#and more generally he likes to feel in control of things

[valentinedagger]

July knows she likes women, but she doesn't really register this as bisexuality because she has had more important things to worry about than "what do i call my violent lust for boobies" for her entire adolescence. i've talked a few times about how counterintuitively restrictive this feels for me; i'm writing a protagonist whose personality and motivations are heavily influenced by her all-consuming lust for every halfway-attractive woman she sees on the street, but she also doesn't directly acknowledge these feelings to herself for a significant portion of the text. she's in a conservative paramilitary high-control group where her position is contingent on monogamously dating the general's nephew, and this has been the case since she was an actual child! it has some pretty heavy ramifications on her ability to conceptualize things like "openly identifying as bisexual" and "having desires that aren't kicked over to the shadowiest corner of her mind the millisecond they surface."

Cas is in a similar boat; they very clearly have multiple levels of Gender happening, but being in a conservative paramilitary high-control group since middle school puts the kibosh on any sort of personal gender exploration. their gender, as far as they are concerned, is "soldier;" their social role is entirely removed from sexuality and gender roles as they play out among "normal people," and Cas's feelings about gender and sex are put firmly in the "not allowed to think about it because those things aren't for me, period" box. even the only exposure they have to real-life trans people is someone whose transition cleaves very neatly to the True Transsexual narrative and is explicitly allowed because it makes him a more valuable asset to the military family he's trapped in. it's only once they're removed entirely from that context and put in a group of weird anti-government transgender agitators that they're even given language and epistemic frameworks that could allow them to see beyond the male/female binary.

fortunately, the intermission year upends the status quo entirely for both protagonists, so i can talk about all of this now without being infuriatingly vague or whatever.

I dislike the inclusion of a lot of modern Queer Rep Terminology in spec fic (fantasy more than sci fi) on basically aesthetic grounds. But also on to be slightly more principled about it, I feel like forcing the writers to actually describe their characters' identities and sexualities without recourse to a labelled bucket they can just slap and say 'yknow, this!' would be very artistically fruitful.

[transformers-spike]

After the autobots eating puss hc I AM BEGGING for the Decepticons counterpart. Please please please pleaseeeeee I need my evil boys and girls eating pussy and eating it GOOD

Will be doing the cons I've seen until now in the show. So sorry Shockwave, you gotta wait this out.

Dreadwing is, to put it simply, horrible at eating out. Please don’t hold it against him, he wasn’t exactly out there back on Cybertron, and things got even worse when he was cooped up in his spaceship hunting down Autobots and Wreckers. Can he even remember when he last ate valve? Probably, Cybertronians have better memories than humans, but there’s no way he doesn’t cringe inside recalling the event. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s the furthest thing from a Casanova, the antithesis of a sex god. Show him some mercy and give him instructions, he’ll listen to them as best he can, you just wish he would go harder and stop holding back like you’re made of glass. To be fair, by Cybertronian standards you’re extremely fragile, but… you trust him enough not to kill you with his glossa. It’s all awkward licks without your input, staring down at your pussy like it’s a bomb he has to defuse, and it’s not very sexy when he’s analyzing your genitals instead of eating you out. He can treat you like a gentlebot as much as he wants, protectively cupping you in his servo while on his knees, bringing your little body to his intake and ex-venting against it, leaving shivers down your spine. But the second he gets to work it feels like you bought a vibrator on Temu and received a bootleg PS5 controller. Either you beat the circumstances and cum against his face, or you make no progress in the span of hours. Cut the guy some slack, he’s trying his best to please.

Skyquake has the opposite problem. No, sadly not in the sense that he can tongue fuck you until you see Primus and get a drawn out “Nice” from their God/Creator/Dad. Bad cunnilingus runs in the family. The issue is, he’s too rough. If it’s not the general glossa to clit action, it’s the way he’s holding you in his servos, digits wrapped too tightly around your itty bitty body, enough to make you wince. He will adjust his grip if asked, but don’t expect him to remember during the entire act. You offer a prayer to the fallen Cybertronians who had their anterior nods bitten off by a walking jet with no chill. Squirm too much and he’ll assume he’s doing a good job, beg him to stop and he’ll take it as encouragement to keep overstimulating you. Except it’s not overstimulation – oh no. He’s turning your pussy numb faster than you can say “I wish it was your brother”. He’s well-meaning, just too intense for your own good. You have to treat him like a rescue, lure him in with treats and train him to stop biting you at random intervals. If you manage, he’ll lower his aggression, if only a little bit, and he’ll try being more mindful of your reaction, shedding his one track mind for a night or two. There are complicated cases, then there’s Starscream who, like the drama queen he is, has to be number one in avoiding your genitals like the plague until he feels safe enough to give them a try. Ironic since he can shishkebab you with those giant claws, but dude needs to trust you enough if he’s going to stick his glossa between your folds. Worst thing is; he’s good. Not just good, but fantastic at eating out. Who fucking knows how many Cybertronians had their valves ruined at his servos, but you have to earn your keep, make it to the top of his most trusted list and reap your reward. He enjoys the act, leaning all casually against a wall with you in his servos, keeping your thighs apart with two sharp as steel digits; applying languid licks to your pussy until you’re shaking in his gentle grip. Buck into him, he encourages it, it feeds into his ego, and by Primus the more praise you slather onto your words the better he does. Give him any kind of appreciation and he’s clinging onto it like the holy grail. He gets off on pushing you to your limits, having you beg for more as he assures you in a silky voice that you will get your dues soon. Absolute 10/10, do recommend.

Soundwave does not possess a proper “mouth” by human standards, doubtful he even had one when he was forged. But he has a sort of… throat intake for lack of a better word which he uses to refuel. Fear not fellow robot-fuckers! He makes up for what he lacks in other ways, mainly making proper use of his tentacle-like cables, each possessing a number of thin wires. Under usual circumstances, he uses them to connect to machinery or, in case he needs an extra oomf during a brawl, lights his opponent the fuck up with one billion volts of pure ass-kicking electricity. Now, don’t worry, Soundwave isn’t planning on turning your pussy into a death row inmate. He’s got enough control over his own frame to avoid this worst case scenario, and he’s certainly not clumsy enough to accidentally fry your pussy like a thanksgiving turkey. Those wires feel way too good inside of you, dragging across your clit with ease and squirming between your folds like miniature tentacles. The whole ordeal is akin to a consensual hentai experience with no need to yamete kudasai him; he can gauge your reaction on his own. After all, as the Intelligence Officer, deciphering body language is a must.

If you're letting Airachnid eat you out, you have no survival instincts. I'm not saying you're an idiot, but you're widely overestimating her “kindness”. Let's all take a moment of silence for the fallen valves of innocent Cybertronians. If and only if she has the barest sliver of empathy, she's going to torture your pussy until you're a crying mess caught in her web, without turning you into her newest trophy once the deed is done. At least not a dead trophy, because once she gets her servos on your squishy little human body, you belong to her, a hypothetical deal with spider Satan in exchange for the best head of your life. She's cruel in every sense of the word, but her talent at pushing you to the brink of insanity leaves you willing to risk everything, including your genitals, in this one sided power dynamic. Bound in her web, she delights in ghosting her digits over your throat, pushing down just enough to remind you of your place in this bargain. She can end your precious organic life whenever she pleases, mixing fear with pleasure as she presses her lips to your pussy.

Breakdown is a special case, always has been. Among the vast majority of Decepticons, he doesn't aim to make you beg, nor to destroy your sense of self with his glossa. He's just… a guy, completely normal next to the others, and this, ironically enough, makes him stand out. He's good at what he does, not mind-blowing by any means, just average. He has practiced enough with valves and made his partners overload plenty of times. A pussy is small, sure, but he's had minicons before, you're in safe servos here; and he’s not rusty at it either, he's one of the very few Cybertronians on Earth who frags on the regular (in no small thanks to Knock Out). Contrary to what his status indicates, he's more than just the “smash your opponents into scrap” soldier. It feels nice to lower his inner walls around someone other than his partner. There’s a major difference between the self-assured intimidation he wants to exude and the softness he craves. As such, shows exceptional gentleness handling you, cupping you in his huge servos or, if you're a daredevil, holding your hips with two massive digits as you grind your pussy against his intake. 

“Cute,” he thinks as you hump his face like an overly territorial parakeet. You may be a little shit, but you’re his little shit that he pampers and pleasures until you mellow out and relax against his chassis.

Knock Out fucks. End of discussion. He FUCKS. He has fragged on Cybertron, he's fragging on the Nemesis, you cannot stop him. Am I exaggerating? Possibly, but Knock Out is a young Cybertronian with the libido of an unneutered bull, so of course he can eat pussy. Issue is, he's smug about it, teasing you with the tip of his glossa until you beg him to put in some actual effort. He draws out your pleading until you have tears in your eyes, then he grants you the orgasm you've been dying for. Have fun being handled like a particularly juice push pop candy, you must sacrifice your dignity for robot cunnilingus. Knock Out may want you to assume he's a natural at human pussy, but the truth is; he's been googling the topic nonstop like a horny 14 year old on his dad's computer. He actively wants you to believe it’s an effortless task, you have no idea how much time and effort he puts into researching the topic, all for your admiration. Now please, give it to him, especially after all this hard work. Just don’t mention how you glimpsed his internet history.

Calling Megatron intimidating would be an understatement. Sharp denta don’t mesh well with pussy, nor does an ex-gladiator current warlord with your squishy body. But he “begs” to differ. Head from this bitch is the equivalent of sticking your entire hand in the jaws of a rabid rottweiler; you can do nothing but pray he doesn’t bite down. You’re the dumb little fleshling who found itself in his grasp, and he’s not letting go anytime soon. Human pussy is infinitely more fragile than Cybertronian valve, and he makes sure to remind you by skimming his jagged denta over your thighs. You’re caged in his servo, arms squeezed at your sides as you let the tyrant savor you to the last drop, leering down at you with half-lidded optics. He looks like he’s about to bite a chunk out of your private bits, and the fear makes you taste all the sweeter. Unscrupulous as he is, he has no shame stroking his spike during the act, growling between your legs promises of what’s to come. If you’ve survived this long, Megatron values you to a self-indulgent degree. Keep back and let his glossa drag you to the highest highs and the lowest lows, it’s not like you can do anything between those claws. He treats you as he pleases, but what pleases him most is making you cry out and twist in his grasp from overstimulation alone. Humans are so terribly sensitive.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 11

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ ��𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

A bitter taste in your mouth and the pulsing in your head were cruel reminders of the hangover. You sat on the bed, holding your slightly warm forehead as the room spun gently, flashing disjointed glimpses of the previous night in your mind. All you could recall was asking to stay home alone after having a few drinks with your friends.

A groan escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the grotesque mess of your room—of your house in general. An absurd urge rose to deal with the unpacked boxes still holding your belongings and the suitcases stuffed with clothes.

There was no point in keeping those bags packed as if everything could return to how it was with the snap of a finger. You needed to accept that this was your new life, and there was no use fighting it.

After stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and a toothbrush clinging to the side of your lips, you searched for clothes amid the piles on the floor. Tossing skirts, dresses, pants, and socks into the air, you paused when your fingers brushed against a T-shirt at the bottom of a box. Closing your eyes, you caught its scent—it hadn’t changed. Slipping it on felt like being wrapped in his arms again, if only for a moment.

A few items later, you found a locked wooden box. Glancing around, you spotted pliers among your nail accessories and pressed the tip against the padlock until it popped open. Inside were hundreds of printed photographs—every single one of just the two of you.

It had been so long since you smiled like that. If you didn’t know every detail of his face by heart, you might have thought those weren’t even the two of you in the pictures.

Old napkins with autographs scrawled on them—every one you’d signed for him after bar performances. He’d kept them all. Your fingers traced the messy handwriting you used to have, and a silly smile graced your face.

“So this is what you’ve been wanting back,” you muttered to yourself before putting everything back in the box. “Should’ve burned this crap when I had the chance.”

You had thought that burying the box deep beneath your clothes would also bury the memories that came with it. Ever since he turned his back on you without even hearing what you had to say the night before, you’d tried to think about anything but him.

"Alright, Noah. You did the right thing not listening to me," you grumbled, heading to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste, rinse your mouth, and stare at your reflection in the mirror. “I do everything better on my own anyway.”

Gerard was still a weight in your life, a burden you wanted to cut loose as quickly as possible. But to do that, you needed to act, no matter the cost. Bad Omens had no shadow of new material for the album, which meant more time with him hovering over everyone.

That had to change.

Barefoot, feeling the cold floor beneath you, you walked down the hallway, fingers sliding along the banister, which echoed with that odd, creaky sound. You began pacing back and forth, pen in hand. A kind of anxious energy grew inside your chest, but ideas slipped away like sand through your fingers.

There was nothing. No melody, no line worth keeping. As if nothing inspired you anymore—unless you were high.

The thought was a spark. You knew what you needed to do.

The instant the first line disappeared beneath the swipe of a card, the world transformed. First came the heat, spreading through your body like a controlled wildfire. Then, space seemed to stretch, as though the walls were made of rubber, and your perception opened up like an infinite fan. The world was no longer the same.

Now you could see sounds.

The first sound came from the simple scratch of fingers against a metal surface, a tiny rhythm that echoed and vibrated in your head like thunder. That was all you needed. You sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling paper toward you. A melody began to take shape, hesitant at first, but soon you were sketching each note with precision.

With each new line of powder, the music gained another dimension. The beat in your head morphed into something visceral, something real. I watched you turn into it... The phrase seemed to emerge from somewhere deep inside, and you scrawled it with such force you nearly tore the paper.

Another line. Another phrase.

Every moment you returned from the haze, something new took form:

"This life was all it had to be Designed but not for you and me..."

The lyrics spilled out like a confession, something you might not even have known was there until that moment. Every chord you strummed on the guitar in your living room, every word you breathed out with your cigarette smoke, felt more intimate, more deranged. The riff grew intense, and you let yourself dance alone, fingers gliding over the strings.

The rhythm of the pen against the paper merged with the pounding of your heart and the sway of your hair as the melody gained its identity. It felt as though you were carving out a piece of yourself, tearing it from raw flesh to transform pain into music. The ending came like an explosion.

"The empty husk of a flawed design There is nothing else left inside Within the silence of this illusion Is there anything more than human?"

Slowly, you let go of the pen, leaning your head back, breathless, as sweat dripped down the back of your neck. At that moment, the front doorbell rang. You had a song. This time, a real song, not the trash you had presented at the label. You definitely had a song.

"Anything human..." Jolly seemed to toy with the words that named the song for a moment. You got excited as you gave a quick demonstration, and he looked thrilled with the idea from the start.

“What do you think?” you asked, nodding toward him as you removed the guitar from your lap. “There are some elements that could be interesting to add to the final result, like a slightly more electronic base. You know?”

“It’s a damn great song!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, raising his eyebrows, and your shoulders finally relaxed. “But I’m a little concerned about your creative process…” His eyes swept across the mess in the room before landing back on you. “Okay, we’re way behind on delivering the album, and we don’t have much…”

“We don’t have anything,” you interjected to correct him. “We have nothing yet, and Noah doesn’t seem too worried about it since all he ever does is criticize what I make.”

“But the problem is, every time you get hyped during a creative process, it messes with your head. And I’m no idiot, girl—I know your little tricks to keep yourself inspired. If having a quick album is going to cost me a band member, I’d rather stay at square one!” he warned, pointing his finger at you.

“I can handle it myself, okay? Now let’s get back to the music and the band!”

“It really is a good song.”

“I need you to tell Noah that it was your idea and that you wrote it alone.”

You barely finished the request before Jolly adjusted his posture on the sofa, looking confused.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you know that when he’s sulking about something, he manages to turn it into nothing more than a pile of garbage in his eyes. That’s what he’s been doing with me,” you explained, trying to suppress a smile. “If you say I wrote this song, he’ll definitely discard it, and we’ll be back at square one. And I doubt that, like me, you don’t have your own reasons for wanting this album to be finished already.”

He considered your words for a moment. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit you were right, knowing his friend as well as he did.

“Of course, I’m not going to let him discard a song like this, but even if I go along with your suggestion, I still think it’s a ridiculous idea,” Jolly said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the sheet of paper again to analyze your work. “Did your idea of talking to him not work?”

“He’d rather face the devil in his true form than see me in front of him, Jolly.” Propping yourself up on your hands, you stared at him with a pout. “Noah decided that I don’t exist, not even within the band’s boundaries. It’s like I’m really not there, and that’s fine.”

“Fine?” he asked, tearing his attention from the sheet again.

“I feel like the best thing he can do for himself is stay away from me. We can deal with it, right? But if he thinks I’m going to leave my band because of him and our personal issues just because he’s decided he can keep interfering in my life, he’s dead wrong.”

“You’re so stubborn I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you two were made for each other.”

“You’re wrong. Terribly wrong, Mr. Joakim!”

He clearly didn’t believe your words, judging by the ironic huff and eye roll he gave before returning his attention to the song’s lyrics on the paper.

The studio was enveloped in a comfortable dimness, with faint lights reflecting off the perfectly aligned instruments. The silence preceding rehearsal was almost ceremonial. Noah stood before the microphone, adjusting his headphones while the others exchanged glances, aligning themselves to start.

“Alright, let’s go.” His voice cut through the air with firmness, but there was something in the way he held the stand, in his eyes avoiding direct contact.

The first beat was like a held breath, the bass pulsing gently before the smooth guitar chords emerged, as if asking permission to exist. Noah tilted his head, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the music flow within him before he began to sing.

His voice was hoarse, laden with emotion, every word cutting through the silence like a blade. He held the notes with precision, but there was a controlled desperation, a longing that was impossible to ignore. The others instinctively adjusted, following his lead. The drums entered like a racing heartbeat, while the guitar intensified, driving the music to something more visceral, rawer.

“That was fucking good!” he said with what seemed like the shadow of a smile at the end of the song, giving Jolly a quick handshake. “You nailed it, but I didn’t know you had something in mind; we could’ve worked on it together.”

Jolly’s gaze darted between Noah and you, and after taking a deep breath, he simply shrugged. “I was just as surprised at how quickly this song landed in my lap.”

“With a few adjustments, we’ve hit the tone for the new album. It feels like it’s finally easier to know where we’re heading,” Noah declared, still with his back to you. You rolled your eyes at the sheer amount of obviousness he spouted. From this angle, it was amusing how flustered he got when he wasn’t the first to figure something out.

“I have another idea!” You raised your hand, waving it enthusiastically, the excitement coursing through you undeniable. You shifted your weight back and forth, catching everyone’s attention except his. “Each track’s intro could contain a coded message, like clues to the central story. Since you love being a trailblazer, I thought of using your voice, Noah. What do you think?”

From this distance, you could see his hand clenching the microphone tighter than necessary. He recognized that euphoric tone and the insatiable urge to provoke him—he knew you were high.

“I think it’s a good idea!” Ruffilo chimed in.

“Me too. Actually, I already have an idea for how it could start,” Jolly added, pulling the same thoughtful face he always did when brainstorming.

“I’ve never heard a dumber idea in my entire life,” Noah said softly, placing the mic stand back in its spot, still refusing to look at you. “Don’t tell me you want to burden us with this melancholic nonsense like the last thing you produced?”

“I asked for your opinion on the idea, not your permission,” you retorted sarcastically.

Noah grunted as if hearing you was physically painful.

“You’re right—some projects shouldn’t see the light of day, like that song of yours. But I don’t get why you’re so offended when creating useless things has always been your specialty.” You shrugged, sitting atop the sound output box. “Just look at your desk drawer—how many songs has Bad Omens released, and how many were actually written by me, Jolly, or you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about!” he snapped. “You talk like you’ve done everything by yourself all these years!”

“Guys, I think that’s enough for today, right?” Folio chuckled awkwardly, jumping off the drum set as he noticed Noah tense up.

“The math doesn’t add up, Noah!” you mocked. “So, every time you refer to something I wrote, just open your drawer and count how many of your songs actually made it out of there.”

Silencing him in his moments of arrogance was one of your greatest talents, and nothing satisfied you more than that. “Honestly, Jolly’s voice would work much better for this intro idea. Who’s in favor?”

Your neck stretched as a triumphant smile spread across your face when everyone, except Noah, raised their hands immediately. He glanced at each of them, as if silently promising vengeance, and the sweetness of defeating him was palpable.

“Then it’s settled, folks!” you cheered, clapping your hands with a satisfied grin.

Gradually, your smile faded as he slowly turned around, his expression dark, especially around his eyes. His breathing came in measured scales, as if it was difficult for him, and as his eyes locked with yours, you stood up. You were ready to stand your ground if necessary, but there was no way he’d win this time.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

All the guys said simultaneously. “Man, I’m starving. Catch you later.”

They disappeared in the snap of a finger, leaving her alone with the very reincarnation of the devil in the form of a man. Noah approached with slow steps, and the wind deliberately brought his scent. Even at this reasonable distance, he seemed to emanate enough electricity to make the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Well, look who broke the little silence game.

“You’re pathetic.”

“That line is mine, hey!” you pointed out.

Another step, and Noah was too close, leaning his body down so they were at the same height. He braced one hand against the wall. You tried to step back, but the speaker right behind you limited your movement, forcing you to step to the side—nothing that stopped him from following you like a bloodhound. If he cultivated a good sense of hearing, he could probably hear how your heart was pounding against your chest from the proximity of your faces.

“Every time I’m talking to you, I want you to look at me,” he ordered, lifting my chin so that my gaze left his sculpted lips and locked onto his blazing eyes. “Congratulations.”

He said in a whisper that churned your stomach.

“I understand that liars have difficulty speaking while looking into someone’s eyes, but in time you’ll learn. Just like you’ve been learning to lie better and better.”

“Do you want me to thank you for the compliment?” you retorted in a biting tone as low as his and almost managed to crack the smirk on his rigid posture if he hadn’t corrected himself in time.

“They might all fall for this ridiculous talk of yours, but I know the song is yours.”

“So you admit you were praising a work done by me?” you asked, reducing the distance between you two. Your tongue moistened your lip as you heard him gasp from the short space between your bodies, and you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingle at the sensation of his eyes analyzing your face. “Still my number one fan, Noah Sebastian?”

He looked feverish, battling between gritting his teeth at your insolence and resisting being so close. Noah took another step forward, planting a single hand on your jaw, and your back collided with the wall, your hair scattering across it.

“Stop,” he growled without much confidence.

His closed eyes brushed the tip of his nose against yours as the compression of your bodies became stronger. You gasped as his leg pressed between yours and the pressure he applied to your jaw while dragging his face along yours was about to make your body explode.

Struggling against his hand and the alternating temperature of your body, you tilted your chin so that your lips came closer together. You could taste the flavor of his lips on yours, always soft and perfectly fitting as if they were made for this. Gently, the moment allowed you to brush against each other slowly, feeling the texture of his sculpted skin that seemed to remain the same after all this time.

But something pulled him out of the trance suddenly, and Noah grabbed your jaw again as he pulled you closer to deliver a message into your ear.

“Don’t seek me out with an intention like this again unless you’re capable of remembering what happened the next day,” he said in a rigid tone as he released you.

Your body cooled so quickly that you guessed you were a little stunned.

“And that shirt is mine. What happened to the story that you’d gotten rid of everything that belonged to me?”

You were furious. After the ecstasy, the excitement, and all the strange things that messed with you whenever you wore this crap, fury was the stage that seemed to linger the longest when it took over your body. Arms crossed, you watched him walk away as if nothing had happened. In fact, he was satisfied with having tied the score.

He had managed to humiliate you.

“Want it back?” you asked and saw him glance over his shoulder.

“Of course I do.”

Nodding and biting your lips, you uncrossed your arms, and without breaking eye contact in his direction, you grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it off completely. Luckily, you were wearing a matching lingerie set, and your sweet smile only deepened as you crumpled the piece and threw it against his wide-eyed face.

“Wait!” he called out, trying to follow as you strutted out of the studio. “Where do you think you’re going like that?”

“Home!” you replied as if it were obvious, shrugging as you stepped through the door.

Outside, the guys were eating, and their jaws dropped, along with slices of pizza from their mouths, as they saw you walking around in nothing but your underwear and boots.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!” Noah roared, trying to keep up. “Get back inside and put some clothes on, now!”

“Or?” you challenged him, the wind sweeping the strands of hair from your face as you walked backward and flipped him off when he didn’t move. “Like I said: You’re pathetic.”

“What are you laughing at?”

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline

[shycroissanti]

IRINA GONSHIRA🌌💙

✨️A "little" about her✨️

Answering @yaegxr 's ask💖

AAAA I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE HER!!🥹💖

Well, I don't have the complete story yet (because I'm not associating my OCs with Demon Slayer anymore exactly because now I'm focusing on a totally original story - but I can still write a little about this version of it), and also my blog is still a bit messy, but nothing stops me from writing now!!

Starting with the basic information!!

Name: Irina Gonshira

Age: 19 years old

Height: 1.70m

Birthday: August 23

Family:

Yuliya Gonshira - mother

Masato Gonshira - father

Liliya Gonshira - younger sister

Dmitry Gonshira - cousin

History:

Irina has always been a cheerful and determined girl. She comes from a rich and powerful family (Yuliya is one of the best demon hunters, and Masato is a very famous architect/engineer there)

Inspired mainly by her mother, since she was little, Irina had the dream of being like Yuliya, strong and able to protect everyone around her, so she starts training from a very young age, which irritated her father, who did not support her (and this generates conflicts throughout the story).

At a certain point, Irina meets Kishin, an orphan boy who was bullied by almost everyone in the orphanage where he lived, but the worst of all was Kenta, another orphan boy. Irina saves Kishin and soon the two become very attached to each other, creating a very strong friendship. And at the same time, creating a huge rivalry with Kenta.

Later, around the age of 15 to 17, Irina's life would become total chaos.

First, Yuliya had to leave for an extremely important mission, leaving her entire family behind. Since then, Irina has never heard from her mother again.

Soon, she suffered the comet incident (comic) , where a comet hit her in the middle of the forest while she was walking at night. She almost died, but the comet's energy kept her alive and changed everything in her body and mind. Irina feels more energetic and much more outgoing, even becoming much more impulsive and noisy. This energy is great for keeping her strong and ready for anything, but it is also very dangerous, because if she cannot control her feelings properly, Irina feels a strong burning sensation throughout her body, which hurts her a lot (in other words, she has "super powers" that help her and at the same time destroy her).

Another thing that happened is that her beloved friend, Kishin, turned into a demon (he had no other option, he became a demon against his will - comic ). Kishin knew that Irina's dream had always been to be a demon hunter, and now that he was one, he believed that she would hate him and that they could never be together again, so he tried to avoid her all day, because he didn't know what to do, he didn't want to end his beloved Irina's dreams.

While this was happening, at Irina's house, Masato was already tired of everything, having lost his wife (who in truth Masato didn't even care much about Yuliya at that point) and because Irina was a great disappointment to him. So Masato came up with a plan to get rid of Irina. He told her that she should leave and go on a supposed mission far away from there so that she could be part of the Sunlights (in this case, the Sunlights are like the Hashiras, but in the Sunlight Force universe). Irina believed her father without hesitation, so she left home soon after, and finally went looking for Kishin, because she couldn't leave him like that without telling him. Irina was already sad about everything that was happening, so she finally found Kishin, and her world fell apart completely.

Kishin was desperate. He tried to do everything, promise her that he would never do anything like the demons do, and he, heartbroken, said that he could leave and live in isolation if she wanted. At that point, Irina breaks down, her sense of reality was completely altered. She always heard Yuliya's stories about how all demons are evil and must be defeated, but seeing her beloved Kishin like that, she could never do something like that (and even more so because she noticed that Kishin was still the same guy she always loved), so Irina hugs him and promises that they will stay together, that it doesn't matter if he was a demon and she wanted to be a Sunlight, she dreamed of protecting those she loves, and she loves him, so the two stayed together and nothing would separate them.

So since Irina needed to go on the "mission" that Masato had told her and Kishin could no longer live there, the two left the city, and thus the various adventures that I have been writing about have happened.

Now some fun facts!

Irina's favorite food is tamago sando.

Irina is afraid of onions.

She loves collecting rocks.

She likes to cook, but she often burns all the pies she makes.

Sorry, I guess I got excited to write about her xD But still, you can always find more stuff about her with the tag #Irina Gonshira or check out my other blog @shycroissanti-comics , there are all the arts and comics I've ever made :D

Sorry if I wrote a lot of things wrong (〃ﾉωﾉ)

And please consider helping me by reblogging thisﾟ+.(*´pωq`)ﾟ+.💖💖

[siri-ike]

Empty. That's all he could feel for such a long time. Just a never-ending empty hollowness. It's not even a bad feeling, so to say. Not good, either. It's nothing. A little damp maybe, a sinking dampness.

Sometimes, he would float past things, sometimes through them, not really paying much attention. Sometimes, he would recognize someone, but every time, it got harder and harder to remember who, or from what. Were they family? Famous? Nothing. Eventually, he stopped trying. What's the point? He doesn't know them. Besides, he's probably halfway around the world by now. Or he could just be in the same place. Did he even start anywhere?

Maybe he had been doing this forever. Maybe he will be doing this forever. This is all there was, is, or ever will be. That's OK. At least it's consistent.

Or, at least

It was.

It felt like a jolt of electricity shot through his entire body at once. Body? He has one of those? So much noise, so many different sounds all competing for his attention. Lights from seemingly everywhere but the sky. No, wait, there are giant lights in the sky. Or being pointed at the sky? What kind of place is this?

He turns to face the city below him. The lights are even worse this way. He's so far above even the tallest skyscrapers, and the... are those blimps? All over a city? What is this world War 2? Confused, curious, uncomfortable. He hasn't felt anything like this, or really anything in general, for so long. If only he could get closer. And with that, a weight appeared inside him. His trajectory pointed ever so slightly downward. Excitement. At this rate, he could reach the buildings someday. No! He's been patient. He wants to go faster. As though motivated by his own will, his fall sped up. Can this be real? Forget the buildings. He could reach the ground before sunrise. As he floats closer, one of the zeppelins gets close enough to read. Police. Could this actually be World War 2? The architecture seems to fit. Even if it was, he'd take it. But he still doesn't want to wait. Now, he wants to be there now. It's as though he's being pulled down in a flash. He's below the blimps, just as quickly he's surrounded by reflections as half the buildings are covered in glass. The noise is no longer just construction and cars honking. He's close enough to hear voices yelling at each other and the lights, oh they are sickening. The ground gets closer and closer, with every fraction of a second he sees and hears something new. For a few wonderful seconds, he feels so alive. And then everything is black.

no. no,no,no. No! stop! please! pulling out from that speed sends him spinning out of control for just a moment. But a moment is enough. So far underground that he can't even tell which way is up. And a new feeling. what could this one be? Disappointment. If only he had been patient. What's a few days of falling to a, a... whatever he is... he shouldn't have wanted. He was asking too much, that must be it. Should have just been content with what he had. At least before he didn't hurt.

Hoping was a mistake. Just look where it got him.

How long has it been? Days? Hours? He'd thought before he had nothing but now. The lights aren't just dull. The sounds aren't just muffled. They are non-existent. He is non-existent.

And once more, he has accepted it. Every now and then, a faint pull here and there. Like something wants his attention, but he knows better now. It's not worth it. Better to just float. In the dark. Forever. He was a fool for believing there could be more.

It didn't take long for his circumstances to beat him down again. But it didn't take as long for them to change again either. As suddenly as before. A similar, but fainter jolt surged through him. He's had enough time now to understand what it is. Despair. Someone out there is experiencing despair the way he is. It's hardly the first time. All those other pulls and tugs. He knew what it was, but this one was different. This time, it's closer to his own suffering. And it's enough. "I want to get closer," he thinks. The pull gets stronger. Little by little, he's dragged through the darkness. He won't risk it this time. He lets it take forever. By the time he finally reaches the surface, the despair is long gone. The sunlight is blinding yet so thoroughly welcomed. If anything, the blinding sunlight was better than the crime scene he'd floated in on. Looks like murder. Two outlines on the ground. A man and a woman. Pearls scattered everywhere, too. could all that emotion have come from them? If it did, they certainly don't need help anymore. Ok, concentrate. "My feet can touch the ground," he thinks as he places his feet down, but they go straight through.

"I am tangible," he says outloud. But it still rains false.

"I can walk!" He shouts, catching the ear of a nearby cop.

"You hear something?" The officer says to another.

"Heh, first murder got ya spooked?" The other replies.

"Oh, I guess it could have just been the wind"

They perceived him? Or was that just a coincidence? The two officers pick up the last of their police tape and put it in their car. Hold on, the crime happened too recently to be cleaning it up. There's still wet blood on the ground. Their uniforms have the letters GCPD written on the back. PD always stands for police department. Why does he know that? This feels so vaguely familiar. Has he... met one before? No, that can't be. He's never met anyone. He's incorporeal, unknowable, beyond being. He has no history or future. Right? But why is he so drawn to follow them into their car? Forget walking. He can figure that out later.

Sitting in the back of a police vehicle also feels vaguely familiar. Or rather floating.

"Heh, guess I've never really been on the GZPD's good side."

"There it was again"

"You're just worked up, it's normal to struggle with mortality. How about we stop for a relaxing cup of tea on the way back to the station."

He deffinetly heard him. He's real. He's really real. Is it possible to be so happy you cry? If he could, that's definitely what would be happening right now.

The older officer turns the key. The car is loud and shakes a bit. It would be nice to be able to feel it. He closes his eyes in anticipation. This is all so new and exciting. The noise quiets down. It sounds further away. He opens his eyes to see the car driving off without him.

If he were a better student, he probably would have known he'd phaze right through. Never mind that. Just float in the direction they were going, it can't be that hard to follow a car going normal car speeds when you can only trust yourself to go average snail speed. And so he floats down the street.

Someone curses danny, and he loses all of his strength. He's stuck as the most basic of ghosts, invisible and intangible and floating endlessly.

With an obsession like protection, while being unable to contact anyone he knows and loves, it seems impossible for him to ever regain enough strength.

He spends most of his time sleeping, allowing himself to drift through the blurry world as his ecto slowly replenishes, but since his human half digests most of his progress to stay alive, he's not getting any energy at all.

That is, until he enters Gotham. He's pushed back to conciousness by the weight of all of its trapped emotions, and the complete turmoil the city had been cast into. (Or just cause Lady Gotham, if that's your thing)

It's like torture for him. He can't leave, because of all these desperate souls he feels the need to protect, but there's nothing he can do to protect them. He's forced to watch the city fall to ruin, doing his best to ignore time passing him by.

Finally, one day, Batman becomes his saviour. He's a shining beam of hope through Gotham's doom and gloom. Danny follows him home without even realising it.

And so begins the haunting of Wayne manor, as a half-alive ghost slowly regains power and desperately tries to portray that he's alive and needs help.

[alikuarso]

To answer your question about Fresh: Fresh is actually a parasite! He dresses in his 90's-themed clothes and speaks in a silly way so that others underestimate him. His main and utmost goal is to Survive, and the way he does that is by infecting other people with his parasites and draining the life from their souls. Being seen as harmless lets him get closer to them and gives him easier access for possession. He hopes to eventually take over the multiverse, spreading his parasites in every corner of it and having absolute control.

He also has no emotions. He is capable of them, but for whatever reason he is unable to feel much, besides the rare instance of anger. He does frequently feel fear, though.

He is a bit sadistic, and he likes seeing others suffer. This is because when he takes over someone he drains their soul of life, which causes them pain. And to him, taking someone's body means safety, it means he can survive a bit longer as long as he's snatched their body. So he's come to associate the pain of others as something good.

And he's also aware of the creators/viewers, thanks to an event called the Loveball, which is canon to his character.

Going to copy and paste my own words for this [I was talking to a friend about Loveball]:

"So, like seven years ago there was a fandom-wide event called the Loveball, where people gathered their OCs and had them all attend an UTMV dancing ball. Fresh went, of course. There, he met a Frisk called Pacifrisk. Even knowing who he really was [90's parasite], they still believed he could be good. Before this, he hadn't ever really felt a connection to anyone, or even positive emotions in general. But Pacifrisk's faith in him made him feel positively towards them. This freaked him out. [No Fr@ns though, don't worry. That wasn't the intention for this plot.]

As a result, not only did he try to kill them, but he also went through with his plans: the Fresh Takeover [I forget what it's actually called]. His true reason for attending the ball. OCs were either possessed by the parasites or tried to fight against them. Apparently, some people used alcohol to ward the virus off, as Fresh hates substances such as that.

Fresh wanted to take over the multiverse, with this Loveball being the first step for his total domination.

But then right in the middle of things, a Sans AU [which I totally forget the name of X,D] grabbed Fresh and basically yeeted him into an alternate state of being. One where he could see the creators, all staring at him. An audience.

The Sans revealed the nature of Fresh's existence: That he was simply a character in a story. And if the creators got bored of him, he could easily be written aside and forgotten. Erased. His conquest didn't matter, in the end.

Predictably, this gave him an existential crisis. I'm not sure what happened after, but he stopped invading and went somewhere to contemplate his existence in a depressed state.

Afterwards, he had a new goal: To entertain. To convince the creators that he was worth keeping around. Similar to his previous goal of survival, but now with more dire stakes."

His creator @loverofpiggies has some posts about the Loveball, tagged under either the 'fresh sans' tag or the 'loveball' tag, which I recommend you check out! ^^

But yeah, to answer your question: The reason Fresh fought Ink was probably 1: because he saw it as a good way to keep himself alive and 2: So that he could be relevant and interesting to the viewers.

Hope this answered any questions you might have about him! ^w^

THANK YOU BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY I WOULD HAVE FOUND ABOUT ANY OF THIS OTHERWISE😭😭😭 THAT'S A LOT

Now I want to draw fresh existential crisis mood, That's something I never would have imagined existed

Im still a bit confused about fresh not having emotions¿ but I think I got the idea, but still, why does he feel fear?

I think fresh is becoming my favorite now, help, error do something

(Thank you again for your time✨️)

[bnhaobservation]

Quirk counseling: canon, the cultural references and what we can guess from this all

So, a recent ask I received pushed me to dig more into Quirk counseling, in hope I could offer better information about it.

Also thanks to @poppy5991 who helped me to expand the overmentioned ask adding to it things I forgot to mention. Hopefully this time I've covered things better. If not, I apologize.

LOOKING AT CANON AND WHAT IT TELLS US

There’s not much about Quirk counseling as it gets mentioned, as far as I know, exactly 6 times in the whole 42 volumes (and the anime).

The first time Quirk counseling comes up, is after Shigaraki’s attack in chap 22... and not much is said.

MIDNIGHT ‘Shōgaku-ji no “issei ‘kosei’ COUNSELING” uke tenai no kajira...’ ミッドナイト「小学時の『一斉〝個性〟カウンセリング 』受けてないのかじら...」 Midnight “Didn’t he receive “universal/mass/simultaneous ‘Quirk’ counseling” in elementary school?” [Chap. 22- Ep. 14]

From what Midnight says we can infer that ‘Issei “kosei” COUNSELING’ [一斉〝個性〟カウンセリング “universal/simultaneous/mass ‘Quirk’ counseling”] is given in elementary school as kind of a group activity or class lesson as ‘issei’ (一斉) generally is used to say “simultaneous”, “all at once”, which should imply all the kids at elementary school (or more likely, all the kids in a class) get it at the same time.

For contest, Midnight brings this up because they think Tomura has too much power and was never taught to ‘control’ it (as in not to use it to do what he wants). So we can guess Quirk counseling would, in their mind, have given Tomura a better grasp of what was allowed to do with his Quirk and what wasn’t (with becoming a Villain being definitely on the ‘Don’t do it’ list).

The discussion about Quirk counseling won’t progress any further.

The next time Quirk counseling is mentioned is in chap 165.

Ikoma Komari ‘Hai… shōgakkō teigakunen wa jinkaku keisei ni oite taisetsuna jiki desu...〝Kosei〟 no chigai ga ōkiku eikyō suru tame COUNSELING o okonai. Sukoyakana seishin o hagukumeru yō SUPPORT suru no desu ga... COUNSELING mo bannōde wa arimasen. Kono CLASS no ko-tachi wa watashi-tachi ni kokoro o tozashite shimaimashita. Watashi no sekinindearu koto wa shōchi shite imasu...! Desuga...! Yume ni mukatte hagende rassharu minasama to fureau koto de massuguna kimochi o omoidasa sete age rarereba…’ 生駒小麿里「はい…小学校低学年は人格形成に於いて大切な時期です...〝個性〟の違いが大きく影響する為カウンセリングを行い。健やかな精神を育めるようサポートするのですが...カウンセリングも万能ではありません。このクラスの子たちは私達に心を閉ざしてしまいました。私の責任であることは承知しています...！ですが...！夢に向かって励んでらっしゃる皆さまと触れ合うことでまっすぐな気持ちを思い出させてあげられれば…」 Ikoma Komari “Yes... the early years of elementary school are an important time for personality development... differences in “Quirk” have a big impact, so we provide counseling. We support them in developing a healthy mind... but counseling is not a panacea. The children in this class have closed their hearts off to us. I know that it is my fault...! But...! I hope that by interacting with all of you who are working hard towards your dreams, we can help them remember their honest feelings...” [Chap. 165-Ep. 79]

Here we don’t talk specifically of Quirk counseling, just of counseling and of how ‘differences in Quirk’ have a big impact on personality development, also adding that counseling is not a fix-it-all. Ironically though, all the kids in the class seems to be the same according to their teachers, ‘mondaiji’ (問題児 “problem children”) who’re always ‘hanko-teki’ (反抗的 “rebellious”/“defiant”) no matter what she does despite them all having very different Quirks, children who have ‘closed their heart’ to them (aka they aren’t listening to them anymore) and feel they’re better than anyone else and it’s clear with this class counseling didn’t work at all.

We jump at chap 226.

CURIOUS ‘Inō no yokuatsu ni yotte jibun o koroshita fukōna shōjo, sore ga anata nandesho? Toga Himiko. ‘“Kosei” COUNSELING’, jita rikai no yugami o kyōseishi shakaisei no suri awase o hodokosu jōsō kyōiku (read: PROGRAM). Mochiron, kanpekina PROGRAM de wa naishi, kojinsa o yori tsuyoku kanjite shimau to iu mondai o kakaete imasu. Chi o nomi henshin suru, umaretsuki motsu sono inō ni yotte anata wa “chi” ni tsuyoi kyōmi o hikareru yō ni natta. Shikashi shin no fukō wa “akogare” to iu dareshimo ga daku futsū no kanjō. Chi to akogare kamiatte shimatta nitsu no yōso wa tōtei shakai ni ukeire rareru MONO de wa nakatta. Dakara, anata wa FUTA o shita. Jishin o yokuatsu shi kamen o tsukutta.’ キュリオス「異能の抑圧によって自分を殺した不幸な少女、それがあなたなんでしょ？渡我被身子（トガヒミコ）。『〝個性〟カウンセリング』、自他理解の歪みを矯正し社会性の擦り合わせを施す情操教育（プログラム）。もちろん、完璧なプログラムでは無いし、個人差をより強く感じてしまうという問題を抱えています。血を飲み変身する、生まれつき持つその異能によってあなたは〝血〟に強い興味を引かれるようになった。しかし真の不幸は〝憧れ〟という誰しもが抱く普通の感情。血と憧れ噛み合ってしまった２つの要素は到底社会に受け入れられるモノではなかった。だから、あなたはフタをした。自信を抑圧し仮面を作った。」 Curious “You’re an unfortunate girl who killed herself by suppressing her supernatural powers, aren’t you? Toga Himiko. ‘“Quirk” counseling’, it’s an emotional education (read: program) to correct distortions in self-understanding and other things, and to adjust for socialization. Of course, it’s not a perfect program, and it has the problem of making individual differences even more apparent. Your innate ability to transform by drinking blood has made you very interested in “blood”. However, your true misfortune is “admiration”, a normal emotion that anyone can have. The two elements that go together, blood and admiration, were never going to be accepted by society. So you put a lid on it. You suppressed your confidence and made a mask.” [Chap 226]

Episode 109 should be the one in charge to transpose this scene in animation but episode 109 cut the references to Quirk counseling.

CURIOUS ‘Inō no yokuatsu ni yotte jibun o koroshita fukōna shōjo. Sore ga anata nandesho? Toga Himiko. Umaretsuki motsu sono inō ni yotte anata wa chi ni tsuyoi kyōmi o hikareru yō ni natta. Shikashi, shin no fukō wa akogare to iu dareshimo ga daku futsū no kanjō to chi e no kyōmi, kono futatsu ga kamiatte shimatta koto. Sore wa tōtei shakai ni ukeire rareru MONO de wa nakatta. Dakara, anata wa FUTA o shita. Jishin o yokuatsu shi kamen o tsukutta.’キュリオス「異能の抑圧によって自分を殺した不幸な少女。それがあなたなんでしょ？渡我被身子。生まれつき持つその異能によってあなたは血に強い興味を引かれるようになった。しかし、真の不幸は憧れという誰しもが抱く普通の感情と血への興味、この二つが噛み合ってしまったこと。それは到底社会に受け入れられるモノではなかった。だから、あなたはフタをした。自信を抑圧し仮面を作った。」 Curious “You're the unfortunate girl who killed yourself by suppressing your supernatural powers. That's you, isn't it? Toga Himiko. The supernatural power you were born with has made you very interested in blood. However, your true misfortune was that your fascination with blood and your normal emotion of longing were intertwined. This is something that could never be accepted by society. So you put a lid on it. You suppressed your confidence and made a mask.” [Ep 109]

It’s a bad decision as Quirk counseling was meant to become important later but that’s what they decided to do.

Anyway in the manga there’s something we can work with, if before we were told Quirk counseling helps in developing personality, here it’s clarified the help is aimed at helping people to act ‘normal’, so that they can have a correct perception of themselves as well as socialize and interact correctly, the problem is it suppresses whatever is judged ‘not normal’ in a person and Quirks often generate wild differences between what’s normal for a person and what’s normal for another.

The result of this is that Quirk counseling ends up remarking in an even stronger way the differences between people, by forcing them to suppress feelings that are dictated by their Quirk.

We then jump to chap 370.

? ‘“Kosei” COUNSELING!” Kosei” kyōiku! Kore ga nise (read: mayakashi) de aru koto o! Wareware wa “katachi�� o motte shitte iru!.’ ?「〝個性〟カウンセリング！〝個性〟教育！これが贋（まやかし）である事を！我々は〝形〟を持って知っている！」 ? ““Quirk” counseling! “Quirk” education! This is phony/bogus/sham (read: fake/deception)! We know it due to having this “shape/form”!” [Chap. 370-Ep. 152]

At this point we’ve a nameless heteromorph guy claiming Quirk counseling (along with Quirk education) is basically a sham, it’s not it didn’t work with that class of kids by coincidence, it’s just something that doesn’t really work with Heteromorphs.

While there’s not really an explanation we can guess that, if the point of Quirk counseling is making people ‘normal’, Heteromorphs, who in Japanese are called ‘Igyō’ (異形 “abnormal”), have a hard time with it, since they’re not normal by definition and can’t really change/suppress their ‘not normal’/‘heteromorphic’ traits.

We aren’t told what Heteromorphs are told during Quirk counseling, and the thing is made more complex by how somehow in big cities there’s no discrimination, while in rural villages people still go for ‘chiharai’ (血祓い “blood cleansing”), beating and scarring Heteromorphs who dare to come into contact with not-Heteromorphs, no matter if it’s to save them.

We then jump to chap 392.

? ‘HAI kyōsei shite ikimashou “futsū” ni. A HAI mō chotto matte kudasai. Sugu sotchi ikimasu. Etto… ē daijōbudesu. Sō desu ne… tsuyoi “kosei” o motsu ko niarigachi na tōsaku desu yo. Kono shakai de wa yoku aru koto desu. Tadashite keshite ikimashou.’ ?「ハイ矯正していきましょう〝普通〟に。あハイもうちょっと待ってください。すぐそっち行きます。えっと…ええ大丈夫です。そうですね…強い〝個性〟を持つ子にありがちな倒錯ですよ。この社会ではよくあることです。正して消していきましょう。」 ? “Yes, let’s correct it and make it “normal”. Ah, yes, please wait a moment. I’ll be there right away. Um... yes, it’s okay. Well... it’s a common perversion among children with strong “Quirks”. It’s common in this society. Let’s correct it and eliminate it.” [Chap. 392]

Here we see a person talking with Himiko’s parents. We aren’t told this person is a Quirk counselor but, I guess, that’s the idea. It’s hard to say if she’s Himiko’s teacher or an external figure, however it makes clear Quirk counseling is more or less what Curious said. That person thought Himiko being fascinated by blood was wrong, she actually calls it a ‘tōsaku’ (倒錯 “perversion”), albeit one she labels as common, and tried to force Himiko to suppress her feelings so she could perceive herself and socialize with the others in a ‘correct’ way.

An interesting difference between the manga and the anime is that in the anime that person’s talk is more streamlined... and we see her also talking with Himiko's parents.

? ‘Hai kyōsei shite ikimashou futsū ni. Sō desu ne… tsuyoi kosei o motsu ko niari-gachina tōsakudesu yo. Kono shakaide wa yoku aru kotodesu. Sei shite keshite ikimashou.’ ?「ハイ矯正していきましょう普通に。そうですね…強い個性を持つ子にありがちな倒錯ですよ。この社会ではよくあることです。正して消していきましょう。」 ? “Yes, let's correct it and make it normal. It's a perversion that is common among children with strong Quirks. It's a common occurrence in this society. Let's correct it and eliminate it.” [Ep. 158]

This might imply that in the manga that person is actually busy with more things at once, she doesn’t have a lot of time to dedicate to Himiko’s parents and therefore she doesn’t have a lot of time to dedicate to Himiko.

Back to the conversation though, regardless of the source, the person talking makes clear that what Himiko does isn’t just something that’s “rude”/“inappropriate” to do in society but that it’s a “perversion”, a common one, yes, but a “perversion” and she says so to her parents who were already worried she wasn’t human.

Chichioya ‘Mō nekko ga!’ 父親「もう根っこが！」 Father “Her core/roots is/are already– (gone/rotten)!”

Hahaoya ‘Ningen ja nai ko un jatta!’ 母親「人間じゃない子産んじゃった！」 Mother “I gave birth to a child that isn’t human!” [Chap. 392-Ep. 158]

And later

Hahaoya ‘Watashi-tachi ga waruin desu. Mō… tsugunai kirenai desu… ganbatta kedo damedattan desu… ano ko ha… akuma no konan desu.’ 母親「私たちが悪いんです。もう…償い切れないです…頑張ったけど駄目だったんです…あの子は…悪魔の子なんです。」 Mother “It's our fault. We can never make up for it. We tried our best but it was no use. That child is a demon's child.” [Chap. 226]

So Quirk counseling didn’t really reassure her parents nor solved Himiko’s problems. They weren’t going to accept that Himiko could have different feelings from the norm and help her to cope with them correctly, they just wanted to eradicate them from her. As she couldn’t, she was forced to suppress them… and since she couldn’t keep them bottled up forever they eventually exploded and lead her to hurt Saito.

The last time Quirk counseling comes up is at the end of the manga.

? ‘Tsudzuite wa TEAM-UP NEWS. INGENIUM, FROPPY, CREATI soshite URAVITY ga zenkoku no shōgakkō o megutte imasu. Teki (read: VILLAIN) hasseiritsu no genshō ni tomonai katsudō no haba wo hirogeru “HERO”-tachi sono naka demo-- URAVITY no uchidashita “kosei” COUNSELING kakuchō keikaku wa ima mottomo hitsuyō fukaketsuna katsudō to iwa rete imasu.’ ?「続いてはチームアップニュース。インゲニウムフロッピー・クリエティそしてウラビティが全国の小学校を巡っています。敵（ヴィラン）発生率の減少に伴い活動の幅を広げる〝ヒーロー〟たちその中でもーーウラビティの打ち出した〝個性〟カウンセリング拡張計画は今最も必要不可欠な活動と言われています。」 ? “Next up is team-up news. Ingenium, Froppy, Creativity and Uravity are touring elementary schools across the country. As enemy (read: Villain) occurrence rates decrease, the “heroes” are expanding the scope of their activities. Among them, Uravity’s “Quirk” counseling expansion plan is said to be the most essential activity right now.”

In this bit it seems that expanding Quirk counseling became a key factor in lowering the occurrence rate of Villains… which, of course, doesn’t seem to be possible since in almost all the other cases in which Quirk counseling was mentioned it turned out it either didn’t work (with the Masegaki elementary school kids) or made matters worse (Himiko and the heteromorphs). Is it a typing mistake as apparently the program already reached all the elementary schools so it didn’t need to be expanded and, anyway, didn’t work? Or does ‘expanding’ refers to actually put more resources and people in Quirk counseling so they can actually devote more time to the kids and help them better? Hard to say.

LOOKING AT THE CULTURAL CONTEST AND WHAT IT TELLS US

Counseling in Japan

While, of course, there’s no Quirk counseling in Japan, by 2006 Japan had school counselors (スクールカウンセラー) available in all the public middle schools. Prior to it though, this work was entrusted to the homeroom teacher (担任教師 ‘Tannin kyōshi’) and often also the school nurse (看護教諭 ‘Kango kyōyu’ ) who were meant to dispense discipline, encourage better conduct, increase motivation, provide career guidance, and offer advice. Those teachers though, were not trained in counseling, and it was often a duty they disliked, often choosing to use their classroom hours for something different than “moral education” depending on their personal educational agenda. Now instead, when problems arise, the teacher or the students or the students’ parents can ask help to the school counselor, which would also offer the plus of being a third party figure, so that they would be people not involved in evaluating students (and therefore have no conflict of interests with them) and would be professional in the field of psychology so as to offer better help to them.

Currently in Japan a school counselor visits a school about once a week to give children advice about various problems they face. School counseling is provided by clinical psychologists, psychiatrists and other professionals with expertise in mental health issues. In addition to advising children, the counselors can advise parents and teachers about how to handle their own day-to-day. A school counselor stands by in a counseling room where he or she listens to children’s problems one-on-one. Children can seek advice about whatever may worry them, such as relations with their friends, their family problems and uncertainties about their future and the counselor will advice them about how they should handle their problems while also talking with their homeroom teachers about what would be the best solution to each problem.

The problems with this system are often that the Clinical Psychologist isn’t also trained as a school counselor which leads with problems of interaction with the teachers, that there is confusion about the role of teachers and school counselors, and that there’s a HUGE stigma of shame at the idea of students or parents seeing a counselor. Much of the counseling that is now conducted in the Japanese schools is remedial with the individual as the focus; an approach that is contrary to the Asian interdependent view of self, an approach that seems to further exacerbate the student’s reluctance to see the school counselor.

It’s possible Horikoshi went for a mix of the above, with Quirk counseling given both by the class homeroom teacher and by a specialist… and the improvement was that the specialist was better prepared for the job or that he were to spend more time than once a week in the school… or that Quirk counseling originally was given by the homeroom teacher and then, Uraraka’s expansion program improved it by having it being given by a third party figure who was more competent than the teacher. Hard to tell.

Honne, Tatemae and Giri

Honne (本音 “true sound”) refers to a person's true feelings and desires.

Tatemae (建前 “built in front”, “façade”) refers contrastingly to the behavior and opinions one displays in public.

Giri (義理 “duty”, “obligation”) refers to the social obligations each person have.

Okay, fine, why should we care about these three words? Because Japanese people go to great length to hide their honne (true feelings) and show their tatemae (facade) so as to fulfill their giri (social obligation). They must do everything they can to avoid the disapproval of others, to avoid direct confrontation or disagreement. They’re completely justified in telling white lies to hide their true nature and present their Tatemae, so completely justified they can lie even in trial, that they’re expected to do so (remember when, in chap 306, a guy said Enji should have just lied in regard to what Touya declared?).

Part of the Quirk counseling plan is clearly based on this, on teaching children how to show a socially acceptable tatemae and hide their own honne. This is what Himeko was taught, that her own fascination for blood was an unacceptable honne and needed to be buried inside herself if she wanted to be ‘normal’. That it was her duty to present herself as ‘normal’ and therefore show solely an acceptable tatemae.

Tōsaku (倒錯 “perversion”) and double meanings

As said before ‘Tōsaku’ means “perversion” and it’s used to describe how Himiko is fascinated by blood… but this is a word also used to describe sexual deviances… and Horikoshi clearly had fun with using words with double meanings in Himiko’s case, for example the onomatopoeia for sucking blood (ちうちう ‘chiuchiu’), sounds also like the onomatopoeia for kissing, Himiko is referred as a ‘ijōsha’ (異常者) which can be translated as “deviant” but also as “pervert” and so on. In short Horikoshi subtly create parallels between Himiko’s love for blood and the fact that Himiko’s way of loving people is not what in Japan is labeled as normal (she also loves girls and not just boys and would like to hurt people she loves). So, while Himiko’s problem of being fascinated with blood might seem distant from the audience as people in real world don’t have a Quirk that makes them fascinated with blood, the parallelism with sexual inclinations bring Himeko back into someone with whom people can relate and, in a way, someone that stands in parallel with Magne.

Heteromorphs, how ‘not normal’ they are meant to be and blood impurity

In English the word ‘Igyō’ (異形) had been translated as “heteromorph” but a better translation is “abnormal” or, more literally “not normal shape”. In a Quirk counseling program that aims at making everyone ‘normal’, who already starts with a name that states they’re not with a normal shape is clearly cut out of the race.

When Shouji talks of what was done to him he mentions ‘chiharai’ (血祓い “blood cleansing”) [Chap 371] and, in the previous chapter, he was told he had ‘imi chi’ (忌み血 “cursed blood”) [Chap 370].

Japan is very invested in blood purity, in pre-Meiji era Shinto and Buddhist traditions considered blood (血 ‘chi’) a source of symbolic pollution or ‘kegare’ (穢れ “uncleanness”, “defilement”) with elaborate rituals of avoidance and purification, however, in the Edo period (1603–1868) blood gained the positive meaning of “lineage”/”life force”, overtaking the preceding key metaphors for heredity. This though ended up causing the solidification of a hereditary status system that placed certain groups of people as being permanently “polluted” because they had works tied with blood, like executioners, undertakers, slaughterhouse workers, butchers, and tanners called ‘eta’ (穢多 “great filth”) as well as beggars, street performers, prostitutes, convicted criminals, and the physically disabled among others called ‘hinin’ (非人 “not people”) which together form the group called ‘burakumin’ (部落民 “village people”) and were considered outcasts. Their own blood was considered permanently impure, they were subject to increasingly stricter sanctions that prohibited their contact and mixing with the rest of society by means of restricted residences, economic activities, special clothing, hairstyles, and tattoos and since now blood also was a term used to define lineage, its polluting property also came to be regarded as inheritable and permanent which is why people still don’t want to marry (aka ‘mix blood’) with people whose ancestors were ‘burakumin’.

This was also made worse from the 1900 eugenicist obsession with blood as a medium to modernize the Japanese race and nation.The pure Japanese blood, or “Yamato blood,” was now heralded as a refined superior substance to be protected or enhanced through social programs of reproduction and health also through eugenic marriage counseling services.

This ultimately expanded to include people who had mental illness or familiar with mental illness but also with people who are of not pure Japanese ancestry. We would probably talk about genetics. In Japan it’s referred as blood.

Blood type is, in Japanese mentality, also tied with personality and discrimination can be so high that some would just discriminate people with blood type B or AB as negative stereotyping credits the B types as selfish, and ABs as eccentric and unpredictable and therefore more prone to have a loose morality.

As a result even if Shouji being a Heteromorph is tied to his Quirk and his genes, the story talks about his ‘cursed blood’… and people could refer to it also in relation to how the Todoroki are related to a criminal, Touya/Dabi.

(Plus this also tells you why Himiko's fascination for blood could NEVER be accepted since things related to blood lead to impurity)

While all this doesn’t tell us much about Quirk counseling, it helps to get a better perspective on why blood is mentioned when Heteromorphs are discriminated and how strong discrimination can be based to blood ties, clearly making it something that can’t be overcome with just the discriminated person in question trying to ‘act normal’ by presenting an acceptable ‘tatemae’.

The series leaves unclear what exactly falls into the Heteromorph category because, if the problem is just the shape being not normal, things like having tapes in your arms or engines in your legs, or horns on your head also give you an abnormal shape. Overall we can assume that the more the shape is abnormal and hard to ‘disguise’ as normal, the more one ends up being considered as an Heteromorph (Shouji’s arms are a much more visible ‘abnormal’ trait than Iida’s legs or Sero’s arms).

Just so you know currently Japan lacks any law which prohibits racial, ethnic, or religious discrimination nor has any national human rights institutions. Although racism exists it’s a taboo topic. In the past in the name of national unity, the Japanese government identified and forcefully assimilated marginalized populations, which included indigenous Ryukyuans, Ainu, and other underrepresented groups, imposing assimilation programs in language, culture and religion. Japan considers these ethnic groups as a mere “subgroup” of the Japanese people and therefore synonymous to the Yamato people, and does not recognize them as a minority group with a distinct culture. This is why in the story Heteromorph discrimination isn’t punished but it could also be the basis for why the Quirk counseling doesn’t keep into consideration how Heteromorphs are different but tries to force them too to act ‘normal’.

Quirk

We’re all familiar with the term Quirk that in Japanese is ‘kosei’ (〝個性〟 always written between quotation marks) which, translated literally means “individuality” or “personality”. In a country that is group oriented, values uniformity and thinks standing out is bad, Quirks that instead grant an even more marked ‘individuality’ and that are unique to each person, should feel like a big deal… but also it you tie a superpower with your personality you might get some unpleasant combo that aren’t really meant to be. For example thing at Tomura and at how his Quirk destroy/decay things. If you think that his Quirk is his ‘personality’ or tied to it, you get the idea Tomura is someone who can only destroy/decay, that has a destructive character or that who has an animal Quirk has an animal character.

WHERE ALL THIS LEAVES US?

Japanese youths have been fighting so as to have their individuality recognized in various subtle ways but it’s still an ongoing battle. The same goes for the descendant of the Burakumin and for people in the LGBTQ+ community. Sadly most of those topics are kind of considered taboo to discuss in Japanese culture so it’s possible that Horikoshi’s attempt at saying that Quirk counseling would be improved is a subtle message that’s meant to say that in the BNHA world steps would be taken to improve the acceptance of those people and the recognition of each person’s individuality, implying more a change into mentality/education than a change into some institutionalized thing called ‘Quirk counseling’, hence he didn’t need to develop much how it would work.

Of course mine is purely speculation.

Ultimately, if we solely look at the story, how Quirk counseling work/is administered is hardly well explained in the story, and how is reformed is explained even less (saying just it underwent an expansion) as well as why Uraraka, who had no idea of Himiko’s problems with Quirk counseling, decided to focus on it. But it’s likely the cultural context that’s meant to make it work for Japanese readers using solely what little is explained as reference and, for them, improving it, is likely a big step.

For whose of us who are instead cut out from the whole cultural context, there’s just too little to work with and it feels forgettable and confusing.

Said all this, which is likely still an incomplete overview, I hope my ramblings will help people to understand it better. If not, I apologize.

[gravityrises]

Thinking about "Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future": And you know what? I'm not even going to defend Ford in this one, because he did in fact mess up. But there are still a few thoughts I wanted to share.

1. Ford took Dipper on a dangerous mission:

Well, there are a few things to point out. First, Ford most likely didn't think it would be dangerous at all. His plan was to retrieve the alien adhesive and be done with it. If along the way he could show some cool stuff to a twelve-year-old, that would be a plus, right?

Second, at least Ford was physically there, when all hell broke loose. Stan just allowed the kids to venture into a forest full of paranormal creatures completely on their own. Meanwhile, Ford understood that kids are curious by nature and it's impossible to contain their curiosity by simply denying everything. So, it would be better to go along with them.

Still, this does not absolve Ford of his wrongdoing, just because Stan sucks as a caretaker. "I did something bad, but other people have done worse" is a wrong attitude to have in general. Ford should've been more careful and not allowed Dipper to mess around with the controls on the alien ship. Which, I should probably add, wasn't the reason why the droids were activated. That was just generally irresponsible.

2."Just feel no fear", he said:

Yeah, I actually disagree with people who claim Ford was wrong in saying that. He wasn't asking Dipper to repress his feelings or whatever. It's actually more similar to being instructed to keep calm during a fire alarm. Which, you should. You absolutely should. Your life may depend on whether or not you manage to control your emotions. That doesn't mean you'll have to repress your feelings for the rest of your life, you can still deal with them after the crisis is over.

And was Ford expecting out of Dipper too much? Perhaps, but Dipper still had to know what was going on. Explaining how the security droids worked was the right call and I will stand by that.

3. Ford's apprenticeship offer:

Okay, let's get this out of the way, I do believe Dipper shouldn't have stayed with Ford after summer. And it wouldn't be healthy or good for a young boy to stay apart from his family and peers. Maybe it would've been okay, if he were slightly older and still interested in this field. But at this point Dipper is an impressionable kid, whose plans for the future might change a hundred times over until he reaches adulthood.

Something I failed to appreciate before is that wrong timing is something that affects Ford, as much as Dipper. And it's something Ford brings up himself, he is getting older. And who knows for how much longer he'll be able to continue his strenuous work in Gravity Falls. He was definitely under pressure to find someone who would be willing to learn about the anomalies. And not just by reading the journals: Some skills are better acquired in the field, by being shown how it's done and giving it a try yourself.

Still, as much as it is tempting to offer this apprenticeship to Dipper, Ford really needs to look for someone else.

[maxdibert]

The double standards of HP fandom is the highlight of my day. I love the hypocrisy of “the marauders have matured” as they say and make up horrible things about Sev. It's always “they were teenagers, all teenagers do shit”, but they also ignore that Severus was a teenager when he called Lily a Mudblood, he was also a teenager when he believed that the bad side was a lifeline in his existence. But they always throw him under the bus, shouting like idiots about how Severus is “racist”, “fascist” and “nazi”. Boys will always be boys, until the boy is Severus and they will act as if an outcast child is the root of the entire world's evil and that their favorites are peacekeepers just because they are on the “good” side of the coin, ignoring that his “punishers” are part of the reason Sev is who he has become.

I couldn’t agree more with this. The double standards are wild, and the mental gymnastics people do to justify their favorites while trashing Severus is honestly fascinating in the worst way. Like, “the Marauders have matured”? Please. Sirius is 30+ years old in Order of the Phoenix and still acting like he’s in high school, picking fights with Snape just because he can. That’s maturity? Meanwhile, Severus is held accountable forever for stuff he did as a literal teenager, in the middle of being bullied and isolated, and on top of that, having no real support system.

The “he was a Nazi” argument drives me insane. Severus grew up in a broken home, surrounded by poverty, abuse, and probably a ton of internalized self-loathing. He latched onto the Death Eaters as a desperate, misguided attempt to gain power and control in a world where he had none. Does that make his choices right? No, but it makes them understandable. But no, let’s keep pretending he was just an evil mastermind from birth while completely ignoring that James and Sirius literally assaulted him for fun. I guess we’re cool with bullies as long as they’re charming and good-looking?

And don’t even get me started on Dumbledore. Everyone acts like Dumbledore is some saint, but the man literally used Severus as a pawn for years, keeping him trapped in this cycle of guilt and redemption while letting everyone else treat him like garbage. But oh no, Snape said a slur when he was 15, so let’s act like he’s beyond redemption. Meanwhile, the Marauders and their crew, who are canonically responsible for attempted murder (hello, werewolf prank??), get a free pass because they’re “fun.”

It’s the hypocrisy for me. Severus has to be perfect, repentant, and saintly just to be considered “okay,” while others get to coast on their charm and charisma despite being cruel, reckless, or outright abusive. If you’re going to judge characters for their actions, at least hold them all to the same standard, or just admit you’re biased and move on. P.S. Unpopular opinion, but honestly, Severus calling Lily a “Mudblood” feels almost laughable compared to everything he was going through at the time. Maybe it’s because my friends and I (we’ve literally known each other since nursery school) are a codependent bunch with dynamics straight out of a dysfunctional family, but we’ve had fights, arguments, screamed at each other, thrown the nastiest things in each other’s faces, stopped talking for a while, and yet we always managed to work things out. I get that Lily had her reasons for cutting ties—it’s absolutely valid, and no one has the right to tell you when or how to set boundaries with someone you feel isn’t good for you anymore. But the fandom in general blows this way out of proportion. I mean, I personally find an attempted murder, like the one Sirius orchestrated, a lot worse, and yet people don’t give that even half the weight they give to this incident.

[kingkat12]

so... this is the deleted original ending to the first chapter of seven minutes in heaven. made centuries ago. enjoy!!

(it sorta starts in the middle of the closet scene, so here goes nothing)

WARNINGS: SMUT! SMUT! ROMAN BEING AN ASSHOLE! mind control powers being used for BAD bad bad BAD things!! implied mind control during sex so is it dub-con?, dark!Roman, not-so-happy-ending

word count: 1,811

a/n: there was a reason this version was scrapped... it felt too dark and not fun and urgh i'm simply posting this as an ancient artifact lol. it might suck as i wrote this back in august, but oh well!!!

(Roman is NOT a feminist in this one, so... irony<333 generalizing cunt)

 "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze. I couldn't look at him, not right not, not when we were this close and alone. 

"So..." Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, and he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've wanted to try out, now's the time."

My breath hitched, hoping the thumping of my heart wasn't audible to him. 

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman, and I knew she'd be against it.

However... I was being served my biggest dream on a platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again? 

I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he wasn't holding a needle or no. That was when I knew my anxiety was through the roof. "So... you want a kiss? That's all?"

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would say no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he wouldn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what it was that I was actually asking of him. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system. 

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry overcome me— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

I shouldn't have been so shocked— I should've expected this. I should've known that Roman would spin this around on me. I definitely knew he wouldn't reciprocate, but this? What was it, revenge? 

"I could make your every waking moment a living hell," he continued, his cold hands suddenly travelling up my body, gripping my waist with a grip I was afraid would bruise. "Letha would take my side, of course... Who else do you have but her, hm?"

I wanted to break out into tears, now grabbing at his hands. Almost panicked, I tried to get him off of me, but to no avail. "I'll leave you alone," I pleaded, finding his eyes.

"Nah, that's not what I want," I could see the sadistic satisfaction overcome him— I saw how he broke out into a wide grin at the sight of my glossy eyes. "How about we make a deal?"

Making a deal with the devil reincarnated? Very smart move, on my part. Fucking genius. "Okay?"

Roman hummed, his harsh grip around my waist releasing, allowing me to finally suck in a heave of air. Catching me off guard, he suddenly pressed his lips against my forehead with the softest touch I had ever felt— was he trying to throw me off course? 

"Start being nice..." Roman murmured, his now hands drawing soothing circles onto my back. "And I will reward you."

I let out a shaky breath; I was thankful that the agreement didn't involve any needles. "... That's all?"

"That's all," Roman echoed, pulling away to watch my expression. "You and your mouth have been making my life hell, do you know that? So if you can calm the fuck down, we could both get what we want. How does that sounds?"

I wasn't completely sold. "And what is it that you think I want?"

Roman's eyes darkened; he knew he had won. "Me," 

Oh, how I hated him. I hated him, and I knew I always would. But as his lips ghosted over mine, seconds away from touching, I didn't stand a chance anymore when the following words sounded past his plush lips; "I have a feeling I might have to put you in your place a little, hm? Maybe you'd even want that? Because honestly, I know girls like you... You fight until your last breath, then you're completely in denial, and then you'll fall apart the minute you get what you've always wanted,"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this... me? 

"And you've always wanted to be one of my girls, haven't you?" Roman leaned down, pressing a deadly soft kiss against my cheek which nearly took my breath away; I could feel him smirk against my skin. "Or maybe... the only one?"

At this point, I felt so broken down that I gave in to a nod. 

Roman's hand slowly ghosted up my body until his fingers gently wrapped around my neck, holding me in place, almost as though he feared I would run; "I can arrange that, y'know?"

This conversation had unlocked a deep, dark part of me that I didn't know I had— like this, completely at his mercy, I had a feeling I was made to be his. Brainwashed. That I was put on this earth to find him and be with him, and that we were destined to be together. It made me feel so weak and pathetic that my lower lip eventually gave in to a quiver, feeling a sob build.

Roman let go of my neck, stroking his fingers through my hair. "Shh, no need for that... You're fine, you're okay. It's just me."

Just me. Just Roman. He who that had haunted my dreams for months, the only one I could think of when I got myself off, and the one I had been longing for from afar for so long that it turned into burning hate. 

Roman must've felt like he was done torturing me, finally meeting my lips with the most gentle kiss I had ever shared. This was all I had ever wanted— he was right. My heart beat hard in my chest as I let myself melt against his dangerously soft lips. 

I wanted to be his, no matter the cost. No matter what happened or what I had to sacrifice. 

I loved Roman Godfrey.

... and I was sure of it now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Yes— This was right.

Of course. 

I loved him. 

I loved him, I loved him, God, how I loved him. With every fibre of my being, I loved him. 

I loved the feeling of his body against mine, corrupting my mind until I was nothing but mindless. A small part of me also loved that it was our little secret, and ours only. 

Letha didn't have a clue, of course— I had kept my act up quite well when I was around her. I had kept it up around everyone else as well, but the anger that was ravaging through my system, the hate that was burning me up from inside was currently being mended by one thing and one thing only;

"A-Aah—"

My fingers tangled into Roman's hair, feeling his bruising grip around my hips tighten as he fucked me into my mattress. I let out a small cry, feeling my legs starting to go numb after how long they had been thrown over his broad shoulders. Deep down, I didn't care— nothing could put out the angry fire in my soul like Roman did. Nothing was a better remedy than feeling his cock inside me, no matter what, when, or where.

I let out a gasp as Roman shifted, pulling me into his lap with ease. I couldn't feel my legs now, and I had a sense that he knew— he barely had to put any strength into moving me around, especially with how he was towering over me in general. 

I let out a gasp as he sunk me down on his length, and I gripped his shoulders with a short squeak for support. Heavy breaths escaped my parted lips as I clung to him, whimpering at the feeling of his thick cock stroking my insides. 

Roman seemed beyond content, gazing up at me with half-lidded eyes. He revelled in the sight of how ruined I was before he attached his soft lips to my collarbone to bring forth a hickey, humming. That was the one place we both knew Letha wouldn't see it, after all. 

It was impossible not to submit to the devil reincarnated when sex could feel this good with him. It didn't matter that I had practically sold my soul for this, because every second, every stroke of his cock, was worth it. 

"You're heaven," he murmured, lifting my hips and pushing himself further into me, taking more control. "You feel so... shit, this is heaven—"

Ironic.

And just as I felt my climax approaching, flashes of thoughts I had suppressed came crashing forward. No matter how nice all of this felt, I couldn't help but wonder how I had even agreed to any of this in the first place. But it wasn't like he had mind control powers, right? It wasn't like this was some sadistic ploy to seek revenge against all the times I had been a complete and utter bitch to him.

No— it couldn't be. Don't be ridiculous.

... Right?

[space-cowboys-and-aliens]

At Your Immediate Discretion

Rating: Mature

General Acacius x Reader

Word Count: 700

You meet General Acacius under the cover of night, revealing what you've been hiding from him.

"I have something weighing on my spirit. It seems that it needs your attention."

"What is it?"

"Over the last several weeks, I've realized…there are developments that have made their presence known to me."

"Developments? What is it you speak of?"

"Sir, my apologies. There is something horrible happening inside of me."

He laughs. "Horrible?"

"Yes, wicked and vile and ugly and…"

His face grows serious.

"Gods. We must get the doctors in at once. Fetch Brenan, he will see you to them."

"No! Sir, it’s more than what doctors’ minds alleviate."

The general, still confused, sits on a stone protruding from the ground.

"The feelings I have…the thoughts in my mind…you would think I’m growing mad. The worst kind, brought on in massive quantity by your presence. Forgive me. I cannot wash myself clean enough. I have tried. Gods, I fear the worst."

"My…"

He takes your wrists in one massive hand, holding them in a firm but grounding embrace.

"You are not…unclean, as you have said. You, of all, have the least to feel shame for. Who told you this was necessary to believe?"

"But never in my life have I felt so indecent, so exposed. It’s unnatural for a young woman of high nobility to entertain, allow, such deviancy. I throw shame upon myself. Forgive me. Depravity echoes through my soul."

"It’s very natural. Very mortal to feel…such a way."

She looks up.

"It is?"

"It is."

"I say again, General. I have horrible, deeply troubling thoughts. Every day. Every night."

"Every night?"

"When you pace by in the corridors. I sense you from gait alone. Across the gardens in the mornings. In the cathedral. Every fiber of my being attunes to yours. I’ve been alone most of my life. I’ve never had anyone teach me the ways in… what I can only describe as carnal desire. The sins of the flesh. Cartha and Tom run through the streets in the night, scheming for conquests. Their company has surely infected my nature. I have plagued you, too. I must…"

"Please look at me."

You can’t.

"There is something horrible happening inside of me..."

"There is nothing horrible happening."

"And it hurts."

"You don’t have to hurt, my stars. Where does it hurt? Tell me."

"Here."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"And you say I am the cause of your impure thoughts."

"Dear gods, how to control it? This fire within, wreaking havoc and destruction where I turn. Please."

"Would you like me to show you…?"

His hand was warm as he spread his touch across your waist.

"Please, let me touch you."

"Oh, my gods."

You lean forward, arms winding around his neck, bringing your foreheads together.

"He holds onto you by your waist."

"Hey. Shhh, it’s okay. You make the sweetest sounds. Are they for me?"

You nod.

"Answer."

"Yes," you breathe.

"I’m going to take care of it, okay?"

You nod.

This is the first time you have ever felt anything like this. Your face contorts at the faintest hint of pleasure.

He slowly pulls her body closer until it’s pressed flush to his own.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes, yes, it feels so good."

"You’re so sensitive…"

"So sensitive…," you repeat.

"So needy…"

You stop rocking her hips. Looking down at him,

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no. Come here. So good for me…"

"…you…"

"Turn around."

You obey, and he kisses your neck as you stretch the skin. You feel your head tilt up, up, towards the heavens. His laving attention increases as your impatience towards relief grows, drawing a slight whine from your core. He grunts, a heavy sigh upon your open back. Another kiss presses to the nape of your neck. Your breathing turns to pants, mouth open, gaping at the worlds above.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

S2 Entry 2: Soothe the Goosebumps

Image credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) soothes him down from an impending panic attack with apple cubes. (1346 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, finger sucking (light), impending panic attack (panic attack doesn’t happen), praise kink, feeding kink?, subby!Carmy. Mentions of Donna Berzatto.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: String Lights

“Do you not decorate for Christmas?” she asked. “Not even string lights or a mini tree?”

No. Fuck Christmas.

The silence, and the subsequent recoil evident on her face when I looked up from the apple I was dicing, is what told me I’d said that aloud. My stomach flipped. Hands abruptly turned cold for some reason. Heat flooded into my face.

I can’t even begin to explain to you the biblical level of shit I was in that week. That whole month, honestly. The review didn’t go well—we weren’t given our star, which meant that not only did all my bullshit that I pulled in the restaurant after having that mental fucking breakdown after the walk-in incident severely strain all my interpersonal relationships, it also did fuck all to give us any sort of results. If we’d gotten the star, then maybe, maybe, it would’ve stung just a little less. The wounds haven’t gone away—the repeated flare-ups of fighting between Sugar, Richie, Syd, and me are evidence of that—but the star would’ve been salve on the cuts. Maybe taken away some of the burn. No, it just redoubled everyone’s rage at me (including my own. I was getting dangerously close to hating myself more than I hate the fucking Devil at this point). So, the burst of fighting at the top of November turned into all-out war for the rest of the month. We’d found something of a balance before—minus the flare-ups—where I’d do a new menu every month using seasonal ingredients. I’d be mindful of what the kitchen staff could do, Syd and I would actually properly collaborate on them, so she didn’t feel voiceless (even if working with another person drove me fucking insane sometimes), and Richie and I would, generally, as much as we both could corral our familial trauma, try to stay out of each other’s way. Sometimes even get along a bit.

“Carmy?”

Now? Now I lost all fucking control of my restaurant. Syd and I were battling over the menu because even when accounting for her notes, she wanted to scrap whatever I did. Richie was so far out of my grasp that Sugar maintained a demilitarized zone between us, acting as the Secretary of State—or I don’t know, a fucking messenger pigeon—bringing things back and forth, all while trying not to (and failing on multiple occasions) explode at either of us for our bullshit. And it was bullshit. We’re fucking adults, I keep trying to act like a fucking adult and get a handle on myself so this doesn’t fucking happen again—I’m in therapy, for fuck’s sake!—and yet Richie and Syd insist on being fucking children about it.

In retrospect, I don’t blame Syd. If your coworker spiraled off the fucking deep end, and all you got out of that was the trauma of surviving that spiral, would you even want to fucking look at them again? She worked her ass off to make The Bear what it is, she put stock in her own identity as a chef, and wants, more than anything, to be able to take pride in her work.

I said I wouldn’t stand by and let her do to herself what I did to me, right?

Am I not her Devil?

So here we are, December three days away, still without a fucking menu.

“Baby? Sweetheart? Hey.”

Shit. Shit. Fuck. I dropped the knife onto the cutting board. “S-sorry. Sorry, I-I should explain—”

“I just wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction.” She held her hands up, palms out towards me. “It’s okay. It just caught me by surprise is all.”

“Christmas-Christmas is fucking traumatizing.” Why did it come out like a question? It’s a fact. It was fucking traumatizing. I closed my eyes, trying to retreat to the quiet dark, where it’s stable, where it’s safe. “My-my mom, she would, uh, she would do this-this big feast. Seven Fishes... And it was-it was always such a fucking disaster. And-and she would always explode at the tiniest thing. I-I hate fucking Christmas and New Years a-a-and-and fucking birthdays. Fuck birthdays.”

Something burned in my chest. A deep sort of fiery sting that took me two heartbeats to recognize as stomach acid bubbling into my esophagus. I grasped at the pain as if I could somehow get ahold of it and remove it from me, could toss it away like a wet paper towel, but all I found was the front of my apron.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Oh no, Darling sounded worried. I fucking hate when I worry her. I pried my eyes open and found her expression contorted in concern, eyebrows scrunched together, corners of her mouth turned down. “What’s wrong? Pain? Nausea?”

I tried talking, but I couldn’t produce sound past the hot iron burning my insides. Blindly reached for the quart of water and chugged a few sips down. It provided some relief initially, but the flames came right back.

“Hold on.” She rifled around the cabinet above my head and pried off the lid of the baking soda container. Put two pinches in the quart. Swirled it. “It’ll taste weird, but it should help.”

Metallic. Metallic, bitter, kind of salty? Like I licked a dirty penny or something. Weird doesn’t sum it up, it’s fucking disgusting. She rubbed up and down my sternum as I gulped this vile concoction down.

“It’s a base, it’ll help neutralize the acid,” she explained. “Just take little sips until the burning stops.” I’m sure she knew I understood the logic, but I appreciated her talking to me anyway. It was comforting. Something to focus on. Something to drown out the memories of ma’s yelling bubbling away in the back of my head.

Goosebumps exploded on my arms when I took another gulp of the baking soda water. It just kept getting worse. Now the weird taste was lingering on my tongue well after the water was gone, but my chest still burned like a brand was on it. Darling rubbed her hands up and down my forearm, trying to soothe the goosebumps away.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

I responded too slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Not even giving me this horrible shit; it was helping the heartburn.

“No, about the whole…” she gestured in a wide circle. Ah. About Christmas and shit. Got it. “It’s gotta be tough. With. How much those things are engrained in society and all.”

I shrugged a shoulder. Grimaced and got another wave of chills on the next sip of baking soda water. She picked up an apple cube and pressed it to my lips. It wasn’t meant to be an intimate gesture—I’m getting better at reading her face and knowing what the intention behind anything she does is—but something deep in my core tightened and warmed when she fed me the morsel of apple, when the tip of her finger rested just a second too long on my lips. I must’ve had a certain look on my face because she made the cute little cooing sound that meant she figured something out. Cupped my face with her other hand. Stroked my cheek.

“That better, pretty boy?”

She brought another apple cube to my lips, kept her eyes locked on mine—this piercing gaze halfway between interrogative and fascinated, like she was a cat observing a new toy, trying to figure out how to pounce on it. My navel flooded with heat, dick twitched in my sweats. Half of me wanted to shrink in place, become tiny and insignificant, small enough to fit in her pocket like a pathetic but endearing pet. The other half of me got lost in her eyes, in those shimmering river stones, in the perfect architecture of her eyelashes, as if admiring a fine work in some pretentious fucking museum somewhere. She let me suck the tip of her thumb clean. Dragged it slowly over my tongue.

I nodded. Yes. Yes, it’s better.

The fuck was I even stressing about before?

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[honey-bell-aint-well]

How would Fresh react if a host he possessed, who knew what he was, wasn't resisting that much because they understood his situation and couldn't blame him, I mean he has to do that to live, and instead asked him to at least not drain them whole and leave them before they become unrecoverable, like that would be fair cause both of them deserve to live, and also just being very miserable and hurting and sad and silently begging for comfort and the same understanding they gave to him while they give him the saddest kicked puppy look in the mindscape/their imagination, ideally wanting to share control or at least for Fresh to occasionally humor them and listen to music or consume fiction they like, but doubting that would ever happen, and generally just hoping for Fresh to not be unnecessarily cruel?

First of all: Thank you for asking me a question about Fresh! Now I get to ramble >:3

Second: Interesting question. For the host it would be terrible, and I question why they would be so ready to hand their life over to someone else. Do they not have family or friends, are they not invested in their own life? Why? Are they a host by force or were they manipulated into it? Or did they give themselves up willingly? If it's the latter, then why?

Fresh probably wouldn't give them acknowledgement. He doesn't have the capacity to care about them, and he thinks of hosts as just tools. He wouldn't be cruel to them, because why unnecessarily hurt a body he's using? He doesn't want to feel pain.

But he canonically does enjoy it when the person he's possessing feels pain from him feeding on their soul. A quote from CQ: "In honesty, he’s just being sadistic and enjoys gaining control over others, especially if he tricked them beforehand. Possessing a crowd of people and making them do what he wants, just makes HIM happy. And by ‘happy’ I do mean his extremely numb, limited view on it."

But if he possesses them AFTER the Loveball? If he becomes capable of guilt, I think he'd still ignore their pleas, but this time out of a sense of self-preservation rather than indifference. I think he'd start to hate himself for it, but would be unable to even comprehend giving up the safety of having a host. His drive for survival is extremely strong. I think he can survive outside of a host, but his parasite form is very weak. I think he'd consider having a host to be necessary.

I also think he'd still be sadistic and enjoy their pain, but the enjoyment would be pretty soured by all of his new negative emotions.

I think, out of guilt, he'd let the host listen to songs and read fiction [as long as it isn't inappropriate. If it is then he'd censor it]. He'd probably do it very rarely though, and he'd be mad at himself for doing so. He's not used to guilt, and he doesn't understand why he's doing these things even though it doesn't benefit him. [Clarification: He'd be confused, but he'd default to anger because he's really bad at dealing with his emotions].

Over time as he feels more, he might begin to consider them more than just a tool. At that point, I think the guilt would be so strong that he'd feel physically sick. I don't know what he would in that case.

And then there's the whole Loveball existential crisis. That definitely factors into this, but I'm not exactly sure how. He'd definitely keep trying to appear as his usual radical self, no matter how he feels. He might not succeed sometimes though, because having your entire worldview flipped.. that has the tendency of affecting people and how they interact with the world around them.

Thank you for asking! :D

[boneyspades]

GUYS I CANNOT HOLD IT IN ANYMORE I MUST TISM. I MUST RANT. I MUST EXPRESS MYSELF. I MUST GNAW MYSELF OUT OF MY ENCLOSURE

here are some of my Orange side ideas or predictions or whatever. now let me cook chat. (also I'm kinda just making this before the season finale cus Thomas said he was working on it

imma put a cw here for mentions of religion, so if you don't wanna see that then U don't have to read this lmao

ok so imma kinda categorise this in different categories I guess and I'll try my best to be short and sweet about it whilst also kinda just like... explain my reasoning? (edit: I failed. DW I highlighted the main points just in case U don't wanna read all that)

what I think the side represents

what he looks like(aesthetic?)

powers???

personality? what he's gon be like?

what's his intentions??

and idk just other things I think of on the way

What does this fuck head represent in Thomas?

I think this just goes without saying but like imma say Rage or Wrath. I remember these mfs on yt (can't remember the name) saying they predict it was gonna be rage and honestly it would be so fitting.

like fr, Logan literally SNAPPING at Remus cus he wasn't being listened to and his eyes TURNING ORANGE?

Thomas being MAD at Niko to the point where he was gonna UNALIVE THE FAKE NIKO that Remus conjured up to fuck with Thomas?!

THOMAS'S JUST BEING MAD AT NIKO IN GENERAL FOR NOT ANSWERING HIM?!?!

ROMAN AT THE END OF SVS REDUX?!?!?!? BITCH WE KNOW WHATS COMING!!!!!

its just UUUUUGH I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY BUT I LOVE THEIR INNER TURMOIL

how many stars am I gonna give him in dress to impress (aesthetics??? traits??? idk)

ok so I kinda was not quite sure about this one for a bit but then I remembered the dark sides, Remus and Janus's specifically (and I guess Patton too but like he's a "light" side but just hear me out) have had religion tied into them in some way; Janus kinda being inspired by the snake at the tree of life and even said himself "what am I doing here, am I the SNAKE COME TO TRICK YOU INTO SINNING?".(was gonna get video reference but apparently I can't have more than one video. sucks)

Remus is I guess religiously tied, using alot of religious language to mess with Thomas... like... alot...

Patton kinda just looks like a religious dad whose marriage is crumbling apart. but I think someone said that he also represents his Catholic guilt??? tho I could be wrong, I don't remember, but it fits considering he's literally the opposite of janus.

BUT ANYWAYS..... i think, clothing wise, orange could potentially dress as a priest??? or like a leader of a cult?? think robes and stuff. I mostly think of The One Who Waits from cult of the lamb or even the lamb itself since like... a the leader of the cult-... speaking of lambs. i think everyone's well aware that all the sides have a physical trait of some kind, something they take the form of I guess;

Logan= teacher

Roman= prince

Patton= dad

Virgil= (emo) spider? cat?? idk???

Janus= snake obvi

Remus= a duke and Cthulhu for some reason?

and now hear me out:

Orange= LAMB OR GOAT???!!!

correct me if I'm wrong but lambs and goats have been tied to religion alot (also I saw someone say lamb or goat as well and I think it would be so fucking cool), but if not, I have two other ideas... hear me out...

AN ANGEL?!?!

A BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL?!?!

NO CUS LIKE THEY LOOK SPOOKY ALREADY, IMAGINE IF LIKE HE WAS JUST OFF PUTTING PHYSICALLY AND PERSONALITY WISE. and also tying with with religion too

and the third, and this one is just cus I like robot characters BUT HEAR ME OUT! a specific genre of robot like GLaDOS from portal, AM from I have no mouth and I must scream (idk I haven't played the game), Cyn from murder drones, deviants in general from detroit become human. what do they have in common? (probably Ive only indulged in 3/4 medias mentioned)

FILLED. WITH. RAGE. OR. JUST. ABSOLUTELY. POWER. HUNGRY!!!!!

I feel like orange would be the mf to try and control all the sides. and just idk the fact that alot of these SciFi robot media have something to do with robots and are just filled with so much anger and hate for someone or people. idk just a silly thing I thought of.

what powers can this little bitch do

ok so I think everyone already knows that the sides have inhuman abilities (cus they aren't human but like anyways) like for example:

they can all shapeshift

they can mimic other peoples voices which I think is THE COOLEST THING EVER

they can I guess teleport??? does sinking down and rising up count as teleporting???

and I guess make Thomas see things that I guess aren't there? bitch idk

but I also do think that the sides all have INDIVIDUAL abilities only they can do:

janus can sense any lies coming from the sides (at least I think so)

Patton can turn into a frog for some reason? is there an explanation for that tho cus like?- (it's cool af tho)

I think Roman and Remus are the only ones that can conjure things up outside the MindPalace correct me if I'm wrong

Remus can give Thomas and the sides hallucinations or intrusive thoughts (cus... yk... that's what he is)

virgil can control SHADOWS?!? WHAT A FUCKING BADASS

Logan can speak through Thomas (like during Moving On part 2)

but what about orange you may ask. lets go over the obvious one first:

the ability to make a side let out any repressed anger I guess?

or I guess make a side get like... REALLY pissed off or something idk

I won't really go in depth with that one cus I think everyone knows that, but this next one I STRONGLY feel for. HERE ME OUT.

POSSESION.

now I think this will be different from how orange used his other power on Logan. BUT. the way I see it, I think that the orange side would have the ability to take FULL control of a side based on how much anger or negative feelings they're feeling, ykwim? and, now here me out, in return, kind of nullifies the effects that side has on Thomas. like for example, say Patton is all angy. bro is mayor of Angyvile. U went into an angy competition and you see Patton? you lost, bitch. anyways, the orange side, would have the ability to just be like possess him like a fucking demon. because of this, Thomas would feel less empathy, emotions, etc, because Patton is basically that. but I feel it'd look alot different than what we saw in WTIT, cus Logan was still in control of himself. but like I want it to look CREEPY AF. MAKE THEM DO SPOOKY THINGS, THOMAS. MAKE THEM LOOK POSSESSED, NOT THAT FUCKING "heh, finally. feels so good to be free 🐺😈💪💔⛓️" NO. MAKE THEM LOOK LIKE THEY'VE GOT SATAN CONTROLLING THAT BITCH. I WANT MORE SPOOKY. I also think he'd use this ability on Logan the most for obvious reasons

personality or something idk

alright so I feel like this one will be alot shorter than my other points, but personality wise... I WANT HIM TO BE A FUCKING ASSHOLE. I WANT HIM TO BE MEAN. I WANT HIM TO BE TERRIFYING, PSYCHOLOGICALLY.

I want him to be SO FUCKING MANIPULATIVE DAWG. i literally think that wrath could be the leader of the dark sides and be the one that makes Virgil (pre AA), Remus and even Janus fall for a fake sense of security whilst also using them for his personal gain and his personal gain ALONE. I want him to be a terrifying side, cus yeah, the dark sides are scary but they've been proven to not be as scary as they seem:

virgil (pre AA) was always seen as scary but even in the episode with Superwoman (aka his first appearance) it's shown that he is easy to manage. and even during and after AA, all he wanted was to protect Thomas and help him. he was just basically misunderstood

Janus is a kinda harder one to explain, but I guess its similar to virgil. all he wanted was Thomas to do something for himself (go to the callback) and practice self care, but because he is the embodiment of Deceit, he kinda just is seen as a purely bad thing. Thomas says it say better at the end of SVS redux.

Remus I feel is alot different. he's a fucking asshole cus he wants to be, he's not all "I want Thomas to just be happy and I want to do what's best for him" NO. he wants to make Thomas's life HELL, or just turn him into a professional people opener. BUT, in DWIT, Logan has proven that Intrusive thoughts can be dealt with and that they're not as scary as Thomas thinks.

I want orange to be so terrifying as a concept that not even Logan can make an argument where Thomas can deal with him. I want him to be so fucking bad that not even Patton wants to be his friend. but like make him a silly guy :) (also I feel like the orange side and Remus would be besties)

what does this bitch WAAAANT

ok so this one will be quite short. but I feel like the orange side would want Thomas to live a life where he takes revenge on the people who have wronged him. maybe try to make Thomas into a professional people opener. that's why I think orange and Remus would get along so well. if rage blinds morality and logic, then Intrusive thoughts can become reality. thats what I think at least. I feel like the orange side would try and trap the other sides and repress them somehow, except Remus and Janus.

ok that's it

[windcarvedlyre]

Apparently this line was actually about Komaeda's personal hygiene, not his general looks.*

"Komaeda cares about hygiene" canon. I knew it.

*Nevermind, see here! Second point still canon though.