IN THE FIRST PLACE. THEY WANTED TO KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE THRONE! Then later, when Lucerys' claim to driftmark is challenged she once again, before even attempting to take care of the problem herself, by using logic or properly preparing Lucerys, she begs her bedridden father to make these people listen to her. And when she lost hope that he would, and had to push her son's claim herself, you could hear her start something about twenty years ago...meaning she was probably trying to tell them about how they bent the knee to her and called her heir...in a situation where that mattered only little? This wasn't about her claim, this was about her son's claim, and her son's claim wasn't questioned because she was a woman who was the heir to the iron throne but because people thought her son a bastard, and not a Velaryon which is why they didn't want someone who isn't Velaryon to inherit something from their bloodline. She isn't actually politically prepared AT ALL and obviously thinks that her father naming her heir and making the lords bend their knees to her once ONCE(without even asking their council and before three legitimate sons were born) is the panacea to any political problem she has. That is her not being prepared, and she unknowingly showcases her lack of preparation. Lucky for her, her father saves her ass and gets out of his near death bed to tell the lords to shut up about their problems in favour of Rhaenyra.

And Alicent! A woman who was the Queen Regent when her husband was too ill and kept the Realm at peace with her father, for years, suddenly knows nothing of politics? Please. She ruled in her husband's stead for what I assume is six years(the time after the Driftmark discourse when we obviously see Viserys is too weak), and even before that, after she declared 'war' at Rhaenyra's wedding, she also sat the council considering she was the Queen Consort. She was a part of the council that long, her father is an incredibly intelligent man and the hand of the King and she knows nothing now? Why did she lose her political savvy in season 2?

Why were they both dumb and let each other enter the other's 'territory' while their factions are at war and thousands of innocent are dying, because of the other's faction. Alicent could've had Rhaenyra killed, there were Guards! And when Alicent came to Rhaenyra she could've held Alicent hostage. Critical thinking ladies! I'm not saying that would have stopped the war but Rhaenyra was the reason they fought for and Alicent was the one that sat Aegon on the throne!

And why is Helaena as Queen Consort not doing shit? Before Jaehaerys' death, in the books she also participated the Small Council and actually engaged! And if she can relax at home and seemingly isn't in any way too affected that her son died, why is she being useless? AND I LOVE HELAENA! TRUST I DO! But this is ridiculous what they've done to my girl.

Baela is just Rhaenyra's cheerleader now and will lecture/sorta manipulate and gaslight anyone that doubts Rhaenyra or feels openly conflicted.

Rhaena....I'm just gonna be silent.

Rhaenys was okay, badass but not the smartest.

Like, they've done my women dirty. Don't start a war with me.

Anyways. End of yap.(Can you tell I'm a certified yapper?)

[undergloom]

hi! i'm a littke confused by the tags on the misandry post, why would men of color be targeted by misandry in a way other marginalized men arent?

Hi. It makes sense you'd be confused considering it's one sentence basically out of context for a very nuanced topic.to be honest this feels a little bad faith , as a non-binary person I'm just trying to understand. I think that men of colour have different representations of masculinity spanning across many cultures and when those don't align with the current western ideas of what a man is. It's rooted in racism, but not all hatred of other people's masculinity comes from their approximation of women. There are other factors.

I don't know about other marginalized groups as much. I don't mean to exclude them in the topic, I just didn't think I need to go over every single factor in a single tag.

To be honest I don't know why so many people have come and yelled at me over a question. (Not you, you were polite)

Like idk I'm really scared and nervous BC I've been suddenly getting an influx of messaged for asking a question.

[femanthropy]

I've been seeing posts from men proudly saying they're forcing their wives to vote for Trump, but any actual self proclaimed feminist doing it would be insane

So sorry I only just saw this!

I’ve heard women urge other women to lie to their husbands about voting for Trump and I hope none of them are harmed if he somehow finds out :(

It’s a cesspool. A lot of “liberal” men are showing their true colours. And I also refuse to believe that a feminist would vote for Trump, allegations alone. I’m not pretending to be a holier than thou most moral person ever, but genuinely none of the beliefs Trump holds aligns with feminism.

The gender critical crowd voted for Trump seemingly for his policies on stopping gender clinics/transition for children especially. I would argue that in simple terms, “TERFs” are gender critical (gender atheist) but people who are soley gender critical aren’t necessarily radfems.

I’d speculate a lot of the radical leftists could have voted third party if they were truly stupid. But idk. It’s tragic honestly.

I’m absolutely not well versed in American politics nor the whole “two party” thing. We have coalitions here. So all my speculations are hearing what all sides of Americans think of this whole thing.

[do-u-ever-just]

DRUM STICKS AND ROSE QUARTZ

Rated E | 35,000 Words (Current)

Sasuke is desperate for a new roommate, but when Naruto answers his ad, he has to wonder exactly how desperate he is. Naruto is obsessed with Sasuke's horoscope, keeps recommending he carry around different coloured rocks that are meant to bring him inner-peace and shit, and refuses to cook anything that once had a face. But Naruto is neat, polite, quiet, and pays his rent on time. Logically, besides offering to help align Sasuke’s chakras, he’s the ideal roommate.

And Sasuke wants to punch his face every time he sees him.

CHAPTER 8: August - Part 1

Sasuke pauses.  “You think this is because you're transgender?” Naruto’s face softens, eyes flickering, and Sasuke knows he’s hit the nail on the head.  Naruto blinks, sniffs again, and the red rim of his eyes stands out even in the dark. “I told you.” Naruto looks at his feet, before seeming to gather whatever courage he can to look Sasuke in the eye.  “I’m always wondering if it’s because I’m trans.” Sasuke can’t stand it anymore. He can’t stand Naruto thinking so little of himself.  He can’t stand resisting him, like he’s not the most fuckable thing on two legs to ever strut into Sasuke’s life.  He can’t stand this back and forth like Naruto is trying to hide something from Sasuke, who can’t even be mad, because he’s been trying to hide something from Naruto, too. Naruto, who he likes so much.  So much so, he can’t stand that either. “Oh for fucks sake."  Sasuke’s grip tightens. "Get over yourself!”  

Things boil over the edge and hidden feels come out.

Tags: Trans Uzumaki Naruto, Confessions, Getting Together, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus

Chapter 8 on AO3

Start at Chapter 1

[jackoshadows]

@whitedragonwolf4961 in response to the two asks you send me:

1. I don’t think that how the books turn out is going to change anything with Jonsa shippers/Sansa fans in the same way that having pictures from space and scientific proof of the earth being round does not change the opinions of flat earthers. We have 5 books now. Do you think the absurd metas and rewriting of the story and characters we get from these stans have anything to do with those books?

These are the fools who came up with ‘political!Jon’ because they are cinematography experts who analyzed the light coming through a window on the boat when Jon and Dany were talking!!

These are the fools who continue using the TV show and especially show Sansa’s arc on the TV to speculate on her book story despite GRRM repeatedly disavowing that plot specifically in all his interviews and saying that the show and the books are two different and separate canon.

They don’t care!! Even if in TWoW we get Jon and Arya reuniting and there’s lots of mussing of hair and tears and love, they will just replace Arya with Sansa in their essays and talk about how it’s foreshadowing for Jonsa happening in A Dream of Spring.

Even if we get more hints of Jon and Dany being aligned in thought and purpose and of a future alliance between them in TWoW, they will still continue with how Jon is going to murder Dany for his true love Sansa in the last book because the colour red popped up in some corner of his room.

And if Arya becomes the Lady of Winterfell instead of Sansa? I expect lots of essays from bnfs and feminism experts about GRRM being sexist and what not. 100 % sure of this. After all they have been banging on and on about Sansa being the ‘embodiment of hope for the future’, the best politician on the planet, ‘Sansa Smart’, expert on food and diplomacy unlike political noob Jon Snow and violent killer Arya. How to deal with it? Oh no, we did not realize that GRRM is a woman hater who didn’t grasp the awesomeness of a character like Sansa.

2. Regarding Kit Harington and Jon Snow. I tend to not blame the actors for characters they play on TV shows tbh. I put the blame on ultimate hacks, Benioff and Weiss for failing upwards as rich, white men and turning in an horrendous script, full of one-dimensional characters, no plot, no themes and dripping with their sexism, toxic masculinity and femininity. There was really not much Harington could do when the script gave him literally nothing! Book Jon Snow is a rich, complex character with several layers of plot and story telling piled on him over 42 POV chapters. All they gave show Jon Snow was fighting in battles.

I know Sophie Turner gets a lot of hate and she just comes across as the typical rich, white teen when giving interviews. She honestly sounds like the stereotypical Sansa stan on tumblr. And yet the blame lies on Benioff and Weiss for taking tips on writing Sansa/Arya from teenagers reading tumblr metas rather than actually adapting the book you know? Turner was only spouting off what these hacks were putting out there on their TV show. And from everything Emilia Clarke is saying about how she was being pressurized in terms of nudity and sex scenes, the behind the scenes of this show is clearly a very toxic mess.

I think Kit Harington is a decent actor - he does good in comedy and I liked his take on a sleazy character accused of rape in season 2 of Criminal UK. Jon Snow is a hard character to play given how much of his POV is internal and yet Benioff and Weiss did not even attempt to faithfully adapt the book version just like they did not with Arya Stark and instead reduced these characters to tropes.

I honestly can’t say if another actor would have been better in the role of Jon Snow given the material on the show for the character is so poor. Would it have made a difference if they had an Olivier award winner in the role? All this award winner would do is swing a sword around and play supporting prop to other characters.

Actors will also defend the characters they play. We love these characters so much as readers of these books. These actors have spend ten years of their life inhabiting these characters and love them just as much as we do. Of course Kit is going to defend show Jon Snow just like Emilia defends Daenerys and Dinklage defends Tyrion.

I am just going to reserve my ire for

- Benioff and Weiss who seem to not even like fantasy, did not care for themes, characters and the story of the books, did not hire a writer’s room, had only male writers/directors and were petty in firing actors (by killing off their characters) if they criticized the show and

- GRRM, who even after seeing the utter mess D&D have made of his story has failed to finish a book in 12 years including a pandemic where we were all shut up inside our homes for close to 18 months.

GRRM is the reason for why the only ending we will have for this story started almost 30 years ago is the garbage that is the TV show. I am not entirely happy with the adaptation of the Wheel of Time tv show and I can see the showrunner taking hints from D&D in terms of how and what gets adapted for viewership numbers. And yet I am not all that bothered by this because we will always have the books and the book characters. We know how the story ends for these characters. Sadly with ASoIaF we will never have that while GRRM is busy consulting on the umpteenth spin off.

So yeah, don’t really blame the actors. They are only playing characters on a TV show and that depended on the script they got.

[heligan]

I am thinking, on this fine winter evening, about Raphael’s halfhearted belief in heaven because he thinks it’s a better thing to believe than the alternatives. How does the Catholic idea of having a fixed point of death after which he can go to heaven, hell or purgatory match up with the knowledge that he doesn’t die in the sense that other humans die, because there’s no moment in time at which he becomes dead but rather he slowly becomes less and less alive?

(Cut because it’s a bit long)

There’s clearly a progression from being alive and human in all ways except physically - ‘just the same; his colours all gone but just the same’ to unmoving and unresponsive like the markayuq in the graveyard, to wearing down until they are only distinguishable from normal stones if you know exactly what to look for, but it’s unclear whether there is an instant in which a markayuq becomes definitively dead.

In chapter twenty-seven Raphael does refer to the markayuq in the house and graveyard as ‘nearly dead’ but there’s a few reasons why I think this might not be an accurate description. Raphael has spent his entire working life thinking about and dealing with death from a Catholic perspective, having not had a chance to interact with anyone from his home since childhood. There’s also the fact that there is only one markayuq in a generation at most, so although he seems to be an expert on them from Merrick’s perspective (not that the bar for that is high), there was nobody to teach him properly so it’s quite possible he doesn’t know as much about the markayuq as he should. In the same chapter he finds out for the first time that markayuq talk to each other and that St Thomas used to know Atahualpa, the last Incan king. Even if he is aware that the end of a markayuq’s life is more complicated than just dying, he’s speaking to Merrick and therefore could be referring to the decay markayuq undergo as death for simplicity, which certainly aligns with his own attitudes towards inter-cultural translation.

Incan attitudes towards death, however, make a lot more sense in conjunction with the idea of markayuq not having a fixed moment of death. Markayuq used to guard the Incan kings both while they were alive and after death at their tombs, and so the view of them decaying over time matches the view the Incas had of death, also not as a fixed moment but as a linear progression beginning with the decay of the mind and body in old age and ending with ‘social death’ - when one is forgotten by the last living person who remembers them. A person’s heart stopping, or consciousness leaving them, are just one step along the way - and even these two often occur at different times. Incan kings especially were viewed as still being active in society after their physical death and therefore still alive in other ways; their bodies were mummified to preserve them and their panaca (some particular relatives) would make social and political decisions on their behalf which would be taken into account as if the king was still alive [1].

It makes much more sense to have kings who slowly became less alive as they become older, new kings reign and their influence in the courts wane, guarded by markayuq who also become less alive as they spend longer and longer asleep and their stone bodies are worn down by the elements than it does to have markayuq who die and go to heaven. Raphael is, however, as Merrick puts it, one of a ‘new generation of hispanicised markayuq’, and the only one who holds a belief of the afterlife which is not only different to every one of his peers but also is at odds with the very nature of his existence.

Raphael thinks of his own belief in heaven: ‘it wasn’t belief of the mathematical, reasoned kind, only the sort that arises when the alternative would mean becoming one of those men who worked like machines and never spoke to anyone, old at forty.’ but that’s an understatement! His alternative is slowly losing his ability to move and think after watching everyone around him be buried, accompanied only by people who consider him an outsider in his own culture, no more kings to guard on their own paths to being forgotten until his body eventually becomes building material for the Spanish, yet never truly dying.

No wonder he wants to believe in heaven.

[1] Rostworowski Tovar de Diez Canseco, M. 1988, Historia del Tahuantinsuyu

[ciaossu-imagines]

Okay, but no matter how old this show is or how old I get, Ronin Warriors will always be one of my first loves and one of the first anime that really got me into watching it! The wheel picked for me in terms of characters, and I used this prompt here to create some headcanons for Cye! I hope anyone familiar with the show (if anyone other than me is) will enjoy!

A nervous tic or habit they do?

I feel like, whenever nervous, Cye does have a bad habit of playing with his hair. He runs his hands through it and, if really stressed, can even take to pulling out strands of it.

Describe their usual smile.

Soft and sweet, most of the time. When he’s really happy, grinning and laughing, it still somehow manages to look very soft and genuine. His eyes crinkle a lot when he grins and laughs but he’s not a very toothy smiler. When being polite or just mildly friendly, he smiles without showing any teeth at all. He tends to look like he’s smiling even when he isn’t.

Do they look up or down while thinking?

He tends to look down when seriously thinking about something. His mind just turns very inward in those moments, and he’ll end up staring vacantly at the floor or his lap. When trying to remember something though, Cye looks up and to the left and, on the very, very occasions he lies about something, Cye looks down and to the left.

Describe their usual sleeping position.

Cye sleeps on his side. He likes to face the door whenever possible so which side he sleeps on will really depend on the alignment of the bed within the room. He tends to not like to be completely covered with blankets, keeping them at chest height or a little lower. He’ll sleep with the arm he’s lying on raised up under his head, cushioning it, and the other one folded either across his hips or his chest and his legs a little bent. He’s a very static sleeper and doesn’t tend to move once he falls asleep.

Describe something they like without naming it?

One word, guys…Wet.

What’s their posture like in a normal situation?

Cye has had training in proper manners, including his posture and he tends to stand straight and confidently. Even though he has good posture though, he doesn’t give the illusion of taking up a lot of space and, when sitting, he’s fairly compact. He never commits the ‘sin’ of man-spreading, and often crosses his legs either at the knee or the ankle when sitting.

Describe their hands.

Like most things about Cye, his hands are very soft and gentle. They’re large but surprisingly graceful looking, with long, elegant fingers. His nails are kept short and clean and the grooves and indents of his knuckles aren’t very deep. His hands are always a little cool to the touch, but not unpleasantly so.

Write a quote they would find themselves saying.

It’s not so much that I could see him saying it, but I do think he’d really enjoy the following quote and he does his best to live his life by it. “There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy.” – Ralph H. Blum

How would their hair gray? Or would they lose their hair first?

Cye’s family doesn’t display male-pattern baldness, with most of his male relatives keeping their hair long into their old age. His hair, because of its colour, doesn’t gray completely but turns a mixture of gray and an almost blondish white. It happens slowly and tends to show along the sides first.

Describe how they show affection.

Cye’s love language, at least in how he shows affection to other people, is very much a mix of acts of service and words of affirmation. He’s not going to say he loves people often, but he does give reassurances and encouragement often and is never shy with a compliment. He likes to help the people he cares about too, often in small and subtle ways, doing whatever he can to make their lives easier by taking care of chores, by cooking for them, by helping them with problems they might have, or giving help with work or schoolwork they don’t understand. Even just knowing they’re having a rough time, he tries hard to either be a listening ear for them or to take them out to do something fun if he knows that they don’t like to talk about their feelings and a distraction from their issues would be more helpful for them.

What is one of their favourite items?

I think he has a dolphin plush at his mother’s home that she got for him as a young child. I headcanon it as being his boyhood stuffed animal, rather than a stereotypical bear, and I think it really means a lot to him. He doesn’t sleep with it anymore and it largely stays up on a shelf where it won’t get further damaged, because it is beat up after years of childhood play, but I also think that when he gets really sad, he brings it down and just holds it or pets it.

[katiexklein]

I saw myself in summer nights And stars lit up like candle lights I made my wish but mostly I Believed

[ natalie portman ] – have you heard about [ Katie klein ]? [ she/her ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ six months]. they’re [ thirty-nine] yrs old and seem very [ cunning ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [ docile ] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [ recruiter ]. they often daydream about [ walking through the hallowed halls bathed in sunlight on her way to a lecture]. i’m curious to know more.

Bio

Born into a military family, Katie moved around quite a bit in her youth. She turned to books as her comfort due to never being able to maintain friendships for more than a few years at a time. Books were always there for her, and the friends she made within the pages never changed.

Attended Oxford where she obtained her degree in Literature. She wished to bring others the comfort that she herself enjoyed in the written word. Thus she soon became a best-selling novelist.

The fungus was something stranger than any fiction that she could imagine. The independence she gained as a young woman was forfeited in exchange for the comfort provided with her retired military father. He focus went to doing everything within her power to preserve humanity, losing a bit of her innocence and naivety as she traded words for weapons.

After his death, Katie wished to honor her father’s memory. But the memories she made in her old qz were a bit too much for her, thus she's came to Pittsburgh.

Basic Information

Full Name: Katherine Meredith Klein

Nickname(s): Katie

Age: 39

Date of Birth: September 16

Nationality: American

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: bisexual

Religion: n/a

Political Affiliation: Independent

Occupation: Former novelist, current recruiter

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Natalie Portman

Hair Colour: Brown

Eye Colour:  Brown

Tattoos: Small bird on inner left wrist- usually covered by watch band

Piercings: Ears

Personality

Positive Traits: Cunning, Considerate, Creative, Compassionate

Negative Traits: Docile, Indecisive, Fretful

Goals/Desires: To leave the world a better place

Fears: Bees

Hobbies: Reading, writing, painting

Favorites

Weather: Sunshine

Color: Pastel colors

Music: Singer Songwriters

Movies: Romance and historical drama

Beverage: Tea

Food: Petit fours

Family

Father: Alexander Klein (deceased)

Mother: Eloise Klein

Sibling(s): Sarah Wilde (younger sister)

Other: Josh Wilde (nephew), Alice Wilde (niece), James Wilde (brother-in-law)

Extra

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

MBTI: INFP

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good

Element: Water

[fictional-reylin]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Boku no Hīrō Akademia dating headcaons

This is a collection of headcaons regarding the dating preferences for the bnha guys. Will probably do for other characters as well in the future.

You are welcome to send requests, don't forget to check this post: ಇ.┊[requests] .ᐟ

Midoriya Izuku

He probably had a decent number of crushes, maybe like five or so from childhood to adolescence.

I think he's the type to be more attracted to personality than physique, so his crushes looked nothing alike, but their personalities were the same.

Speaking of personalities: bubbly, free spirited, maybe a little bratty and definitely the optimist type or maybe realist.

His idea of a nice date would be going to the arcade or on a picnic. If dating long enough then dates at home are added to the mix.

At the start of dating since Izuku is the polite type I think he wouldn't drop the formalities immediately and still call his partner by last name.

When dating I think Izuku is a real gentleman, opening the door, buying flowers/gifts regardless of the occasion, very wary of boundaries.

If I had to think of a negative when dating him is probably that he will try to fix the problem that his partner has instead of just listening. But if called out on it he is going to ask beforehand what he needs to do or not do when his partner vents.

Bakugō Katsuki

I'm sorry but this guy cannot possibly develop a crush, I don't see him that way. He probably can tell if someone is pretty, but developing romantic feelings is not on the table.

But, in the case he does develop a crush, he will ignore it. He will avoid the person at all costs to the point that he forgets about it and moves on with his life.

But to what kind of person, he will be attracted ? 100% the quiet type, the introvert. Not shy, but introvert. Sarcastic, confident, a realist type. In short, him but way less aggressive.

Dates ? Being with his partner is a date. But if you ask him about it, he will say going to the gym. Purely because he wants to annoy his partner.

He already is rude so he will not bother being polite to his partner. Anything that they don't voice out as a no is a yes to him, because he knows that they would have said something if they're uncomfortable.

His love language is definitely physical contact. So, a lot of hand holding, hugging, and just in general a lot of physical contact.

Negative trait. Well, he treats his partner like his friend. The only reason everyone knows they're a couple is because they had told them and even then people are convinced they’re not.

Kirishima Eijirō

I think he does develop crushes but doesn't really pay attention to it. Like he will develop a crush and then just act the same with them as everyone else, maybe a tiny bit more friendly.

But if it's more serious than a crush he will confess his feelings and try to get closer to the person.

He's the opposite of Izuku when it comes to attraction. All of his crushes look alike or at least have some key features in common. So, for him as long as the personality is okay, and the looks align with his preferences.

Speaking of preferences. Definitely someone who is muscular. Like very muscular. I know in bnha everyone has non-natural coloured hair, but I feel like in the real world he would be attracted to non-natural hair (blue, pink, red, etc...). Someone tall, maybe even taller than him.

He isn't picky with dates. Anything that his partner wants to do he'll do it, he's very flexible in that area. So he went from dates like the typical movies to extreme sports.

He is a gentleman. Carrying his partner's bag, complimenting them, being really into his partner's hobby.

Negative trait ? I think it depends on the partner that he has.

Kaminari Denki

Tons of crushes. Each time (if) he gets rejected he waits like three months to get another one.

When he develops a crush, he is not the type to be shy about it, immediately makes it clear that he is interested because he doesn't have anything to lose anyway.

When it comes to appearance and personality, I think it is 50/50 for him. And he doesn’t really have a type, so his crushes can vary in appearance and/or personality.

And I think when it comes to his preference in personality, it’s two completely opposites. Let’s say quiet, keeps to themselves, or complete burst of energy. Nothing in the middle.

I’d say when it comes to dates he likes something active, that will give him adrenaline. So skateboarding, arcade, escape game, etc…

I would guess he’s very clingy. Holding his partner’s hand is not enough, he needs to cuddle them 24/7, be near them every time. He will complain if they go to the bathroom.

Negative trait: He’s kind of childish. Doesn’t really know how to dissolve conflict because he doesn’t really know how to ? But he tries obviously.

Todoroki Shōto

For obvious reasons, he didn't really get the chance to have crushes, but as he starts to open up and be more social, I think he will have that love at first sight kind of thing. Idk I think it's of fitting.

That first and only love when he knows he wants to marry that person the moment he lays eyes on them, even if he doesn't really know how to express it.

He's more the type to prioritize personality over looks, but not because he doesn't care about them, but because he finds everyone pretty in their own way.

His partner will definitely be someone shy, but really extroverted and friendly. Who's always polite and just a people person in general.

At first, he would probably let his partner pick their dates, since he doesn't really know what would be appropriate in terms of it. But as he gets more comfortable in this area, he will start to voice out his opinions more.

His love language is probably telling his partner how much he loves them and cherishes them. Always being vocal about how much they mean to him and that his life wouldn't be complete without them.

As for a negative trait, he's passive. He doesn't want to make his partner feel like they don't have a choice in the matter so it's always "What do you want ?" "What do you prefer ?" "I don't really have a preference"

Īda Ten'ya

He’s the type to kind of ignore his crushes but not act on them because he’s treating it like a rational thing: he’s too young for that, it will be uncomfortable if the other person doesn’t reciprocate.

But once he's out of UA and finally an adult, he would be up to dating because he's more relaxed as a person and because "both parties aren't influenced by teenage hormones" (you can fight me on this but I'm 100% that sentence would have left his mouth)

He cares about personality more than looks, but he's also not too picky, I guess. As long as the person is on the more serious side of things.

While dating it's he definitely is the romantic type, so dates in the cinema, picnics, high class restaurants, etc... If his partner is uncomfortable with that, he'll try to still be his romantic self but accommodating his partner's boundaries.

His love language is acts of service so every time his partner wants something or wants to do something, that's his top priority and nothing gets in the way, even his hero work.

He probably gets into a relationship only if he sees a future with that person, so the second he knows their taste in jewellery he gets the ring. Though he probably won't propose until he's sure it's the right time.

Negative trait. I feel like he sees the world in black and white so that would definitely take a toll on his partner because obviously things aren't like that.

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[leseigneurdufeu]

sure @dianacraft so:

the shoelaces.

The old (like early 2010's old) way to find a tumblrina irl (note: tumblrina, name, neutral gender: someone who has an account on tumblr) was to go to that person and say "i like your shoelaces". If the other person was a tumblrina, the answer would be "thanks, i stole them from the president".

colour theory.

born from a 2020 (i think?) pic of a children's hospital redecorated with funny abstract paintings on the floor, except the painting was red, which made it look like a trail of blood. The legend of the pic was commenting on how the colour could have been something else and a reply made an extensive essay about how in colour theory, red had more positive than negative meanings, and it was totally appropriate.

Goncharov (and Malisa)

Goncharov is a meme born from a pair of bootleg shoes with a sticker saying "goncharov, a martin scorsese movie, by matteo jwhj0715, about naples mafia" (approx.). Someone asked "what's this movie it doesn't exist???" (because it doesn't. it's a knock-off of Gommorra, an actual scorsese movie) and someone else answered "this idiot hasn't watched goncharov".

That was in 2020. In 2022 (mid-end of november if I'm not wrong) some twitter refugees pick up the memes where they left and start recirculating it. It immediately becomes very popular, trending for a week, prompting the creation of posters (the "official" one being from @beelzeebub, fanarts, a very extensive AO3 fandom, gifsets and screenshots of other mafia movies falsified to look like it's from "GOncharov" (ex: The Godfather's, scenes mashup together, with fake subtitles saying "it's me. i'm goncharov" and such), fake DVD covers, and even a handful of fake matteo jwhj0715 accounts, as well as a few biographies (@matteo-jwhj0715, @therealmatteojwhj0715, @therealmatteo-jwhj-0715...).

The wikipedia page of Martin Scorsese was locked because too many people put the movie in his filmography. To this day, you can still find the goncharov poster in the list of movies he supposedly made when you look him up on google. His daughter showed him the meme and he pretended to remember making the movie. We've got a cast for it, behind-the-scenes trivia, and a few spreadsheets trying to make sense of the WHOLE meme like, there was an applebooth scene there was a lake scene there was a poker scene... who's Mario Ambrosini, good or bad guy, is Katya in love with Goncharov or Sofia, is Goncharov actually the name of the hero or a nom de guerre...

Recently, a tiktok screenshot was shown around showing a girl with the subtitles "when he doesn't want to watch the last MCU movie but speaks about a black and white movie about the serbian government shot through the eyes of a pigeon" (approx.). @candlelightsinner was among the people who made up Malisa (there's an accent on the S i just don't have it on my keyboard) the pigeon movie. Same as with matteo jwhj0715, fictional director Boro Draskovic was invented, and a fake officla account (which bickers a lot with one of the matteo jwhj0715 accounts about which fake movie is best, I know 'cause i follow them both because i'm a nerd) was created, introducing @actually-boro-draskovic. Ever since, it has a much smaller following but it WAS featured in the @bestwarmovieevertournament as it is a fake war movie.

LOSS

It's born from a silent comics about a man going into a hospital. It looks like this:

and was parodied with a lot of pictures with 1 standing, 2 standing, 2 standing, 1-standing-and-1-lying pictures. I remember seeing someone putting pictures of the four US presidents to have been assassinated together by political denominations of murderers (since political compasses also go two-up-and-two-down) and someone commented it worked as a LOSS.jpg format since the standing and lying pictures aligned perfectly with the original. It's also refered to in written language as "I II II IL" for that reason.

The Destiel Confession Meme.

It looks like this:

Its only purpose now is to announce big news. Example are "the queen of england/first man to have been diagnosed with autism/prime minister of Japan died today", "Reddit/Twitter is falling down", "the indian childcare act was not striken down" etc. It's for IMPORTANT WORLD NEWS as well as important show business/cultural news, not to say "i've got Xk followers!" or "i'm creating a sideblog!". I'm putting this meme down the list because if anyone sees it at the head of a post, their first reaction WILL be "oh shit what happened?"

It's called Destiel Confession meme because it's the love confession of Castiel to Dean in the TV Show Supernatural, the ship being finally realized. It happened on the 5th of november, same day as Putin was elected, which prompted people to baptize the day "Putin Destiel day" and make it a national tumblr holiday.

Superwholock

Speaking of supernatural, it's part of the Superwholock. A Big Three of the fandoms, Supernatural, Doctor WHo and BBC Sherlock Holmes, which were the three most popular fandoms on tumblr for years in the 2012's (using that term because "tumblr 2012" is used to mean the height of classic tumblr). Other important fandoms were the MCU (most of the Stark Tower AUs in which the avengers, peter parker, loki and a reader self-insert all live together in the stark tower are from this period), Twilight (the twilight renaissance is ironical appreciation of the books and movies), disney princesses and pixar-multiverse-theories, harry potter (mainly drarry. urgh).

the big crackfics

Speaking of fandoms and harry potter fanfics, My Immortal. It's a dark,satanic, nsfw, fic that was first posted on ffn i think? (fanfiction.net) and although not everyone read it, everyone is familiar with the incipit: "Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them." (taken from the full text available on the my-immortal-fandom site). It is very often quoted for just the "hi my name is [...] major fucking hottie" part, sometimes re-written to correspond to other characters such as Patrick Bateman from American Psycho.

There's also a Fallout: New Vegas x My Little Poney crossover fic called Fallout: Equestria.

Vanilla extract and Tournaments (it's linked)

When polls were first introduced as a feature, tumblr immediately started using it for collaborative art (making an E with the answers of a 5-answers poll, for example) and one person gave a list of ingredients, including vanilla extract, to make a cake, asking people to vote so the ingredients aligned with the recipe. Vanilla extract won the poll by a 50% margin and for the next days, vanilla extract trended as people put it in every meme they could.

Anyway the Tournaments are born from the same feature being introduced, and now there are tournaments for everything. Best war movie ever, best webtoon dark haired male lead, best fourth wall breakers, best orange character, best light-hair-dark-hair duo, strongest child in fiction, best bald guy, best catholic saint, best iconic tumblr post (many of the contestants being in this post btw. your homeworks are to go to that poll and read all posts linked. you'll find it here @iconic-post-bracket).

Tumblr Bookclub

The hottest thing around right now is being member of a bookclub (a substack sending you chapters of a classics day by day), such as Dracula Daily (the most famous on this site), Whale Weekly (Moby Dick), Letters from Watson (Sherlock Holmes) or one of the few that are already over and I don't know if they picked up again for the new year, such as the LOTR newsletter, the Cristo Account, Frankenstein, and Jekyll, etc.

The dracula daily memes alone would require a comprehensive guide and I'm turning you to one of the numerous dracula-themed blogs out there, @ourgoodfriendjonathan, @dracula-dictionary, @dracula-daily-memes etc.

Other memes

The colour of the sky, you'll pick up when the original meme arrives on your dashboard. The "sold by your parents to one direction" one is mostly dead. There are a bunch of other classic memes probably but I can't think of them rn.

Fall of Twitter:

Tumblr: LMAOOOO let's shoot fires in the air and make up a mafia movie it's gonna confuse them and horrify them so much! Mishapocalypse! Putin Destiel! Colour theory! Loss Meme! Let's drive them out, let only the strongest survive!

Blackout of Reddit:

Tumblr: shush it's gonna be ok alright? come over here we've got soup for you. There's no thing like spamliking and if someone is rude to you it's not normal. Here's a comprehensive guide of our memes. Have a biscuit and a kiss on the forehead. We love you.