#and of course everyone's pants are inconveniently on

[recurring-polynya]

every so often, i start thinking about this incredibly cursed scene transition from the Hellverse movie. Renji. Rukia. Where did you come from? What were you doing, Renji and Rukia?

A few seconds later it pans out and you might hope that it provides some context. It does not. They are on somebody's roof.

what were you doing??

[munson-blurbs]

https://www.tumblr.com/munson-blurbs/756854229024620544/i-wanna-write-a-smutty-blurb-either-eddie-x?source=share

A smutty blurb, huh? Ok what about phone sex with Eddie? Reader has been away for college and they miss each others a lot, miss touching each others and they get carried away during a phone call.

Or maybe, one where they are in a secret relationship but it's getting more and more difficult to not being affectionate towards each others when they are with others, so one day during a sleepover at one of their friends house, while everyone else is asleep, they go hide in a bathroom and they go from kissing to have sex on the counter

I went with the second option! My brain saw it and I sprinted to my Google Docs.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), an inconvenient boner, fingering, unprotected p in v, kind of public sex, secret relationship, sneaking around

WC: 1.5k

“Hey.”

Eddie’s soft voice was barely audible over the hum of the TV and Robin’s sporadic snores. Nancy and Jonathan had claimed the sofa bed and were currently curled up in the center of the Buckley’s living room. You had laid your blanket as far away from Eddie as possible, so as not to draw any suspicion from the rest of the group. 

But he stood above where you’d been trying to sleep, towering over you. Had he noticed you pressing your legs together as you tried to quell the desire building between them? Did he know that you were replaying memories of him kissing your neck as he pushed into you?

“Hey,” you managed, smiling up at him. “You okay?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.” He glanced around the room, making sure everyone else was sound asleep. “I was just thinking about you, and, um…” 

Your eyes widened when he gestured to the tent in his pants, now backlit by the TV screen. 

“Was hoping you could help me out.” 

You nearly melted at the sheepishness in his smile. God, he was adorable even when he was horny; you didn’t realize that was possible. 

“Yeah, of course.” Your stomach flip-flopped when he offered out his hand; you took it and followed him to the bathroom. 

Eddie’s lips were on yours the moment the door locked behind you. You could feel his erection through his pajamas, pre-cum leaking through and giving evidence of the way his cock curved slightly left when he got hard. 

He moaned when you pressed your body against his. “I’m so hard, it hurts.” He nipped at your bottom lip, snaking a hand up your shirt and groaning again. “Love when you wear pajamas.” His thumb grazed your nipple. “Because it means you’re not wearing a bra.”

You hummed in agreement, though following even the simplest conversation seemed impossible now. 

Eddie’s other hand trailed down past the elastic waistband of your shorts. He all but whimpered when he felt the wetness awaiting him. 

“I was thinking about you, too,” you confessed. 

He grinned against your neck. “What about me?” His middle finger easily found your clit, making deliberate circles that sent pleasure rippling through you. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, already hypnotized by his touch. “About that time we cut class and you ate me out in your van.” Your breath hitched in your throat. “A-And then I offered to suck you off, but you al-already came.”

The memory came rushing back: his desperation to please you, culminating with a pair of ruined jeans and another sloppy make-out session. 

“I was a bad influence on you that day, huh? Ditching school…fooling around in public…” Eddie gripped your hips, supporting you as you hoisted yourself onto the bathroom counter. 

You shoved Robin’s hair dryer aside and scooted back. Eddie tugged down your pajama pants, then your panties, his tongue darting out over his lower lip when he saw you fully on display for him. 

“Anyone could’ve caught us,” he continued. Taking a step closer, he ran his middle finger through the wetness between your legs before sliding it inside you. “We’ve gotta be careful. Don’t want people getting suspicious.”

You could only manage a nod, gripping the counter’s edge, as he filled you with just one thick finger. He kept the rhythm slow and even, working you with a patience you hadn’t known existed. You wanted all of him, and you wanted him now, but he seemed perfectly content to focus on your pleasure. 

Eddie’s ring finger joined his middle, both curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. “How’s that?” He murmured in your ear. 

“G-Good. Little faster, maybe?” He eagerly complied, sending euphoric surges through your body. “Perfect. Oh my god, oh my fucking god, yes!”

The exclamation came out louder than you intended, sending Eddie into peals of laughter. “Sshh,” he managed, slowing his pace slightly. “We don’t want them waking up.”

Now that would be a conversation for the ages. How could you possibly explain to your friends why Eddie was two fingers deep inside of you? Sure, you all had been studying for the science final, but it wasn’t an anatomy class. It was awkward enough when you struggled to concentrate during Nancy’s rapid-fire quizzing. And then Robin had to repeat what she’d read from her notes because you kept staring at Eddie’s tongue poking between his lips. 

You clamped your lips shut now, focusing your energy on your trembling legs. He just knew how to touch you, how to make you feel good, after months of sneaking around. His fingers learned your body like they had once learned to play the guitar. 

And damn, if you two didn’t make some beautiful music together.

“Eddie.” You tried to tell him how close you were, that he was bringing you to the edge, but there was only one word you could utter. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…”

“That’s my girl. Let go for me.” His voice was husky, gaze meeting yours. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful when you come for me.”

You clenched around his fingers, chanting his name as quietly as you could. His pet name for you reverberated through your mind. My girl. You were Eddie’s girl, and every part of you ached for the world to know.

“Baby, can I…” Eddie’s breath tickled your neck as he gingerly withdrew his fingers and palmed the bulge straining against his pajama pants. As soon as you nodded, he loosened the drawstring and pulled his cock free. “Sh-Shit, fuckin’...” He trailed off as he stroked himself, using your arousal as a makeshift lubricant. 

The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, your body welcoming him without resistance. A whine escaped your throat; this time, Eddie didn’t even attempt to quiet you.

His fingers gripped your hips to keep you in place, your own nails digging into his back with enough force to leave crescent-shaped indents through his t-shirt and into his skin. Each thrust had you holding him tighter as he grew harder still inside you. 

“Goddamn, you feel perfect.” Sweat matted Eddie’s curls to his face, and you pushed the strands out of his eyes and tucked them behind his ear. “Thanks, baby.” He kissed you, a token of his appreciation and his desire. 

Everything melted when his lips were on yours. They always did; it was as though the rest of the world faded away. The stress of final exams, the whirlwind of events between prom and graduation and college, the weighty expectations on your shoulders…they evaporated when Eddie kissed you. 

Eddie kept his nose to yours, sneaking kisses whenever he caught his breath. “Can never get close enough to you, I fuckin’ swear.” Each snap of his hips brought you both hurtling towards climax, and you could tell that Eddie was trying to hold out so you’d finish first. 

“I wanna come with you.” Your fingers weaved through his hair as you pulled yourself closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t hold back, okay? I want you.”

He nodded, his kisses sloppier and only halfway on your lips as his orgasm neared. “Say that again for me?”

The slight tremor in his voice turned the command into a whine and weakened your minimal remaining resolve. “I want you. I want you so bad.”

“Yeah?” Eddie spoke through clenched teeth as he moved faster, harder, more determined. “Yeah, you want me? Or you need me?”

“Need you. Need you, I need you…oh my god, I need you!”

His mouth curved into a knowing smile, though you thought you spotted some relief behind it, too. As if he was glad that you wanted this as much as he did. How could you not? 

You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your breast. Eddie squeezed, feeling your nipple pebbling beneath your shirt.

“Fuck, I…I’m gonna…” He thrusted into you—hard—and spilled into you with a groan. “Oh my god…holy shit…”

Eddie’s chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his orgasm slowly releasing him from its alluring grasp. “Baby…” He looked at you, eyes widening in realization. “You didn’t get to come.”

“I did.”

“I’m not talking about earlier.” Eddie shook his head. “You didn’t get to come during, like, the actual sex.”

There was no use denying it; he knew all of your tells too well by now. “No,” you admitted. Dejection brought Eddie’s gaze from your eyes to the tile floor. “But it’s okay. Really.”

He shook his head again. “It’s not okay. I wanna make you feel good, y’know? You’re my girl.”

There was that name again, accompanied by butterflies in your stomach. “Guess that just means you owe me an extra orgasm next time.”

“Well, ‘next time’ better not be in my bathroom!” Robin’s disgusted voice rang through the door. “I swear, if there’s an ass print—or worse—on the counter…”

“Looks like they know now.” Eddie smiled as he kissed you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “You ready for the interrogation of a lifetime?”

You laughed as he helped you down from the counter. “We should probably wipe off my ass print, first.”

“Very true. Your ass and its prints are for my eyes only, baby.”

--

[girlsworldillusion]

CLAIM - by Aemond Targaryen

+18 (seriously, no minors)

author's note: my first time writing for him, even though I've been in the fandom for a while now. (I hope this isn't the only one).

There you go, Aemond thinks with some bitterness.

Bright, innocent, pure. Tempting in annoying ways. Certainly a cute little thing to look at, though.

Unfortunately, he's not the only one who noticed this.

A warm, tingly ball curls in his stomach the more he watches you and your pathetic excuse for a partner during the waltz. Every delicate twirl you make around the grand ballroom sends shivers down his spine. The flushed dust high on your cheeks leaves his throat dry. The gentle smile you offer the Lord who smugly leads you through the dance makes his fist clench so tightly around the wine glass that Aemond is actually surprised he hasn't shattered the thing into a thousand pieces yet.

Aemond is not jealous, however. Aemond doesn't get jealous - being jealous is wanting something someone else has, and he has everything he needs, a lot of enviable things, to be honest. (That's what he tells himself, sipping some wine and sending icy daggers toward the man who insists on holding your waist tighter and tighter).

He's not jealous. He just doesn't like it when others covet what's his - or what should be his.

You, another Lady with a prestigious name. Theoretically there were many like you, it's true. But to Aemond, you always stood out. Unique, special. It is a great inconvenience that others also think this way.

Aemond was trying to be a gentleman here. He was purposely going slow so as not to scare you; innocent walks in the garden, subtle conversations about a book you both recently read, an unassuming invitation for afternoon tea (although he doesn't even like tea).

He was already exhausting the limits of his own patience and he still didn't get any real sign that you reciprocated his interest in you. You are kind and lovely, of course. But that's how you are with everyone around you. This, in itself, is no guarantee of absolutely anything for him.

Aemond was trying to be patient. Gods, he really was. But with each passing day he found himself more and more tormented by thoughts and fantasies about you. His mind is playing tricks on him, pushing the limits of his self-control to the point where he feels like he might snap like a stretched rubber band.

And it is on these nights, when everyone in the Red Keep is already asleep and he is absolutely certain that he is finally alone with his own demons - that he gives in.

He closes the only eye he has left to keep from seeing the shamefully needy descent of his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, only for it to become a fleeting, innocuous thought a few seconds later, because there it is again; that all-encompassing, overwhelming feeling that makes him see stars every time.

He palms his straining erection wet with precum, imagining it's your tiny hand there - or your pretty mouth, your tight pussy. The mere thought of it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine and makes him part his lips in a husky sigh.

He thinks of you, over and over again; in hurried and repetitive steps, like someone lost in a maze.

Your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, your sweet voice begging for him...

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond-

Aemond writhes on the sheets, panting, shaking with it, his toes curled against the bed; his hips twitching with each wave of pleasure along his shaft trapped between his fingers. In the waves of euphoria, he throws his other arm over his eye, hides his sapphire and his personal decay like a secret, panting, getting close, so close, fuck, fuck...

It's sweet torture, after all. Spills out onto his own stomach and sheets instead of where he really wants to be.

But he can handle it. All to be a gentleman for you. All to endure the long, agonizing (and embarrassing) wait while you happily accept his invitations to teas and walks in the gardens and entertain him with your witty anecdotes about the latest book you read -

Although you never give him a concrete answer about your feelings for him.

He's trying to hold on.

But you need to pressure him, don't you?

He grits his teeth and narrows his gaze when the man waltzing with you leans down to say something close to your ear.

This isn't new to him, of course.

Aemond is used to having to fight to get what he wants. Nothing really comes easy for him. But there is something about the arduous trajectory of his personal achievements that no one is able to deny.

Once claimed, it's his forever.

That's it, enough of trying to be a gentleman - Aemond hums as he uses the rim of his wine glass to hide the wicked smile tugging at his lips.

.

"Oh, baby."

He is against you.

Pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass so you can feel how hard his cock is in his pants.

He's laughing in your ear.

Mocking.

"You like that, don't you, girl?" he asks, in a dark whisper after cornering you in one of the castle's corridors, blocking your walk to your chambers. He deposits words laced with malice and honey into his husky voice, whispered against the shell of your ear.

You shudder against him.

He's rubbing himself against you. His cock rubbing explicitly against the curve of your ass, while his fingers squeeze your throat, pulling the back of your head to his shoulder.

"You're mine," he says, his voice full of possessiveness. Like he was on the verge of losing it. He already lost.

You cry out softly, feeling him squeeze your throat again. Harder this time.

"Nobody touches you from now on. Got it?"

He's nuzzling into your hair. Lost in the tickle of your strands on his face, in your sweet smell in his nose.

You shake your head somehow even with his firm grip on your throat and he laughs against your hair.

A low, harsh laugh, a wicked sound that rumbles straight from his throat as he leans down to leave a single kiss on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours to give a light tug.

"Good girl."

.

You open your mouth to say something, anything - an apology, a well-rehearsed argument, words too soft and genuine to compete with the sound of Aemond's hips slamming violently between your thighs - but all all you can do is a low, breathless meow.

"You smell like him," Aemond huffs coldly, though it's more of a breathy grunt.

Maybe there is a certain amount of exaggeration in his words, you don't smell like him. Not really. But the simple memory of that man's hands on your waist and his face close to yours to whisper anything was awakening a dangerous euphoria in Aemond's veins.

He tries hard to at least pretend to be easy, to at least pretend to have some control over the situation. Struggling silently to remain composed, as if he wasn't finally fucking the woman he's wanted for a long time at a brutal pace, as if your scent and your tears weren't permanently staining his sheets right now, as if he wasn't squeaking his teeth to keep from spilling too soon at the mere thought of having permanent physical proof that you were here - right in the bed where he sleeps every night. Aemond feigns an indifference and coldness that are not real.

But he's trying.

He is under the intense watch of your drunken, half-closed gaze, and tries hard not to embarrass himself any more than he already has. He struggles to breathe through his nose, trying not to blink too often; carefree, not a hair out of place. And, in the midst of his personal battle for dignity, he finds some amusement in how you seem to be going insane beneath him; as if you seams were being torn apart with each breath hissed through your teeth.

"I-it was just a dance..."

“He was desperate,” Aemond cuts you off, squeezing you so that your words turn into nothing more than a pathetic groan at the end of the sentence. His fingers dig into your throat, anchoring him as his hips work furiously against yours. His hair is falling to your shoulders and breasts, raising goose bumps on your skin with each thrust of his body against yours. “And that smell is really offending me, girl.”

“I-I, I’m so sorry-” you stutter, hands gripping his wrist as he resists the urge to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, exactly where everyone can see it tomorrow, “I told him I already had someone and -"

He barely hears your confession before he interrupts. Thick words spilling from his lips as the grip on your body doubles in intensity.

"He thought with that sticky smile that he could just have you? That he would be the one to take your purity? This is for me, he should know. You belong to me. Only for me - only for me." He shakes and sputters to the wild pleasure coursing through his veins, some of his self control slipping as he bows his head and bumps his forehead against your sweaty shoulder, panting heavily into your skin at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his cock like a lathe.

"Yeah - only for you", he distantly hears you moan above the roar in his ears, feels your little fingers tangle between the silver strands of his hair until you manage to give a sharp tug, right at the base of the back of his neck. He groans into your skin at the sensation.

The liquid heat building inside him is almost overflowing, so close that he can't stop his trembling hips from meeting yours with shallower thrusts. He's almost rubbing himself against you, over and over, frantically. “Aemond, p-please,” you murmur, cherry-colored tongue wetting your plump bottom lip. "I can't anymore, I can't - ngh, please-"

Aemond swallows the rest of your words with a punishing kiss, answering your broken plea by quickly grinding his hips, encouraging your orgasm to wash over you. He doesn't stop, not even when you go rigid, unable to kiss him back or do anything other than moan and cry into his mouth.

Aemond traces your lips with his tongue, nibbling them until they're soft, his own breathing becoming as frantic as the cock that's dragging without pause against your wet walls. When his orgasm washes over him, Aemond is already panting and moaning as if in pain as he rests his forehead against yours; an intense gaze observing yours, focused on every detail of your delicate features. Your hooded gaze, the wet trail of tears on your red cheeks and your uneven breathing. The purest adoration for him shining in your eyes like stars in the dark sky.

And he smiles then.

Because you are his now.

Duly claimed.

.

With a gentle touch on his elbow, Aemond returns to reality.

The apples of his cheeks are dyed a subtle (but noticeable) shade of red as his violet gaze scans the space in front of him, silently surprised to have been caught in the middle of his unholy reverie.

It's you.

A beautiful silk dress on soft skin. Hair tied in a slightly loose braid. So small compared to him. So beautiful. So...his.

"Prince Aemond, are you okay?"

He looks at you for a moment, debating between feigning disagreement to spare himself the humiliation of being caught or pushing you against the nearest wall.

In the end, he chooses to remain still, head raised proudly and face indifferent, although his violet gaze remains stubbornly tilted downwards, thirsty to maintain eye contact with you.

"Yes, I just got distracted," he says, voice deeper than he'd like it to sound.

You smile, sweet and soft and his heart quickens.

"That's great. Well, it's late and my feet are hurting after all the dancing." You close your eyes in an amused, relaxed expression, there's even a dimple forming in your cheek as the wide smile stretches your lips - and although the sight is enough to fill his chest with a bubbling sensation of pure warmth, a muscle Aemond's jaw jumps at the mere mention of your recent activities. "Have a good night, my Prince." You conclude when he offers no response to your comment, bowing with a respectful farewell before walking away.

He watches you leave the great hall with delicate steps, gentle smiles and nods directed at the people you meet on the way. The image of grace and innocence, without a doubt. At least until you turn your head towards him before walking out the hall doors.

The way your upper teeth sink into the plump flesh of your lower lip, your heavy eyelashes fluttering when you squint briefly, the flushed cheeks and swollen pupils aimed specifically at him...

It happens as quickly as it started. With a fluid movement you turn around again and walk through the hall doors, as if nothing had happened.

Aemond sighs; tired, irritated, burning with lust.

You keep playing with him.

The wine glass shakes and clinks loudly as he places it roughly on the table, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even care if anyone notices as he abruptly follows your steps, leaving the ballroom behind, with a hard gaze and dark features.

He would catch up to you.

And this time he'll make sure it's not just in a daydream-

He will claims you. Truly, indisputably.

[jsprnt]

your new boyfriend gets familiar with how your period affects your life

kenan yıldız x fem!reader

A/N: very important topic this one, based off real life experiences and research. please, if you are experiencing any of the heavy symptoms described, I urge you to seek professional medical attention/advice if you are able to!! based off of this request, thank you 💓

W/C: 1.928

red, it was absolutely everywhere when you woke up this morning.

on your sheets, the comforter, and, of course, a huge bloody stain on your favorite pajamas.

in your sleepy daze you thought you'd been murdered in your sleep, and your soul was looking at the aftermath of your bloody death.

though, with a sharp pain searing down your lower belly to your legs. you'd been notified of mother nature doing her periodic appearance in your life.

your period.

the word alone made you groan.

although at the end of the day, you were glad your body was healthy enough to actually have a period. there was a long list of reasons you of why dreaded shark week.

from expensive sanitary products, to the extra laundry you had to do, to the most inconvenient of all-

bloody cramps..

every time, you didn't fail to convince yourself a little devil was in your womb, poking at prodding at its walls.

it was only a matter of health issues, that made your cramps extra painful.

everyone close to you knew about it. you were lucky enough to have an environment that understood and helped you out when you desperately needed it.

though, you had recently started dating kenan, who knew absolutely nothing about the way your menstrual cycle worked.

of course, he wasn't an ignorant piece of trash. he knew the basics everyone should have been taught in biology class.

how a cycle works, and what happens in every different part of it.

he knew of the cramps that came with a period, but had never seen anything close to what you would experience every first day of your period. 

maybe, that's why you freeze up when you open your front door. peaking your head out, fully expecting the delivery driver to bring you the new shoes you had ordered earlier this week.

no, it most definitely isn't the delivery driver- it is your boyfriend. who had to show up at the most random time- without notifying you beforehand. while you stand behind the door in a bloody outfit like you'd just committed a sinister murder.

"hey, baby! I missed you.."

the words fly out of kenan's mouth. his dimples showing as he flashes you a giddy smile, before he comes barging in.

when he starts pushing the door open slowly. you back up, hiding behind the door.

a chuckle leaves his mouth, as he thinks you’re teasing him. so in return, he grabs the door handle, practically slamming it closed behind him as you make weary eye contact with him. leaving you standing there like you had a stick up your ass.

fuck, the cramps were killing you..

you watch kenan frown at your lack of enthusiasm. you're certain he'd just finished his morning run, as he's dressed in his sweatpants and a hoodie.

he looks so cuddly and soft. if it weren't for the bloody pants, and the painful storm in your lower belly, you would just cling onto him and never let go.

"uh- sweetheart? you okay?" he questions, stepping closer to you. his hands reach for you, his eyes raking up and down your morning face.

"I'm fine, just woke up!" you squeak, eyes widening as you hold your hand out to stop him from moving any closer.

having a period was the most normal thing on planet earth, but the bloody stains on you made you feel incredibly uncomfortable.

"I'm on my period- and there's blood everywhere. I thought you were the delivery guy, so I opened the door thinking it would be a quick package. but- you're here now, I guess.."

you blurt out the words in one deep breath, ending your sentence with a questioning tone.

looking up at kenan, you watch his brows go up in realization, the warmth in his eyes returning in a gentle understanding of your frenzied behavior.

"why didn't you say so, baby? I'm a grown man, don't have to tippy-toe around you being on your period with me.."

he says, reaching over to fix your bedhead a little, his eyes exuding worry and concern.

"I know- I know.." you say, waving him off.

"I guess, I'm just a little- shy about- all of the blood.." you swallow, clenching your thighs together.

you watch your boyfriend’s eyes dart down your pants. he does grimace a little when he notices the bloodstains.

"no need to be shy. I want you to be comfortable around me, our relationship is too important to me. I'd never want you to hide your pain or hurt.."

maybe it was the hormones, but the words sent a straight warmth to your heart. though, seems like you felt it in your womb with how much it was starting to cramp.

"are you well enough to take a shower?" he questions, frowning at the slight way you're clenching onto your lower belly.

you meet his brown eyes, nodding.

"yeah, just- give me a couple of minutes.."

he nods, before watching you wobble away with small steps.

kenan runs his hands through his brown hair when you're gone. sighing as he makes mental preparations on how to proceed further with the situation.

first, he decides to wash the outside germs off his hands. heading towards the kitchen sink, he washes his hands thoroughly before making his way to your bedroom.

he grimaces at the sight of the bloody mess on the bed. rushing to change the bedsheets for you.

the man was a football player, and with the bloody injuries they would get into, this was absolutely nothing crazy to him.

thanking his mom mentally for teaching him how to do laundry, he smiles when he gets the laundry machine to work.

he's done by the moment you come out of the shower, quickly having changed into the clothes he'd put on the bathroom counter.

"feeling better?" kenan questions, opening his arms to meet you in a comforting hug.

you sigh when you press your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"hurts so much.." you pout, barely able to contain yourself from screaming in pain.

a soft sound of worry leaves kenan's mouth, and he doesn't hesitate to pick you up and place you on your clean bed.

"you changed my bedding?" you question through a painful groan.

"mhm, I did. but, that doesn't matter right now. how much does it hurt on a scale of one to ten, baby?" he asks, hands running up and down your thigh, eyes focused on your face.

"like- seven right now. I just have horrible cramps every time, especially the first day. I've been to the doctor lots of times, but they just can't find a reason as to why it hurts so bad.."

tears start pooling at your lower lashline. both of helplessness and pain making you crumble right in front of your concerned boyfriend. your body goes rigid as cramps tingle down your back and upper thighs.

"I'm so sorry about that, baby. how can I help you? anything specific I can do?" kenan's voice is as soft as ever, his hand reaching to cup your cheek.

"nothing helps.." you begin to explain, sniffling.

"It's so bad- I faint almost every time. I took a painkiller already, and it's not helping..”

sweat starts appearing on your forehead, and pained groans start leaving your mouth. you bite your bottom lip to contain the noises, but your eyes water as you throw your head back.

"fuck, baby.." your boyfriend curses in helplessness. his hands reach down your belly, and he watches your nod in consent- before he rubs up and down your lower belly.

"it'll be okay, just breathe in and out, princess..”

he knows his words alone won't make the pain go away. but he's so desperate for the pain to stop, so he keeps trying to talk to you, soothe you with his words, and the hands rubbing up and down the places that hurt the most.

opening your eyes, you look at him with tears running down your face. with a shocking move, you grab onto his arm, digging your nails into his flesh.

"woah, baby.. hey-" noticing the change in your demeanor, he lets you squeeze and grip onto him as tight as possible.

"it hurts so much- I.." you pause as a wave of nausea and dizziness hits you. your head falling forward, as you take in a sharp breath.

that is his last straw.

he can't take seeing you in so much pain, that you're on the verge of fainting..

it breaks his heart into pieces. the very heart that started beating for only you the night he fell in love with you.

"enough. I can't watch you literally pass out from pain."

you don't even protest, knowing that this time, you really couldn't stand the pain anymore.

"we're going to the hospital now. I'd be a monster if I let you suffer any longer. give me a second.."

he pressed a reassuring and gentle kiss on your throat, before getting off your bed.

you squirm in pain on the bed, trying to regulate your breathing. the stabbing pain worsening by the second.

kenan quickly collects your phone, car keys, and necessary id card, before coming back and scooping you up from the couch.

you can feel your body tingle from pain, and you grab onto kenan's sleeve as another wave of cramps hit.

"hurts so much. make it stop, please.." you sniffle, begging for some relief, wanting to scream and cry- but even that took too much energy from you.

"I know, baby. I know, we're going to the hospital- it hurts a lot, but stay awake for me. hm? I'm going to get you some help, honey.."

you clench your teeth the entire drive to the hospital, sweating bullets as you scream out from pain on the hospital bed.

"it's okay, you're fine- I'm here. It's going to stop, just let the meds kick in, baby.."

kenan tries to say every comforting thing he can think of. his heart beating faster in the heat of the moment.

you look up at the iv hanging above your head. clenching your teeth together as you mentally pray for the liquid medication to work as fast as possible.

"did you see the doctor? didn't you want to dye your hair the same color?.."

a distraction could help, kenan thinks- so he blurts the words out before second-guessing himself.

your jaw clenches at the seemingly stupid question, but the off-topic conversation manages to distract you from your cramps for a few minutes- until your eyelids become incredibly heavy all of a sudden.

"I'm sleepy." you mumble, your grip on kenan's bigger, rougher hand loosening. the meds had kicked in faster than you thought, causing a wave of exhaustion to hit you.

"that's okay, sweetheart. take a little nap. I'll be right here when you wake up." kenan speaks, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he nods at you.

with an exhausted nod, and free from the aches and pains in your body- the last thing you can register is the adjustment of the blanket on your body. 

not to mention- the sweet kisses placed on the dried tears on your cheeks, before you drift off the sleep.

just like he promised, kenan is right there when you wake up, pain-free.

only, this time with a takeout bag of your favorite food.

oh, how he was the most loveable man on earth.

and he was all yours too...

[bayfuzzball7050]

My favourite jjba character(s) from each part bc I know it will be more appreciated here than in a Reddit thread

I’ll use this header from now on to yap

Phantom Blood: Speedwagon. Regardless if it’s a whole meme in the community, o genuinely think it’s very brave of him to follow along in an adventure where everyone has powers but he doesn’t. He just raw dog’s every supernatural event and tries his best to be useful. It’s a noble thing.

Battle Tendency: Definitely Caesar Zeppeli. A much more complex and interesting character than his predecessor (William Zeppeli, I mean). I loved his design, personality and charisma regardless if I couldn’t resonate at all with his backstory. I also really enjoyed his rivalry/friendship with Joseph. I’ve always loved the smart/snarky guy x himbo dynamic!

Stardust Crusaders: I love kakyoin with all my heart and soul and I will never shut up about it. I resonated deeply with him since I know personally what it is like to be alone. I like how Araki portrayed his loneliness in a ‘im different than everyone I know’ way where he couldn’t relate to people the way others that. That childhood monologue— god! It hit so, so close to home. I couldn’t help but cry when the scene came up. That is when I realized how much the crusaders mattered to him. A bunch of people ‘like him’ and it’s such a sacred feeling when you’ve been feeling ‘off’ all your life. I also like that he’s always giving little fun facts he’s a bit like yapdollar

Diamond Is Unbreakable: Okuyasu. No question needed. Unlike his brother, Okuyasu is a very kind soul that has never killed anyone (at least on screen) even when he has endured so much abuse from his brother and father alike, something that would ‘justify it’ if he did became an evil character. He stopped looking for a way to kill his father because he can see the good in people and ‘accept them for who they are’. I can’t help but feel a deep sympathy for him. He had taken what his brother had told him about being better off dead so personally to the point where his first question after being healed by Josuke was (paraphrasing bc I don’t remember well) was something like “why did you save me when it would’ve been easier to let me die?”. Josuke came just in time to make him realize how much he actually mattered so he could evolve into the little goofball we all know and love.

Golden Wind: Giorno. I think most people who call him a ‘boring’ or ‘plain’ character often seem to forget that, of course, Giorno will not be a charismatic, sociable, talkative, — joseph — kind of guy. He was severely emotionally and physically neglected in his childhood to the point where showing emotions became useless since he knew he’d be left shaking in his craddle. From this emotional neglect, he started looking up at a gangster as some sort of parental figure. Someone who showed him basic human decency. Later, we get to see his ingenuity in battle. But I think one of the reasons he was so clever in life or death situations was because he has been in a ‘fight or flight’ mode since a very young age. He isn’t even ‘bottling up’ his emotions, he had repressed them deeply inside his brain to survive.

Stone Ocean: The main three. But mainly Foo Fighters bc they’re so silly >_< and I can’t begin to imagine how marvellous it has to be to, one day, become a sentient being

Steel Ball Run: I can’t quite decide between Gyro and Johnny tbh. Johnny is a character who had been always pampered with his ‘rich life’ and was then shocked with the fact that once you’re not useful, or worse, become inconvenient for people, they stop caring about you. I often think about how bad his father was with him, not only rubbing Nicholas’ death all over his face rather often, the whole “God, you took the wrong son” page or just how he never went by to visit him when he had just gotten crippled. It was just plain cruel. Also when they followed Hot Pants to a church and Johnny had to relive some of his most traumatic life experiences again and still try to win. It was one of the best arcs in sbr imo.

Gyro, on another note, wasn’t a son of a wealthy family but had to carry the weight of generations and generations of knowledge on top of the family profession on his shoulders, having to execute a child. He’s also a silly goofball with his jokes that make little to no sense and him trying to explain the spin to johnny in life or death situations always has me cackling up ngl.

Jojolion: I haven’t started to read JOJOLION, but from what I’ve seen, Gappy seems to be a silly goofball who lacks direction and I love that in a man. Also that he’s a 2 x 1 combo, literally.

Jojolands: I haven’t read jojolands either, but good lord they sold me Dragona and Paco when I heard ‘transgender’ and ‘laburantes’. Plus everyone from the Jodio team also seems to be lacking direction and being a pinch silly

[ichasewaterfalls]

CAR OMORASHI.

By reading this, you verify that you are 18+ years old, and understand the content you’re about to read is considered NSFW and omorashi-linked, and therefore unsuitable to minors.

I tried to keep the heightening urge to pee in the back of my mind as we sped down the highway towards the mountains. We’d only been driving for an hour or so, and I didn’t want to inconvenience Jake just yet. I was sure that I had a good few more miles left in me before it escalated to emergency status. I’d turned down the initial toilet break before we left, confident in my holding ability and wanting to keep to our strict schedule in order to get to Jake’s parents house before Christmas Eve.

Dismissing the thought from my mind, I instead scrolled the plan I’d written for our trip. Itineraries for each day, special activities for us all, and even a family photoshoot for the entire group. I’d taken joy in planning every family reunion since Jake and I got married 4 years ago. Admittedly, I’d also taken control the 2 years we were engaged, and the 3 years of dating. So with 9 years of planning under my belt, I was confident I knew how to create the perfect festive bash.

That wasn’t the only thing under my belt. My bladder reminded me of its existence as Jake merged rapidly into the left-most lane, and I shivered randomly as a wave of urgency fell down my spine.

‘What the hell? You’re supposed to be in the right lan-‘

Before I told him off for his directional mishap, I looked up quickly to see the lane was blocked off, a massive spill of hay all over the road. Should’ve thought of this as a possibility, since we were just passing the thresholds between country farms and mountainous ranges. My bladder seemed to be passing a threshold too, between uncomfortable and urgent.

‘We’ll have to go the back way. It’ll be about 45 extra minutes added to the journey.’

I sighed with frustration, 45 minutes? Not only did it throw us off schedule, it meant longer for me to hold my increasingly aching bladder.

‘I’ll text your mom.’ I scoffed, quickly shooting the group chat a text to let them know we’d be a bit late. As I put my phone down again, I crossed my legs and placed my hands on my lap, preparing myself to have to place a hand or two between my legs to hold myself.

I must have been shaking without notice, but Jake obviously did. He always did.

‘You alright there? Need a bathroom break?’

‘N-no, I’m fine. I- Yes I need a bathroom break.’

‘I’m not sure where the closest facility is on this road. I don’t normally drive the backroads to mom’s. I’m sure we’ll figure it out babe.’

The drive continued, and so did my need for a bathroom. I now had one hand between my legs, and another hand scanning Google Maps, trying to find any relief stops near us. But of course, rural mountain roads aren’t the most reliable source of internet connection. I thought about asking Jake to stop so I could get out and go, but since everyone was diverted, like us, we had cars in front and behind us. And with narrow, slippery roads, there wasn’t enough space to stop and pull over, or safely get off the road. A sinking feeling set in. My sense of chivalry was no longer important to me, he was my husband after all.

‘Jake it’s getting worse, I need to find relief ASAP.’

‘I don’t know how to help babe, I’m trying.’

He was obviously noticing the severity of the situation, as he placed his foot on the gas, going up to the safest speed limit for these roads. I watched him stare at me anxiously as I shoved both hands inside my pants, trying to hold back the pee from escaping.

As the car climbed higher into the range, my need for a bathroom reached a breaking point, and the urgency in my voice became palpable. "Jake," I gasped, my face contorted with discomfort, "I really can't hold it much longer."

"I know, Clara," Jake signed, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of civilization or a restroom. "Just a little longer, okay? Let's try some deep breathing together."

He reached over, placing one hand on my shoulder to guide me through deep, calming breaths. "Inhale deeply...hold it for a moment...now exhale slowly," he coached, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising panic.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the seatbelt tightly. "It's not working, Jake," I whimpered, my voice trembling with desperation.

But as the minutes ticked by, my resolve wavered. I clutched the dashboard, my face flushed with embarrassment and defeat. "Jake," I whispered, tears forming in her eyes, "I can't...I'm so sorry."

Before Jake could respond, the inevitable happened. My efforts to hold it in proved futile, as the pee rushed out of me, soaking my jeans and the car seat beneath me.

For a moment, silence filled the car, save for my muffled sobs and Jake's stunned expression. The weight of the situation hung heavy between us.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," I managed to choke out, tears streaming down her face.

Jake took a deep breath, reaching over to comfort me. "It's okay sweetheart," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy and understanding. "Accidents happen. We'll figure this out together."

[narislvr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Ahhh, Thank you so much for requesting and of course! ♡ Valeria would definitely be the type to tease reader saying stuff along the lines of "told you they were, demonios," but would offer her support and comfort regardless because she simply loves you that much. This may be a tad bit rushed but I hope you enjoy! <3

── p.s : I accidentally deleted the original post I was gonna use to respond to the ask thus why it's posted like this-

req by: @cerise-on-top

Your hair was damp against Valeria’s stomach as she gently combed through it with her calloused fingers. Her touch was slow and tender, leaving on your scalp a lulling sensation as you continued your rant about your day's events.

“It was ten minutes, Vale! Ten!”

You look up momentarily from where your head was resting on her lap only to find her already looking down at you with a mocking, yet loving, grin on her lips. “That’s why you don’t leave children unattended, Linda. You of all people should know that,” She taunts, poking the tip of your nose with her free hand in amusement as your eyes narrowed at her actions. Of course, she knew you weren’t at fault, but she couldnt help the lighthearted laughter that rumbled through her as you swatted her finger from your face.

"I didn't leave them unattended, I simply let them play in their centers while I finished the screening tests for the last three kids.. I didn't think that they'd be able to drop the whole paint bottle tray on the floor the one second I'm not looking up!" You groan, hands coming up to rub at your temples as you recalled the memory.

-

With holiday break only being a week away, first semester screening tests were being done to make sure that the kids were learning the things necessary before the end of the year, and so far nothing had gone wrong. Usually while you performed these mini tests, you had your TA keep an eye on the kids in the room whilst you sat with your small group in one of the corner tables, but she was out sick and you still needed to get this last group done so you were responsible for keeping track of everything at once.

You definitely had this under control.

The kids were usually relatively calm and would tend to stay in their play area's while you were busy unless they needed help with anything but that was normal. And yeah, they could be a bit loud, but it was never anything so bad that you would have to turn your attention away from your task.

You definitely this under control. you had forgotten that they had had a sweet treat for snack time only a few moments prior.

Everything was going well, perfect even, until you heard the loud sound of heavy plastic hitting the floor and the yelps and giggles from the children in the corner of the room.

-

"Of course the first thing I did was make sure everyone was okay, but Vale, the paint was everywhere! Juan had paint all over his pants and shoes and thought I was mad so he ran away and left paint all over the rest of the floor. I told the kids to just leave it while I tried to make sure Juan knew I wasn't mad, but they decided they'd try and help clean it up and really only got more paint on themselves," You sighed, carefully switching your position from resting on her lap to laying against her side, head resting against her chest as she gently wrapped her arm around your waist.

There was a light grimace on her face as she thought about your story. She already wasn't fond of kids, thinking of them as nothing more than literal demons, inconveniences, leaving chaos with everything they touched, so the thought of running behind children covered in paint only served as further deterance from ever wanting kids. "No entiendo cómo le haces, I would've been fired the moment I heard the thing fall down. Probably way before then" She mumbles, earning a small laugh from you as you look up at her and send her a playful disaproving look. She only shakes her head, a hint of a grin on her lips as she raises a brow and meets your gaze, "Que te ries, eh? We both know I would've gone off on all of them. Apenas si tengo la paciencia to deal with grown ass men, imagine me with a group of 18 chamacos. You're doing God's work, Linda."

She presses a kiss against your temple, her fingers gently tapping a lazy rhythm against your stomach as you close your eyes and smile to yourself. You knew Valeria probably had a stressful day herself, it being noticeable due to the heavy bags beneath her eyes and the way she seemed want nothing less but to close her eyes and slip into some much needed slumber, but she still made time to listen to you. Your days were nothing compared to hers, and even if she wasn't the most outwardly affectionate with words, she still never failed to let you know she cared. That you were loved, heard.

"Maybe I should bring you with me to work next time my partner doesn't come in. Would definitely make my day easier" You murmur against her chest, a cheeky tone in your tired voice as you burry yourself closer to her. You hear her scoff and you chuckle once more, not having to raise your head to know there was a look of horror on her face at your suggestion.

"Ya mejor vete a dórmir, you're talking nonsense, chula," She exhales, feign annoyance in her voice as she rests her head over yours, holding you close.

"Was just a thought. You should consider it sometime."

A moment of silence.

"Vale?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"You're not gonna say it back?"

"You know I love you. More than anything. Even if you do still smell like paint."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ translations:

── Linda: "Pretty"

── No entiendo cómo le haces: "I don't know how you do it"

── Que te ries: "what are you laughing at?"

── Apenas si tengo la paciencia: "I barely have the patience"

── Chamacos: "Children"

── Ya mejor vete a dormir: "Go to sleep instead"

[birthing1020]

🤰2️⃣🚎👖⌛️?

Inconveniently your car has been broken down for the past week, so you had to resort taking the bus. You sigh as you step into the vehicle, your very protruded belly pushed out; just about everyone saw your belly before they saw you.

You waddle your way down the middle isle, wearing tight black pants and a fairly large shirt, but everyone knew you were about to pop - little did they know, it’s been several weeks past your due date and the hospital kept sending you home because nothing was happening - yet. You were on your way back to see if they could finally induce you.

You rub your bump with one hand, your other squeezing your knee as the bus was about to take off. You lean back against the window and close your eyes.

“Not much longer little ones.”

You deeply sigh and chuckle at a kick from your belly. At this point you hated being pregnant. It’s one thing with one baby, but twins?! This was torture even for someone who loved being pregnant, but you couldn’t wait to push those babies out.

As the bus was heading towards a red light, you feel a tight sensation in your belly; slight pain overtaken as your breathing hitches. Could it be? And possibly here?! These people don’t want to see that! You thought in your mind, but it was about time; two weeks overdue has just about killed you and you were ready to push when the opportunity presented itself.

You squeeze your eyes shut and squeeze your belly. “Oh —.” You let out a sharp breath and part your legs wider, the pants only restraining your legs. Uncomfortably, you rest more on your back and groan a little louder, breathing through the pains of each contraction.

Before you know it, liquid had soaked up your panties and seeped through on to the seat. You knew it was time, but the constricting pants seemed merely impossible to take off with how wet you were. “Oh, God. It’s time!” You moan out and feel the sudden urge to push, you hunch over in pain and rest your hand over the crotch of your pants. You push again, forcefully trying to pry open your legs with the fabric only restricting you. “I knew I should have worn a dress.”

Legs strained to one spot, you rest back on the window and pant, a bulge visible in your tight pants if you look hard enough. “Oh shit!” You moan out and push harder, the crowning head and rest of the body force it’s way into your panties, everyone around you could see what was going on, but of course nobody stepped up to help.

You pant and sigh with relief, only realizing you have one more baby to push out. You lay across the bus seat, legs spread to the maximum without tearing apart your pants. You keep a hand on the first bulge and groan through a new set of contractions, the pain that you once felt only coming back for the second time. You could feel the baby shifting his way through your birth canal as you push, your panties now stretched from your current child and the one on the way.

“Oh, God. He’s coming!” You push down several times through the contractions as the head crowns and you’re laying there. One baby in your panties, the other about to meet their sibling in these tight and restricting pants. You moan out and push again, the bumps in the road only making these contractions feel worse. “Oh!” You scream out and push your whole baby out, two bulges now resting on your thighs. The sounds of two babies crying fill the air around you as you lay still, trying to comprehend all of what just happened.

[babytarttdoodoo]

Jamie’s afraid of making a big deal out of being hurt after everything that happened in season 1 - he doesn’t want everyone to think he’s being a prick again. But then one day either in season 2 or 3 he actually is genuinely hurt badly (the reason is up to you) but doesn’t tell anyone and shows up to practice anyway. It’s bad enough that he collapses on the field and that’s when everyone finds out.

I could have made this so much easier on myself and literally just written the conversation at the end. As it is, I started hating this about a third of the way through.

I hope that's just hyper-criticism of my own work and that this is still an enjoyable request fill.

---

It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose.

A lack of sleep, a dark hallway, and a half-forgotten set of steps had all converged into a little tumble in the middle of the night. That was all.

A bruised side. A knock on the head. No big deal.

That’s what Jamie had told himself as he’d inspected the damage in the mirror. He would be fine. He could put his kit on at home and wear a beanie to cover up the dark smudge of skin at his temple.

No one would notice. No one needed to know. It would be fine. Hardly the first time he’d pushed through an injury to stay in the game, was it?

He didn’t need to miss training. He didn’t need to turn up at Nelson Road and tell Ted he couldn’t play. Just the thought of trying to do so sent a thrill of unease through Jamie that he wasn’t keen to examine too closely.

So he took some ibuprofen, slowly and stiffly got changed into his Richmond gear, and called a taxi to get himself to the training ground late enough that no one had time to question his appearance.

(Driving was out of the question. He could admit that.)

Roy all but sneered at him when he stumbled in - that wasn’t anything to write home about, though. He caught a few looks from the others and had to wave Dani off on their way out to the pitch but, otherwise, Jamie was able to keep his head down and not draw attention to himself.

Drills were awful. Just stretching out his legs had him biting his tongue against making any pained sounds. When they started lunging, the hot-sick pain in his side necessitated swallowing down bile.

Sprints weren’t the worst, though Isaac definitely noticed he wasn’t starting from a crouch as he normally would. Then Nate had them doing a coordination exercise, hopping sideways and throwing balls between each other.

Lifting his arms was bad enough. Then each hop jolted Jamie’s whole body and made his head throb.

He managed, somehow, but Jamie wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was being slow and clumsy. He was being useless. Fuck.

Panting, sweating, and trying not to throw up, he hovered at the back of the group and prayed no one called him out. No such luck. 

“You alright, mate?” Colin had sidled over while Ted called out their scrimmage teams. He was speaking quietly, which Jamie appreciated, but frowned at him with an unusual level of seriousness. Shit.

“Course I am.” Jamie forced himself to straighten up and smile. It felt wrong on his face. Too many teeth. “Just got a stitch. Didn’t drink enough.”

Colin looked doubtful, like he was about to question him further, but Jamie pushed forward to accept his yellow vest from Beard and positioned himself as far away from the Welshman as he could.

He was careful to stay in the formation they were practising, though. No sense in fucking up training for everyone more than he already had.

Roy hollered “WHISTLE!” from the side of the pitch and everyone lurched into action. Running around wasn’t so bad and Jamie soon lost himself in the game, following the movement of the ball and players with a preternatural instinct, ignoring any pain as the inconvenient distraction it was.

The few times the ball came his way, he took control of it as if by second nature, barely having to tell his feet what to do as he passed to Dani, then to Sam ten minutes later.

He was being a good teammate. He was playing like he was supposed to. And then he heard someone shout his name.

Jamie didn't need to look around to know that the ball would be sailing through the air towards him. He didn't need to deliberate about what to do. He would catch the ball on his chest and send it to Sam again before Richard could make it close enough to tackle. It was the only option to get it in the net.

He didn't need to think about it. He just did it.

And his sore, battered ribs only crossed his mind when he jumped up and twisted mid-air.

The yelp of pain was completely involuntary and Jamie would have been horrendously embarrassed by it if he hadn’t immediately crumpled into a heap on the pitch.

Something had grinded in his torso. It fucking hurt. It felt wrong.

He distantly registered the sound of an actual whistle over the rushing white noise in his ears as he lay gasping on the damp grass. A hand grasped his arm and Jamie realised Richard had skidded to his knees beside him, ball forgotten.

“Jamie? What’s wrong?” More hands were on him, trying to turn him over, but the slight pull sent another wave of sick pain through his side and he keened, curling up further to stave off the harm. “Merde, get the medics.”

“Colin’s already gone.” That was Isaac, a lot closer than he’d been less than five minutes ago, defending the box on the other end of the pitch. “He’ll need a stretcher if we can’t move him ourselves.”

“Fuck.” The notion of needing to be carried out of training brought Jamie back to himself. “I don’t need… Fuck it. I’m fine.”

“No, you are not.” Sam was standing over him as well, Jamie realised as he tried to force himself up to his knees at least. Most of the team were looming around, actually, and Ted broke through their little huddle right as a spike in pain brought up the vomit Jamie had been desperately holding back all morning.

“Hoo boy.” An American accent could really cut through the crowd, apparently, since Jamie had no problem hearing that low exclamation over twenty or so sounds of disgust.

Someone stopped him from pitching forward into his own sick and Jamie finally, limply, accepted help back upright onto his own shaky legs. Ted’s hands were one of the several pairs supporting him and Jamie could feel the humiliation and shame rising up in his gut like another bout of nausea.

“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled, even as he let Isaac put a secure arm around his waist. Sam tried to prop up his other side but Jamie shied away with an apologetic shake of the head. “Ribs. Don’t- Can’t lift me arm right now.”

He silently begged the younger player to understand, to not take it as yet another personal slight. Because Sam Obisanya was a much better person than Jamie would ever be, he only took a firm hold of Jamie’s elbow instead, face belying nothing but concern.

“Okay, folks, let’s give him some room.” Ted shooed gently at everyone not currently vital to keeping Jamie vertical. “You fellas got a good hold of him? We can get a stretcher out here, tout sweet.”

“Don’t want a fucking stretcher. I can walk.” Jamie bit out, choosing not to acknowledge how heavily he was still leaning on Isaac and Sam.

“Well, son, I’m not all too keen on taking your word for that right now.”

Ted’s tone didn’t change at all from the pleasant, practical way he’d just addressed the others. He didn’t raise his voice even a little. Jamie still felt the admonishment like a physical blow and hung his head with a wince.

“We’ve got him,” Sam spoke up. “Treatment room, right?”

They made an awkward threesome, hobbling off the pitch behind Ted and down the tunnel. Colin jogged out to meet them with a medic in tow and (surprise, surprise) Roy peeled off from the other coaches to join the entourage hustling Jamie towards the now-not-haunted medical suite.

Settled uncomfortably on the edge of the reclining bed, with a hovering audience whose eyes he couldn’t meet if he tried, Jamie numbly answered the medic’s questions about his pain level and location. He allowed her to gently remove his hat and examine the bruise underneath, went through the concussion tests without complaint, and was even honest about when he’d last eaten or drank anything.

When she pulled up his shirt, there was more than one sympathetic wince around the room. A quick look down confirmed that the bruise, though still quite small, had deepened in colour since he’d last poked at it and his skin looked oddly swollen around the area.

Even the barest methodical prodding with careful fingers made Jamie flinch and hiss through his teeth. The medic (Jennifer, Jamie vaguely recalled) hummed thoughtfully.

“Two are definitely broken. You’ll need to stay off the pitch for a few weeks, at least.”

The prognosis tightened Jamie’s throat like a hand was clamped around his neck. 

“Weeks? Nah, fuck that,” he choked out. “I were playing fine until I took the chest ball. I can still score.”

“Are you actually thick?” Roy demanded, loud and angry as per usual. There was something wild in his expression as he stepped closer to the bed. “How fucking stupid do you have to be to try and play with broken fucking ribs.”

“Fuck off, you won’t even coach me,” Jamie snarled at him, all attempts at mending bridges forgotten in the wake of pain and frustration. “Don’t act like it matters if I play hurt or not. I’ve done it plenty times before.”

“Alright, alright!” Ted cut in between them before Roy could retort with whatever words had conjured up that twisted, outraged look on his face. Nothing good, Jamie was sure.

“Roy, why don’t you take five, okay? In fact, let’s clear the room. Y’all got things to do, I’ll stick with Jamie while the good doc here gets him set up with what he needs.”

Even with Ted partially blocking his view, Jamie could see Roy was about to argue. Surprisingly, it was Isaac’s hand on his shoulder that seemed to take the wind out of his sails.

“Fuck! Fine!” He shrugged the hand off and pointed damningly at Jamie’s face. “But you’re not putting a toe out on the grass until I say so, you bloody fuckwit.”

With that, Roy stormed out of the room, sending the door bouncing off the wall with the force of his exit. Jamie’s teammates followed much more sedately, all with looks back over their shoulders and quiet murmurs Jamie couldn’t discern.

“Here.” He jumped slightly when maybe-Jennifer reappeared at his side with a bundle of items. “Drink this and take two paracetamol. Hold the ice pack to your side for twenty minutes. If the swelling hasn’t gone down, I’ll send you home with a few extras, okay?”

“Thank you kindly, doc,” Ted answered for him. “I’ll make sure he stays put for a bit.”

“Not a doctor,” she corrected mildly but gave Ted a smile and nod. “I’ll need you to sign an incident report and there’s some insurance paperwork to go through. I’ll go get the ball rolling on that and check in later.”

Jamie didn’t really like the way they were talking around him, rather than to him. He liked the idea of being alone with Ted after having caused a scene and an extra load of work for him even less. Still, he couldn’t think of any reason for the medic to stay and just watched her walk away, gently closing the door in her wake.

“You should probably do as she says,” Ted said softly after a moment of quiet, indicating the bottle of water and packet of tablets. “Doesn’t strike me as the ‘take it or leave it’ kind of advice. Rarely is, from those of the medical persuasion, even if they don’t have a fancy title.”

Moving like he was underwater, braced for the other shoe to drop, Jamie silently went through the motions of taking the painkillers. He tried not to move in any way that would agitate his injury but his hands were still shaking by the time he reached for the ice pack.

“Oh, here, let me…” Ted stepped in closer, his own hands outstretched, and Jamie flinched violently. The sudden jolt caused his abused ribs to make themselves known all over again and a small shout fell from his mouth unbidden.

“Alright, okay, no touching, got that memo, loud and clear,” Ted rambled on while Jamie waited for his vision to clear from the haze of pain. When it did, he noticed his coach frozen in place, hands still hovering in midair and significantly less threatening than moments before.

“Sorry,” he croaked, embarrassment and discomfort robbing his voice. “Didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“Now, hey, no. That one’s on me.” Ted glanced around and pulled up a chair to sit near Jamie’s knees. “How’s about you get that ice where it needs to be and you and I have a little heart-to-heart, that sound okay?”

Jamie nodded and gingerly wrapped the frozen pouch in the towel provided before applying it to his side. The relief was almost immediate and he felt his shoulders relax from the tense position he hadn’t even registered amongst everything else.

Ted clearly noticed too, since he smiled up at Jamie. There was still a furrow between his eyebrows, though.

“Ain’t it great when stuff helps the way it’s supposed to?” he started and Jamie tried not to let the dread of what was coming show on his face. “You know, when you’re sure that, in theory, something should do you good but you’re not quite bought into the reality yet? It’s a damn good feeling when the bet pays off.

“Course, sometimes it goes the other way. The thing that’s supposed to help you doesn’t do anything at all. Or, hell, it just makes everything worse…”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie blurted out again in a panic. “I weren’t trying to do that. I swear, I know I’m not supposed to mess up training or nothing. I… I…”

“Whoa, whoa, Jamie!” Ted’s smile had dropped clean off his face. “I think we’ve got some wires all muddled up here, somewhere. I’m not fishing for an apology. Matter of fact, I’m kind of wriggling on the end of the hook, myself.”

Jamie really, honestly tried to wrap his head around that one. He failed. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Ted told him firmly. “We all knew something wasn’t right with you out there today and let you play on through anyway. That’s no bueno. If you can’t rely on your coach to help you out when you need it, well, then, that’s not a sign of a very good coach, is it?”

Jamie stared at him, dumbfounded. “But… I didn’t tell you I were hurt.”

“There is that,” Ted agreed easily, nodding and settling back in his chair. “And I’d sure like to hear how you got knocked around so good in the whole twelve hours you were out of our sight. Any particular reason you didn’t share that with the class this morning?”

“I…” The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack to Jamie’s ribs started picking at the disposable paper sheet on the bed. “I fell. Down the stairs at me house. Last night. I. It didn’t hurt too bad, I thought.”

Ted hummed. “Well, you see? Accident like that, it ain’t anybody’s fault. And you felt okay after?”

The excuse hung there so temptingly that Jamie was almost inclined to think they were back to mind games. He could tell Ted that he’d been sore, but fine, up until he got out on the pitch. But that would be just another lie, wouldn’t it? And all lying had done for him today was drag more and more people into his shit.

So, instead of agreeing like he so desperately wanted to do, he shook his head slowly.

“No, no I weren’t okay.” He swallowed and looked down at his shoes, dangling just shy of the floor. “Couldn’t even drive myself in, could I? But I thought being here and acting normal was better than… better than saying I couldn’t train today. More important.”

“Oh. Now, that’s another thing to chalk up in the ‘no bueno’ category, I’m sorry to say.” Ted’s voice had softened again but Jamie couldn’t bring himself to look up. “Jamie, if you’re hurting, ever, practice or no, I’d really rather you say so. Nothing’s more important than that.”

“Team is,” Jamie objected quietly. “Being here is. I don’t got anywhere to get sent back to now, do I?”

That sullen admission hung in the air. Jamie heard Ted suck in a breath.

“Okay. Alright. Could you do me a favour and try to lift that handsome as all heck face of yours up, just a smidge? I’m getting the feeling eye contact is going to be real important here.”

With very few options of avoidance available to him, Jamie forced himself to meet Ted’s gaze. His expression bore a startling resemblance to Roy’s wild-eyed reaction before, which did nothing to set Jamie’s mind at ease.

“Jamie, when you turned up to practice last season and said you weren’t going to train, I assumed you were mad because I benched you. That sound about right?”

The player nodded, ready for the familiar prickle of shame that clawed through his chest at the memory.

“So you weren’t actually hurt? Or did I get that wrong?”

Jamie shook his head this time, then clarified: “Were being a prick.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Water under the bridge.” Ted scrubbed a hand over his face, looking relieved for some bizarre reason. “Can we agree, though, that there’s a difference between someone pretending to be hurt, for whatever reason, and someone actually being badly injured? That a middle ground we can settle on?”

“Yeah…” Jamie agreed cautiously.

“Outstanding.” Ted took a deep breath. “So, let’s just take a little hop, skip and jump from there to how things might’ve played out a little differently today than they did last year?”

“Oh.” Jamie blinked a few times, processing. Slotting that bit of logic into the missing gaps of the day. “You’re not angry at me for missing training?”

Ted’s face broke back into a genuine, if tired, smile. “No, sir, I am not angry at you for that. Or for any other reason, while we’re on the subject. I am… mighty disappointed that you didn’t feel like you could come to me, or even call when you took your little tumble. But I think maybe we can both agree to do a little better next time, how about that?”

He held out his hand for a shake - his left, in deference to Jamie’s occupied right. That small concession alone was enough for Jamie to wordlessly grasp Ted’s palm with his own in a firm hold.

“Alright. I’ll try.”

“I know, Jamie,” Ted assured him. “That’s all any of us can do.”

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone, it is another Wednesday (my dudes)! Thanks to the lovely @umbracirrus and @hircines-hunter for tagging me <3

Tagging: @theoneandonlysemla @dirty-bosmer @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark

@captain-of-silvenar @changelingsandothernonsense @lady-iizsil @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

This is going to be a long af post because I ran a poll trying to decide what to post, but I'm just gonna give y'all a bit of each because *gestures vaguely to the world* at least we have blorbos <3 First up is another bit from the family fic, then some smut under the cut from another wip that i will have done soon or i will end up on the news MDNI: PICK YOUR POISON BESTIES

“Happy to be free of the misery and dread of Winterhold?” He earns a playful punch before Ceri joins her boyfriend on a sofa.  

“You sound too much like Ata.”

“You say that now.” He reaches for something in his armour, a folded paper. “I’ve accepted an offer from a man in Skyrim, wants help going through some Nord tomb.” Walking over to his sister, he shows her the letter, distinctly pointing to the bottom. 

“May Talos guide you.” She laughs. “Oh, what would Ata say?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and besides, I do not get paid to care about religion. He could be Tiber Septim reborn for all I care. Might even be good actually, could charge him more.” 

“Well then, may Talos guide you Arthano. To Sovengarde!” He rapidly ruffles the top of her hair. 

“Shut up.” He laughs. 

It is a funny moment between them but Ralos can’t help but feel like he is missing something. He knew the worship of Talos had been a major point of contention between Altmer and Nords; particularly when the Thalmor were in operation. It seems their father would be especially concerned, no, upset, to learn of who his son was working for. But the way neither Arthano nor Ceri seemed to find it anything more than funny puzzled him. It can’t just be his Altmer beliefs…

The kisses are slow for a bit, enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually, Ondolemar’s lips find their way to her neck. The marks he leaves will no doubt be difficult to cover tomorrow, but that is the furthest thing from her mind as she grinds her hips into his. 

“I’m going to miss you.” She hums. 

“And what will you miss most?” Hands move down to her thighs, creeping their way underneath her nightgown. 

“Unfortunately, you have me in a compromising position, my love. I cannot answer fairly at the moment.” Her own hands remove themselves and glide down his bare chest. 

“Then don’t.” She pulls the nightgown overhead, tossing it across the bedroom. There’s no time for him to react before she is sliding down, knees resting on the hardwood as she looks up at him. Even in the low candlelight, she can see his expression has changed; a deeper hunger written on his face. Head resting on one thigh while her hand makes its way up the other, tracing the outline of his erection through the thin pants. 

“Well. now I certainly cannot.” He groans as she removes his cock, stroking the flesh itself now. 

“I’m still waiting for an answer, love.”  

“Oh course you are. You want to hear all about how I’m going to miss you like this. How much I enjoy seeing you on your knees for me.” His left hand runs through her hair, smoothing through it as her strokes quicken. “I’ll even miss how you torture me, memories of you like this flashing through my mind at the most inconvenient times. So much has changed except for your ability to distract me from work.” 

[nikolaiismysugardaddy]

I'm under your spell // Nikolai Gogol

pairings... Nikolai Gogol x Reader

contains...! fluff! gn!reader, knocked out reader

I apologize for any mistakes in advance - english is not my first language!

Extra: I was listening to Bring me the Horizon - Follow you when the idea popped up in my head. Take a listen to it, it's pretty nice. ♡

Hope you enjoy! xx

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed. The last memory you remembered was when you were in Sigma’s casino, playing poker with some drunk folks. You won the last round, and everyone around you lost all their money. And that’s all, you can’t recall a single motion after that. 

The moment you tried to sit up, you noticed that your clothes had been changed to some nice and cozy pajamas. Your head hurt so much, it felt like a hundred needles were stuck in your scalp. You turned to your left and noticed black and white striped pants placed atop your own clothes on a chair. 

That’s when another memory popped up in your mind: you went to the casino with Nikolai. He was the one who came up with this whole game-night idea. “Yeah, that’s right…” you hummed to yourself. “The only reason I agreed to this was because I wanted to confess to him…” You buried your blushing face in the blanket. In the very same moment, you felt something strange wrapped around your forehead. Bandages? You tapped the fabric carefully; now it was obvious that it was bandaged. 

“What the hell happened?” It was absolutely annoying, not remembering a single thing. A worn-out sigh left your mouth while you buried your face in the pillow. Your eyelids got heavier, and slowly, you fell asleep again. 

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

“No, no, she’s still asleep.” you heard someone talking not too far from you. “I told you, I can take care of her!.. What do you mean I can’t even take care of myself? Don’t joke around, I’m the clown to make puns like this, not you!” You yawned without a sound and rubbed your eyes but the other person in the room noticed it quickly. “Gotta hung up, Sigma.” He threw the phone on the pile of clothes. “My dear Y/N, how are you feeling?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was Nikolai. But… Why is he here? And where the hell am I by the way?

“I… I don’t know. My head hurts so much, but…” even talking felt inconvenient. “Hah, what happened?” 

A well-known goofy smile spread across his face. “Well! Quizz time, dove! Which version of the story is true?” He looked relieved that you were awake and hearing your voice put him in a better mood already. “Sigma’s version was something like, hmm, some customers were so jealous of you winning all the matches they accidentally dropped a bottle of wine on your head.” He mimicked Sigma the whole time, even distorted his voice to sound a bit like him. “The better version is mine, of course. Some customers got so mad at your impressive talent in poker that they wanted to destroy your knowledge as soon as possible and hit your pretty head with a bottle.” At the end of his monologue his face became distorted. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his cool again. “So!” He placed his gaze on you, forcing a foolish smile on again. “Which one do you believe is the truth?”

“I think it’s somewhere in between the two.” Your voice was still creaky but somehow you felt a little better since you knew he was here. He looked pretty much unsatisfied by your answer but it wasn’t the right time for him to persuade you why his version was the real one. “Um, could you tell me where am I?” You tried to sit up but the pain was unbearable and some solid whines left your mouth. Nikolai unconsciously placed his hand on your chest and pushed you lightly back in the bed. His whole upper body was above yours.

“Don’t!” His eyes widened from the worry. “You’re at my apartment…” he muttered lightly and retracted his hands. 

“S-so this means y-you changed m-my clothes?” your face turned cherry red from the thought that Nikolai may have seen you naked. 

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you in those wine soaked clothes.” He smiled self-confidently and didn’t even realized what his words meant to you until he noticed the embarrassed look on your face. His eyebrows frowned before he bursted out laughing. “My, my, you know I got my magical cloak for a reason, do ya?” He placed his palm on your blanketed thighs. “I didn’t see anything.” His eyes were as gentle as ever. “But I can mention that it’s pretty difficult to dress someone down and then back up blindly.” His giggles filled the room. 

You playfully pinched his thighs while a warm smile spread across your face. The discomfort you felt before just disappeared. You didn’t even notice that you fixed your gaze on his face, your eyes exploring every small detail. All of a sudden, Nikolai laid his head down on your legs while a huge, relieving sigh left his mouth. “I’m glad you’re better.” he hummed into the blanket.

Your face flushed again and you felt some comfort and safety wash over you. “You worried a-about me?” every word you said felt insecure. It wasn’t so frequent for Nikolai to worry for someone. Of course, he had human feelings, but he defended himself from these kinds of feelings. 

“Mhm.” He buried his face into the sheets, making you feel even more nervous. “Another quizz! Why do you think I took you to the casino yesterday?” His voice wasn’t as cheerful as before; it was more likely shy now. 

“I don’t know? You told me you wanted to have fun and mess a bit with Sigma, as usual…” You finally felt enough strength in you to sit up, pulling your legs out from under Nikolai’s head. Quickly, he slid up next to you, slightly pushing his body against yours. Your heart skipped a beat from the unexpected closure. His eyes were filled with excitement, but somehow bittersweet. 

He took down the card from his eye to get a better look at you. “Well, surprise! It was all made up! So… do ya wanna know? The real reason?” he leaned really close to your face, his breath brushing your cheeks as he spoke. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body. 

“I would like to.” you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. The tension between you two was palpable from the first time you met. Was he maybe feeling the same thing you were? 

“Excellent! Excellent!” He clapped his hands like a little child, but then his expression changed in the blink of an eye. He looked more serious than ever. “To tell you the truth… my head is haunting me nowadays, and I can’t really express this weird feeling, since I haven’t had something like this before.” There was a sense of vulnerability in his eyes. He held your hand gently in his. You made him feel like it was okay to let his guard down and trust someone else for once. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe when you’re away and it’s strange, ya know? I feel like you could drag me through hell and back, I wouldn’t mind at all, as long as I could hold your hand in mine. It’s crazy, ain’t it?” He laughed to himself. You looked into Nikolai’s eyes, and saw a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You were speechless, unsure how to answer to his sudden revelation. The man you were secretly in love with had just declared his own love for you. “What do you mean?” Your hands were sweating, and your heart was beating loudly in your ears. The way he looked at you made you weak to the core. 

“You really don’t get it?” He sighed, his gaze never missing yours. He squeezed your hands and gave you a light peck on your lips, causing your heart to race even faster.

“W-what?” You couldn’t decide at this point if you were awake or still dreaming. You were sure he would never confess his feelings to you. 

“I’m saying I’m under your spell, dove.” He tugged a strand of your hair behind your ears to get a clear look at you. “I think I could sacrifice my freedom if your arms were my cage.” He whispered to you with some bitterness in his voice. “It feels weird, ya know?”

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You leaned in and gave him a soft, tender kiss in response to his words. 

“Yes, I know.” You murmured to his lips, savoring his taste on yours. And then all the energy you had before left your body. Your head fell to his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your body and pulled you into his lap, worried. The atmosphere around you felt too comforting, you felt vulnerable in his arms. 

“Are you alright? Do you feel dizzy, angel? Oh my, my, should I call Sigma?” He was troubled by your well-being so much that he even forgot that you did not answer his confession properly. 

You took a deep breath and tried to regain your composure, but the sensation of his warm embrace made it difficult to focus. “No, no, Kolya, it’s okay. It’s just so relieving; I wanted to confess my feelings towards you yesterday too.” You lifted your head and looked directly in his eyes. It was written all over his face that he was surprised by your words, even though he already sensed it. You have never seen him blush like this before. He tightened his arms around you, and buried his face in the careen of your neck. 

“I’ll never let you go, my precious little dove.”

[greatbigbellies]

Okay but, closeted trans lady pregnant prompts... 👀

Alright, different angle, lets seeeeeee........

Tgirl gets pregnant, she's still in the closet with her job but like, that's not a big deal, she works from home! She's a software dev who is very independent and good at her job, so 99% of the time, she gets to sit at home, code through her shift, collect her paycheck, and mind her own business. And that suits her just fine. No coming out, no drama, she barely speaks to her coworkers outside of emails, and she has browser plugins to replace her deadname and old pronouns with her current name, so... from her perspective, it's like they already know? 38 weeks crawl by, and the combination of a sedentary job with a twin pregnancy and the accompanying cravings means she really blows up. Her belly is ALL out front, and she's a little squishier too. Her due date is soon, but no big deal, she has a year's worth of vacation PTO saved up, so she can covertly squeeze in pseudo-maternity leave and be fine. She's kind of liked the pregnant lady life. Sure, she had to order a couple of maternity dresses for doctors appointments, but otherwise she gets to sit at home with her belly out and just... exist peacefully. Granted, nearing her due date means she's at the apex of her growth, and she looks every bit as pregnant with twins as you can get, but the belly makes a good snack table! And she can "rubber duck" code with her unborn twins, so there's even a nice work benefit. Then the fateful day comes. She finishes this quarter's big project, and she goes to submit for all that sweet, sweet maternity vacation time... when her submission doesn't take. She gets an email 10 minutes later. "Hey, HR messed something up with remote PTO submission. Could you come into the office tomorrow? We'll process that request manually. Sorry for the inconvenience,"

The Egg-iest tgirl egg you've ever met gets knocked up. They don't think they're trans, but they've also not dabbled in feminine anything, and while the writing is on the wall for everyone else they know, THEY are going to be the last person to know they are trans. Their belly starts to fill out and swell, and their old wardrobe just... stops working. A friend of theirs who has kids offers one of her maternity dresses. "Just try it. At minimum, it's comfortable, and it'll keep you warm when december rolls around" she says. They begrudgingly accept. One night, frustrated with their mid-term tummy causing their pants to ride down and shirt to ride up, they put it on... and it takes a moment before they realize... wait a minute, this is really nice? They feel pretty, they look it too. The pregnancy glow suits them. A few weeks later, they paint their nails, a couple weeks later, they shave their legs (or try around that now officially third trimester belly)... they're gonna wait to try heels until after they give birth, their balance is bad enough as it is. One day near their due date, their friends are all around throwing them a baby shower, and they finally pull the trigger and come out. Everyone is of course super supportive and happy for her, but after the party each friend comes to her independently, saying something to the effect of "We love you, but we totally called it".

[rangerpippin]

Please, please listen to this: I know it's not hiking weather for most people right now, but this needs to become a fact that sinks down into the collective consciousness.

Take tick safety seriously. No, actually do it. Everyone. You, reading this. Do the stupid, over the top, annoying tick safety steps. Do them.

I am not an outdoorsy person. I never go out in the woods. I live in an area where Lyme disease carrying ticks are supposed to be rare.

I went on ONE—one casual, leisurely nature trail walk with my friends who had gone dozens of times. We were back in three hours. We had fun.

I got bit by a tick. It took the usual month or so for Lyme symptoms to develop, and when they did I had almost forgotten the tick bite.

I got lucky. I had access to a doctor, they took me seriously and did tests, the Lyme showed up on the tests, and they listened to me further and ordered a 4 week course of antibiotics instead of 10 days.

I still had to go through weeks of bone-deep, strength-sucking fatigue, joint pain, stiffness, and inflammation, a low grade fever. Horrible brain fog that killed my ability to focus and ended up derailing my hopes of graduating on time.

Because I got lucky and got treated so aggressively and so quickly, I haven't had any further symptoms after finishing treatment. As far as I know, I was cured. This is not something to take for granted.

So, so often, Lyme doesnt show up on tests. So often, doctors will only prescribe a short course of antibiotics, which has been shown in studies to have unacceptably high rates of failure to adequately treat Lyme disease. If it is left untreated or improperly treated past the initial acute phase, it becomes much, much more difficult to eradicate. So, so often, people are left to deal with the lingering issues of untreated or improperly treated Lyme disease. Left to never getting back to being 100% healthy again. Ever.

I know that pants tucked into socks are a sensory nightmare. I know that you have zero intention of wearing long sleeves on your summertime hike in bajillion degree weather. I know that you don't want to hear me tell you to find a bug repellent that is effective for ticks for your stupid three hour nature walk. I know your friends are wearing shorts and t-shirts, and that I'm paranoid, and that you don't live in a state where this is an issue.

I had a good friend laughingly tell me, while I was still suffering with active symptoms, that she would rather get Lyme disease than tuck her pants into her socks. This wasn't meant to be as incredibly insensitive as it was, but it wasn't the implied dismissal of my then current and ongoing suffering that made me remember that remark, that made it sting as much as it did.

It was the implied echo of screamed warnings from someone who didn't know better and learned the hard way, bouncing unheard off soundproof glass.

Take tick safety seriously. Do the stupid, paranoid, uncomfortable, inconvenient steps. Do them no matter how casual or leisurely or informal your activity taking you into tall grass and other tick-prone areas are.

Because each time you don't, you're spinning the wheel, and if it lands wrong, you're risking having to manage an often debilitating condition for the rest of your life.

[octuscle]

Hi Chronivac Support, I need some help, I'm a 23 year old Korean American and every time I try and get myself transformed writers first thought is to turn me into some big white guy in his 40s Could your app give me the transformation of my dreams? I want to be turned into a huge muscle freak but stay young and stay korean american. I'd love to grow bigger randomly at inconvenient times, like if im on a date with a guy my nice button up stretches and rips as I swell bigger. I want to sweat so bad everything I own stinks. I fantasise all the time about getting stuck in door ways, being so big I break furniture by sitting on it, sweating and stinking so bad people laugh at me for it. Please just make me a big gross muscle freak

Your wish is my command! And we start directly. During a business lunch. Your back becomes a good deal wider in one fell swoop. Your jacket tears open over your back. You struggle to get out of the jacket. The buttons above your chest are still holding.

You excuse yourself, get up and leave the restaurant. You need air. The first button of your shirt flies off. And the fabric rips over your swelling biceps. And a short time later, your pants give up the fight with your thighs.

It doesn't help, you have to buy something new to wear. At the fitness store across the street in the mall, you get compression shorts and a tank top. And return to your lunch. Your coworkers make a few funny remarks, but no one really seems surprised by your getup.

For the rest of the day, all you can think about is the gym. You drink one protein shake after another. And with every protein fart you feel like you've gained another kilo of muscle mass. And while all your colleagues are still diligently sitting at their screens at 5:00 p.m., you just can't take it anymore. You have to lift weights now. Now! And leave the office.

The next morning you work from your home office. Of course, you went to the gym as soon as you got up. You were sweating like a pig. But now you're showered. You even found a shirt that fits. But you have to wear your compression shorts with it. There were no shorts that fit over your massive thighs. It will do for video conferencing. The first conference is barely two minutes in when your fresh light-colored shirt gets dark stains. You're sweating even more than you did during the workout. After a short time, the shirt sticks to your upper body, soaking wet and stretched to bursting. You try to stay cool. But you hear your colleagues giggling. Now you just have to tense your chest muscles. You have to free yourself from this straitjacket. Your buttons bang like pistol bullets on your screen. And your nipples shine into the camera, freed from their prison. Your boss sends you a private message. Whether you are still in your right mind. You can't help but tear the shreds of your shirt from your sweaty torso. And you let your pecs dance in the camera. Your immediate suspension is already in your e-mail inbox.

You don't care, you can spend more time in the gym. It doesn't matter that you sweat and stink of sweat. You don't need to wear a shirt or a tank top. Everyone should see your sweaty upper body. As long as you need a new job, you can work in the gym as a janitor.

Chronivac Inc. supports its customers wherever possible. Also in the search for a new job. I think I have found something suitable. It doesn't give a shit if you sweat through your uniform. Your partner is a gym rat too and almost stinks more than you. Any crook who has to ride in the car with you is almost punished enough.

However, I can't guarantee that at some point even this uniform will suddenly become too tight…. Take care of yourself!

[stillness-in-green]

On Heteromorphs and Heteromorphobia (Arc XV - My Villain Academia)

(Skewing away from the wiki arc titles here, because come the eff on; everyone on god's green earth calls this My Villain Academia, not "The Meta Liberation Army Arc.")

At the request of a kind asker, I'm trying something different with footnotes this time; you'll find them at the end of the relevant bullet point, rather than at the bottom of the post. I've also flagged the numbers in purple, though I left the text itself the default color. I hope people find that a little easier to handle than having to scroll all the way to the bottom, have two tabs open, or wait until the end when they've forgotten the context.

Content Warning: Mentions of the KKK, as well as anti-Korean hate crimes/speech in Japan.

The My Villain Academia Arc (Chapters 218-240)

Chapter 218: 

Tsuyu’s weakness to cold is noted in-canon, rather than in a volume extra profile.   

All of the people featured specifically in the Detnerat commercial are heteromorphs—a four-armed woman, a walrus gent, and a little gelatinous boy.  Re-Destro pontificates about how people with these “newer types of bodies” struggled in the new era because they couldn’t find products that would meet their daily needs; mass production was not equipped—could never really be equipped—to handle the endless variety of body shapes and sizes that came about due to the Advent of the Extraordinary.  It recollects the mall scene back in Chapter 68—or, even further back, Ojiro’s character sheet and UA’s lack of varied desks—and calls the reader to consider, once again, the sorts of special needs that those with heteromorphic bodies might have, and how difficult it can be to meet those needs.    RD says that his company’s ability to rapidly customize and produce unique goods for every customer has made them #1 in their industry (lifestyle goods).  Assuming there’s at least some truth to the commercial shpiel—and the newscaster does at least call Detnerat “a big player”—it suggests that plenty of other companies are not so good at the rapid+customizable combination.  Of course, not all companies are trying to be all things to all people, but specialization costs money—as do speed and customization, really, and note that nowhere in the commercial is there a talking point about affordability!  So mainly what the commercial leaves me wondering is what degree of inconvenience is still felt by heteromorphs, especially those who are somewhat cash-strapped.    That strikes me as a particular hazard when it comes to child bullying.  Of course, Japanese schools have uniforms, but I wonder how available tailoring and alterations are for students with particular needs?  Is there a provided budget for that sort of thing?  Financial aid?  How much did Ojiro’s parents have to pay for him to have a full set of uniform pants with a hole for his tail in them?  How about Shouji getting all his uniform tops made sleeveless?  What arrangements had to be made for Shouto’s gym uniform to be fire retardant?    Even setting uniforms aside, there are also their social lives outside of school to consider.  Kids will absolutely notice when one of their number wears the same clothes all the time, or home-made clothes instead of name brand, or with obvious patchwork and repair.  As in real life, it’s at the intersections of more than one type of disadvantage—in this case, a heteromorphic body combined with a low-income family—that problems become more likely.

Here in 218, almost fifty chapters after the first mention of them, we finally get the proper introduction and explanation of the Meta Liberation Army.  Of course, they aren’t heteromorph-specific—the closest any of the named commander-types in RD’s inner circle get is Curious, with her bright blue skin and black sclera,[1] though certainly Re-Destro himself has drifted somewhat away from baseline compared to his ancestor.  Regardless, their foundational belief is the deregulation of quirks, stemming from a time when any deviation from the norm made meta-humans targets.  The compromise society reached—that quirks require a license to use—is restricting enough on those whose abilities are found with a baseline body, but, as I’ve brought up before, it makes life even more potentially fraught for heteromorphs.  That kind of thing is basically a pre-written excuse for heroes or police to stop and harass a heteromorph they don’t like the look of!  And while the evidence of that kind of bias has been pretty circumstantial thus far, it’s about to get way, way less so.    [1] Wacky hair colors being somewhat de rigueur in anime, we’ll give her a pass on the purple hair.

   Chapter 220: 

Here we finally hit the major leagues: the Creature Rejection Clan, or CRC.  The Japanese is igyou haiseki shugi shuudan, with igyou and shuudan being pretty straightforward—igyou is, of course, “heteromorph,” and shuudan is any sort of organized or self-identifying group of people, anything from a family unit to a business organization, even all the way up to a nation.  Haiseki shugi is the important bit, with shugi meaning “doctrine; principle” and haiseki meaning “rejection; expulsion; boycott; ostracism.”  Thus, “group whose doctrine is the rejection of heteromorphs.”[2]    Note that, in the Japanese, the word in the group’s name is heteromorph; they didn’t pick something more insulting or derogatory.  They didn’t really need to, since igyou is, as discussed back in the introduction to this piece, plenty derogatory all on its own.  So Caleb Cook went with a translation of igyou that would better get that derisiveness-in-the-context-of-a-hate-group across than his choice way back in Chapter 14.  Creature Rejection Clan is a fairly localized translation, but Cook was pretty frank in his Twitter thread on the chapter that he was thinking about the KKK when he made the decision.    And it’s not an unwarranted comparison!  Of course, I wouldn’t think to presume Horikoshi’s that up on the history of racism in the U.S., but combine the cod-religious trappings and the full robes and hoods with an explicit textual description of hate crimes, and it’s an extremely easy parallel to draw. [2] The Japanese also gives the abbreviation of CRC, with the databook eventually coming out and revealing that it really stands for the name they’ve chosen for themselves in English, the Curious Rejection Committee.

That established, it’s notable that Spinner, in describing them, says that they commit hate crimes against “people with heteromorphic quirks”—a nearly word-for-word translation of the Japanese igyou-gata no ningen.  This leaves aside the idea I’ve spent so much time talking about, that heteromorph discrimination is aimed broadly at those with heteromorphic bodies, and not only those with the more narrowly defined heteromorphic quirks.  Shortly, however, I’ll cover some evidence that Spinner is over-generalizing, or just misinformed.

In the meantime, take note of a few things the CRC guys[3] actually say here, starting with the fact that they call Spinner a lizard. Instantly, a word that was previously a snippy and dismissive little shrug in Dabi’s mouth takes on the weight and ugliness of a slur.    Further, they call the League of Villains “sins against nature”—or, in a more literal translation, “impure criminals.”  I provide the more literal translation there because it’s more specific.  My immediate question of the English translation would be whether the CRC judge the League as being sins against nature simply because of their criminality, or because of their association with Spinner, but the Japanese makes clear that there are two separate labels being flung there: the League are both criminals and impure.    This idea of impurity brings in a religious dimension to heteromorphobia, a dimension heightened by the line (dropped by the English translation) in which the CRC accuses the League of invading a sanctuary—in Shinto, shrines have to be kept pure.  The CRC calling their hideout a sanctuary, with the added context of, “They have a lizard with them.  How disgusting,” thus makes it pretty clear that the impurity is about Spinner’s presence, not just the League’s assorted crimes.  This spiritualistic justification for bigotry will later be made even more explicit in Shouji’s flashbacks.    [3] With skull masks right there on their hoods!  A real, “Are we the baddies?” moment, but given some of the other things we get on them later, it's possible the skulls are meant to contrast what e.g. Spinner or Koda’s skulls might look like: baseline human versus animalistic or “misshapen.” Credit to @codenamesazanka for connecting the dots on that!

Spinner also gives us here the line that I covered back in the terminology section at the beginning:

We’ll go with the official version this time.

So here we have the observation that the word absolutely everyone uses, the word that, as far as we know, academically defines an entire category of quirks, is an unpleasant, even rude word.  But what is the alternative?  We’re never given one.  Indeed, Spinner doesn’t suggest one; he says that the nice thing to do is “avoid” the word instead.  In other words, talk around it.  See again what I said at the start about all the difficulties baked into that prospect.

Later, we get the first drops of Spinner’s backstory, and hit again on the “lizard” thing, with the note that Spinner’s backwater, stuck-in-the-last-century hometown called him “the lizard freak.”  He grew up with it, grew accustomed to it, thought there was nothing he could do to change it—he might even have internalized it somewhat, though clearly by the time Chapter 160 rolled around he was ornery enough about it to complain.    It's perhaps also notable that Spinner knows who the CRC are.  Though we’ll later find out that their numbers have hugely diminished, he not only recognizes them, he’s not even surprised to see them—unlike many, Spinner knows the CRC never truly went away.  (Compare his lack of reaction to, for example, Shouji's unsuspecting classmates, who will later be shocked, just shocked, that this kind of ugliness still exists in their country.)    So just to state the obvious here, yes, the presence of active hate groups does irrevocably shift the lens on everything we’ve seen up to this point.  You can’t say calling a heteromorph an animal is harmless, a little insensitive at worst, maybe even meant as a cute nickname, when that same language is used by openly violent bigots.

The volume version gives us, at the end of the chapter, further notes on the CRC.  It’s full of relevant tidbits, so I’ll provide the text in its entirety:

Once superpowered society grew more stable and less chaotic, this group emerged, based around a lack of acceptance for those with body-altering quirks.  They started out with demonstrations and protests but eventually started committing violent hate crimes.  Most felt this was taking things too far, so the group saw a sharp decline in membership and a scattering of factions.  These days, one faction might only reject people with animal properties, while another focuses its hate on people with irregular heads.  These two, among others, have very few members left.  The faction that Tomura and the villains attacked was one that stood by the original group's fundamental tenets.

So what is there to gather from this?  Let’s break it down a point at a time.

“Once superpowered society grew more stable (...)”    If you’ve ever lived through a time of increasing acceptance for a marginalized group, particularly if that acceptance involves measures for legal protections being passed, you’ll recognize what this is.  Just to pick a few U.S. examples, the KKK didn’t exist until after the Civil War;[4] proactive federal bans on same-sex marriages didn’t start getting passed/proposed until individual U.S. states started legalizing them and civil unions.  When opposition to something is the norm, said opposition often doesn’t start organizing until they see that status quo being threatened; they weren’t organized before because they never imagined they’d need to be!  That’s what we see with the CRC: they didn’t formally declare themselves until it started looking like quirks—and especially non-baseline quirks—were going to find legal acceptance.    [4] Literally.  The last day of the war was May 26, 1865; the date the first Klan was founded was December 24 of the same year. Easily the most vile thing I learned in the process of writing this piece.   

“(…) based around a lack of acceptance for those with body-altering quirks.”   This is what I was referring to when I said Spinner's characterization of the CRC might be a little bit off: the CRC wasn’t founded because of a hatred for specifically heteromorphic quirks; they were founded because of a hatred for different bodies, a descriptor that could also apply to those with transformation-style quirks!  Those, too, are quirks that alter bodies, after all; it’s just possible for people to turn them off, which is not the case for those with heteromorphic quirks.  So Spinner was not quite on the mark before.    Further, note that the phrase “body-altering quirks” is used here—a phrase that’s similar in meaning and much less othering than igyou.  It doesn’t fully cover everything I use “heteromorphic” and “non-baseline” to cover, in that it’s still murky in situations like e.g. Cementoss’s, where his emitter quirk is entirely independent of his oddly shaped head, but it’s still a useful term!  Except for the small complication of where it isn’t found: anywhere in the actual story.  The fact that Horikoshi uses it in an author’s note, but it comes up nowhere in BNHA proper, puts it in an unclear place as far as in-universe alternatives go.  Has it just not come up because Horikoshi hasn’t thought to include it?  Or has it not come up because it’s not a phrase people in-universe use?

“They started out with demonstrations and protests but eventually started committing violent hate crimes.  Most felt this was taking things too far, so the group saw a sharp decline in membership and a scattering of factions.”    Confirmation here of what Spinner said about the CRC and hate crimes, but note what this doesn’t say: that the CRC was outlawed.  There are, I suspect, a couple of factors influencing that.   o Firstly, while Japan has legal methods to restrict undesirable organizations,[5] making it difficult for them to raise funds or engage in publicity, the country doesn’t actually de facto criminalize membership in such organizations.  That distinction is part of the legacy of violent crackdowns on labor groups and protest movements in the first half of the 20th century; people tend to get very loud about anything that whiffs of the government trying to give itself the power to get that heavy-handed again.    Assuming that the laws haven’t changed overmuch in HeroAca!Japan, then, I wouldn’t expect membership in the CRC to have been criminalized outright, but the volume extra doesn’t mention any kind of legal repercussions at all.  That, I think, may go more to my next point.    [5] The relevant laws are aimed mostly at terroristic groups or organized crime.      o Secondly, another thing Japan has very, very little of is hate crime legislation.  From my research, there are only two laws of any note: a federal law passed in 2016 and widely regarded as toothless thanks to it lacking any criminal provisions targeting offenders,[6] as well as a local ordinance passed in Kawasaki in 2019 that went as far as mandating fines against repeat offenders, among other measures.[7] [6] It required the government to start “implementing measures” to eliminate such speech/behaviors, as well as to “respond to requests for consultation” from victims, but did not directly mandate consequences for offenders. [7] I suspect from some of what I read that Osaka has picked up a similar ordinance, but I didn’t find anything detailing it specifically.  Osaka and Kawasaki are home to the largest and second-largest population of Koreans living in Japan. One major thing neither of these measures did, though—and something activists have been pressing for—is to establish standards for considering discriminatory motivations when issuing sentences against those who have committed violent crimes.  To pick an example that made the news last year, a man committed arson out of openly admitted hatred for the Koreans he targeted, but nowhere in the trial or discussion of his sentence did the prosecution ever bring up discrimination.[8]    [8] https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20220829/p2a/00m/0na/015000c    Also, it’s worth noting that both of these measures were aimed at ethnic discrimination—speech and behavior targeting people living in Japan while being themselves, or being children of, people of non-Japanese ethnicities.  They did not address discrimination based on e.g. religion or sexuality.    Folding both of those points together, the image we have of the CRC is of a violent hate group whose existence is regarded as perhaps distasteful and extremist, but not actually illegal.  Even what few laws Japan has now wouldn’t have applied to anti-heteromorph discrimination, because, while they may look wildly different from a prototypical Japanese person, heteromorphs still are Japanese, and therefore not protected by a law based solely around ethnic discrimination.    Incidentally, the ordinance in Kawasaki laid out a number of specific examples of the kind of behavior it was looking to address, and one of those examples was likening victims to something other than human.  I know why that was included in the context of anti-Korean sentiments,[9] but it certainly does shade e.g. Dabi calling Spinner a lizard more harshly to know that there’s legal precedent for categorizing such dehumanizing language as hate speech.    [9] An extremely common form of anti-Korean hate speech in Japan is to refer/allude to Koreans as cockroaches.

“These days, one faction might only reject people with animal properties, while another focuses its hate on people with irregular heads.”     This is a good echo of the sort of factionalization you see in organized religion, wherein the minutiae of tenets that seem similar to an outside eye are the topic of vicious, vehement inter-group debate. More to the point, however, it provides an excellent illustration of the senselessness of bigotry.  They can’t even keep their own discriminatory dogma straight!    Probably the second most common complaint about the story’s use of heteromorphobia—after calling it retconned-in bullshit that didn’t exist until Chapter 220—is that it’s illogical, that it makes no sense to judge people because they look a little different in a world where everyone is now a little different from the way we see the world.    And I wonder if the people who say that are listening to what they’re saying.  “Illogical bias that has no foundation in reality is unrealistic?”  What do these people think bigotry is?  Racism, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, religious discrimination, all the many different shades of queerphobia: all of these are built on foundations of fear and hate for people who are fundamentally still as human as anyone else, yet they all exist, and have existed, and will go on existing for quite some many years still.  Because irrational hatreds are, by definition, irrational.  Heteromorphic discrimination is the most realistic societal dynamic in the entire series! That little rant aside, I also want to highlight the first group in the excerpt above—people with animal properties.  Check any talk on the theme of, “So you can believe dragons but not black people in fantasy?” and you’ll run into the ways people are much more ready to suspend their disbelief for full-on fantasy than for something that, rightly or wrongly, pings them as incorrect, and it’s easy to imagine animal-associated heteromorphs running into a similar issue: it’s fine for people to just look weird, but looking like an animal, that’s bad and unnatural.  A heteromorph who just looks like nothing in particular other than “non-baseline” is not evoking the baggage of animal anthropomorphization and cultural animal symbolism that someone who looks like a bird, a lizard, a dog, an orca, etc. is.   

Chapter 223: 

Shigaraki refers to Gigantomachia as a gorilla.  It’s debatable how much this is of a piece with Dabi calling Spinner “Lizard”—Machia’s only actual animal quirk is Mole, not anything simian, nor is Machia particularly ape-like in anything other than his large size—but it does stand out to me that Spinner, who we know to have strong opinions about animal epithets, just refers to Machia by name or as “the big guy.”

Chapter 224: 

Mr. Compress calls Machia “our pet gorilla”; see note above.

Chapter 226: 

Curious introduces the idea of quirk counselling, telling us that its goal is to align people to a unified understanding of how the world and society work, but that it’s flawed in that it winds up emphasizing peoples’ differences instead.  The advisor at the hospital raid will include quirk counseling in his litany of grievances, so I’ll discuss its possible utilization against heteromorphs more there, but for now, recall that I talked previously about how quirk-based behavioral tics might vary from person to person by comparing Hound Dog with Sansa.  With that in mind, it’s not a big reach that some heteromorphs might run into similar problems with quirk counselling.   

There are a good number of what appear to be heteromorphs through the Curious fight; whatever the MLA’s core views on quirk supremacy, the organization self-evidently makes ample room for heteromorphs, even if, like e.g. the red panda guy in the crowd jumping Toga inside the noodle joint, they don’t seem to have any other stand-out powers beyond the fur and fangs.   

Chapter 229: 

Twice notes in his flashback that something about his eyes always rubbed people the wrong way, scared them.  We’ll eventually see this same thing with Tenko on the street—a totally normal-looking child, but the look on his face scares people away even more than the blood.  And I can’t help but think, “If even a totally baseline person’s eyes can creep people out, how much easier—and more extreme—is that reaction for the more out-there sort of heteromorph?”   

Gori makes the tiniest of cameos in Twice’s flashback, playing backup off to the side when we will, in current times, find him having worked his way up to the interrogation chair himself.   

Chapter 230: 

Geten brings us quirk supremacy via his understanding of the MLA’s goals.  It’s hard to say how accurate this is, since the MLA leadership is inconsistent on what exactly their vision of Liberation entails.  Whatever it is, it certainly doesn’t seem to dissuade the MLA’s own heteromorphs, though of course there’s a big difference between how e.g. Spinner or Ojiro versus Gang Orca or Mirko would fare in a societal quirk free-for-all.  Likewise, the MLA is a cult, so one can’t discount the likelihood of double-think in its members.   

Chapter 232:

Re-Destro talks about the state of the country in Destro’s infancy, a period in which metahumans suffered “constant abuse—blatant discrimination.”  Merely for speaking out that her child was just like everyone else—that his special power was just a quirk—Destro’s mother was killed by an anti-meta mob.  This gives us further evidence of the violence metahumans faced.  Of course, in that time, the hate wasn’t distinguishing between types of quirk, but with that being said, an emitter and a transformer can still hide the truth about themselves with far more ease than heteromorphs—recall All Might’s discussion about the early days of quirks back in Chapter 59, in which the panel showing four people with quirks contained only one baseline person.  It would be entirely unsurprising for an outsized number of the metahumans killed in those days to be heteromorphs.

Chapter 233: 

The confrontation between Trumpet and Spinner gives us Trumpet clucking about Spinner having a weak meta-ability—Gecko lets him cling to walls, and that’s about it.  It’s a striking contrast to someone like Mirko or Gang Orca, or even Tsuyu, all of whom have some combination of big power moves and a veritable fleet of sub-abilities.  We can see the way Hero Society prizes powerful, flexible quirks in this.  Having a strong quirk can help overcome the societal bias about heteromorphs, but if you’re stuck with a weak quirk and a weird face, you lack that metaphorical ticket out.[10]    [10] Incidentally, the fandom reflected some of that attitude as well.  There was a widespread assumption that Spinner’s quirk would be really useful or situationally powerful, otherwise why would Horikoshi have hidden it for as long as he did?  Then, after the reveal, there was a certain amount of complaining that Spinner was useless to the League, and why even bother with him?  Sometimes, life imitates art in some very unflattering ways.

Trumpet brings up that Spinner was a recluse, “mocked and pilloried,” and we see Spinner in his hikikomori days.  What we’ve gotten on Spinner up to this point suggests that the abuse he endured was mostly verbal, though one can imagine it was pretty rough when he was young enough to be the target of school bullies.  There’s a certain amount of temptation to minimize that in comparison to his response: most people who are bullied or targeted by discrimination don’t grow up to become terrorists.  But there was, we will eventually find, more visceral stuff going on—and parts of the country that were even worse than Spinner’s hometown.

Spinner spent most of his life trying to fit himself into the world around him; his strongest parallel in the League in this regard is Toga, as they were the two that held themselves back, let the world define what they were and how they should act, right up until they saw something that caused them to snap.[11]  Trumpet tries to do much the same to Spinner here (albeit probably less as an intentional psychological attack than Skeptic’s attempts on Twice), but Spinner, like Toga, is long past the point where he would swallow that abuse without fighting back.  When you tell someone they are something long enough, they eventually start to believe it—but if you aren’t careful, they’ll start to embrace it, at which point those weaponized words change hands.    [11] Shigaraki and Dabi, by contrast, pushed back harder, trying to get the world to accept them and never accepting it when their families (and particularly their fathers) told them to stop.  Twice was ejected without getting the chance to try to contort himself into a shape that fit the world, whereas Mr. Compress seems to have been raised to reject his society's accepted norms from the start.   

Chapter 234:

We see an image excerpted from Quirks and Us, a children’s book published by Curious’s outfit, that exhorts the reader not to judge people by their quirks.  It really, really begs the question, “If this is what’s being said in literature published to coax people towards anti-suppression radicalism, what on Earth is normal society saying?”    Regardless of that absolutely wild disparity, though, the fact that there are children’s books being published about quirk bias being wrong suggests that the world very much does have a problem with quirk bias.  Indeed, that much has been shown throughout the series, not merely in terms of anti-heteromorph bias, but also the bias against “villain quirks,” as well as the widespread idea that people with weak quirks—or no quirks at all—are weaker people overall, pitiable folk who lack the power to live their fullest lives or pursue their dreams unhindered.[12]    People on more than one of these axes of discrimination will, as in real life, be more likely to experience discrimination and violence. [12] Villains like All For One and Geten may say it more loudly, but it’s not only villains who believe it—perfectly good-hearted people like All Might and Midoriya Inko fall into that trap as well.   

Chapter 237: 

Nothing much to say about Shigaraki’s flashbacks save to note that, if people won’t stop to help a lost and bloodied (and baseline) child, they sure as hell won’t intervene in anti-heteromorph bullying.  Recall that Kirishima was accused of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong for trying!

-----

Thanks as ever for reading along, everyone! How was the new footnote format? Should I keep that up for lengthy meta going forward?

I was kind of expecting to be able to wrap this up (the main canon, at least) in one more post, but I underestimated the amount of writing I'd be doing for the first war arc. For next time, then, I'm looking to cover the Endeavor Agency, Paranormal Liberation War, and Dark Hero Villain Hunt arcs. See you all then!

[ryuichirou]

...How do you feel about indulging weird kink asks? Specifically... erm... snz... If you are open to indulging than... I would appreciate some snz related headcanons for the Twst cast. Ok, I am pressing the ask button before I can overthink this more and running to hide in embarrassment.

Hi, Anon!

As always, I’m taking my sweet ass time with replies, but I hope it doesn’t make you think anything bad about you having this kink and asking us about it... To tell you the truth, we haven’t even thought about it as a kink before your ask, but it really made us wonder, so I actually do have a list for you lol But of course we don’t know much about it, so it could possibly be not what you were looking forward to. Still, we did our best ✊

In general, I can’t say that we’ll 100% indulge in every single kink-related ask or prompt for hcs, but we definitely won’t judge, so feel free to ask!

Riddle – you know, I feel like whenever I start the list, I always say that Riddle wouldn’t have it, but this time? Riddle probably would. But he wouldn’t consider it a kink, it’s kind of... a weird thing that he used to do when he was all alone and had zero entertainment. It was an unusual sensation, so he would sometimes make himself sneeze. But he tries not to do it too much these days, for some reason, it started to feel weird at some point. Whenever he really has to sneeze though, he feels weirdly satisfied afterwards.

Ace – doesn’t care about sneezing himself, finds it kind of annoying, isn’t even aware of the kink, but he still finds Deuce’s sneezes kind of cute... he’ll mock him for sneezing all cutely of course, but still.

Deuce – he is innocent and doesn’t know about the kink... but he is someone who would instantly start looking at his own nose and thinking about trying it out the moment he learns about it. But then he would shake his head to make himself stop thinking about it. This is stupid... isn’t it?

Trey – doesn’t get the tingles when he himself sneezes, but whenever Riddle does, Trey’s pants suddenly get a bit tighter. He has no idea what to think about it. He’ll say “bless you” quietly while wondering what the hell that reaction was.

Cater – he doesn’t have this kink himself, but he knows there are people who are into it. Is it because of one boy from one of his previous schools? Maybe. Who knows.

Leona – he sneezes very funnily, like a cat that can’t stop sneezing. But it doesn’t happen very often. He doesn’t have the kink though, and probably gets kind of cranky after sneezing...

Ruggie – not into it, I think. Somehow Ruggie isn’t into anything. He wouldn’t mind tickling someone else’s nose though! And sneezing for money too... in fact, this sounds like the best way to make money.

Jack – he doesn’t like sneezing himself and is very loud about it, but somehow, similarly to Ace, he also finds Deuce’s sneezes cute. For some reason, the doggy part of his brain starts paying attention and getting kind of excited when he hears the sound...

Azul – like any other thing that Azul can’t control about himself, he hates sneezing and tries to avoid it as much as possible. The fact that the tweels (especially Jade) always make a big deal about him sneezing isn’t helping. He is probably the least possible from the entire cast to have this kink because of this...

Jade – he would be into causing someone to sneeze because it’s basically manipulating someone else’s body in an unpleasant and inconvenient way; I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bunch of instruments exactly for that purpose. Small feathers, brushes, all kinds of stuff... He doesn’t get to use them very often though. Unfortunately! He himself doesn’t sneeze very often and doesn’t really like it.

Floyd – he jumpscares everyone whenever he sneezes. It’s always out of nowhere and sounds obnoxious. Although there are times when he sounds unexpectedly cute, like the tiniest little sneeze ever. He doesn’t like sneezing though. But if he saw Jade’s toys, he would instantly get excited about causing someone to sneeze.

Kalim – another one who isn’t aware of the kink but finds Jamil’s sneezing cute, mostly because it’s unusual for him to see Jamil vulnerable + because he gets to say “bless you!” in a loud excited voice. He is way too innocent... he also sneezes kind of loudly sometimes, and Jamil scolds him for that.

Jamil – he fights his sneezes because sneezing is annoying, but it kind of backfires, because when he sneezes after holding it for hours it almost feels like his entire body just had a nice spasm... maybe he should let himself sneeze more often.

Vil – he also fights the urge to sneeze whenever he gets it, but it’s an old habit: he knows there are creeps who make video compilations of celebrities’ sneezes. If someone was to look up these videos, everything from Vil is pretty old. From back when he wasn’t aware and was just a little guy... (Neige has tons of sneezing videos btw, and his fans always comment on how adorably and politely he covers his cute little face when he is about to sneeze)

Rook – a man of every kink ever is obviously into this too, and as someone who doesn’t have any issue controlling his own sneezes, he does get tingles from making himself sneeze sometimes. The feather from his hat is perfect for this kind of teasing... but making someone else sneeze is something that Rook likes even better. Especially when it’s forcing a sneeze out of someone.

Epel – similarly to Riddle, he used to entertain himself, but unlike Riddle, he did it to procrastinate doing his homework. He also overdid it one time and was scared of doing it ever again after that. Epel is also very self-conscious about his sneezes: sometimes he sounds like a truck driver, sometimes he sounds like a cute little prince, and he hates the latter. He tries to sneeze like a man... he finds manly sneezes very pleasant to his ears in general, so he listens to others sometimes. Not intentionally...

Idia – he doesn’t like sneezing at all, whenever he does, he starts mumbling something about humanity being so advanced and still being slaves to sudden urges to sneeze. This is some bullshit, why should he stop whatever he was doing to sneeze? I guess he doesn’t have a kink, but if he was bullied and forced to sneeze, it would make him feel some kind of way...

Ortho – he can’t sneeze, but he really wants to, so he’ll ask Idia to make a gear that could sneeze... While this isn’t necessarily a kink, he is so excited about sneezing sometimes that it’s creepy. Idia thinks that people will 100% jerk off to Ortho’s cute sneezes, so he doesn’t want to give him this ability. But also, Ortho really likes it when Idia sneezes and has a big library of both audio and video files with niisan sneezes!

Lilia – he has two kinds of sneezes: cutesy fake little “achoo” and the Dad Sneeze. Whenever he forgets that he is supposed to be cute he does the “HWAACHOOY“ that wakes Silver up. Oh right we’re talking about kinks. He isn’t super into it, but he also enjoys causing others to sneeze... it’s like tickling for him, sometimes he starts with tickling but ends up making Silver sneeze a lot. He thinks Silver looks adorable with his eyes a little teary and sniffling his nose. I guess it means that he does have a kink huh

Silver – because of Lilia who had a phase when he used to tickle and make Silver sneeze a lot, Silver’s body reacts to sneezing in a very pleasant way. He also has very pretty sneezes... Everyone thinks so, but especially Sebek.

Sebek – he also sneezes very loudly and obnoxiously and doesn’t like doing that, but he noticed that there is something... odd about the way Silver sneezes. He tries not to think about it but whenever it happens, Sebek instantly gets alert and loses focus. Why?

Malleus – it’s like he never sneezes... well, he does, but super rarely, and not a lot of people get to see that. I can see him getting into this kink as something super intimate, vulnerable and somehow deliciously wrong. It’s just sneezing, Malleus...