#and that he recognizes them as being specifically his fans

[pamwritessometimes]

The Great Invasion: Chapter 1

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: In a world turned upside down, where monsters hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good.

General warnings: dark themes, gore, kind of apocalyptic vibes, language

Chapter warnings: mentions of murders of hunters, horrible description of a fight, kidnapping, demons being demons, captivity.

Theme song of the chapter: Champion by Barns Courtney

Series masterlist

Chapter 1: The Hunter Games

The stadium was packed like it was Super Bowl night and Taylor Swift was about to perform at the halftime show. The air was littered with different kinds of noises, laughing, heckling, betting, heated debates over who’d win this match. Names were chanted aggressively all around the field, bets were shouted across the aisles. From a distance it looked like any massive sports event, even sounded like one.

Just one friendly match…

But upon taking a closer glance one could see it wasn’t a regular game, not by any means.

Those seats weren’t filled with your standard-issue fans.

No, these spectators were monsters in every sense of the word. Ghosts floated uneasily above the cheap and creaky seats like they were haunted by the idea of proper lumbar support. Ghouls gnawed on concessions — and occasionally on each other — while witches cackled from different corners like it was open mic night at a coven comedy club. Werewolves let loose howls at random, probably to remind everyone they were there, and demons? Well, demons were the VIPs, lounging like they owned the joint…. Because let’s be honest, they actually did.

All of them packed the stadium to watch the same spectacle: humans fighting for their lives.

It was a standard form of entertainment now, events like this. Humans, hunters, more specifically, trying to fight for their lives.

And monsters ate up the whole event, not being ashamed of their monsterness. In a chaos like this, anyone could mingle, blend in.

This was the first thing she noticed and was fathomlessly grateful for. Since The Great Invasion, she rarely left the walls of the only safe place she could find, and with good reason. Even now she wore a dark green cloak pulled tight and sunglasses perched firmly on her nose. The kind of low profile look that ironically screamed, I don’t want to be noticed!

But so far, it worked. No one seemed to recognize her, and she intended to keep it that way.

Once seated, she tuned into a nearby conversation.

“Eighty-eight wins! Can you believe it?” a demon behind her said, his voice dripping with excitement.

“Don’t care” grunted another. “She doesn’t look like much. Probably just lucky.”

“She’s more than lucky, idiot. She was one of them. A real hunter. Ya know, back before we took over?”

“Yeah? So what? All of them down there are. She ain’t special. I’m betting she’s done for tonight.”

Rowena smirked faintly to herself. This was the right place, then.

Y/N was here.

Down on the field, the coordinator strutted out, a smarmy grin plastered across his face and a ridiculous suit clinging to his body. He raised his hands, and the crowd hushed in an instant, sensing the greatest shitshow of entertainment was about to begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, fiends and freaks…” he began, pausing just long enough to milk the moment, “Welcome to the Second Hunter Games!”

It made Rowena cringe a bit; it felt like a tacky attempt to imitate human pop culture, but the crowd seemed to eat it up.

“As you all know” the announcer continued, “this is where the tables turned. We’re the hunters now, and they” he pointed smugly toward the cages at the edge of the arena where ten poor ragged humans huddled, “are the prey. Let’s see if they’ve got what it takes to entertain us, shall we?”

The crowd erupted again and the announcer basked in the spotlight.

The games began with the first hunter shoved onto the field like a lamb to slaughter on its birthday. He was tall, mid-twenties at most, but he had the look of someone who’d already given up. And let’s be real, he probably truly had. His opponent was a standard werewolf, if werewolves could be called normal. The creature took him down in less than five minutes. The crowd cheered but only half-heartedly during the first round. 

They weren’t here for warm-ups.

One by one, the hunters went out. Some tried to fight, others tried to talk. One even tried a heartfelt speech about unity and coexistence — he didn’t make it past “coex—” before a wendigo clamped down on his skull. The audience howled with laughter, blood spattering the arena floor like confetti.

Panem et circenses.

Finally, the energy shifted after the ninth round.

Here comes the main event.

The announcer strutted back to the center of the field, his grin somehow stretching even wider and smug enough to suggest he was about to introduce King Charles to a stadium full of overly enthusiastic Brits.

“And now” he drawled, stretching every syllable like he was getting paid by the second, “the match you’ve all been waiting for! Our reigning champion. The hunter who’s racked up more monster kills than you’ve had hot meals. Eighty-eight wins across countless blood-soaked battles. A walking nightmare for anything with fangs or claws. The only reason she’s not still out there handing you all your asses on a silver platter is… well, someone got to her first.”

The crowd roared with laughter.

“Give it up for the one, the only… Y/N Y/L/N!”

Rowena’s eyes were glued to the field, her anticipation was running high and it seemed like for a moment even Earth stopped turning. She heard a ton about you, some seemingly far-fetched anecdotes about the only hunter who could make it this far in this world. Just thinking about it, a strange feeling tugged at his heart.

Then you stepped out into the arena.

And for a second, Rowena hesitated, even looked crestfallen almost.

Her? This plain-looking thing? 

Was this the great champion she’d been sent to find, or were Jack and the trench coat baby just shitting her? Was she the one she was strangely excited to see?

Your appearance didn’t scream legendary hunter nor acclaimed champion, just… a plain ole regular hunter. Your hair was thrown into a sloppy ponytail and you wore a basic black tank top under a khaki jacket that looked more functional than fashionable. The only things that were new were your boots, but that seemed more like a perk of your status than an actual necessity.

However, for some reason, you didn’t have that desperate, hunted look that clung to the others’ faces. 

Then your opponent stepped into view and the crowd fell silent. 

He was tall, broad and built like a marble statue from afar, his every movement a study in control and power — like seeing a perfectly executed villain performance in a Broadway musical. His jawline could have cut glass and his eyes were cold enough to freeze it. He was dressed in all black, looking more like an assassin sent from the upper echelons of Hell than a combatant. Even his walk wasn’t just a walk. It was a declaration: he wasn’t here to fight. He was here to win.

Rowena watched as you faced him. No dramatic pose, no fear, just you, standing there, calm and almost… bored. Meanwhile, the guy smirked, already acting like he’d won.

The whole thing felt strange.

The crowd was a mess of cheers and jeers, half rooting for you, half betting you’d finally crash and burn. But Rowena noticed the phlegm in your eyes and your suppressed confidence that didn’t match the plain outfit you were rocking on the outside.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that you had something up your sleeves.

Then, the bell rang. 

The man lunged first but you sidestepped his hand and his attack sliced through empty air. It was all for a show, really. Any match like this was. You knew it, your opponent knew it, the whole arena knew it.

This is not how you fight a demon.

But that’s what the crowd wanted and that’s what they are getting. A circus.

The audience gasped as you landed a swift, clean jab to his ribs. It wasn’t a heavy hit but it was precise enough to make him (or rather his vessel) flinch.

Your opponent circled you, his smirk widening, but there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes now. He was used to fights that ended fast and messy, but you weren’t giving him that satisfaction.

He lunged again and this time you were ready. A subtle flick of your wrist sent a splash of liquid from a hidden vial straight onto his hand. The faint sizzle that followed was drowned out by the crowd’s cheers but Rowena saw it and so did he. His smirk faltered, just for a moment.

Holy water.

Rowena’s lips twitched into a smirk.

There she is. 

She had no idea how you managed to keep holy water on you (smuggled it, stashed it, conjured it, got it, who knew?) and she couldn’t understand why the other hunters hadn’t done the same. Could they not? But one thing was crystal clear: you weren’t here to lose.

The fight went on but calling it a fight feels generous. To be fair, you were running the show. You moved like you’d choreographed the whole thing beforehand, because you dodged his strikes like you knew everything was going to happen.

And all the while, you were muttering something under your breath.

Rowena tilted her head, her ears catching the sound with some magical help. Latin.

Her grin spread wide.

An exorcism. Clever little thing.

You weren’t just fighting him but you were dismantling him piece by piece.

Your opponent’s movements grew sloppier as his vessel started to reject him by your ancient words. Each syllable you muttered chipped away at his hold and every dodge, every counterstrike added to his frustration. The crowd thought he was just losing steam, but Rowena knew better. 

You were breaking him from the inside out.

Then came his final, and just as desperate charge. He lunged at you without actually realizing how clumsy his punch was. You dodged easily, stepping out of the way like it was nothing. This time, your voice got louder, the words now audible even to the crowd:

“…ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.”

That was it. His body jerked violently, a guttural scream tearing from his throat as thick black smoke poured out of his mouth. The vessel dropped to the ground, staying limp and seemingly lifeless. You just hoped the human was alright.

You stood there, brushing off your hands like you’d just finished a chore not a fight to the death. Rowena leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs with a look that screamed satisfaction while her red lips curled into a sly grin.

Maybe she isn't as fragile as I thought so.

You hadn’t just won, you’d also put on one hell of a show.

And in this world, where blood and spectacle ruled that was what mattered most.

Sunlight poured through the long red curtains, spilling a golden glow across the pearly white walls of your room. It was the kind of quiet beauty you’d never taken the time to notice and bask in before.

Your dad’s voice echoed in your head: It’s the little things that count. Back then, you’d dismissed it as sentimental fluff people spouted when life was falling apart. But now, sitting in this room that was yours, but not quite yours, you got it.

Because everything had fallen apart. Or maybe it was better to say it had been shattered. And now, the only thing you had left were the little things. The way the light slanted just so or how you could still catch the tail-end of a sunset through your window, even in this messed-up new world.

It wasn’t always like this. You still remembered a time before The Great Invasion, even though it felt like a lifetime ago. It hadn’t been that long, though. Maybe two years? Who knew anymore? The calendar didn’t matter when monsters were in charge and time itself felt like a joke.

The knock at the door broke the stillness and your thoughts’ overflow. You glanced at the clock. 

Six p.m. already. 

The door creaked open, and in walked Rommer, your suite’s assigned waiter, carrying a tray. His hands were a bit shaky and his posture was stiff but he still managed to hold onto that old-fashioned professional air. Well, mostly, since the tension in his eyes betrayed him: He was scared. Not that you blamed him. You were scared, too.

Rommer had been working here at the Mandarin Oriental long before the monsters took over, so he knew how to fake calm when it mattered. But the truth was in his eyes: he was human, just like you. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of the kind of life you could’ve had. What other kind of slave you could have ended up as.

He was a little grounding point in your life. The only presence you felt somewhat safe around. The only one that somewhat understood you here.

The little things.

Once or twice, you even tried to make him stay just a bit longer, just to talk and exchange more than five words. You were desperate for human contact, even for just getting to know his first name, but he didn’t seem to be a partner in your little attempt — his rigid posture and tight lips a clear indication of that.

But again, you couldn’t blame him.

Anyone would be tense and terrified if a demon billionaire essentially held them hostage.

It was strange, this life of luxury you were given. A room in a five-star hotel with all the trimmings and a staff that treated you like some lower level royalty. By all accounts, it should have been a dream. But dreams didn’t come with the kind of shadows that stuck to every step you took.

“Evening, Miss Y/L/N” he said, setting the tray down in front of you. Not silver, of course.

“Evening” you replied and offered him a slight smile despite the oddity of the entire situation. 

“The usual” he nodded at the plate of perfectly cooked steak and vegetables.

You thanked him and stared at him like he was the eighth wonder of the world… assuming the other seven were still standing.

He hesitated, as if about to say something, but he decided not to. His eyes flicked toward the door where the demon guard stood, watching rather indiscreetly. With a quick bow, Rommer left without saying another unnecessary word.

You stared at the tray, the smell of the food wafting up to you. It was good. It was always good. But somehow it never quite tasted right. It wasn’t the flavor, nor the texture, nor the temperature. Maybe it was because no matter how fancy the room, no matter how golden the sunlight, you couldn’t forget the truth.

This wasn’t freedom. This was a gilded cage.

Still, it was the only way to stay alive… And better than a life spent running forever.

Dean was in his element. A wide, open garage with all the tools he could ever need. It was way better than the bunker’s setup. His hands were covered in grease as he leaned over the Impala, carefully tweaking something under the hood. Honestly, he didn’t care who to thank, Jack, Cas, or the afterlife fairy, just as long as Baby was here with him.

Fixing her up wasn’t exactly thrilling, but it was steady work. Something simple. Something he loved. Something that brought him peace.

Metallica blared from somewhere, though he had no idea where. Heaven magic, probably, since he’d never seen a stereo in this place. Not that he was complaining.

Maybe it was the afterlife thing, but there was no rush here. No monsters to kill, no apocalyptic prophecies to stop. Just the hum of the engine and the whiskey-smooth riffs of Whiskey in the Jar keeping him company.

It was nice.

He could feel the presence of someone appearing in the background, but he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Sammy, hope you found a few glasses of cold ‘cause I’m running out here” he said, still focused under the hood of his car.

"Hi, Dean."

It wasn’t the voice he expected. Dean straightened up, glancing toward the garage door. There, standing in the sunlight with hands shoved in his pockets, was Jack.

Dean blinked, staring for a moment. It’s been a while since he saw the kid. Jack was still… very much Jack. He looked just as young as before somehow, still nothing like a god… more like a kid just stopping by to say hello. 

And as much as he wanted to hope this was just a casual visit, a “hey, how’s it going, maybe drink a beer or two” Dean couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t that simple. After all, Jack was the most powerful creature in the universe now — was it weird to want to grab a beer with him?

“Jack” Dean wiped his hands off again, eyeing Jack with a half-smile. “What’s up? You’re not here for a good time, are you? Because I gotta tell ya, I’m on a roll with this carburetor.”

Jack’s eyes flashed with something uncharacteristically serious and Dean’s gut twisted at the sight. Shit. If Jack was showing up here on a peaceful, lazy forever-afternoon, it had to be for a reason.

Dean straightened. “Let me guess… If the big guy himself is here, it’s gotta be an emergency, right?”

“It’s kind of an emergency.” Jack nodded.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Jack took a step forward, and just when Dean thought he’d get a straight answer, the kid held out his hand. A flash of glowing light flickered, and bam, Sam was suddenly standing there in front of them, a pack of beer in his hand, blinking like he’d just been yanked out of whatever peaceful afterlife he’d been enjoying in Heaven.

Well, he was heading this way anyway.

“Huh?” Dean blinked, half-amused and half-confused.

Sam rubbed his eyes, still processing what had just happened. “What’s going on, Dean?” Then his eyes ended on the kid. “Jack? Hey, how—“

Jack didn’t waste time answering, cutting him off. “We need you both. Something’s going on back on Earth. We gotta go to the bunker. Cas is already there.”

It was well past your usual lights-out when you heard a chopped Latin chant. You bolted upright in bed, the satin of your pajama top slipping off one shoulder as you fumbled for the first object within arm’s reach: your bedside lamp.

Damn Barbas. Of course, that bastard wouldn’t let you keep a single weapon for protection. Why would he? Keeping you helpless was part of his twisted game, though you weren’t precisely sure what that game was. Vessel or not, you loathed every inch of him, including that smug, sadistic face of his.

Your eyes scanned the dimly lit room, and it didn’t take long to spot a flashing light flickering in and out in the middle of your suite’s plush carpet.

“What the hell?” you muttered, freezing in place.

Someone had just teleported into your five-star hotel room.

Teleported. Not walked, not snuck in, teleported. No human could pull that off. And with all the layers of magic and muscle guarding this place, no low-tier spell-slinger should’ve been able to either.

As the last remnants of the shimmering magic faded, a figure emerged, a woman from what you could see, her back to you. She wore a dark cloak, though strands of red hair slipped out messily from beneath the hood.

“Oh, dear, you couldn’t have been more precise” her Scottish tone rang out.

Your grip tightened on the lamp as she turned. Rowena MacLeod. The ex-Queen of Hell herself. Your pulse spiked, adrenaline flooding your veins as your mind raced with all the reasons to hate her. Maybe she hadn’t masterminded The Great Invasion, but she’d failed to stop it. Hell’s gates had burst open on her watch, and the world had paid the price.

“Don’t look at me like that, dear” Rowena said, brushing a stray lock of red hair from her face. “We don’t have much time. I see you recognise me, that’s great. Saves me a lot of trouble.”

“How the hell did you get in here?” You narrowed your eyes, heart pounding in your chest.

Rowena sighed dramatically, folding her arms across her chest. “No time for that little debate club. I’m here to save your hide.”

“Save me? Excuse my ass if it doesn't believe the former Queen of Hell.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Yes, my résumé does tend to precede me. But I assure you, I’m quite serious. Your little fortress of luxury here?” She gestured around the room with a dismissive wave. “It’s about to be less... secure.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked as your grip on the lamp was firm as ever. “And why would you wanna save me?”

"Well, let’s just say the ex-Queen of Hell has her ways. I’ve been keeping tabs on you since the Games. You… are quite the showstopper, dear.”

“That still doesn't answer my question.”

She tilted her head. "Well, this place is guarded, almost as much as the hideout I’m about to take you to. And to your misfortune, I couldn’t get past the gates without notice."

The implication hung in the air. “You…”

“I know, I know, I'm a piece of garbage, yes, you can let it all out later. But right now, I advise you to get out of that California king and let me get you out of here before your not-so-lovely captors arrive” she said, her voice dropping an octave and with that all traces of sarcasm was gone. “Unless you’d rather face them on your own. I’d love to see their expressions when they figure you let me in. After all, you’re not exactly on the friendliest terms with them, are you? And I have a feeling they will jump to conclusions about me being here.”

Your eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t just put you in an impossible situation, she’d made it worse than you could have ever imagined. If Barbas’ guards noticed her slipping through the magically guarded gates, and you were damn sure they had, they were already on their way. And if they found the two of you together in ‘your’ room? You might as well write your own obituary. Forget reasoning with them. You were already on dangerously thin ice with Barbas and his crew. Seeing you in this situation would be all the justification they needed.

No second chances. No questions asked. Just the sharp click of triggers being pulled.

No championship would make them listen to you. You weren’t important to them, not really. All they cared about was your skills and the reputation they could leverage from it. You were just a tool in their game, nothing more

The words barely left her mouth when a loud thud echoed in outside from the hallway. Your heart jumped into your throat as Rowena turned her head toward the noise.

“Well, that would be them” she said. “No time for debate, am I right?”

Before you could process what was happening, Rowena’s hands were moving, her fingers weaving through the air in fluid motions. You barely had time to protest when the air around you shimmered and the world around you vanished with a gut-wrenching lurch.

“Y/N! You little piece of shit!” Barbas’ voice thundered through the room, shaking the very walls as he and his entourage of guards stormed in and ripping the door off its hinges like it was a cheap piece of cardboard from a bargain bin as they did.

His eyes scanned the room with the intensity of a bloodhound on a hunt. The bed was empty and there was still a faint shimmer in the air jaut above the plush carpet in the center. Barbas’ jaw clenched so tightly one could hear the bones grinding together.

One of the guards (probably the one that drew the shorter straw) stammered, “There’s no s-sign of her, sir. She’s... g-gone. W-with Rowena M-MacLeod.”

Barbas’ fist collided with the nightstand with enough force to rattle the room. The wood groaned under the impact. “Find them. Now,” he barked, his eyes seething with rage as they flicked over his guards.

That anyone he implied was a very specific someone that can’t know Barbas messed this up.

When the swirling magic cleared, you were standing in a dimly lit room that smelled faintly of dust, gunpowder and old books.

“What the—?” you stumbled forward, clutching your stomach as the nausea of teleportation hit you like a truck.

Shit, I shouldn’t have eaten all that steak.

“Welcome to your new home” Rowena said with a flourish, already brushing herself off as if nothing had happened.

“You can’t just—” you groaned, doubling over slightly. “I can’t believe you just did this!”

“Oh, no need for dramatics” she said. “You’ll feel better in a moment. And you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” you snapped and you stood upright despite the dizziness. “You just fucking kidnapped me!”

“Oh, please” She scoffed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “If I hadn’t, you’d be in a demon’s stew pot by now.”

“Which you caused!”

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing from deeper within this strange yet seemingly enormous building. Your heart skipped a beat and you turned toward the noise, tense and ready for anything.

Mostly for throwing a few punches.

A tall man in a beige, worn trench coat appeared from one of the doorways.

He paused and took a long look at the both of you, his expression was almost completely stoic but you could see a hint of some stress and worry buried deep within.

“You made it back” he said to Rowenaz then his attention shifted to you. “I see you found her. Hello, Y/N. My name’s Castiel. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Next on The Great Invasion (Sneak Peek from Chapter 2)

Guns N’ Roses blasted through your headphones, drowning out every thought except the music. You made it your mission to listen to every cassette tape you found in the boxes. By the time you hit cassette number three’s flip side, the music was doing its job at making you feel a bit calmer a little too well. Your eyelids got heavier with every riff and before you knew it, you’d dozed off against the headboard. 

The music was loud enough to block out the creak of the door opening but not the voice that followed.

“Why’s there a chick in my room?” a gruff voice demanded. A pause. Then louder, like the words were physically offensive: “Listening to my damn tapes? Wearing my damn clothes?”

Maybe that last part didn’t bother him as much as the rest, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He was too busy scowling and reminding himself that this room, his room, was supposed to be his sanctuary. Instead, here you were, in his flannel, looking entirely too cozy and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but also borderline irresistible for someone squatting in his space.

Or was this Jack’s way of saying, Sorry I yanked you out of Heaven, but hey, thanks for agreeing to help me clean up yet another apocalyptic mess!?

Because if so—

Congratulations, hunter, you made it this far! Welcome to the bunker.🤭

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the Great Invasion! AndI also hope you buckled your seat belts because we are going to have a wild ride, I tell you.

Can’t wait to read your thoughts on this!!

xx Pam

Chapter 2: I Just Want A Little Peace Of Mind (coming soon!)

🤍Series taglist🤍

@thebiggerbear @spnaquakindgdom

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@roseblue373

[petit-papillion]

Charles and his banana suit fans...

Beat the Challenge | Released 18 December 2023

🎥 leclercsletters

"Sometimes I see some bananas in the grandstand..."

Banana Gang at 2022 Mexico Grand Prix

📸 Reddit

[shidoukanae]

Hello to the Buddyfight fandom it's been a hot minute but god do i miss this show and have been making fanart for it in the background so i thought i'd post to tumblr too ^^

I swear every year I end up coming back to this show and wishing that it kept going, that it got rebooted, that i could just erase my memories of this show and just watch it all over again from the beginning to enjoy everything once again from Tasuku's own sense of justice twisting against him to Gao's suffering of PTSD and how heartfelt it was handled.

There's something very special about this show that I haven't been able to find replicated elsewhere. It has the most perfect world to exist (so much so that i'd love to be isekai'd into it if i could!!!) and while i have my own gripes with it (hi S3+) i honestly sometimes wish i could go back to my high school years of watching this show just to relive it all again :'D

Anyways!!! I hope there's still people out there who enjoy this show even ten years later who'll like seeing new funny artwork for it!

I wanna add too that i'm hoping to create a rewrite of FCBF (ft. seasons 1-3 + Ace) or at least create more artwork for my interpretation of it and its world!

Because, sincerely, this show is one of the few that, for all its flaws, hasn't disappointed me in the years that've followed unlike many other things i've seen and i wanna try to keep the spirit of it alive while I can thanks to that. And if there are any fans still in existence who love it, i wanna provide some food while its once again in my orbit because damn do i adore this show <3 <3 <#

[prickly-paprikash]

Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.

Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.

2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.

Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.

N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.

And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.

Drake is none of that.

He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.

Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.

2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.

N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.

50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.

Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.

I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.

Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.

@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.

[vasilissadragomir]

people often use snow’s experiences with lucy gray as an explanation for how he engages with katniss, but i think that the true story of his downfall lies not in how lucy gray and katniss are similar, but rather in how they are different.

snow knew that it was never him that made the games what they are. it was lucy gray, with her scrappy, passionate artistry, that put on the show that kept people watching. more importantly, it was lucy gray that put on the show that kept HIM watching. all he ever did was give her the stage.

ergo, snow recognizes that the person with the power to usurp him is his natural counterpart, someone like lucy gray, who possessed both the charisma and humanity that he sorely lacks. however, in his mind, those traits are not real; they’re performed in order to obtain power. how could he know better, when he’s never experienced them himself, and the only person he ever truly believed possessed them betrayed him?

so snow keeps his eye out for performers, people with gravitas who could capture the heart of the nation, and squashes their spark as soon as he can. people like haymitch. people like finnick.

and that’s where snow goes wrong. he doesn’t see katniss’ similarities to lucy gray from the start, because while they both demonstrate astonishing, intriguing bravery at their reapings, their actions and motivations are completely different. lucy gray is motivated to perform by anger for herself, and katniss is motivated to sacrifice herself by fear for her sister.

but then katniss starts to put on a show for the audience, kissing peeta and being willing to die with the berries at the end of the 74th games. snow starts to see an entirely different side of katniss that resembles lucy gray to a concerning degree. he sees how, with peeta at her side, she could beguile the nation the same way lucy gray had. and, even worse, she was using the poor, helpless boy who had the misfortune of falling in love with her to survive. the moment katniss started performing, he finally sees lucy gray within her. but it’s already too late.

by catching fire, katniss is the spark fanning the flames of the resistance, but snow fails to understand why. as far as he’s concerned, katniss’ star power comes from her connection to peeta. he tries to weaponize their “love” for his own gain, but it doesn’t work, not because people don’t believe that she loves peeta, but because, for the first time, a victor offers their winnings to the family of a fallen tribute.

snow is caught in a catch 22 of seneca crane’s making—if he kills katniss, she becomes a martyr. but if he lets her live, she’ll be a revolutionary icon. either way, she’s the spark. so he has no choice but to allow the spark to flicker, just for a little while. enter the 75th games. snow knows he needs katniss to die a tragic death in the games. more specifically, he needs it to be a brutal death at the hands of a tribute, not the gamemakers, because he understands that as long as the districts see the capitol as the one who ended the life of katniss everdeen, she’ll still be a martyr.

but snow still doesn’t get it. in the quarter quell, the prey does not become predator. katniss’ allies protect her, ensuring she survives until district 13 rescues her. why would they protect this girl, assuming such a steep personal risk? why would they put everything on the line for a revolution they personally stand to benefit little from? he doesn’t know. but he does know that lucy gray katniss is at the center of it all, so he tries to eliminate what makes her look best: peeta.

and that is snow’s fatal mistake. what he, coin, and everyone but haymitch fail to understand is that it was never peeta that made katniss look good—it was katniss, who befriended and put faith in rue. katniss, who recruited mags, wiress, and beetee as allies. she is the source of revolutionary inspiration. it isn’t her charisma or even her compassion, and it certainly isn’t how well she performed those virtues.

katniss becomes the mockingjay because of her solidarity.

lucy gray was charismatic, like peeta, and compassionate, like both peeta and katniss, but she did not demonstrate solidarity. she was never truly “district” in the way katniss is. she showed kindness to jessup, not because he was from 12, but because he showed kindness to her. lucy gray left behind everything and everyone she loved when she left coriolanus, because she was first and foremost a survivor.

katniss was a survivor her whole life, but she survives exclusively to ensure the people she loves are protected. she always does what she can for people more vulnerable than herself. lucy gray couldn’t have sparked a revolution on her own because she lacked the solidarity that makes a hope for a better future authentic to others. katniss is the human manifestation of solidarity, and to a people divided by a common enemy, that’s the most inspiring thing a person can be.

only in the end, when katniss shoots coin, does snow realize none of it was a performance. choking on the blood of his countless adversaries, snow’s final moments are consumed by what he got wrong. what made lucy gray and katniss different ends his reign, but ironically, the final nail in his coffin is an act that both lucy gray and katniss share in their last moments with snow. they both prove, unequivocally, that he is not the center of their worlds like they are his. lucy gray put her own survival before her love for him, and katniss puts the future of her nation before her hate for him. in the end, he simply doesn’t matter. and that’s greater justice than could have ever been achieved if katniss had fired her arrow into his heart.

the greatest enemy to coriolanus snow could only be the person who reignited the embers of a dying revolutionary fire, who demonstrated to a broken people that while one spark alone might not be enough, thousands of sparks uniting in solidarity is an unbeatable force.

and really, he should have known better. after all, even when snow lands on top, fire melts snow.

[willowsnook]

Let me in

Hi! Love your idea for a prompt list. Can I order: A turkey swiss on wheat bread, maybe mike’s way if you feel like it’s fitting for the sandwich?

Joe burrow x bsf!reader

Please don’t leave

—-----------------------------------------

Fall in Cincinnati was something that you loved. The trees changed colors, you could start leaving your windows open, and, of course, Bengals football. Now, you’d never claim that you were a die-hard fan, that was still reserved for your beloved Green Bay Packers, but after 5 years in the city, they were a solid 2nd favorite. Plus, being good friends with the starting quarterback meant you had to root for them. 

You met Joe at a charity event a year after you moved to Ohio. Working for a Cincinnati-specific lifestyle magazine, your recommendations and reviews had made you quite well known in the city. Your strategy was always finding small, hidden gem places, usually family-owned, to review and elevate. This fulfilled your need to make a difference and also get paid to eat food. 

While your job was so public and in the spotlight, you were pretty introverted, which surprised a lot of people. You didn’t necessarily enjoy being the center of attention, focusing more on making those around you shine. This meant that while you were appreciative of being recognized by the community, you hated going to big events; you’d much rather just be writing about them. 

So when the introverted star of Cincinnati joined you in the shadows of an event, the two of you hit it off. Knowing who you were, his PR team had noticed and pitched a content series involving Joe. You spent a whole day with him, going to places he recommended and giving instant reviews. Initially, you were worried about it being awkward because you didn’t know him well, but you both had a blast. Joe was easy to talk to, and he liked that you treated him like anyone else. 

After that, he’d invited you to hang out with his friends several times, and Ja’marr really liked you, insisting that you be added to the friend group. Since then, you’d spent the last couple of years being forced to go to every home Bengals game, but you could also easily force one of them to help you with some kind of content for work. A mutually beneficial friendship you thought. 

Midway through the week, you were back at your apartment, taking pictures of some cookies someone sent you to be considered for an upcoming article you were writing. You snapped the perfect picture just as your phone rang, and you looked over to see it was Joe calling. 

“What’s up?” You said, putting the phone on speaker. 

“I’m bored. Can I come hang?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m doing some work, but I’ll be done soon.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.” 

You were used to Joe calling you randomly to hang out, especially when the season was going poorly. One thing you learned in your years of friendship with him was that he didn’t like to be alone, mostly so he didn’t spiral thinking about everything. You were happy to be a friend he could lean on. 

15 minutes later, you heard your front door open and smiled as Joe wandered into the kitchen. He gave you a small squeeze from behind as you leaned over your laptop. 

“Are you doing anything with these?” He asked, and you looked over at the cookies. 

“No, I just got done. Have at it,” you replied, amused as he shoveled one into his mouth. 

“These are pretty good,” he said, swallowing. “But I’ve had better.”

“Hmm,” you thought. “What don’t you like about them?”

“Too grainy,” he said, and you agreed, unable to think of what you were feeling. 

“That’s a good point; I’m using that,” you said, typing it down in your notes. 

“Watch out, I’m going to steal your job,” he joked, and you smirked. 

“Does that mean I get yours?”

“You’d probably do a better job than me right now,” he said, and you frowned, shutting your laptop. 

“You are still a superstar, even when you lose,” you told him earnestly, getting a small smile from him. 

“I think I need you with a headset on to tell me that during the games,” he said, and you laughed. 

“Yeah yeah,” you replied, blushing. “Want to take a walk or something? I need to get out of the house.” 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you walked down the street and ventured towards the water, chatting about upcoming events and his family coming to visit. You started to get chilly and held your arms briefly before Joe noticed. He pulled his hoodie off with one hand and handed it to you, not even stopping what he was saying. You pulled it on, inhaled the lingering cologne, and sighed. 

“Will you come to dinner with us tomorrow night?” he asked, jolting you back to reality.

“With your parents?” you asked, and he nodded. “Would that not be a little weird?”

“Why would it be weird?” 

“I don't know. I just wouldn’t want them to think we were dating or anything,” you said, confused. Joe frowned at that, but you didn’t have time to analyze it. 

“Ja’marr is coming too,” he said. “You are both my best friends, so I’d like you to meet them.” 

“Okay, if it’s important to you,” you agreed, giving in. Dinner with Joe’s parents. Huh. Sometimes you really didn’t understand why he chose you as a best friend when many people were fighting over it. If only people knew how clingy Mr. Cool was. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Ja’Marr picked you up from your place the next night and the two of you headed to dinner. 

“You look nice,” he commented, and you smiled. You and Ja’Marr had a flirty relationship, but nothing had ever come of it. One time, when you were both very drunk in the offseason, you had made out but it didn’t last long with him backing out, saying that Joe was going to kill him. You had just assumed that Joe didn’t want anyone in the friend group dating in case it got messy, which was understandable. With Ja’marr, you were mostly just attracted to him vs. wanting something more. 

“I still feel weird about this whole thing,” you admitted to him and he gave you a lazy smirk. 

“Please, they’ll love you,” he assured you. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about; I’m amazing,” you said, causing him to laugh. “I just think it’s weird and intimate. Like if my parents were in town, yeah, maybe I wouldn’t mind them meeting you guys at the game or to celebrate in a group after. But I wouldn’t invite you for a small dinner.” 

Ja’Marr gave you a look you couldn’t decipher before laughing to himself. 

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

The restaurant was a nicer one that you had been to before for work. Joe’s parents stood up as you approached the table and warmly greeted you. His mom pulled you into a tight hug, laughing about how excited she was to meet you finally. You shot Ja’Marr a look and found him trying not to laugh. You could tell Joe was embarrassed, which made the situation a little amusing. 

Sitting down beside him, he gave you an easy smile while handing you the drink menu. Joe’s dad jumped into conversation with Ja’Marr about the season while Robin asked you a ton of questions about your job and basically your whole life. You ended up loving his parents; they were the sweetest people. While you might have missed the way that Joe was looking at you the whole dinner, his parents definitely did not. 

“It was so good to meet you y/n,” Robin gushed. “I’m sure we’ll see much more of you in the future.” 

You smiled, confused, while Ja’Marr couldn’t hold back his laugh. Joe’s face turned bright red and his dad chuckled. 

—------------------------------------------------

If you had thought the season was going poorly before it was a million times worse now. It seemed like each week, your two friends were putting up superstar numbers but still losing. After watching them lose by just a point to the Ravens, you clicked the TV off and sighed. Reaching for your phone you texted him a white heart and watched him read it and not reply. He usually would, even after a loss, but this one was tough so you didn’t pay much mind to it. 

As the week went on, you started to feel Joe’s tension about the team bleed into your friendship. He wasn’t answering your calls and had replied to any text you had sent him with just one word. What had really pissed you off though, was that he was supposed to shoot a Thanksgiving promo with you about places that provided free food for those who needed it and he didn’t show. 

“I get that you’re having a tough time right now and while I can live with you being a bad friend I can’t live with you 1. making me look bad professionally and 2. disappointing people making a difference. So give me a call when you figure your shit out,” you ranted to his voicemail. 

You were supposed to fly out for the game this weekend but weren’t sure if you still should. Calling Ja’Marr, you complained about Joe being a dick and that you didn’t know what to do. He assured you that you should still come and that Joe was just hurting because of the season. The best thing you could do was be there for him, even in the shadows. 

The game started out horribly with it being 24-6 leading into halftime. But a different team came out in the third quarter, and you went crazy as the Bengals got ahead. But like the week before, no matter what Joe did, even throwing for over 350 yards, they still lost in the end. You lingered by the locker room after the game and smiled sadly as you saw Ja’Marr first. He wrapped you in a hug, and he was happy to have you there. Joe on the other hand, did not look happy to see you. 

“What are you doing here?” he said coldly, and both you and Ja’Marr flinched. His teammate gave him a weird look, but Joe was just staring at you blankly. 

“I’ve had these tickets since before the season, you know that,” you replied. 

“I didn’t want you to come,” he said and you tried to ignore the hurt you felt. “Did you not get the hint from me ignoring you all week?” 

“Oh, so is that why you stood up the charity?” You bit back. “So that I would ‘get the hint’?”

Joe didn’t say anything, clenching his jaw and Ja’Marr tried to step in. 

“I wanted her to come man,” he said and Joe snapped his head towards his friend. 

“Well just fuck her then and get over it,” he replied and your jaw dropped. Ja”Marr shoved him backward, yelling at him before security intervened. You recovered from your shock and turned around, abruptly leaving the stadium. You called an Uber to take you back to the hotel, and the massive traffic gave you a lot of time to process what had just happened. 

You could understand him being upset over the game, especially since it was so fresh in his mind. But it’s not like you went up to him; he came up to you. This man was supposed to be your best friend, and he basically just called you a whore to your face. This shit was ridiculous. 

30 minutes later, you were walking into the hotel. Ja’Marr had tried calling, but you declined. You called the airline you were flying with to see if there was any chance of flying out early, and you were lucky to snag a seat on the last flight out. You quickly packed up your stuff after changing into a comfier outfit and headed down to the lobby to check out and call a car. 

Turning to head out the door you stopped as you saw Joe walking in, his eyes trained on you. He looked miserable and he made his way towards you slowly. 

“Y/n..” he started, his eyes filling up with tears, but you stopped him from saying anything else. 

“I’m leaving,” you said emotionlessly. He tried to reach out to you, but you flinched back and pain flashed across his face. 

“I need to talk to you y/n,” he begged. “Please don’t leave.” 

“Why would I stay?” You asked softly. “Goodbye, Joe.” 

You left him standing there wondering why it felt like your own heart was breaking into two. 

—-----------------------------------------------

It had been two weeks since then, and you had successfully avoided Joe at all costs. He blew up your phone of course but you have yet to answer. Luckily he hadn’t tried coming to your apartment because he knew you well enough to know that it’d piss you off. 

You were on your way to hang out with Ja’Marr for a group movie night which he promised you that Joe would not be at. You don’t know why you even believed him; Joe’s car was parked in the front driveway and you almost reversed until you saw Ja’Marr waving his arms at you. Stepping out, you crossed your arms, waiting for him. 

“I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew he was here,” he started and you scoffed. 

“You were right.”

“I am miserable because he is y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry but I will be selfish for a minute. He is being a dick at practice to everyone and isn’t throwing me good balls. He’s moody, won’t say a word to me, and won’t leave his house unless necessary. So please let him make it up to you. You two belong together.”

“He called me a whore Ja’Marr!” You exclaimed frustrated and gave you a sympathetic look. 

“I know he did, and that was terrible. I tried to fight him on your behalf,” he said, earning a small smile from you. “God I shouldn’t tell you this but he’s so in love with you it’s insane. He’s hurting and you’re hurting. Please just talk to him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you said and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Believe what you want but get in there,” he said steering you towards the door. 

The good thing was that there were a few other people here from your friend group, so technically, you didn’t even have to talk to him. He was the first person you saw when you walked in so clearly, this was a coordinated effort between the two friends. 

Joe did look sad, and you wanted to be happy about it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. He was dressed down in grey sweats and a black T-shirt, his hair looking like he had run his hands through it over and over. His eyes were puffy, and that made your heart clench. 

“Are we ready to start?” One of your other friends called from the living room and you started to walk towards the room but Joe gently grabbed you, pulling you closer to him and letting Ja’Marr pass. 

“Can we talk?” He mumbled quietly to you and you nodded, letting him pull you into the study. You stood with your arms crossed as you looked at him, waiting. 

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I was hurting so bad and I took it out on you. The one person who has always been there for me.” 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Joe,” you said, frustrated. “It’s not like it was just the comment; it was the week leading up to it, missing the event. I can’t be there for you when you don’t let me in.”

You had imagined how this conversation would go multiple times over the past few weeks. You expected an apology and another apology, but you did not expect Joe Burrow to start sobbing in front of you. 

He sunk against the wall and had his head in his hands while he was crying. Your shock wore off, and you knelt down in front of him, moving in between his legs. He looked up and your heart broke at his tear-stained face. 

“What is going on, Joe?” You asked softly, wiping some of his tears with your thumb. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Everything is going wrong, and I don’t feel like I’m in control. I do everything I can, and it’s still not enough.” 

“Oh Joey,” you murmured, pulling his head into your shoulders. He held on to you tightly as he cried and you ran your hand through his hair gently. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry I hurt you; I hated myself the second I said it.” 

“I forgive you Joe,” you told him, looking into his teary eyes. 

“I don’t deserve you; I’m not good enough for you,” he said. “I want to be enough for you.”

You cupped his face gently, making him look at you. Your own eyes started to water at the vulnerability he was showing.

"Joe, you’ve always been enough for me," you whispered. "You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone. I’m here for you, not for what you do or don’t achieve."

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, his hands moving to hold yours. "You don’t understand, y/n. I don’t just want to be your best friend—I want to be everything to you. And I’ve been so afraid of ruining our relationship that I pushed you away instead."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Joe..."

"I love you," he said, his voice breaking, but his gaze held steady. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I didn’t know how to tell you. But pushing you away hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt on the field. I can’t lose you."

For a moment, the weight of his words left you speechless. You searched his face, finding nothing but raw sincerity. Your heart ached, but in the best way, as if it were piecing itself together after being fractured.

"I love you too, Joe," you admitted to him and yourself, a soft smile breaking through the tears on your face. "But you have to let me in. No more shutting me out, no matter how hard things get. We figure it out together, okay?"

His hands tightened around yours, and he nodded, relief washing over his features. "Together. I promise."

You leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead before resting your own against it. The two of you walked out of the study and into the living room, where everyone else was already engrossed in the movie. Ja’Marr looked between the two of you and at your connected hands and gave you a wide smirk. Joe moved to the big armchair and pulled you down with him, and you snuggled into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, and you finally felt content. 

[yawnderu]

Shooting Star — Bodyguard!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Popstar!Reader

Being a bodyguard for a 20-something year old pop star was the last thing Simon had in mind. Simon, the same man who had an uniform adorned by chest candy, the same man who was known as a Ghost, the same man who was a highly accomplished SAS soldier, forced to sit on your pink bed while you did your makeup on the floor.

The image was almost comical, the man in a black suit for the first time in forever, a bulletproof vest concealed underneath his white dressing shirt. It felt uncomfortable despite everything being the right size, tailored specifically for him upon your very extra request.

''Are you done? Bloody hell.'' You've been getting ready extremely slow just to spite him for making you wake up at 5am sharp, claiming it was protocol. Protocol my ass.

''I liked you better when you were quiet.'' You try to control the way the corners of your lips lift up when you hear the overdramatic sigh muffled by his black balaclava.

''Too bad.'' He gets up from bed, warm hands sneaking under your armpits.

''Up.'' He doesn't even give you the chance to stand up, simply pulling you up and smoothing out your skirt, hands treating the fabric delicately until the wrinkles you caused by sitting on the floor are gone.

''Don't manhandle me.'' There's something especially fun about annoying him, seeing him resist the urge to roll his eyes or take a sharp breath to calm down his witty tongue.

''I didn't manhandle you, brat. I lifted you up.'' He corrects, gently pushing you towards the door.

''Put this on and always make sure I can see you, yeah?'' He hands you a black surgical mask, meant to conceal your identity as much as possible to avoid being recognized by fans on your day off.

''Yup-yup.'' You put the mask on, adjusting the straps before leaving the house, Ghost following close behind, eyes quickly scanning the area before getting in the car, driving you to the fair you begged him to let you go to. It took 3 full days of begging before he relented, purely out of annoyance.

''Don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone— don't even breathe at anyone. I'm not dealing with your bloody fans.'' He warns.

''Yes, dad.'' You roll your eyes, head leaning against the car window, the vibrations making a slushy out of your brain— probably.

''And don't take any pictures. If anyone recognizes you... punch them dead in the windpipe.'' You stifle a laugh as you hear him, knowing that no matter how blunt he is, he was joking... maybe.

''Go to jail forever if someone asks for a picture, got it.'' You jokingly plant your hand on his thigh and he slaps it away, side-eyeing you before he keeps driving, hoping you ignore the red lights he's speeding through.

[moonsaver]

Imagine instead of 4ggravate being a kpop boy group and reader being the fangirl, its the other way around

4ggravate forms a groupchat particularly because of you, their bias, who is also the least recognized in your group and is often overshadowed by others, leading to a desperate convergence of your fans in finding out the itty bitty stuff about you that's all on blast when it comes to the other idols in your group. They're like detectives trying to figure out whether you liked the specific flavor of ice cream on a show you participated in with your group. Each of them keep tabs on any official updates about you, recording and clipping parts of your group's lives in the tidbits where you come in, and forming a wall trying to defend you from majority of the fandom when you get backlash from false rumors. That's just how the group came to be.

Kaveh is the oldest fan amongst them – he's been there since day 1. Claims he knows the most out of all of them and tries to prove it via quizzes and guessing games. Sometimes he wins, most times he doesn't. Also the poorest of the four. He spent so much on buying your specific merchandise he didn't plan for the future concert you group was holding in his area, and ever since then he's had to tearfully decide constantly between buying albums, your photocards, new lightstick versions, etc.. and your concert that may or may not even be held in the area.

In the rare chance that he does attend your concert – he tries to get the most out of it. Front row, headbands, fanchant at the top of his head, lightsticks in both hands. When you notice him and exchange a few words over the loud crowd, he swears he's going to pass out, looking up at your crouched figure on the stage makes you look almost like an angel to him, the light highlighting your figure perfectly. Suffice to say, he eventually made an impression on you at least.. because he passed out and the crowd had to surf him to a security guard. He's deeply embarassed about it, and can't really escape it now that he's become a bit of an inside joke in your fandom

Cyno is the second older fan. Like Kaveh, he prides himself over having a good amount of knowledge about you that's not exactly easy to find – old, old, old images of other kpop idols in which you appear for a fraction of a second, spotting the products you use in your lives and being able to find out the brands is his specialty. If Kaveh has the knowledge, Cyno at least has the detective skills. He has his own individually run fanpage where most other fanpages, even your group's fanpages, refer to as a trusted source. Has also managed to create several fancams of you that were incredibly hard to get ahold of. He's those fanpages on twitter who thoroughly collect evidence and manage to pinpoint future events you're going to take part in before they're announced, and he manages to predict it correctly almost all the time. He's well known within the fandom, but due to how busy he is in 4ggravate trying to form a cumulative plan almost all the time, rarely does he find the time to respond to other fans and fanpages, and most other admins don't usually approach him either.

If anything, at least he's got more resources and money than Kaveh. I imagine he actually also is in a lot of other groups besides 4ggravate.

Alhaitham, out of everyone, is the one who's actually talked to you the most. He was originally just interested in the music, didn't really care until he realized how less and less your lines became the more songs your group churned out. So in his mind, to "make up for" the lack of lines on your end, he decides to simply just pay extra attention to your solo activities. It's not soon before you become his bias. Unlike Kaveh, he was pretty strategic and managed to plan ahead for scheduled fancalls, fanmeetings, appearances in public, etc..

he leaves a lasting impression because.. he doesn't show his appearance. At all. There's many fans out there who get your attention by doing strange things with their appearance, but Alhaitham refuses to even take off his mask just to talk to you. In fancalls, he decides to cover the cameras, always wears hoodies that cover him completely when he meets you in public. At some point, the fandom falls in love with him instead (which drives Kaveh insane), and it's not soon before there's all sorts of rumors about you two. The rumors get more wild when he only ever takes his hoodie off once when you meet him face to face. Personality wise, he sticks out because of how easily he's able to spot changes in choreography, voice, pitch, writing style, etc.. and even more so, because of how upfront about it he is, without actually being creepy about it. He gives good advice without making it sound like unwelcome criticism.

Tighnari is actually the normal one. He just generally likes the music and likes your voice specifically because he thinks your voice suits the concept the best, but because of a few injustices (which he sarcastically comments on many fancams, to which also many fans agree), he finds himself doing something similar to Alhaitham. Albeit, less.. detailed? Is what he thinks. He's actually a bit of a keyboard warrior when it comes down to it – replying to group threads that intentionally leave you out, having the sassiest comebacks to mean or rude comments about you, piecing together timelines and locations to prove false rumors wrong, working especially close with Cyno in these kinds of cases. If there's a fancam of you, Tighnari is under it fighting some or the other hater, or just blatantly commenting on the event itself that intentionally disrespects you or your group.

He's probably the only one who actually leaves a long lasting impression on you. When your car drives by a bunch of your excited fans, he's the normal one who's looking on calmly and waving to you with a stoic face. Whenever he comes to fanmeetings with Alhaitham, or has fancalls with you – it's fun! His humor is easy to accustom to, conversation goes lightly, and overall he's the tamest out of everyone. He gives you some skincare advice which you gladly accept, and somehow, despite not being as incriminating as the others when it came to detail, they're salty about how he seems to be the one who's closest to you. It's not unnoticeable the way out of all four of them, you recognize him by a first name basis. Ohhh boy.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Me, after doing 15 minutes of excessive googling on every Batfam member's birthday only to then realize I've accidentally missed the majority of them this year, and then also finding out that people are still aggressively debating over whether Bruce's birthday is April 7 or February 19, Dick's birthday happens 3-6x throughout the year, and Stephanie might have just popped into existence for all that DC cares:

Batfam birthday dates btw for anyone who needs them are listed beneath the cut:

DISCLAIMER: DC is notorious for being super inconsistent with everything and I am a mere tadpole caught in the tidal wave of DC's ocean. This post will be regularly updated with edits and corrections so please do not use it as word of law, I am begging you.

Update (8/24/23): To keep things more simple and easier for everyone I am going to start categorizing the birth dates I've collected into 3 categories.

-Most popular: Self-explanatory. These are the birth dates that have been canonized and confirmed by DC and are also more wildly celebrated by the fandom. Typically, this should be the first result you see when you google the character's birthday. But not always because DC sucks ass.

-Other date(s): These are the additional birth dates I come across that have been canonized in some form with multiple sources, but are not as wildly celebrated or popularized by DC and/or the fandom. Why am I including them here? Mostly because I don't want people coming in saying I forgot a date. But also because if I have to see this mess, then y'all have too as well.

-Potential but unconfirmed date(s): This is where I will put all the other additional dates I find, but specifically those that are lacking in complete sources or seem to be highly debated and scrutinized.

Also fun emoji ranking guide for me and me alone:

👑👑: Queen Shit. Characters with a consistent and simple birth date(s). Can absolutely do no wrong.

👑😮‍💨: In the Running. Characters who don't have a set birth date, but the mess is minor and completely DC's fault. They shouldn't have to be punished for DC's crimes.

🤡🤡: Gtfo. Shit is so inconsistent and stupidly messy that it's making me lose my shit. I'm putting DC and the characters on trial for this bullshit.

👑Alfred Pennyworth👑

Most popular: August 16

Other date(s): April 8 and March 31

(I think it'd be hella cute if Jason and Alfred shared a bday. But if you keep scrolling through the rest of the list, you'll see that August is kind of an overcrowded bday month for the Batfam.

Depending on what you prefer, though, I still think Alfred's worth being celebrated. Lord knows he deserves a special day for himself)

(Update ((8/24/23)): No big inconsistencies between these dates. I just thought it would be fun to provide some info on why Alfred has two canonical birthdates.

So the reason August 16 is viewed as the most popular is for two main reasons. One, obviously, is that he shares a birth date with Jason Todd. So many fans latch onto this date because of how sweet it is for them to share a birthday together.

The second reason has to do with the origin of the birth date. This is because of the more recent retcon that was made by the prequel comic to the Injustice: Gods Among Us video game that was published in 2013. There is a panel in the comic that shows Alfred's birth certificate in full detail from his full name, his place of birth, etc.

As for April 8, this specific date technically has more history compared to August 16. Fans will cite that April 8 was the official date selected by DC according to their Super DC Calendar back in 1976 (which btw was made in 1975).

Compared to August 16 and April 8, however, March 31 oddly enough isn't that popular or recognized by DC or the majority of the fandom. The reason March 31 does come up is because March 31, 1943 was the date when Alfred made his first appearance in the comics, one day after Bruce/Batman)

🤡Bruce Wayne🤡: Hey. Hey, DC, look at me. Bitch.

Most popular: February 19 or April 7

Other date(s): April 25, May 27, March 30, "October," October 7, and "November"

(It looks like most people go with February 19, but don't come at me if you're a April 7 truther. I'm just existing)

(Update ((8/20/23)): I'm gonna shoot somebody. So after doing a little bit more research, I came across-you'd never guess it-even more conflicting info on when Bruce's birthday is supposed to take place.

While April 7 and February 19 are still popular days for fans to celebrate Batman's bday, March 30 is also considered a popular date due to March 30, 1939 being the day Detective Comics #27 ((the issue Batman debuted in)) was put on shelves.

HOWEVER, even Batman's debut is contested to actually be May 27, 1939 because despite the fact that Detective Comics #27 first appeared to the public on March 30, 1939, the cover issue depicted May 27, 1939 instead.

This is because it was a popular practice for comics publication houses to falsify their cover dates as a way to give the impression that the latest issue was newer than it actually was. So if you really, really wanna get super fucking technical about it ((and I know there are some of you out there who do)), Batman may have debuted on March 30, but the cover-issue date was May 27 so, yes, I guess Bruce could have been a May baby instead.

I hate it here.

Oh, and to make matters more complicated, let's discuss the issue of April 7 vs April 25. So the reason April 7 is a popular bday for Bruce is because the original 1930-40s run just outright stated that April 7 was his birthday. Simple enough.

So what does April 25 have to do with this? Well, that's because technically-I think I hate that word now btw-Batman didn't get his own solo comic until April 25, 1940. If you want to go by April 25 because of this logic, however, that means that you'd have to share Bruce's birthday with the Joker. Because guess what? That's also the exact date that the Joker debuted.

I'm personally not a huge fan of Bruce and the Joker sharing a bday. Mostly just because the dates are clearly already complicated enough. But also I feel like April 25 is just known as the Joker's bday at this point, at least in the DC fandom. And Bruce has so many options at this point that it'd be kinda silly to make them share a bday.

As for the "sometime in October" and "sometime in November" additions, we have Batman The Animated Series and Frank Miller's "Batman: Year One" to thank for those extremely vague options.

BTAS Bruce states that his birthday is "sometime in October" and "Batman: Year One" Bruce is responsible for "sometime in November." I repeat: I hate it here.

So when is Bruce's actual birthday? Well, the latest change that DC has "officially" made was the February 19 retcon during the 1970-80s. When a fan sent a question into Detective Comics about Bruce's birthday, the answer given was "February 19" in the letter column. Issue #494, to be exact.

And the reason this answer was given? Because the Super DC Calender for 1976 (again made in 1975) said so.

However, there are still people who prefer to celebrate his bday on April 7 or March 30 instead. And there's also a question floating around if the New 52 run could potentially retcon Bruce's bday AGAIN at some point in the future.

I. Hate. It. Here.

Personally, I liked February 19 because then Alfred could maybe have the month of April to himself. But after seeing all this new info, I'm just sort of resigned to whichever date that the fandom prefers. Y'all can decide. I don't have any energy left.

Also, I can't believe I have to accuse Bruce of having possibly taught Dick his bday scam. Just .... wow).

(Update ((8/24/23)): Well, DC did it to me again. I found this extra little tidbit while googling the Super DC Calendar for Alfred, actually.

So Issue #10 of the 2021 Legends of the Dark Knight decided to give the BTAS's "sometime in October" an actual sometime.

How do I feel about yet another Bruce Wayne bday retcon? Honestly, I think I'm moving closer and closer to just a bland state of acceptance at this point. Tbh, I don't think all these retcons actually matter that much in the end. DC is gonna keep being DC.

Which is annoying. But Idk I'm personally gonna stick with February 19. No shade to you if you prefer any of the other dates. I just like February 19 more than the others)

👑Kate Kane👑

Most popular: March 21

Other date(s): January 26

(So ... where to start to with this one?

Well the official DC canon birth date for Kate Kane is listed as March 21. That being said, if you were to google Kate's birthday right now, you might be confused because that's not the first result that comes up.

Instead, you'll be greeted with January 26, 1990.

So what gives? If there's already an official DC approved birth date, then why the fuck is January 26 coming up all of a sudden?

Well, folks, you have the CW's Batwoman to thank.

Tbh I was very confused as to how I completely missed that there was an entire Batwoman TV show in the first place.

Apparently the show is considered a part of the CW Arrowverse (in reference to the CW show Arrow featuring Oliver Queen, for those of you who need extra info) and ran for 3 whole seasons before being cancelled on April 9, 2022.

And they gave us actual canon lesbian Kate Kane rep. I mean, she is a lesbian. But yeah. CW actually acknowledged her sexual orientation. So kudos for doing the bare minimum?????

Anyway, I guess the showrunners just decided they wanted Kate's birthday to be on January 26 instead of March 21??? Idk if this was supposed to be a reference or an homage to Cassandra Cain's birthday. I doubt it, but who knows?)

🤡Dick Grayson🤡: Greedy bitch who keeps lying about his birthday so he can scam people into giving him more presents jk jk

Most popular: "On the first day of spring" (bruh) or March 20/21

Other date(s): March 6, "April," October 24 (aka "the week before Halloween"), November 11 and December 1

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): June 24

(Dick's canon bday seems to be influx. March 6, March 20, March 21, November 11, June 24, December 1, and so on. I did see multiple sources state Dick was born "on the first day of spring." I'm unclear atm about whether this is a fanon take or if it was actually stated in a particular comic at some point.

As far as I'm concerned, Dick just keeps lying about his birthday for the lols)

(Update ((8/24/23)): Well, guess what I found, folks?

It's a return visit from our favorite friend, the Super DC Calendar of 1976. And according to it, Dick's birthday should be November 11.

You can also thank the Young Justice comic for the confusion surrounding Dick's bday being on December 1.

Also, I found this post by @theflyingwonder that helps clear up a LOT of the mess surrounding Dick's ever changing birth date. Honestly, amazing work and extra kudos to them for putting all the work in and finding all the sources. I just wished I had found their post earlier, holy shit.

And if you have some extra time, please give some love to @inkydandy for their hilarious and very sweet comic about all the confusion that comes with Dick's bday)

(Update ((8/25/23)): Many thanks to @poisoned-ivy for clearing up even more of the mess surrounding Dick's bday. I went ahead and took a screenshot of their response to my old "Which date is Dick's canon bday?" poll.

They also provided a link to the DC Universe Calendar which was lovingly compiled from the original 1976 Super DC Calendar and then put together by the people who run the Five Earths Project .

Also found out from them today that October 24 is one of Dick's bdays ((at least for Post-Crisis Dick Grayson)). So that was a fun new discovery!

They were also very helpful in helping me realize that the original article I had found that stated "sometime in April" was actually in reference to Dick Grayson's first appearance in the comics, which was April 1940.

So, yes, "sometime in April" is technically--again I hate this word so much now--still a valid candidate for Dick's bday. And before you ask: Detective Comics #38 was actually published on March 6, 1940.

Hence why people will cite March 6 as Dick's canon bday instead.

This project got a lot bigger than I ever expected it to ... god)

👑Barbara Gordon👑: September 23

👑Jason Todd👑: August 16

👑Cassandra Cain👑: January 26

👑Tim Drake👑: July 19

👑Stephanie Brown😮‍💨: She emerged from the void with the sole purpose of dragging Bruce's ass to hell and back. Nothing can stop her. We all exist in her world now.

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): June 23, "August," or August 11

(For real, though, some peeps will say June 23 since the month she officially debuted in the comics was June 1992.

But I've also seen August 1992 listed as her bday month as well--lot of August babies in the Batfam, huh--but I haven't found June 23 specifically listed as her canon bday, either. It honestly feels like the fans are putting in more work than DC at this point. Which, like, I'm not surprised. Just disappointed)

(Update ((8/24/23)): Someone mentioned August 11 as a potential birth date, but I have yet to see an actual source that specifically states this. If I do find one, I'll edit this section. Figured I should put it here just in case, though)

👑Duke Thomas👑: August 13

👑Damian Wayne👑: August 9

👑Terry McGinnis😮‍💨

Most popular: August 18

Other date(s): June 27 or August 10

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): September 19 (fml)

(Yes, I'm including Terry, fuck you lol

Also SERIOUSLY WTF is up with so many of these August birthdays!!!! Fuck, was everyone just getting crazy BUSY in November!!!! What's going on in the DC universe that is making November of all months the HORNY MONTH????!!!!)

(Mini update ((8/18/23)): Well, I just found out that apparently June 27th 2023 is also a highly debated birth date for Terry. As is August 10 2023/2024 and August 18 2023/2024. I even saw a mention of September 19 2023, but I don't know how credible that source actually is. I'm just putting it here because I'm losing my mind and I don't want someone to pop in and say I forgot it omfg I'm dying

I'm just ... why? Why is it so hard to just commit to one month and one date. I'm not even concerned about the exact year. Just commit to ONE, man.

Excuse me while I march over to DC HQ and burn the whole place to the ground iswtfg)

Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on any of these. I have a massive headache now and am open to any suggestions or clarifications y'all have to offer.

Also, I'm going to fist fight Dick in a Denny's parking lot.

Update (8/17/23): So a mini post that I meant to use as a way to vent how insane Dick was making me somehow blew up way more than I ever expected it to, and now I feel obligated to clarify again that I am open to any corrections and additional info that anyone has to offer.

I'm saying this because I've noticed people reblogging this post for actual Batfam bday references and someone already pointed out I fucked up Tim's bday and now I feel bad for everyone who reblogged this post prior to that edit.

It's probably just the anxiety talking, but yeah I just wanted to put that out there.

Also justice for Stephanie Brown! She deserves to have her own special day and if I have to bully DC into giving her a canon birthday, then you bet your ass I fucking will.

(And to all of y'all who are encouraging Dick to keep running his side scam business, I just have this to say: There's an empty Denny's parking lot somewhere out there just waiting for you, too lol)

[gingernut1314]

Just A Bedtime Story ch. 4

Summary: You are out for a swim during your work break, only to stumble upon a fight on the docks. A fight starring a very familiar face.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, introduction to Sevika and Nadia (my oc...though technically she's low-key canon lol), Canon typical violence (description of a fight), young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, reader using water manipulation, confirming friendship, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna)

Word Count: 3.7K

A/N: This is a bit of a long one sorry. I caught a little too much in their interactions. Next chapter we will finally get them all aged up!! I hope you all enjoy!

↞ to The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist | Arcane Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

The waters of the Undercity had always been a comfort to you--a second home. No matter how freezing--no matter how polluted they got, you always found yourself swimming within them. 

People who knew you often said if you didn’t need to breathe, you would stay down in the inky depth. And they would be very much corrected. 

It was truly too bad you hadn’t developed gills and webbed fingers. 

You had just resurfaced to take a much-needed breath when a sound other than lapping water and the creaking of wooden ships caught your ear. It was faint. So faint you found yourself swimming out from under your boss’ dock and toward the sound. 

Not only were you an avid swimmer, but you were nosy as hell. A nosiness that got you in trouble more times than not. 

The closer and closer you swam, the clearer the sound grew. 

Sounds. 

Stomping and shuffling feet, grunts and shouts, bone hitting flesh, the sharp zing of a blade flying through the air and cutting through the skin. 

It was a fight you were hearing. 

You swam toward the ladder on the wall and climbed slowly upward, water dripping off your body and making too much noise. You doubted whoever was fighting could tell the difference between the water swooshing against the wood and your body leaving it, but you could never be too careful. 

Peeking your head up over the wooden dock, you found a cluster of boys all around your age or older. You recognized them all instantly as the gang that thought they owned the docks. As the gang that tormented you to no end. Who you had stolen from only two months prior. 

They had stayed under the radar since then. You could take a pretty good guess as to why, that being they were embarrassed about their defeat. They were bloodied, bruised, and some dead, and word of their loss had spread like wildfire.

Partially because you had fanned the flames. 

But even when you knew they knew you had spread the word, they hadn’t come out of hiding. Not until now. 

You pulled yourself a little further upward, trying to catch a glimpse of who they were beating on this time. Slowly and carefully you scanned over the scene and…

There. 

You found them. Him. And fucking hell--

It was Silco. 

You wondered what the hell he was doing all the way over here? Especially since The Last Drop, his territory, was located in the heart of the Undercity while the docks lay closer to Piltover’s borders. Too close to your liking but you really couldn’t do anything about that.

You wondered why the hell he would draw their attention when he knew they would be out for blood--his blood specifically. While Vander had beat them into a bloody pulp, Silco had killed a good handful of their members.

You had greatly enjoyed this fact, but it still didn’t make it a good idea for him to be wondering about over here where they knew the area best. 

It was a ten-on-one fight. Seemingly unfair odds but somehow Silco was still standing. Somehow he was making it nine then eight then seven against one the longer the fight went on. 

His movements, while not the most graceful, were ruthless. Movements you knew spoke volumes to the amount of fights he had waged. To the number of fights he had won. 

You were awestruck by it. So hypnotized by his fighting that you failed to spy one of the fallen members get back up. To see him grab a loose plank of wood and rush at Silco, who was busy fending off two nasty-looking members. 

You and Silco both didn’t see the plank until it was crashing over the back of Silco’s head. He went crumbling to the ground, his knives clattering beside him as he went. 

The gang seemed to hesitate. Like maybe they believe he was faking it. Hesitated as if he were some beast who would snap up and crush them between his jaws, but Silco stayed down and your throat tightened. 

You rushed up the rest of the ladder, pulling the attention of most of the remaining members just as they went to beat Silco further into the ground. 

“Little fishy,” You were disappointed to see Rotting Teeth was still standing, blood running from a deep cut on the ridge of his nose. “I’d say you were here to save your little boyfriend, but your weak as all shit.”

“Good to see your mush-filled skull can still come up with shitty insults.” He grits his rotting teeth at you. 

“You still haven’t learned your place, have you?” You blinked at him slowly. 

“My…place?” You spoke, mocking confusion. “I don’t know what you mean?” He growled, too easily annoyed. 

“You bitch--”

“Oh, gods.” You groaned. “Where is the originality? Little fishy’s good, but bitch? Really? Everyone uses that.” 

“Here’s what's gonna happen, bitch.” You shook your head in mock disappointment. “I’m gonna kill your boy toy and then I'm gonna kill you. Understand?” He pulled a very dull-looking knife from his pocket, brandishing it your way like it might scare you. 

“No. I don’t think I do, because you won’t be killing anyone.” Rotting Teeth and his gang gave howling rounds of laughter at your words. Laugher you used as a slight distraction as you felt for the water below your feet. Water your magic sung the same melody with.

“Get--” But before Rotten Teeth could give his commands, you yanked the water upward, it hissing sharply as it shot between the planks. 

Startled shouts sounded from the gang. Shouts that turned painful as you moved your hands around, guiding the water to shoot into their eyes and nose. 

The breath in your lungs grew heavier the longer you used your magic. Magic you knew you could only control for so long before growing too exhausted. 

So, with great effort, you willed the waters to wrap around the throats of the remaining eight gang members. They gave strangled and fearful yelps before you were yanking them towards the waters below with a great grunt. 

As soon as you heard them splash into the cold waters below, you released your magic quickly. The strain of using such power had you stumbling forward, your vision blurring and every breath pulling in with a slight, whistling wheeze.

Janna had told you to start out small. Exploding the flask being a perfect example. It was at your skill level and you could do it without much thought anymore. 

Fully manipulating water like it was a second limb? While very cool, it definitely was still something you were working on…even when you wished to prove the wind spirit wrong.

“You have magic.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and it was coming from Silco who had at some point regained consciousness. 

“Magic’s just a bedtime story.” You huffed and puffed out. Swallowing down air, you wobbled over to him only to nearly trip over his long legs, which were still sprawled out over the dock. 

“Bedtime--I just saw you control water.” You gave another swallowed-down bit of air, your vision starting to focus and breathing finally beginning to even. 

“I think that asshole hit you harder than I thought.” You knelt down in front of him, grabbing a hold of his head to shove it down and get a better view of the back of it. 

“Get your hands off of me.” He hissed, slapping your hand away. You gave a little fake ow at the hit.

“Wow…not even a thank you for saving your life?” You gave a mockingly hurt shake of your head. “That hurts.” 

“Oh please.” He all but rolled his eyes, pulling his legs under himself as he prepared himself to get up. “I had it under control.” 

“Okay. Yeah. ‘Under control’. We can call it that.” Silco ran one of his hands over his face, showing off his newly split knuckles. 

“Where did you even come from?” You held out your hand for him to take. He eyed it for a moment, as if to deny your further help, but reluctantly took hold of it. You helped pull him upward, savoring the feel of his chill skin against yours before it ended a few seconds later. 

“Went for a swim. Heard you getting your ass beat--”

“I was not--”

“Swam over here and saved it.” Silco gave you an exasperated sigh through his nose. “This makes us even, ya know. You saved my life, I saved yours.” 

“Fine.” He gruffly said. It pulled an all too cheerful smile to your lips that only seemed to annoy him further. “Just don’t tell Vander, yes?” The words quickly fell from him as he passed you. So quick that you almost didn’t catch it.  

You had planned on telling Vander the next time you made your way to The Last Drop, but that look in Silco’s eyes…you couldn’t place your finger on it, though your ability to understand emotions was growing much better thanks to hanging around actual humans. 

It was a look that was--near animals. Like the thought of Vander finding out you had saved him was turning him into a cornered animal. One that would snap its jaw at anyone that came too close.

Whatever it was, you didn’t like it.

You hopped to his side, wanting to follow him wherever he was heading. 

“Okay.” Silco looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you. “If you really don’t want me to, I won’t.” 

“But--why?” You gave a shrug. 

“I cut into a fight you definitely could have won.” You added a bit of a playful tease to your tone. But even when you kept things playful, you willed your eyes to remain serious. To try and tell him silently you wouldn’t. “Why would I want to brag about my own dishonor.”

“Dishonor? I didn’t know there was honor between thieves and murderers to begin with.” Silco ran his thin fingers through his shaggy hair, trying to tame back the frizzled mess it had become in his fight.

Your own fingers itched as you watched him. 

You wanted to do that.

“Oh yes. There’s a code and vow and everything. Very official.” You gave a dead serious nod. “Did you miss that meeting?” An amused smile pulled at the very corners of Silco’s thin lips. Lips you wanted to see sport a full smile. One you wanted wide enough you could look at the V-shaped chip there fully. 

You felt bad about it, but damn it was cute. It just completely complimented him. 

“Damn. Must have.” You gave him a small chuckle as you came upon your boss’ shop. 

“This is where I work.” Silco looked over the gray, stone backing of the shop. Took in the small sign above the door and empty, fish gut-stained crates lining the back door. 

“Are you working now?” You a small nod.

“Breaks about to end.” Silco gave a matching small nod, seafoam eyes landing on you once more. 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah.” Silence filled the space between you two. A silence you didn’t like and was quick to fill. “Why’d you come all the way over here anyway?” Silco ran his fingers through his hair once more, eyes falling away from you as he kicked at an invisible pebble. 

“Vander’s helping open The Last Drop. Went for a walk. Ended up here.” You really couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips then. 

Had he come here to find you? Had he come here to--dare you say--hang out? 

It had a giddy feeling bubbling in your chest you had to shove far down. 

“Do you want to come inside? I can introduce you to Nadia and Sevika.” He glanced back up at you, brows furrowing the slightest bit. 

“And they are…?” 

“My friends. Nadia is super sweet. She can clean and wrap your knuckles and take care of any of your other wounds.” Silco subconsciously looked to his bleeding knuckles. You knew he probably wouldn’t take the offer but it was there if he did.

“And the other?” 

“Sevika?” He nodded. “Well, Sevika’s…Sevika.” You shrugged. “She’s great. I think you’ll like her.” You grabbed hold of the door handle, which was dented here and there. “Come on. I can sneak you some food too.” At the prospect of food, Silco perked up instantly. 

“Fine. But only for a moment.” You beamed at him as he followed after you. 

The clatter of plates and pots filled your ears as you shut the door behind Silco, the kitchen a beehive of cooks and dishwashers and the heavenly smell of food. The chef shouted something to one of the other cooks who shouted right back as you reached to grab hold of Silco jacket sleeve. 

“Okay so…try not to be so tall.” You whispered, beginning to pull him from behind the wall. 

“Wha--am I not supposed to be in here?” You shushed him much to his dislike. 

“Technically no. Boss isn’t a big fan of men so…” You thought of how your boss didn’t even like Nadia’s husband, who was probably the sweetest man on this earth. Boss hated men so much she only hired women to work in her diner and on her ship. Hated them so much she only interacted with male customers if it was absolutely necessary. 

Silco gave a great sigh, so you tossed him a mischievous smile.

“Don’t worry. She stays in her office most of the day.” But just as you spoke, the door leading out into the front of the house swung open, making you startle so bad it showed physically. 

A lithe woman came through carrying a plate of food that looked like it had been picked through by an all too picky customer. Her wild, ruddy red hair had been wrestled into a ponytail that was fighting to escape its confines, and her pale, near pearlescent skin was covered in faint speckling of freckles. 

“Chef, I fear they--” Her burnt gold eyes flickered over you, pinkish lips pulling thin. “What have I told you.” She spoke again, her accent thick yet added another layer to her melodic voice. “If you go for a swim you must dry off. Dragging a mess in with you.” She shook her head, “I left a towel for you--” Again she cut herself off when her eyes looked just past you to Silco. 

“Nadia, this is Silco.” Her eyes lit in recognition of the name. A name that may or may not have been spewed from your lips many, many times since you first met him. She gave a small shake of her head once more, blowing a deep sigh from her lips. 

“Take this,” She all but shoved the plate of food into your hands, before rushing you and Silco into the locker room. “Give me a moment.” She smiled kindly Silco’s way before rushing back out of the door, washing the room in silence. 

“See. Food.” You flopped down on one of the wooden benches, crossing your legs as you placed the plate beside you. When Silco continued to stand in the middle of the locker room looking too out of place, you waved him over. “What? Are you scared?” Silco rolled his eyes, following your gesture and sitting down beside the plate. 

“Of course not.”

“Then stop acting like a chicken.” You teased, grabbing a few french fries and all but shoving them into your mouth. “The fish is fresh. Caught it this morning.” You spoke around the food in your mouth. Silco’s nose wrinkled at you in slight disgust but he wasted no time in ripping a bit of the fried fish. 

“You caught it?” You hummed in yes, grabbing a bit of the fish yourself.

“Boss takes me with her when she goes out to sea. Calls me her good luck charm 'cause we always catch a good haul when I’m around.” Silco nodded, chewing the fish slowly. 

“Because of your magic?” You were quick to shush him again. “Oh, would you stop--” Another long shush. 

“It’s not magic.” Silco rose a brow at you, not believing it for a second. “And if it was…sure. Maybe that’s the reason.” 

“Is it maybe the reason you can swim submerged in the waters and not reap the consequences as well?” You watched him for a long moment, slowing your own chewing. 

“I don’t like this line of questioning.” Silco ripped another bit of the fish off. 

“Well, magic is rare. As you said, just a bedtime story. It is only natural I would be curious.” He popped the fish into his mouth. 

“It is just a bedtime story.” You insisted, messing with a fry between your fingers. “But…probably. But I think it also has to do with how my guardian found me. Just a newborn drowning within them. Someone threw me in.” You held a hand up showing your inky black fingertips, the darkness fading out around your knuckles. Silco’s own eyes scanned them over, then your face. “Use to be worse. Use to have glowing black and red eyes too.” 

“That is…horrid.” You shrugged, popping the fry you had been messing with into your mouth. 

“Eh. Seen worse.” You mused, grabbing up another fry. Silco’s seafoam eyes darkened in understanding. 

They’d all seen worse. Experienced worse. 

It came with the territory. It was the unfair truth they all had to live or it would crush them if them is they tried to deny it.

“Why tell me?” Silco’s voice came out quieter. Soft. Like he didn’t even want to ask but needed the answer. 

“Because you asked.” You shrugged again. 

“That can’t be the reason.” 

“I mean--it’s you.” Silco’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion to your answer. “I--you’re my friend. We’re friends. And…I guess I trust you to know. I want you to know.” You suddenly felt your stomach hollow out and your palms begin to sweat. 

Nervous. 

He made you so nervous. 

You hated it but found you wouldn’t try to change it.

“We’re…friends.” Silco carefully said. Like it was a secret itself. 

“I mean--I guess we don--” Silco shushed you just as you had him. It was an unexpected thing for him to do. One that had you gasping.

“We’re friends.” He confirmed, offering you a small smile. A smile that only made your heart twist and turn in your chest. One you couldn’t help but copy and copy brightly. 

“Yes. Good. I’m glad.” He gave a small nod, turning his all-too-seeing eyes back down onto the plate between you two. 

Oh, you could giggle. Oh, you could jump up and down and giggle. 

“After I get off of work--” But your words were cut off by the door to the locker door banging open. 

Nadia was hushly shouting, grabbing hold of Sevika’s strong arm and yanking as if she could actually move the girl. 

Silco was quick to his feet, readying for a fight he might have to wage against the girl. You watched his calculating eyes take in the muscle-ripped teen as if already searching for weaknesses to exploit.

Sevika went right up to him, bending down to look him straight in the eyes when she truly didn’t need to. It was just her way of telling him she saw him as inferior until he proved otherwise. 

“This is him?” Sevika asked, eyes never once leaving Silco’s own. 

“Sevika, enough of all this.” Nadia tried again, but Sevika was quick to shake her off.

“I’m not doing anything, Dee.” She responded nonchalantly, but her demeanor was anything but. Nadia turned to look at you for help but you just shoved another fry into your mouth. 

Silco’d be okay.

“Awfully close.” Silco calmly said. Though, just like Sevika, his demeanor was anything but. 

“Small room.” She shrugged. “Come to see her?” Sevika shoved a thumb your way. 

“She found me wandering.” 

“Wandering? So far from the heart of the city?” 

“It gets a bit boring staying in one place for too long, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I guess I would.” Sevika leaned in ever closer. So close you were almost jealous, wanting to be that close to him too. “You gonna hurt her?” 

“Hasn’t given a reason to.” Sevika nodded at this, gray eyes having yet to soften into their normal gaze. 

“Play cards?” Silco nodded back.

“Of course.” Sevika's eyes finally softened, her plump lips pulling as she gave a laugh. Silco’s shoulders loosened as she backed away, looking back to you and Nadia. 

“Didn’t tell me he played cards.” 

“Why would I ask that?” Sevika gave a deep, almost irritated sigh that was only teasing. 

“Come on, guppy. That’s the most important question.” You gave an elongated sorry. “Guess you wouldn’t ask, seeing as you suck ass at playing any kinda card game.” You dramatically gasped, throwing a fry her way. The bit of fried potato bounced off her skin like she hadn’t even felt it. 

More shouting sounded from within the kitchen. Shouting that had you, Naida, and Sevika all tensing at the sound, Silco the only one not privy to who it belonged to.

“Boss’ll kill him.” Sevika laughed. “See you ‘round, Silco. If you escape.” And back out the door she went. 

“Oh dear, oh dear.” Nadia was ringing her apron between her hands. “You must go.” She insisted to Silco, “Oh dear--forgive Sevika for us. Oh, and your knuckles.” She gave a look like his wounds were her wounds. “Forgive me. They look painful.” 

“He’ll live.” You waved her off, the shouting growing closer. Shouting now joined in by Sevika trying to keep the boss at bay.  

“Will I?” He asked as you shoved the half-full plate into his hands. 

“Probably.” You gave him a mischievous wiggle of your eyebrows. He opened his mouth as if to say something against whatever you were about to do, but you grabbed his wrist and yanked him back out the locker room before any sound could leave it. 

You’re boss all but bellowed your name, Nadia’s nervous voice trying to calm her down as you threw open the back door and shoved Silco out of it. You watched him stumble out, losing a few fries, before turning back around, looking very much bewildered.  

“I get off work at seven. I’ll bring you dinner, yeah?” You called to him. Silco had just started saying your name as you shut the door in his face.

Previous | Next

[enha-roza]

HYUNG LINE LOVE LANGUAGES

hyung line x 8thmember!oc

warnings : kissing, oral, cockwarming, nicknames (princess, doll, pretty, baby )

wc : 1.2k

Heeseung : Physical Touch Heeseung loves physical touch. Always has his hands on Roza in one way or another. Hands on her waist, resting on her thighs, arm around her shoulder. He just enjoys being right next to her. Even subconsciously drifting to stand next to her, hands instinctively wrapping around her waist. It all came naturally to him.

“And here is Roza, she is getting her makeup done!” Heeseung said, pointing the camera at her through the mirror. “Hello Engene! Do I look pretty?” she joked. “Of course you do!” Roza stood up, her makeup done. “Ahhh, I'm so nervous, I don't know why.” “Roza always gets nervous… but she always does well anyway.” Heeseung said to the camera, arm wrapping around Roza’s shoulder. “You think… my mind gets the best of me, i always freak myself out.” she giggled. “You'll do fine, you always do!” He said leaving a peck on her cheek. “Yah, my makeup!” Roza looked in the mirror at a faint lip mark on her cheek. Heeseung’s arms came around her, head resting on her shoulder and he filmed her trying to remove the lip mark. “It's pretty…” “shut up..” she whispered shyly.

18+ Heeseung was eating Roza out when he felt her hand reaching out for him. His fingers intertwined with Roza’s as she arched her back, Heeseung’s mouth leaving her a moaning mess. Slowly he left kisses over body and hickeys on her neck. “You can’t leave hickeys!” “I don't care if our fans see… you look so pretty.” Heeseung ran his hands over Roza’s waist as he slid between her tight walls. Soothing Roza with kisses to her neck and jaw. “Love having you in my arms.” He moaned as he continued to please his baby, hands wrapping around her neck. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head. “God look at you. So weak at my touch.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Jay : Acts of Service There's nothing more Jay loves than doing things for the people he cares about. Obviously Roza included. Jay’s favorite thing to do for Roza is cook. He enjoys making her favorite meals and making sure she's well fed. Due to their busy schedule Roza often forgot to eat and Jay made it his job to make sure she had eaten.

The members had just gotten back from tour and Roza was resting in her room. “Are you hungry?” Jay poked his head into her room. “Kinda… are you gonna cook something?” “yeah, what do you want?” “I don't know… anything, I'm just hungry.” Jay laughed as he grabbed Roza’s hands bringing her to the kitchen. “Also I got you a gift…” Jay pulled a small box out of his pocket handing it to Roza. “what! Omg jay you didn't have too!” Roza immediately recognized what it was. A bracelet she had been looking at while shopping a couple of weeks ago. “I saw you looking at it…” He said shyly, getting out food to cook. “Jay, that's so sweet…” Jay looked over and saw Roza looking at the bracelet gloomy. “Are you crying?” “no…” “come here.” Jay pulled Roza into him. “You deserve it, silly.” “thank you Oppa.”

18+ Jay was sitting on his bed scrolling through his phone when Roza came in and sat on his lap. “Hey pretty, what's up?” Jay’s hand came up to caress her face. “need you…” Roza said so quietly Jay wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. “You need me? You're gonna have to be a more specific doll.” He watched her slowly build up the courage. “Was trying to get off by myself but i couldn't… I need your help.” His heart swelled at her as she spoke softly. “Yeah, need Oppa’s help… poor baby couldn’t get herself off.” He smirked as he laid her down on his bed, ready and willing to put his hands and mouth to good use. Willing to do anything for her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Jake : Words of Affirmation Jake was a sweetheart. He is always complimenting the members and giving them praise any chance he can get. Jake especially likes complimenting Roza. he likes seeing how shy she gets. Whether he’s commenting on her skill, beauty or even her laugh. Jake always finds a way to put a blush on Roza’s cheeks.

The members were taking concept photos for their upcoming album where Jake, Roza and Niki were paired up to take some unit photos. “Wahh, you look so pretty…” Jake stood blankly watching Roza as she walked up to him. “You think?” “Yeah, I think you're the prettiest girl in the world.” Roza turned away shyly at Jake's complement. “Noona’s shy!” Niki shouted as he laughed at Roza. “Shut up Niki!” Roza said. “Don't act shy, love. You really are the prettiest.” Niki makes gagging sounds at Jake's sappy flirting. “Hyung, can't you be normal?” “This is normal for me, I'm always complimenting my pretty girl." “Oh god.” Niki said for a last time before walking away.

18+ Jake loved when Roza pleased him so naturally he made sure she knew how well she was making him feel. “Mmm, there we go baby. Doing so good for me” He moaned as his hand tangled in her head, her lips wrapped around his cock. “Keep going, so close…” Jake looked down, eyes meeting Roza’s watery ones. “Look at you, doing the most to please me… ahhhh, you look so pretty.” Even with how busy she was, Jake noticed her cheek blushing. “You like that… like me complimenting how pretty you are with your mouth stuffed full. Of course you do.” He smirked. He knew Roza loved receiving compliments just as much as he loved giving them.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Sunghoon : Quality Time Sunghoon likes being in Roza’s presence. He enjoyed being her roommate on tour, seatmate on planes or long car rides. He liked doing almost anything, as long as he was with her. Even when no words were being exchanged, he liked just being around her. Sunghoon most enjoyed laying next to Roza while she slept. Just watching her and listening to her small breaths made his heart warm.

Roza climbed into Sunghoon’s bed ready to watch a movie together. Sunghoon immediately noticed how tired she was, eyes droopy and small yawns passing through her lips. “If you're tired go to sleep, i don't wanna keep you up” He said, smile widening just looking at her. “But I feel bad. I promised we would watch a movie…” “it's okay, i don't mind! I'd rather you sleep anyway.” Roza nodded as she snuggled into the blankets and very quickly dozed off. Sunghoon admired her as she slept. He continued to scroll on his phone before heading to sleep himself. Happy to sleep with Roza next to him.

18+ Sunghoon had just gotten out of the shower when he entered his Room, finding Roza snuggled into his bed. “Hey baby, what are you doing?” “missed you, wanna sleep here… is that okay?” “Of course you can.” He soon joined her, bringing her in closer by the waist. Soon Roza fell asleep and Sunghoon could feel himself getting hard as she unconsciously pressed into him. “Baby… wake up.” He whispered as Roza slowly woke up. “Need to be in you baby…” his voice raspy as he slid Roza’s sleep shorts to the side, before pushing his hard cock into her. Roza whined at the stretch. “It's okay baby, go back to sleep” Sunghoon caressed her sides as she quickly went back to dreamland. Sunghoon himself, now satisfied, also ready to sleep.

a/n : hehehehehe

[doodler16]

If you asked me during the hazbin hotel pilot era who my favorite character was, it be Alastor 100%. He unironically stole the show with his mystery (if the pilot didn’t have Vaggie lore dump unnecessary I would’ve enjoyed a bit more), personality, voice, charisma, and heck even his design especially his consistent smile intrigued me. Even the way he interacted with the entire cast made me excited.

So what do I think of Alastor now? Alastor to me is a loser, unironically an attention whore in terms of screen time and merch, an egotistical, petty person, and a man child edgelord. He lost most of his mystery and charisma throughout the show (though I will admit I am interested in his backstory but I won’t be surprised if he, himself has daddy issues. And, I did find some of his jokes funny).

The pilot portrayed Alastor as this powerful overlord who didn’t care about his status which made him so unique. He wasn’t gloating about how he’s the radio demon about to end your fucking life. Alastor in the pilot was subtle. At the snap of his fingers he destroys Sir Pentious with no hesitation and no exchange of words. Meanwhile, Alastor in the show has to blab and go this tangent of how sloppy, slow, and unprofessional Adam is only to get his ass handed to him.

Alastor in the show frequently mentions his status and gets pissy when most don’t care that he’s back or straight up not recognize him. Meanwhile, in the pilot you will notice that it’s the opposite, Charlie (the princess of Hell) and Vaggie are freaking out that Alastor is here at their door. It truly shows much power and control presents in the pilot without even trying.

The thing that disappointed me the most was his lack of interaction with the main hazbin squad. It was the driving point of why I was excited for Alastor and how his involvement was going to shake up the hotel for better or worse. Only to find out He barely interacts with them and I’m supposed to “care” when the most of cast members hug and get excited that he is alive in episode 8.

Speaking of the hotel, he barely contributes much regarding the hotel and fucks around. Like I was expecting him to at least help Charlie and Vaggie brainstorm activities for the sinners to do or even take control in his own of how he would handle Angel dust and Sir Pentious. Heck or even go outside with Charlie and Vaggie to promote the hotel to other sinners via singing and cause some drama/mischief along the way. Specifically talking about the hotel, the only things he did was do the commercial, fix the walls, and protects the hotel twice. But That’s it.

As I mentioned earlier, Alastor is an attention whore in terms of stealing the spotlight in the actual show and being in most episodes, which may be good for Alastor fans. They got the full course meal but Vivziepop needs to focus on other undeveloped main characters who desperately need the attention and development. Which why Alastor should be used sparingly, this would also make the audience more interested with him and creates more mystery.

For example: Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad: you would think the episode would focus on Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship which it does for a small portion but we also gotta have Alastor in there so he could drop the biggest F bomb to Lucifer to show that he means business and hatessss him. We also gotta dedicate a 2:30 minute song duet between the two men having a pissing contest, along with our home girl Mimzy being a plot device/prop for Alastor in order to HYPE HIM UP and tell his origins. Because Alastor soooo mysterious and such a hunkkkk. Oh yeah, Charlie is there I guess…

Also, Alastor’s smile in the show bothers me personally, more specifically the way it’s drawn. It’s to jaded and sharp, so it’s pretty obvious to tell how he feels and emotions Alastor goes through. Meanwhile, in the pilot his smile and energy is so goofy and I miss that. That really added to mystery because not only keeps you on your toes but you don’t know what’s on his mind for the most part or his long term goal.

This is by far my longest post and I wanted to get this off my chest regarding Alastor. 😭

[macden]

Did Rob actually not want Mac being gay/out? I've seen ppl mention that before, but it really wasn't gonna happen unless fans put the pressure on him? (Im semi new to the fandom, and it's so obvious that's where macs character was going so it's wild to imagine otherwise)

not rob specifically, rcg didn’t want to have him come out (and stay out) which is why he went back in the closet at the end of the gang goes to hell. if they hadn’t had him actually come out and then take it back, who knows if he ever would’ve come out because it was backlash from lgbt fans over the gang goes to hell that led to hero or hate crime and out gay mac. this is from rob in 2019:

“Very rarely do we pander to our audience. Very often, we’ll hear a lot of the fan base over the years say, “Hey, we really want to see that.” We tend to block that out […] However, what we found was, there was an episode where we had a running gag that Mac was in the closet and refused to come out, and everyone there knew he was gay except for him. The joke wasn’t that Mac was gay, obviously. That would have been demeaning and offensive. The joke was that he was in the closet, and he refused to come out and doubled down on his homophobia. It was just poking fun at the hypocrisy of that. At one point, my character came out and then went back in the closet at the end of the episode.

I didn’t expect it, but there was a massive outpouring from our LGBTQ fans, who were really upset. They felt like, “Oh, wow, he finally came out. We feel represented. This is a really fun and cool character.” That made them feel like it was a chance for us to do something different, and we put him back in the closet. We thought about it over the off-season, and I realized, “Man, that is a bummer. We had an opportunity there, and we screwed it up.” And we ameliorated that in the season after, where Mac winds up coming out and staying out, and the response was so overwhelmingly positive, certainly from the people that we cared about, though of course there was a negative response from a segment of the audience we didn’t care about. It felt good that we were recognizing a part of our audience in a way that was not pandering, that wasn’t offensive or upsetting or a caricature. We weren’t creating a gay character for comedic effect, that was there just to be gay and to be funny because he was gay, but a very complex, very disturbed, very fucked-up and awful character, who happens to be gay. And we ran with that.”

so basically gay people bullied them and they changed their minds 🫶

[kyupidos]

updated 08/02/24: here is a part 2 to this analysis!

i think one of the most disturbing yet funny things about sebek antis is how they manage to twist a well written narration about internalized racism and the struggles of being a mixed person into something relating to “fascism”.

( btw there will be SLIGHTTT b7 spoilers in here but i personally think it’s whatever, no big difference to what we’ve known in the past nothing shocking. )

as his biggest fan AND as an ethnic person i feel as though you HAVE to be brain dead and/or white to not understand any of this. he doesn’t genuinely believe that humans are an inferior race, he has MULTIPLE instances praising human people ( riddle, epel ). and the evidence is in firstly, epel’s school uniform vignette where he praises his apple carving, saying it’s even nice enough to be used as a gift to malleus, and we KNOW how highly he regards him. and not once does he ever say anything like “for a human”, or insult him for “being human”, he appreciates his skill.

then there’s riddle’s ceremonial robes vignette, and while he does look down on him, it’s not really even about being human saying, “i would better be served by weight training than riding with a bunch of amateurs” ( in reference that here we see him initially join the equestrian club ). but once riddle proves his skill, sebek is more than willing to respect him highly.

( a small thing from the harveston event that i’ve been told of from a friend as well, he also holds high respect and love for marja. initially he wasn’t fond of her, but she gave him a squirrel plushie for the plush sled race. because of this he’s basically like, “she’s the only reason i got this far!!” and praises her. i haven’t played the event and this is what my friend says, but i figured to at least include this. )

the most insane part is you don’t even have to scour through every single moment he shows up on screen to know this, it even shows in his WIKI that one of his dislikes/pet peeves is “whining.” to be clear, while admittedly he does make patronizing remarks in regards to humans, it’s never enough to say he has a genuine hatred, and in fact he proves the opposite many times, in both epel and riddle’s case. and, in regards to the personality section, again referencing epel and riddle ( there may be other examples, they just happen to be the ones i found specifically ), he isn’t afraid to acknowledge and respect people for their talent or skills, even if they are human.

and if you’re wondering what i mean by it being ethnically related, fae are canonically ( say it with me now canonically, ) considered to be a minority race. being half human half fae is what makes him mixed, equally canonically so. as far as i’m concerned basically everyone in the fandom knows this but the complexity around this part of his character is just SO undermined that people are willing to call him “openly racist” ( to others, not his internalized racism ) and a FASCIST. are you serious?

we know already that sebek learned a lot of what he thinks now from his grandfather, ( sebek zigvolt wiki, trivia ) considering malleus and lilia commenting that his temper is a trait he gets from him ( scary monsters event story for malleus ), which of course is likely what garners his dislike towards his human aspect and his father for being human, even considering his father outputting, trailing off when noting he is human, while being prideful in his mother who is a fae ( birthday boy vignette ).

and what do we learn about his grandfather? he was in a war against humans, which makes it obvious enough how he would learn this internalized racism and why he would put down that part of his human identity. remember that fae age differently, this war wasn’t even that long ago for them. i think it’s a shame people seem to put so much love into diasomnia but not even recognize its lore that’s rooted so deep yet at the same time is right in front of our face.

but that’s all from me folks. willing to dive deeper into my sebek love and analysis if anyone wants it!

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part six

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru dreams of you; eagerly awaiting your response. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: cunnilingus, male masturbation. MDNI

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 1,596

𝜗𝜚 an: this update is entirely skippable, and i am requesting minors do not engage with this specific part. adults who are not a fan of explicit smut should skip this part too. the story reads normally with or without this chapter. thank you for respecting my wishes.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

Your quill hits paper once Satoru’s head hits his pillows and the potential contents of your note send his tired mind reeling. It’s only expected for his dreams to contain the potential outcome of your writing. It starts with you - all teary-eyed and sniffly as you scratch down your fears for Satoru’s eyes to consume. You tell him how it terrifies you to make your feelings known to the world and enter the judgmental eyes of the public and through the dark smudges of your ink he sees your blown out pupils - pulling him into your figure through the words on the page. Your body melts from his touch after being apart for so long - your sobs quieting as Satoru soothes you like he’s meant to. His hand finds your hair and he pets you lovingly, hushing your worries. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” his mouth tickles the curve of your ear as he whispers to you. “I won’t let them speak poorly about you,” he clicks his tongue, like the thought of someone daring to talk down on you deeply offends him. “You’re safe with me,” his lips touch your ear as he plants kisses, hands roaming your body to try to remedy your time apart. His words are doing something to you and he knows because he simply knows you too well. You can’t hide the way your body presses against his when he brushes his fingertips against your sensitive skin, exciting the Prince from how responsive you are. He pinches the fabric of your dress, the cotton material turning into luxurious silk that glides between his fingertips. 

His world spins and the two of you are in bed now, the blue night gown adorning your body slowly peels up from his doing, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. “Satoru-” you purr, biting your lip as his hands grab the plump fat of your sides, massaging his fingers into your thighs. You sigh, breath catching when his large palms grab you possessively; working his fingers deep into the muscles of your legs, his thumbs coming dangerously close to where your thighs meet your center - hiccupping as he pays extra attention to the spot that makes your stomach lurch and toes curl. “Satoru-” you whine again, noticing he is using the back of his hands to slowly inch your nightgown higher onto your body, threatening to reveal what’s underneath. You call out his name once more and he revels in the sound; adoring the syrupy tone you use to say his name. It sounds sleepy and desperate, with a hint of uncertainty. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks upon noticing your hesitation; his voice an octave deeper than usual and his eyes as dark as his intentions. His question is a nod back to the first intimate moment you both shared, knowing that you would recognize it too - relying on the pent up emotions of the unsatisfying end to your shared kiss to will you to let him continue. You look back at him, lids heavy with restless desire and he knew you wouldn’t say no. Couldn’t say no. “I’ll go slow,” he promises you, easing your apprehension and allowing you to melt into his touch. He adds his mouth into the mix, leaving slow, sloppy kisses to the skin of your inner thighs and your hips buck from the attention. You’re watching him intently, your unwavering gaze following his every move as he marks your body lovingly. He doesn’t bother to keep it clean - unable to stop his spit from staining your skin as he sloppily kisses your warm body. He makes a move to lift up your nightgown to your belly button - exposing the wet patch of your white panties while Satoru’s face rests between your thighs. He can sense how shy you suddenly become, your hand covering your mouth as you gawk at his blue eyes - glued to your twitching center. His thumb reaches up, cautiously swiping at the wet fabric of your gusset; gauging your reaction. You squirm, letting out a squeak and he continues prodding at your clothed entrance; dragging his knuckle against your folds. Your panties mold to the shape of your plump lips and Satoru shudders. His thumb inches up to your clit, softly circling it and taking note of the way your hips shudder from his curious attention. Satoru had never been with a woman and while he rubbed you through the thin fabric of your silk panties he took note of every curve of your twitching center. All though a virgin; Satoru had enough of a grasp through his extensive research he found in the pages of his favorite erotic literature. He was sure you would enjoy what he wanted to do to you - trusting the words on the pages he studied late at night while picturing you. “Such a beautiful and deserving Princess,” he mumbles, fingers still prodding and rubbing your puffy folds. You jump from the nickname, unsure of the new title he placed on you as he continued his sweet talking. “No one could ever keep this from me,” he spoke, “-and they would die from my hands if they tried,” he promises, eerily serious before leaning in to kiss your cunt; lips pursed against your pulsing clit. He loops his fingers into the gusset of your panties, pulling them down slowly; watching the sweetness pooling from your center sticking to the silk, creating strings while he dragged the article from your center down your legs. He licked his lips, already anticipating what he was going to do - enjoying how you fully trusted him - not asking questions but allowing him to show you just how much he loved you. It’s almost puppy-like the way his tongue lolls out of his mouth and attaches to your clit, dragging the rough muscle against the pearl between your legs. He messily licks, not bothering to make deliberate attacks to your core; instead he can’t help himself from desperately lapping up your juices. His tongue smears his saliva filthily against your wet heat, delving his tongue into your cunt to taste you from the source; groaning as the sweetness graces his taste buds. The saccharine juices do little to slow his mounting desire, causing him to grind his member against the mattress, itching for some kind of release while he gives you yours. He takes a moment to look up at you - your eyes painting the story of your love. Full of adoration, loyalty, lust, and weakness that he recognizes from before his world fell apart. Through his dreams he can feel the dagger of your raw emotion piercing his dormant heart - opening himself up to the reality of what he always knew. He needed you. All of you - and you did too. He was sure of it. He would do whatever it takes to see you look at him that way again.

While his subconscious processes the meaning of you in his dreams he continues performing cunnilingus. His spit trails from his lips while he messily kisses you and you’re squirming - unable to slow the roll of your hips while he repeatedly kisses and licks your sensitive bundle. “I need you,” you needily whine, gripping his white locks and keeping his soft lips attached to your lower pair, moaning breathlessly. “Satoru…” you’re begging and he peeks up at you, dragging his tongue slowly while he waits for you to make your point. “I want you Satoru,” you trail off, chest stuttering with every weak breath you take. Satoru pauses, turning his head to leave chaste kisses to your inner thigh before asking you to use your words. “All of it Satoru,” you cry, “I want all of it. All of you, Satoru,” you beg and he groans loudly, his brain growing fuzzy realizing what you were asking of him. He becomes too enthusiastic though, dick painfully hard and tip weepy - staining his sleep trousers which causes him to stir - regretfully departing him from the sensual scene his mind conjured during his slumber. 

“No!” he chokes out, waking up to a cold bed. His cock pulses regardless of the fact you’re not there and he reaches his hand down, tugging roughly on his length. He bites his lip, the sweaty white strands of his hair stick against his forehead while his taut stomach lurches every time his fist meets his sensitive tip - squeezing it harshly - picturing your squelching cunt instead of his pathetic hand. He reaches his climax quickly, using the visions of you begging for him in his dream to guide him to his peak. He pants while he cums, slowing down his strokes while his hot sperm spurts against his belly. He hisses from the contact - his surroundings slowly coming back to him while he gasps for breaths. He closes his eyes, scrunching them to distract from the feeling of tears starting to pool. 

He craves your body long after his release, unable to get the image of you underneath him out of his mind. And maybe it’s denial or delusion or lunacy or maybe even all three but he knows that is how you truly feel. It has to be. How could it not? How could he be the only one tortured by the absence of his other half? How could you not feel the need between you two that had been there since the beginning. Not just a sexual need - but an emotional and physical need too. The need to touch pinkies…to touch lips. 

He anxiously awaited the contents of your letter. 

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

taglist: skipping for nsfw updates

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[damiansgoodgirll]

Heyyyy I just read your JD X reader, who's like the baby of the group, and, omg, it was adorable.🩷🩷🩷

Could you go more into detail about A guy hitting on the reader, making them uncomfortable at the bar, and JD (specifically Rhea, but you can choose) helping them?

I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS WAS READY IN MY DRAFTS TO POST AND I NEVER POSTED IT IM SO SORRY 🥹🥹

the judgment day x reader (platonic) - jd is not in this sorry not sorry

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️reader being harassed by creepy men, touching without consent, a little angst, fluff and comfort

enough is enough

“do we have to?” dominik pouted like a little baby as you and damian were looking for a place to end the night after an incredible victory on tonight’s episode of raw.

“just for a few hours” rhea tried to reason with him. in all honesty, she wanted to go out and release some stress. she wanted to spend some time with her friends apart from the company and work.

while you and damian were looking on google what club you should hit, finn was finishing getting ready.

“just a few hours” dominik reasoned with rhea and she happily smirked when she heard those words coming from his mouth.

there was this club downtown, damian thought that it would be cool to try it and you all agreed.

sandwiched between finn and dominik, damian and rhea sitting in the front as they were singing their metal songs, making you chuckle from time to time.

once you got there, damian spotted a quiet table away from the chaos of people dancing. he thought it would be perfect so you could still talk and have fun without screaming over the loud music. as you sat down and ordered some drinks, you eyed two men staring at you. thinking that they might have been fans you quickly dismissed it and sipped your drink as nothing happened. but as time passed by, you couldn’t help but feeling someone’s eyes over you, watching you.

“who wanna dance?” rhea woke you from your trance.

of course damian said yes and in less than two seconds he was already hitting the dance floor followed by rhea dragging dominik.

finn stood back, enjoying his drink as he happily watched his friends having fun. you hesitated for a minute but when you saw that those two men were nowhere to be seen - thinking that they might have left the club - you relaxed a little and joined rhea and your friends on the dance floor.

dancing and laughing with damian as rhea tried to get dominik to loose a little. finn watching you all and taking videos of you to post on his stories.

it was just a normal night with your best friends.

but it took only a minute for you to separate from the rest of the group as you went quickly to the toilet that when you came back it felt like the crowd multiplied. you couldn’t spot rhea or damian, neither dominik. you couldn’t see finn sitting at the table - you couldn’t even see the table. panicking a little you tried to make your way into the crowd, walking between drunk and sweaty bodies. the smell in the air was thick and you started feeling nauseous.

minutes of waking and yet you couldn’t spot your friends.

suddenly you felt a rough hand circling your waist, almost dragging you out of the dance floor. you couldn’t see as you were standing giving your back to that man but it was a stranger’s touch. not comforting as rhea or damian. you felt him holding you by the hips as he turned you around and pushed you into the wall, near the toilet. you recognized his face - he was one of the man who was watching you as you walked into the club - and before your mind could register what was happening, you saw the second man approaching you.

“we saw you before with your friends” the first man spoke, his eyes never leaving your face. his breath smelled like cigarette and whiskey, it was making you even more nauseous “and me and my friend wondered what is a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this” he smirked, seeing how you were trying to free yourself.

“no baby” the second man, probably the older one spoke up “you’re not going anywhere” again, with a smirk too, he tried to put fear in you.

and he was doing it right. you weren’t afraid. you were terrified. you’ve neve been in a position like that. you were a wrestler for god’s sake and yet you felt paralysed in your steps.

squirming against the man’s body, you tried too free yourself but somehow he was overpowering you, making it impossible for you to move.

“don’t touch me…” you whispered, making the men laugh. the older one moved closer to you, bringing his hand over your back, lowering until he met your butt “i said don’t fucking touch me!” you tried to scream a little louder, hoping that someone could hear you but due to the loud music, your voice was almost like a whisper.

meanwhile, rhea and damian realised that you were missing. they didn’t know for how long - one second you were there dancing with them, one second later you were gone.

“where is she?” rhea whispered scanning the room trying to look for you.

damian, who was much taller, tried to see if he could recognise you from your hair but nothing, you were nowhere to be seen.

something caught damian’s eyes. he saw two men standing in front of something or more like someone. he couldn’t see the person behind but from how the men were imposing themselves on the possible victim , made damian’s blood boil. he called rhea and pointed out the scene so she could see what was going on too.

as she was standing there next to damian, something caught her attention - she would have recognised those sparkly shoes everywhere “oh shit…it’s her” she whispered not even sure damian heard that. she sprinted off to the little corner where you were and with damian following behind, she was able to get them away from you “get lost!” she screamed. both of them laughed at her reaction, definitely not intimidated by her or damian.

“enough!” damian screamed, his voice loud made a few people turn their heads.

“why?” the old man laughed “we were just having fun.”

“i said enough!” damian screamed a little more, his voice dark “get the fuck out of here before i call the bouncer” - damian was beyond mad.

in the meantime rhea moved past the men and carefully shielded you with her body. feeling how badly you were shaking, she let you cry on her shoulder. her hand softly scratching your back “it’s okay love, you’re safe…i got you, i got you pretty girl” but her words made you cry harder.

your mind wasn’t registering that it was over and that you were finally okay.

“it’s okay beautiful…” she kept whispering. rhea saw damian dealing with the two men as he got really mad and dragged them both out of the club.

lost in her arms, she held you while you cried. helping you calm down, making sure that you were okay before moving to the boys.

“can we go back to the hotel please?” your broken voice whispered, making rhea’s heart clench.

“of course baby…let’s go” she held you by the hand as she walked out of the club with you. texting damian that you were both waiting the team outside, he called the boys to let them know that you were about to leave.

finn and dominik didn’t know what happened as they were both chatting at the table but grew immediately worried when they received that text from damian.

they saw you crying in rhea’s arms as they both met you in the parking lot.

“what happened?” finn was looking between rhea and damian, searching for an answer.

damian didn’t answer, too pissed at the men.

“two men harassed her…” rhea whispered softly, trying not to hurt you more than you already were.

“what?” both finn and dom were speechless. why didn’t they see anything?

“we’re going back to the hotel if you don’t mind” rhea’s voice was soft, calming, making you relax against her body.

all of the men nodded.

the air while damian was driving was thick. the only noise in the car were your soft cries as rhea sat next to you and kept holding you.

when you got to the hotel, rhea insisted for you to go to her room instead and you couldn’t say no. in reality you didn’t want to be left alone and being in your team presence was probably the best decision.

as you were changing in her hotel bathroom, rhea softly explained to finn and dom what happened, how the men kept touching you and wouldn’t leave you alone.

you knew she told them what happened because none of them left that room that night. finn constantly checking on you, damian trying to crack a joke from time to time, dominik offering you his snacks and rhea gently rubbing your back as you tried to fall asleep.

your cries stopped and were replaced by soft snoring that made the group laugh.

feeling safe, you let yourself doze off, trying to find peace in your dreams and trying to forget about that awful night.