#but I think in truth NOBODY is made for them- people just have to grow and improve to be able to maintain them

[chalk-homunculus]

I think... in many ways, I really just want to feel loved, but I'm scared of accepting it, and scared of feelings I feel like I "can't control" so I end up taking an overly analytical approach and overjustifying things like natural curiosity to myself by calling things "just scientific fascination" and "morbid curiosity" (because in my mind, things I feel I am not "allowed to" experience, be curious about, or consider, seem like they're taboo, hence 'morbid'). I can't really fault others for thinking that's messed up. I've definitely ruined chances at receiving any sort of care and/or love in the past by not only pushing people away in delusional self-sabotage states, but also by treating people like equations or research projects. I sort of hate admitting to myself that I DON'T know or understand everything, and that doing so is impossible no matter how much I like knowing things, especially since my inability to just trust and take what people tell me at face value is in juxtaposition with that desire for knowledge and thorough understanding. It is actually me and my own doubt of people that drives me into over-questioning everything I DO know.

I also am terrible at paying attention to others. I know this. I forget that other people are, well, people, and that they won't know how much I care about them unless I express it and KEEP expressing it. Not just verbally but with things like asking people how they are doing- assuming they'll just tell me if they want me to know is something I do, but I know very well how easy it is to feel like a burden and close your troubles away from others in fear of being "too much" to deal with. I've reflected on this, and my unhealthy manner of expressing fondness and trust for others being that I'm far too quick to traumadump and talk about myself, in the past, but I've not been making nearly enough progress on it.

I think, I seek and crave for too much clarity without offering any myself, that has driven people away from me in the past, and it's purely my own flaws causing it.

Maybe with another year or two of reflecting, I will be able to handle something like a qppr without it falling apart because of my aloofness and inability to pay enough attention to others. Perhaps in half a decade, I could consider a romantic relationship, if I've made any progress with all that + trauma work, by then.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

found family | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x jordan nobbs

summary: how it came to be.

You never really understand the importance of family, after all you grew up with an alcoholic and drug addict of a father who made it very well known he didn’t care about you from the very day you were born but meeting Leah and Jordan changed everything for you– They became your found family.

You had been a part of the Arsenal Girls’ center of excellence since you were about nine or ten, however, if you asked Leah then she would tell you that she’s practically watched you grow up right in front of her.

It was somewhat true at least.

You guess that you can say she has always been watching out for you, even when you weren't  aware of it.

The only family member that actually gave a damn about you was your grandma– your dads’s mum. That lady adored you, fussed over you and made sure that you never went without so when she died when you were 15-years-old, you were completely heartbroken.

Everything started to fall apart.

You were left with an ass hole of a father who was nothing but neglectful, he couldn’t have cared less about you and it wasn’t just his words that he lashed out with, but his fists too.

It wasn’t long after that when people started to realise that everything wasn’t as perfect as it seemed behind closed doors, your dad had always been clever at hiding the truth but even the best kept secrets have a way of coming to light eventually.

Leah was the first person to start piecing things together.

During the time of being eased into the first team, ever the observant one, Leah would notice the way that nobody ever came to pick you up after training on the days that you were there.

“Calm down, I’m sure there’s a reasonable excuse for them not being there,” Jordan would try to reason with her worried girlfriend, “Perhaps her parents are just at work.”

Her concern only got worse though when you would arrive late in the mornings, stumbling in with a messy kit and barely holding it together, along with seeing the way you would scarf down any snacks left at the club, like you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long.

Of course you think you’re doing an amazing job of hiding it– Keeping your head down, making jokes and pretending like everything is totally fine.

Even when it’s not, and the blonde woman is able to see right through it.

“Where the hell are this kid’s parents?” Leah couldn’t help but think to herself after watching you slip out the door alone.

You’re oblivious to realise how Leah would frown every time she sees that you’re alone or how she would shake her head when she watches you drag your feet in the morning.

Of course she can see through you acting like a menace.

“I’m telling you Jord, there’s something seriously going on,” Leah brought up the conversation with her girlfriend again as they left training for the day, her own maternal instinct kicking in

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jordan attempts to reassure her girlfriend as they make their way over to the car, “The kid is old enough to be able to make her own home anyways,” She added.

“I feel like there’s something more going on,” Leah murmured, her hand resting on her slightly swollen belly, “You can’t deny that you don’t feel like there’s something suspicious going on?” She asked the older woman.

“I don’t know, Le,” Jordan admitted, shrugging her shoulders, “Do you think you’re maybe just overthinking things because you care about this kid?” She wondered.

“No… I don’t know, it just seems like there’s something else going on,” Leah replied, biting her bottom lip as she tossed her bag into the boot of the car before climbing in the car, “I know you might think I’m overthinking this, but I have a gut instinct about this.”

There was definitely something wrong.

Leah couldn’t shake the feeling about something being off, every day she watched you, the nagging sense that things weren’t quite right only grew stronger.

The blonde’s worry only continued, especially on one particular miserable day where the rain was pouring down and it was the kid of relentless downpour that would soak you to the bone within seconds, she was driving back home from a quick check up with the physio when she spotted you trudging down the road, you were completely drenched through and shivering in the thin jacket that you wore, your kit bag slung over your shoulder as you tried to shield yourself from the rain with the attempt of a flimsy hood.

“What the hell,” Leah’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened in disbelief, she couldn’t believe the sight that she was seeing at that moment– You were there, walking alone in the freezing rain, not a single adult in sight.

Without even thinking twice, the blonde slowed the car down and pulled up beside you, “Hey, kid!” She rolled down her window and called to get your attention, “Do you want a ride? It’s absolutely hammering it down out here.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” You're quick to disagree, shaking your head as your teeth chatter from the freezing weather, “It’s not much further to talk, I’m good.”

“Kid, come on. Let me just give you a ride,” Leah was relentless to give you a ride as she leaned over to open the passenger door, “You’re bound to get sick otherwise.”

You're hesitant to agree to the blonde’s offer, you didn’t want to give anything away but you couldn’t deny the warmth and safety of her car would be better than being out in this miserable weather.

“Okay,” You gave in and opened the car door, sliding in as your teeth still continued to chatter from the freezing temps, “Thank you.” You mumbled, trying to not meet her gaze as you stared down at your sodden trainers.

“It’s okay kid, anytime,” Leah said softly, cranking up the heat in the car to help you warm up, asking you for the address which you gave her and she started to drive again, “So, is there any particular reason you’re out walking alone in this weather?” She asked, trying to tread carefully and not spook you when asking questions.

“Oh, uh, my dad is working late so he couldn’t pick me up,” You were quick to make up the excuse, knowing full well that if you had asked your father for a lift home then he would have most likely laughed in your face.

Leah clicked her tongue in disagreement, “What about your mum?” She wondered.

That question was one you would love to know yourself as well, the said women abandoned you at the tender age of 2 and didn’t think twice about it.

“She’s dead,” You didn’t think twice about telling her, because to you she might as well be.

Leah glanced sideways at you with her brows furrowing slightly at the casual way you spoke about your mother, sensing there was more to the story but she didn’t want to press for answers.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that kid,” Leah replied softly, her voice filled with genuine sympathy that made your chest tighten.

It wasn’t something you were used to hearing, especially not from someone who actually meant it.

“It’s fine, it was a long time ago,” You shrugged your shoulders and brushed it off as you focused on the rain pattering against the windshield, with a hope that the blonde would just drop it.

“Listen kid, if you ever need a ride to training or you know, just someone to talk to…” The blonde began to talk, glancing over to try and see your reaction, “All you have to do is ask, alright? I don’t mind you giving you my number.” She added.

“Thanks,” You murmured in a low tone of voice, although you weren’t quite sure if you would ever take up on that offer as trust wasn’t something that came easily to you, you had your walls built up so high around you.

It was the only way to protect yourself.

The next week at training, you’re late again. This time though, you’re not just dragging your feet but also feeling pale, shaky and you’re barely able to even stand up properly.

Before you know it, your vision blurs and you can feel yourself stumbling but before you can drop to the floor, Leah’s there in an instant to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Whoa,” Leah held you steady in her arms as she guided you towards the bench in the changing room, “It’s alright, come and take a seat.” She told you, gently.

“M’ fine,” You murmured as you felt yourself being pushed down onto the hard bench.

The blonde wasn’t entirely convinced, “No you’re not, you can barely stand up,” She paused as she routed through her bag and pulled a protein bar out for you to eat, “Here, eat this. Please.”

You don’t hesitate to tear into it, the gnawing hunger finally easing up a little bit.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?” Leah questioned, softly.

You hesitated the answer, your mind scrambling to remember the last time you sat down to eat something that wasn’t a hastily grabbed snack, “Uh,” You stammered, the pause in your response telling Leah everything she needed to know.

The blonde sighed softly, crouching down to meet your eyes, “Hey, why don’t you come around for dinner tonight?” She suggested, her voice warm and inviting, “I know you like pizza, right? We could order that, watch a movie and just chill.”

“I… I don’t know, my dad’s working and all,” You find it difficult to agree as you look down at your fingers and fidget with the edge of your sleeve, “If I’m not back by a certain time then my dad will worry about where I am.”

“I get it, but if you’re dad’s working then surely he won’t mind you being around teammates?” Leah gave you a sympathetic smile, taking to mask the concern that flickered across her face, “How about you come for just an hour or so? Have some pizza with us and then I’ll drive you home right after if you want.”

“Okay, alright. Just an hour though,” You agree begrudgingly with the blonde, knowing she wouldn’t let it go.

“Deal,” Leah grinned, relief washing over her face with the promise of a warm meal and some company, even just for an hour, it felt like a small victory in a battle she was determined to win.

“Jord? We have a guest for dinner!” Leah called out, her voice warm as she gently rested her hands on your shoulders as she guided you through the front door of their home.

The older woman had made it home before her girlfriend, already being given the heads up ahead of you coming to their home for dinner so the pizza was on its way. 

You were weary enough to be here, anxious in case your dad did find out where you were.

Of course he wasn’t at work, more like down the pub instead, so maybe he wouldn’t care if you were home or not after all.

“Hey kid,” Jordan appeared from around the corner, a dish towel slung over her shoulder as she smiled warmly at you, “I heard you like pizza, huh?”

“I do,” You quietly replied in agreement, fumbling at the loose string of your club branded jumper before Leah gestured you to follow her into the living room.

“I ordered cheese pizza because of Miss picky over here,” Jordan joked, pointing her index finger in the direction of her girlfriend, “Are you okay with that?” She checked.

“It’s okay, I like cheese,” You told the women as you settled on the sofa, you couldn’t help but notice various baby items scattered throughout the living room and you suddenly felt a bit curious to ask questions, “Are you going to have a baby soon?” The words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“We are,” Leah said, her smile gentle as she rested her hands on her growing bump, “Only another few months to go till we get to meet our little bubba.”

Jordan joined Leah on the sofa, her arm draped casually over the back of Leah’s seat as she shot you a friendly smile, “We’re really excited to meet them, but can I let you in on a little secret?” She asked, leaning in as if to share a secret only meant for two of you to hear.

You couldn’t help but nod, intrigued to know what it was, “What is it?”

“I’m actually pretty nervous as well,” Jordan confessed, glancing at Leah with a faint small smile, “There’s still so much to do before they arrive, so it’s still kind of overwhelming, you know?” She admitted.

You nodded, somewhat understanding the weight of feeling overwhelmed more than they both knew, “I do,” You agreed quietly, picking at the loose string of your jumper.

Despite the initial hesitation being there, the warmth of the home and the kindness of the two voices began to chip away at the walls you had put up.

The pizza arrived, small chatter was engaged and sure enough, Leah stuck to her word and an hour later, she drove you back to the empty, stark home where you lived.

You felt something that you hadn’t felt in a very long time around these two women, you felt safe.

The all too familiar gut feeling returned that Leah couldn’t shake as she pulled off from the being parked up outside your house and drove back to her own home.

“There’s something going on, more than what we know,” Leah brought up the conversation with Jordan that night as they got into bed, her voice tight with worry, “I’m really worried about the kid. Tell me you’re not worried about her as well?”

Of course I am,” Jordan pulled back the duvet and settled in beside her,  “You’re not imagining things, there’s definitely something more going on behind closed doors than we know about.”

Leah turned to face Jordan, her brows furrowed with frustration and helplessness, “Then what do we do? We can’t just ignore it,” She said, her voice wavering, “We know there’s something wrong, and we can’t just sit here and do nothing. If anything was to happen to her, then I… I will never forgive myself!”

“Le, I know you’re worried about her as am I,” Leah sighed softly, wrapping her arms around the blonde and resting a hand on her bump, her thumb tracing soothing circles, “I get it, babe, I do and I am just as concerned about her as you are, but we can’t do anything about proof. All we can do for now is be there for the kid, make sure she’s okay and that nothing serious happens.” She added.

“I… I know,” Leah nodded, but her mind was still restless with thought, staring at the ceiling with the weight of the unspoken promise heavy on her shoulders, “I’ll do whatever I can to protect that kid.” She vowed, ready to act when the time came.

Over the next several weeks, Leah and Jordan made more of a conscious effort to keep an eye on you during the time you were at training– Making sure to always include you in conversations and ask how you are doing, Leah would often slip you a protein bar when she noticed you hadn’t eaten and Jordan would offer you a ride home, whether you tried to refuse it or not.

You had definitely wormed your way into their heart and neither of them had a problem admitting that.

Then, one day there was something more serious that happened and both women were alerted of the situation immediately.

At first Leah and Jordan just thought you were running late for training again, the fact that you missed their previous texts and calls was a cause for concern in itself, but nothing new when you had a habit of not always checking your phone. Still, there was an uneasy feeling that neither of them could shake and when you finally stumbled in the state that you did, bruised and limping, it became clear that something far worse had happened.

“Now do you believe me there is something going on?” Leah said urgently, her eyes locking onto Jordan’s with a mix of fear and frustration, gesturing towards you while she noted the bruise on your cheek and the way you favoured one leg, “I knew it, I knew there was something wrong!”

The concern and protectiveness that the blonde felt for you was something else.

“I do… I do believe you,” Jordan’s face fell as she took in the sight of you, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, “But what do we do now?”

“The kid needs help,” Leah said determined, her mind already made up, “I know you think I’m crazy, and maybe I am for suggesting this, but I want her to move in with us.”

Jordan was a bit more hesitant to agree to the idea, “I… I don’t know, Le. We’ve already got our hands full with the little one on the way,” She pointed out gently, trying to remind her girlfriend of their current situation, “Do you really think it’s a good idea? A newborn baby and a teenager– It’s a lot to take on.”

“I don’t care, we can manage it– We can handle it!” Leah was still more determined than ever with this decision, “I…I know it’s a lot, but I can’t just sit back and do nothing about it, can I? She needs us, Jord and if we don’t help her, then who will?”

Jordan exhaled a deep sigh, running her hand through her hair as she weighed out the gravity of Leah’s plea, she knew her girlfriend’s heart was in right place, but the practicality of the situation loomed large, “Okay,” She finally gave in reluctantly as there was no point in trying to argue about it when her stubborn girlfriend already had made her mind up about this. After all it would be a bad idea to disagree with a pregnant lady after all, “Alright, fine, if this is what you really want to do then I’m on board.”

“I do, I really do want this,” Leah’s expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over her as she reached out to squeeze Jordan’s hand, “Thank you, I just… I can’t turn my back on her, not now. She needs a safe place, a real home.”

“I know, babe,” Jordan said, her grip on Leah’s hand tightening, “I know and we’ll make it work, whatever it takes– we’ll figure it out together as a team.”

Leah nodded and gave her girlfriend a genuine smile, “As a team,” She repeated, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “Just get ready for the chaos.” She joked.

“Oh with a newborn baby and a teenager under one roof? I couldn’t think of anything more chaotic,” Jordan replied playfully, pulling her girlfriend in closer, “But it could also be kind of fun as well, right?”

“You and I have different versions of having fun,” Leah teased, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes, “But, yeah, it might just be the best sort of cray we’ve ever signed up for.”

It was surprisingly a lot easier to get your father to agree to it, he was more than willing to wash his hands off you, he was so disinterested about you swear you actually saw him smile for the first time. An actual genuine smile on his face, which just made you more sad about the fact that your dad really could care less about you.

Maybe it was the fact that he never got the son he so badly wanted?

“Have her,” The man sneered, “I’ve washed my hands off her, she’s your problem now.”

His parting words stung a lot and while Leah’s hands clenched in anger, bug Jordan’s arm around her kept her grounded.

The blonde’s eyes were blazing with anger, “You are unbelievable,” She spat out, her tone sharp and unfiltered, “You’ve got a kid right in front of you, a kid who’s done nothing but try to survive in spite of you, and all you can do is shrug her off like she’s nothing? You don’t even have the decency to pretend to care.”

Jordan just held Leah tighter, her silent support a calm anchor in the storm of emotions, “Let’s go, Le,” She urged softly, though her own gaze was cold and unforgiving as it lingered on your father.

The blonde’s anger didn’t fade, if anything, it deepened as she looked at the man who’d treated you as a burden instead of his own flesh and blood, “She’s not some problem to be handed off, and she’s not a mistake you can just ignore. She’s a kid, your kid and the way you’ve treated her is disgusting.”

Your father scoffed, as if he was barely affected by Leah’s words, “She’s your problem now,” He repeated in a gruff voice, “I want nothing to do with the brat.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, the venom in his words made her stomach churn in disgust. Opening her mouth to say more, Jordan gently tugged at her arm with a silent reminder that nothing else could be said would change the man in front of them.

Turning away from your father, Leah relented as her expression softened when she looked at you, but the fire in her eyes never dimmed, “Let’s just go.”

“Come on little one,” Jordan protectively guided you out of the house with her arm wrapped around you, the two women helped you gather the small amount of belongings that you had and you left the house, “Let’s get you out of here.”

You should have felt instant relief leaving that house, but instead you just felt incredibly sad that the father you grew up with, regardless of how much of a neglectful bastard he was, he was and always still would be your dad.

A part of you foolishly hoped that one day he’d see you, really see you, and want you around.

That never did happen though.

“I know this isn’t easy for you kid,” Leah noticed the flicker of sadness in your eyes and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “But you’re not alone now, okay? We’re here and we’re not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

Jordan nodded in agreement, giving you a small encouraging smile, “Le’s right, we’ve got you little one,” She told you gently, “Whatever you need, whenever you need us, we’re here.”

And from there on, you were about to gain the family that you’d always deserved– A real home, with two people who cared a hell of a lot about you to fight for you, even when the world seemed to have given up.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[hyucksos]

heavy is the crown — mark lee [preview]

pairing: mark lee x f!reader genre: fantasy/supernatural au, crime-action, angst, romance preview wc: 1.2k (actual wc: tbc) synopsis: a series of visions lead you to mark lee, a seemingly normal human boy with no ties to the world of the gifted— your world. as such, you're concerned as to why you keep seeing him in your dreams, and the army of wraiths that just can't seem to leave him alone despite him being powerless... or so you thought. as he joins you at the academy, you learn that there may be more to this mark lee than you thought there was. taglist: open | click here to join

You had no idea what Taekwondo was. At least, not until today.

According to Donghyuck, it’s a form of martial arts, similar to the combat training you go through at the academy every day. You weren’t actually sure on whether to believe him or not considering Donghyuck is Donghyuck and his whole life before joining the academy sounded like a jumble of lies (you learnt not to trust him wholeheartedly after he convinced you that bananas were considered a delicacy in the outside world. He made you eat them with a knife and fork for a full week).

But now, as you’re sitting amongst the sea of heads in the stands overlooking the arena below, you think that Donghyuck might just be telling the truth this time.

You tug on the gloves that hug your hands and forearms, the latex that sticks uncomfortably to your skin not at all helping in easing your nerves. You rarely step foot outside the academy— not like it’s ever been restricted; you know being in unfamiliar environments could potentially spike your elemental, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally committing arson, or anything like that. As much as you hate your gloves, you know they keep you safe, which is why you keep them on.

Weirdly enough, nobody seems to pay you any mind; not with your gloves, not even with the bulky silhouette of your hanbok-like uniform you knew you should have changed out of before coming here. It’s as though you’re invisible, everyone’s eyes fixed on the arena below.

“The next match is about to begin. In the blue corner representing Blue Wave Taekwondo, here to show off his agility and skill— let’s give it up for Jeno Lee!”

You startle when the people around you cheer loudly, and you slowly bring your own hands together to join in on the applause. You can’t really make out the athlete’s face as he steps into the ring, most of his features blocked by the helmet he dons. You’re curious, having never seen a sparring match that required this much gear before— then again, you suppose that's just how it goes for an ordinary human sport.

“And in the red corner, known for his speed and precision, Kick It Dojang’s very own Mark Lee! Let’s give him a warm welcome!”

The buzz of the crowd fades into the background the moment your gaze lands on the boy decked in red and white, but you don’t register it until a second later— not until he straightens his back after bowing to his opponent, and his eyes meet yours.

A sharp pain suddenly hits your temples, and you hiss as your head falls to your hands. Immediately, the world starts to warp.

You’re looking at the boy from your visions, the boy you now know as Mark Lee. His head lies in your lap, lifeless, his skin pale and cold. Shadows swirl around you, whispering things you don’t understand.

“Mark,” you breathe, voice trembling. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.”

But nothing.

The whispers grow louder, your own voice feeling like it's being drowned out by their presence. Your chest starts to tighten with the weight of the darkness-

The vision cuts off abruptly, and you’re left breathless as your eyes refocus to the arena before you. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but Mark is still in the ring, already in the midst of sparring with his opponent.

Your visions of him were what led you here in the first place, each one like fragments of a puzzle pulling you closer and closer. They're mostly brief, but you know they mean something, especially because of the shadows that would often surround him as they hiss with intent you couldn't decipher.

But this one was different.

For the first time, he had a name. For the first time, you saw him up close— vulnerable, his life resting in your hands as the wraiths closed in around you both.

It felt like the collision of two separate worlds that were never supposed to merge, and you know that this was no ordinary vision. Whatever it is that just happened... it was only the beginning.

And you knew you needed to let Mark know.

Mark bounces his head to the music blasting through his wired earpieces, his eyes trained on his scuffed Converses as he walks. He's been told it's a real bad habit, to not watch where he's going (especially when he couldn't even hear his surroundings most of the time), but he swears he's working on it. Plus, his headphones aren't even the noise-cancelling kind, so he's still able to hear what goes on around him, albeit only partly; like right now.

Mark stops in his tracks, pulling out one of the buds from his ears as he looks behind him.

Nothing.

It's been happening a lot recently, to get the sensation of someone whispering in his ear only for him to look up and realise that he's alone. He's tried brushing it off as a gust of wind— even a figment of his own imagination— but he knows better than to believe that, not when the night is too still, too quiet, and he's far from losing his mind.

He also knows better than to ask if anybody's there— he's seen enough horror movies to know how badly that would end for him.

Perhaps walking through the park at this hour wasn't his best idea in the first place.

Mark stares idly at the barely-lit pavement for a few seconds more before bringing his earbud back to his ear, turning back around to resume his walk— only to be met with you.

He stumbles backwards with a startled gasp, his phone almost falling from his hand before he realises that no, you're not a ghost.

You’re the girl from earlier.

Of course, Mark remembers you. How could he not, when you're the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of spectators? It was odd enough as it is for him to be distracted right before a match, but there was just something about you that pulled him in; Mark couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Maybe it was your odd choice of attire, the traditional Korean-inspired silhouette of your all-black trench coat that cinched at your waist, or maybe it was the latex gloves that caught his attention first.

Either way, he’s feeling it again, that magnetic pull that renders him unable to look away, and it's not just because you're pretty— it feels as though there's literally something weighing him down, pulling on his chest.

Before he could question it, he notices your eyes lose focus on him, settling on something behind him instead. You’re the first one to break the silence.

"Duck."

Mark frowns. "What?"

In a split second, you're already ripping off your gloves, a flame roaring to life in your palm before you hurl the fire over his shoulder.

Mark’s confusion morphs into a split-second horror as he instinctively ducks, stumbling over his own two feet as he hears the air behind him fill with an otherworldly screech. Still, he dares himself to look over his shoulder, just in time to see multiple shadowy figures burst into flames before dissolving into nothingness.

The sight only causes Mark to fall on his butt, his neck snapping back towards you.

“What the hell was that?” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “And- what- what did you just do?”

You let out a shaky breath, flicking your bare wrist before you put on your glove, almost nonchalantly. Almost like you didn’t just shoot fire out of your hands.

Oh, maybe he is losing his mind.

[adoresia]

— Cold Truths

⋆.˚ CHARACTERS : Megumi and Toji Fushiguro

⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS : In which Toji opens up about how he got the scar on his lip

⋆.˚ WARNINGS : none

⋆.˚ SIERRA SPEAKS : first jjk fic kinda scarttt😣 this was requested by a new friend of mine!! 😋😋 (everybody clap for @mistymuimui ) anyways i got kinda lazy towards the end so i might change the ending a bit later but, HERE YOU GO!!,

“HA, beat you again. You know what that means, right?”

Toji exclaimed proudly before leaning back onto the couch with the smuggest look on his face, still playing around with the toothpick in his mouth from dinner previously. Both he and Megumi had been abusing the new console ever since Toji got it for Megumi’s recent birthday, although it seems Toji got it for himself considering he used it more than Megumi did.

This particular evening both the boys had been going for rounds on rounds playing a PVP game together. But you know Toji HAD to make a bet for whoever wins.

“Whatever, you cheated so it’s not fair.” Megumi protested. This was the 5th time this week he was on dish duty for losing against his father.

“Not my fault you’re so bad at it, get better.” Toji said while he relaxed his head back on both his arms, “Your hands are gonna grow wrinkles from washing these plates so much.” He laughed, although Megumi wasn’t all that amused.

“You say that every time but the bet is always whoever wins has to wash the dishes, it’s like you want my hands to grow wrinkles.” With his hands spread out in front of him, he looked at what essentially everyday dishwashing was doing to him cursed under his breath. His eyebrows unconsciously furrowed in protest.

“Like I said kid, get better.” Toji yawned the last part tiredly as he closed his eyes in victory, glad that he made it another day not having to wash any dishes.

Megumi just shook his head in annoyance, honestly how did it get to this point? Toji was such a kid he took back Megumi’s birthday present without actually saying it. Although Megumi wasn’t that annoyed, at least he got to spend time with his dad after all this time of not having him around. As he pondered this he recognised, that there wasn’t that much he knew about Toji. Only the fact that he was once part of the Zenin clan but escaped, barely… Megumi didn’t care, not until now at least.

“Your scar, why do you have it.” He questioned out of the blue.

“What? This isn’t gonna get you out of doing the dishes by the way.” Toji’s eyes blinked open from his light nap in confusion.

“Well that would’ve been a good idea but if I don’t do them unfortunately nobody won’t.”

Toji laughed at his response “You just called me lazy. No play station for you anymore.”

“You use it more than me? Can you just answer my question?”

“I was thrown into a pit with cursed spirits, fought them all and got this scar. They didn’t expect me to survive that but I did and now I got something cool to remember it by, wanna take a closer look?” He pointed at his scar, unphased by how serious the situation was.

“Why?”

“Why what, you ask too many questions ‘gum. I just answered you.” He waved off his other question and got comfortable on the couch again.

“Well, okay then,” Megumi answered, stacking the plates on top of each other while carrying them to the kitchen.

While Toji ‘rested his eyes’ as his head fell back onto the couch. Unwanted memories filled the void of his mind. Recollections from the past about the Zenin clan and their treatment of him as a child led to his current situation. The reason he could no longer continue to live while carrying the burden of the zen in name plastered to him. The reason he took Megumi’s mother’s last name. Fushiguro. The reason he had a constant reminder of his childhood every time he looked into a mirror, or a camera, or the photo of him and Megumi which sat on the Lock Screen of his phone.

All of these reminders manipulated him into not bringing any of his past up to Megumi, of all people. He didn’t want his son to think any less of him because he was treated so weakly as a child. That didn’t matter to him, the only concern he had was his future. But if Megumi had questions about his past, not answering them made him look even weaker.

Toji’s eyes had been glued on the ceiling for a while now, thoughts still lingering while time was ticking. He wasn’t aware of how much time he had spent sitting in all these memories of his past, and the sun was sinking as it lowered. The sky, was ablaze, with the fire of the setting sun.

During the time Toji drifted and circled in his ruminant flashbacks, Megumi had already cleared the dining table, cleaned all the dishes (against his own will), fed his dogs and was already in bed.

Toji grumbled in fatigue, pushing himself off the couch, and stretching his muscles into a more comfortable position as he stood up. After sitting all day and playing on Megumi’s console his whole body was sore, and seemed to have moulded into his sitting position. Simultaneously, he jaunted drowsily to his room, not before involuntarily stopping at the open doorway of Megumi’s bedroom.

Megumi played lazily across his bed in the company of his divine dogs beside him, with whatever book he was reading in his left hand while he used to other to soothingly pet his dogs.

“Why are you still here?” Megumi had noticed his dad staring at him for the last 2 minutes but eventually, it started to creep him out, because the lights in his room were off and Toji looked like a heavily muscular cursed spirit standing in the doorway.

“Why are you so rude I’m litterallyour dad.”

“I’m waiting for you to explain why you’ve been standing there staring at me for so long.”

Megumi was met with silence, Toji leaned on the doorway staring at the ground while scratching the back of his head trying to find an answer somewhere in his mind.

“Hello…”

“The zenin, pushed me into the pit” He blurted out.

“They didn’t like me much, thought less of me cause I had no cursed energy so I guess they didn’t want me ruining their reputation or whatever.” He yawned out.

It took a while for Megumi to process what he had just said and so the aroma of the room was quiet for a bit. Toji’s mind turmoiled into possible reactions from Megumi.

“Okay, thanks for answering my question.” Megumi returned before going back to reading his book.

“Why are you acting so nonchalant, you were the one who was so curious.” Toji questioned, was his awsome story not that interesting to Megumi?

“Yeah but I got my answer now so thanks I guess.”

“Wow that’s it? You don’t think I’m weak for letting them basically bully me?” Toji asked, questioning if maybe he put it off for so long for no reason at all.

“No? You were a kid. Aren’t all kids weak?” Megumi said still following the lines in his book.

“Nah not me, otherwise I would’ve been dead ages ago but here I am! With a cool scare on my lip. Do you think it’s cool?”

“If you say so”

“Just admit it ‘gum.” Toji walked away from the door towards Megumi attacking him with fake punches, messing up his hair with his fist.

He was glad that Megumi didn’t care as much about his past, however it did feel nice to finally share some of what happened to him as a kid.

“Okay okay fine it’s cool or whatever.” Megumi admitted, playfullytrying to fight off his dad secretly loving the time they got to spend together.

“Thank you for sharing it with me though, I was close to finding you a therapist” Megumi admitted jokingly.

“A therapist? The hell do I need a therapist for?” He argued.

“You were sat on the sofa with the meanest mug on your face, I know you were thinking about what I asked you.” Megumi admitted.

Toji grew embarrassed, he had not realised how wrapped up in his thoughts he had been. So much so that Megumi knew why he was so tense.

“Don’t watch me like that again. Let’s play another round of that game. Loser washes the dishes for a month.” Toji’s heavy figure jumped off of Megumi’s bed and ran out of the room like a child before he could get an answer.

“It’s not like I have a choice.” Megumi sighed in defeat, picking himself up and walking out of his room to see his dad, controller already in hand ready to beat his ass again.

“Hurry up and grab the controller boy, it’s about to be a whole lot of washing dishes for you this month.”

[fishermanshook]

SH4RK B!TES !!

( ellen joe ) + gn!reader

୧⋆｡🪭. -ʚɞ relationship h/c’s , friends to lovers , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

Never one to think she had the time or energy to spend on relationships that ventured out of the comfort zone of “friends”, Ellen Joe can’t remember the last romantic relationship she shared with somebody in the past four years.

But then, you come into the picture, and everything [including how she’s ever felt towards anyone before] changes for the greater good.

꒰wc꒱ 856

✧ Ellen Joe, the newest member of Victoria Housekeeping and one of the most popular girls in her school, has never once thought of love. Okay, maybe that’s bending the truth a bit. She has thought of it, and on more than one occasion, but the shark is already busy enough. Ellen’s been tied up with school work, her friends, and most importantly, a work field she keeps hidden from all. She holds the friends she has tightly knitted to her and isn’t one to take up new activities without good reason. She truly just doesn’t have the time for it.

✧ Ellen Joe who, as oblivious as ever, doesn’t pick up on her own growing feelings until one of her friends asks her about it. A “close friend” has now become something seemingly more than that, and she [plus the entire school atp] wants to learn more about it. Overall, it’s an awkward conversation that ultimately ends in the shark realizing her “new” feelings.

↳ Unless you’re the most oblivious person in New Eridu, her affection towards you isn’t well hidden. A slight blush accompanied by a small smile appears on her face when you appear by her side. Ellen’s tail sways quicker than usual as she tries to calm it along with her ever-reddening face.

“You even gave them your last lollipop! What do you mean you didn’t realize you liked them?” Her friend asks with confusion and a bit of rage laced in her voice. “I’ve been your best friend since freshman year and you’ve never once given me a lollipop, let alone your last.”

“I was feeling nice…I hadn’t realized it truly meant something. But the more that I think about it, I guess I do like them. Like, a lot.” Ellen realizes.

✧ Ellen Joe who confesses her feelings to you in front of a sunset background on the top of her school. It’s the only place she can think of that will spare her just a bit of privacy from the prying eyes of others. She hides her face behind her tail as she reveals her feelings towards you, and is met with a kiss on the lips as a confirmation that her feelings are mutual.

✧ Ellen Joe isn’t one to delve much into the romantics outside of the privacy of her own home, or at least with the two of you alone. The most that she will do for you in public is hold your hand while she walks you to your next class.

↳ Ellen seems like one to not enjoy physical affection, but when she’s away from the crowd [mostly people that she knows], she becomes much more affectionate. Pressing soft, little kisses to the temples of your forehead before slinking her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer as the two of you cuddle on her bead.

✧ Ellen Joe who, despite her lack of physical affection in public, wants people to know that you are at least taken by her. She doesn’t want to rub it in the face of anyone, but as long as people know that you and her are a thing, she feels a bit more at ease. It’s the knowledge that nobody’s going to be trying to woo you in any shape or form. And if they were to? Well, you’d have to make sure you hold her back.

↳ Ellen is such a sucker for seeing you wear items of her own. It yet again signals to all who your amazing girlfriend is. A handmade bracelet adorns her right wrist at all times, and a homemade trinket made from red gems dangles on the end of her weapon when she fights. A reminder for her to keep her head held high as she pierces through enemies and reaps the rewards. [her paycheck.]

✧ Ellen Joe who is [slightly rightfully so] protective over you. Her job, while a well-paying job, puts Ellen and her loved ones at risk: including you. She’s always scanning the area around the two of you, looking out for any particularly suspicious people. Do they have a weapon on them? Do they have bad intentions? She’s paranoid either way, and you have to give her hand a tight squeeze to bring her back to reality.

“Yes, there are bad people in the world, but no, no one is out to get us [at least right now].” You state, kissing her on the cheek. The last part you keep to yourself, there’s no need to keep her worried. She grumbles and mutters something under her breath before taking your hand in hers.

✧ Ellen Joe, the newest member of Victoria Housekeeping and one of the most popular girls in her school, hates to admit that you’ve stolen her heart.

note: hiiiii…*bats my eyes cutely* I wrote this before seeing the natlan trailer and wow it’s…something!!! love Ellen, dislike hoyo

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[featherandferns]

my thoughts on the rudy/madison discourse and obx 4 generally (spoilers):

I watch obx 4 for the characters. I appreciate the actors, find their behind the scenes moments entertaining at times, and indulge in the occasional interview or Instagram post, but I do not 'follow' the actors. My fanfics are about JJ Maybank as a character, not Rudy Pankow. I appreciate Rudy Pankow's attraction, especially when playing JJ's character, but writing fanfic about Rudy himself (or any other actor) is, for me, uncomfortable. That isn't to shame anybody who does write or read such content, it just makes me personally feel uncomfortable.

All this to say: I don't care about the drama. I don't care about why Rudy left the show, whether this was his decision or the writer's. I think Rudy's girlfriend seems lovely, but I am highly aware neither myself nor anybody else knows her. Rudy is a grown man. He's in his twenties. He can decide who he does and does not want to date, and who he does and does not want to spend his time with, both on and off set. An Instagram post Rudy made on his story on Canadian Thanksgiving I think summed it up perfectly: he loves his girlfriend, and if people can't get behind that, then get out.

Furthermore, Madison and Rudy do not owe anybody anything. I don't find interest or want to engage in the toxic debate of the 'he said, she said'. They're all adults, they all have their own lives, this is all between them. The speculation and pressure from fans is cruel and uncalled for. They don't owe anybody insight into their private lives. Maybe they aren't friends anymore - that's okay! People drift apart, people fall out. Yes, it's sad to see the change from season 1 in terms of dynamics, but a lot can happen behind the scenes. That's life! Also, I don't like the comparison between Rudy and Madison, and Madison and Chase. People saying 'but the actual ex-couple can work together fine' are forgetting that every situation is different! I had an ex-boyfriend at an old job; I was pissed at him for a few months but civil at work, and then I got over it and he apologised and we became actual friends about a year after the break-up. However, I have other ex-friends and ex-lovers who I could not ever tolerate or be near, and I can't imagine what it would have been like having to work with them after a falling out. If this is the case for Rudy and Madison, that's a really tough thing to navigate! Give them grace - yes they're actors, but they're humans too! The bottom line is: it's their life, leave them alone.

Following on from that, stop placing blame! We don't know why Rudy left the show. There's all different opinions and sources about who said what, who did what, who is the 'bad guy'. Nobody knows the truth but the three involved and, as I said before, they owe this to nobody to disclose.

I think Rudy leaving the show, whilst sad, is a fair decision. OBX began filming in 2019. You do a lot of growing from there and, especially with changes in writing, you can want a change. I think actors can sometimes be too tethered to their characters and it limits their future work abilities, because nobody can picture them as anything other than that character. You can still have successful careers because of this (think Camila Mendes and Riverdale; Matt Le Blanc and Friends; Ellen Pompeo and Meredith Grey), but Rudy clearly wants to explore other areas and other characters, like theatre and Indie movies. Good for him! We should support him! I don't love this 'I'm sorry we couldn't save you from your actor, JJ' stuff, because Rudy gave his heart and soul to that character and that performance. He doesn't deserve to be punished because he craves a change. It's the same as any other job/career; we all want a change sometimes.

The writers and show creators have been getting a lot of backlash too. Here's my thoughts on season 4: was it their best season? No. Did it do some of the other seasons and previous plotlines/character development justice? No. Did JJ have to die? Not necessarily. However, it is easy to lose sight of the small picture when you have increased demand and increased budgets. Netflix like 'bigger and better'. When people are given more creative freedom, sometimes things can veer off course. We can forget the original character motivations, dreams and desires by getting caught up in the spectacle. The only show I've ever seen that really keeps the characters true and consistent, whilst developing, and never forgetting a plot point, is Bojack Horseman. To me, that is the only show. It's a shame, yes, that it veered so far from season 1's aesthetic, but that's how it is.

As a fellow creator, I feel it's cruel sending so much blatant hate to the writers and creators for making the show. If Rudy did want to leave, they had to find a way to make this work for JJ. Yes, I've seen some say 'he didn't have to die' but I sort of disagree. JJ is too loyal and attached to his friends to just 'go off' on his own to somewhere else. That would also be out of character. I think the way he died, and the build-up and plot points that didn't get resolved prior to his death, is a little annoying. I don't like how it wasn't in Kildare, in his home, and in a different country. But hey - that's just me.

I know, that if I took so much time and energy and money, working and building something that I am proud of just, just to receive so much black-and-white hate, I'd be crushed. Constructive criticisms and opinions are good - we can be upset about a character dying - but saying 'fuck you' and 'we hate you' is a bit mean, in my opinion. The time and energy and work gone into this season is astounding. The travelling and set design is incredible! I mean, the shop is the most awesome thing I've ever seen!

I also respect that they killed JJ. I'm not saying I wanted him to die. I'm saying, it pisses me off when shows give plot-armour to the main characters. It lowers the stakes. You know they're going to be fine because they're always fine (think the majority of Stranger Things - there's a really good video essay about that here btw that articulates this point a bit better). JJ's death was shocking and upsetting, that's how a death (in a show, at least) should be, but it means hey, there are real stakes here. It's not fair he died! He didn't deserve to die! But he did, oh my God. It takes guts to kill of a beloved, main character. I agree, JJ was my favourite part of the show, but I respect the choice, personally.

I liked season 4. It wasn't as good as season 1, I wish they stayed more grounded and didn't start so many plot points without resolving any/all of them, but I liked it. It was entertaining. The acting was pretty decent, though the chemistry and acting when Rudy and Madison had scenes together was a little disappointing (again, I don't want to point blame at a certain individual; it's hard to have good on-screen chemistry, especially when you don't feel like it matches your character's true motivations).

Was it unrealistic at times? Yes, but OBX usually is haha. It's a show about finding EL DORADO at this point, like I can accept that they let Sarah and JJ get swept into the sea during a storm and come out fine, without a single earring out of place. Sure, whatever, I'll take it (so unrealistic, 90% would drown and you'd at least shed your clothes to help you swim and stay afloat but WHATEVER. Also put your life jackets on guys wtf it's a STORM).

I wish there was more development on the plots, done by having less plots at once, and more conclusions for JJ before his death. I felt as though we were building up to a big blow-out/resolution with Pogues which never really came. Also, don't love how they handled JJ and his biological dad. I don't think he'd be that willing to trust a random man who abandoned him so easy. Yes, he's reluctant, but COME ON. JJ has the biggest trust issues. I just don't buy it. Also, explain, please, how Luke went from being so wonderful and gentle with JJ to full on abusive? Just a bit of explanation would be nice, please. Not a huge fan of the pregnancy plotline but hey, sure, whatever.

So, yes, that's my thoughts on everything: leave the actors alone; the writers have balls for killing JJ but that isn't necessarily a bad thing; give people grace; treat people with kindness; I'm going to keep writing for JJ; and season 4 altogether gets a 6/10 from me.

I'm open to different opinions, further thoughts, or just general musings/ideas. I hope this doesn't upset or offend anyone, I'm not trying to spark drama or shame a certain person or people: these are just my thoughts and views! So, I won't be participating in any 'who's the bad guy' discourse surrounding the actors. I'm just here for JJ and the Pogues. Take care of yourselves and spread positivity in this crazy, difficult time <3 and, of course, rest in peace, JJ Maybank <3

P.S. These are my season-by-season ratings: season 1 - 10/10; season 2 - 8/10; season 3 - 6/10; season 4 - 6/10.

[miniwheat77]

American Honey. (Alejandro X Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Sex Pollen, fuck or die, unprotected sex, reader getting bullied by Alejandro and his men, poorly translated Spanish, (sorry if I missed any)

I love the way this turned out, I hope you guys love it too! This was a request :) please comment and reblog so that this can reach other places, Alejandro is too good to go unseen 🥵

(Not edited because I’m lazy.)

Truth be told, you weren’t the biggest fan of this place.

You’d been adopted as a child and your adoptive family loved Mexico, which is how you ended up here. It wasn’t always the safest, but they seemed to like it. It was difficult growing up in an English speaking household, school was difficult, the kids there were mean to you, and as you got older, it only got worse.

You decided to join the special forces in the hopes that you’d be tucked away in an office somewhere, as little interactions as possible. But it’s not how everything worked out. You were on the front lines.

Everyone had a cool call sign, or nickname.

But you? You were just Gringa. Nobody liked you, you were different and people didn’t like different. Especially not the special forces.

You ended up on Alejandro’s base by chance. He didn’t want to let you in, but because you were the most skilled out of a lineup, he had no choice. He picked fun at you too alongside everyone else. The only person that was even remotely nice to you was Rudy. He and his wife had you over for dinner a couple times, and he even called you by your name. It was nice when people were kind to you, because it didn’t happen very often.

On more than one occasion, a few of the women on base cornered you in the women’s barracks. It got so bad that you had to be separated. When you brought it up to Alejandro, he told you that you either had to deal with it, or be separate. Of course, when you were given your own room, it only ramped up the harassment you got on a daily basis. Jealous that you were getting special privileges. They found other ways around you not being in the same barracks.

Which is why you walked around with a black eye and a split lip almost every day.

You didn’t want to fight back. They were your people and you refused to lay a finger on your own. You just wished they thought the same. You had just sat down, water bottle in hand. You knew better than to get in line to eat first. They’d always push you to the back.

“Gringa. You have mail, in my office.” Alejandro nods. This was unusual, usually he’d just bring it to you. You stood up and followed after him. Despite the fact that he harassed you too, you always obeyed him. You did right by him even when he didn’t reciprocate. He sits down at his desk, sliding a box out of his drawer. “I need to see what’s inside, that’s why I brought you in here.” You nod your head, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the box open. You open it up, there’s a small black bag inside along with a letter. You unfold the letter, reading the inside.

“Hi Honey, we miss you so much. We wanted to let you know we’ve been thinking about adoption once again, you’ll have to give us a call when you get the chance. Your real grandfather from America sent this for you along with a small card on the inside. We thought it was sweet because you’re our American Honey. We hope you have better luck than you’ve been having. Keep your head up and don’t let them get to you too much.

Love, mom and dad.”

You pull the black bag open, sliding the contents into your hand. It’s a bunch of Honey Sticks. You smile, finally understanding the joke she’s made, American Honey. You take the card out that she mentioned and open it up. Inside is a photo of a woman, but you don’t really understand.

“Hello, I know you probably don’t know me, but I’ve always wanted to meet you. Your mother was a little young when she found out she was pregnant with you. She was a wild child, I’m sure you’re a wild child just like she was. I adored you from the day I met you, and when I found out your mom was giving you up, it shattered me. I hope I’ll get to meet you one day, I never did get the chance for anymore grandkids. You’re my only granddaughter. Here is some American Blueberry Honey from our farm, it’s all organic and it’s very sweet like I imagine you are. I’m writing this to you because your mom passed away unexpectedly. I felt you deserved to see her. I’m attaching a couple photos of her, and my address and phone number in case you ever want to call or write back. I’d really appreciate it if you did.”

You smile, looking down at the photos. For a minute, you forget where you are. You forget all about your Colonel’s judgmental eyes. You put the card back into the envelope, passing it to your Colonel. He has to look over everything. He doesn’t trust you.

You slide a couple of the honey sticks from the bag, looking over them.

“You were adopted Gringa?” He asks. You nod your head. He nods, “where were you born?” He asks. You shrug. “Somewhere in the states.”

He takes the bag from you, looking over it before passing it back to you. “Don’t forget we’re going on a mission tomorrow, everyone else needs rest from the last mission. You’re my only available soldier.” You nod your head. You always got left behind on missions. “Yes sir.” You stand up, picking up the box of stuff you’d just gotten. “Goodnight Gringa.” You nod your head. You were really starting to hate that fucking nickname.

—

The next day, you were dressed and ready. It was still early, you’d already eaten breakfast. You sat patiently outside of Alejandro’s office, waiting for his orders.

When the time came for you to leave, you finally got a breakdown of the mission.

“It’s nothing big, that’s why it’s just the two of us. Narcos have some other kind of operation going that we need to bust up, it’s probably only 5-6 men. We’re going to move slow, try to take them out from afar.” You nod your head. The both of you got on the helicopter, and it was quite a long ride. It was silent. Alejandro sat near the pilot and you sat in the back, admiring the view of the forest. It was dense. The green went on for miles. You couldn’t help but smile down at the peacefulness of it all.

“Something funny Gringa?” Alejandro asks. You can barely hear him, luckily the headset you’ve got on makes it easier. “No sir. Just admiring the views.” You turn your head back toward the window. You can hear Alejandro laugh quietly.

When you arrived a few miles away from the operation, you geared up completely. You had your sniper rifles, handguns, assault rifles, and plenty of ammo. You started hiking through the dense forest. Side by side. You were aware of your surroundings, ready for anything. You stayed calm despite the intense situation. You had a basic idea of what might be waiting for you, but you never knew what you could be walking into. Alejandro poked fun at you, but he actually really liked you. You were calm and collected. Fast on your feet. You were skilled when it came to any kind of combat. He knows he neglects you as a soldier. He sees the way they treat you around base and knows that he should intervene.

He doesn’t know exactly why he doesn’t.

When you get close enough to see everything going on, you get set up. Propping your rifles up to get a good view of all of them. “Shoot fast, Gringa. Can’t risk any of them getting away.” You nod your head, lining up your crosshairs with them.

You don’t wait for his orders, the moment one is lined up in your sights, you fire, kicking the empty bullet casing out of the gun and lining up for another shot. When the both of you finish, you’ve only killed 4. “Others must be in the building. Go ahead, I’ll cover you.” He nods. “Yes sir.” You stand up, leaving your rifle behind and drawing your assault rifle out. You hike down toward the building, keeping yourself covered with trees and walking as quietly as possible. It was a little difficult with the vegetation from the forest but you still did your best. Alejandro watches you in the scope of his rifle, watching ahead of you and around you. He hopes this mission will go smoothly. As you get closer to the building, he feels unsettled. “Go slow gringa, something doesn’t seem right.” He says into his radio. “Yes sir.” You reply. You slow your speed, eyes scanning everything in front of you. Your senses are heightened because you’re nervous, you’re sure you’ll hear anything.

Unfortunately for you, it’s too late. You hear the soft patter of something hitting the ground in front of you, and only have a split second to react, covering your face with your arms and stepping back as the grenade explodes.

Alejandro watches in horror as you’re thrown back, dirt and debris fly into the air, a cloud of smoke covering his vision. “Shit!” He growls. He stands up, rushing to get to you. He sees a few men appearing out of the tree line, firing at each them. He rushes to you, kneeling next to you. “Gringa?” He asks.

You don’t know where you are. The darkness is nice, but it only lasts for a few seconds before you hear Alejandro’s gunshots. You’re being shaken by him, but the ringing in your ears overrides everything else. “Gringa? Can you hear me?” He asks. He shakes you again, seeing your eyes move. “Hey, you’re going to be okay.” He breathes. He’s looking over you, he can see a few wounds from Shrapnel, but he doesn’t see them anywhere serious. “Y/N!” He snaps in your face. You close your eyes tightly. Sitting up. “I’m fine.” You breathe. He helps you up and you flinch at the loud ringing. It starts to fade as you look around. It’s quiet now.

As peaceful as it was on the helicopter.

When the ringing fades out completely, you wish you could just lay there, stare up at the sky and enjoy the peace for just a second. What you’d give for it.

“Come on. We have to keep moving.” He breathes.

You move in quickly to sweep the building, it’s an old cement building, but the inside is actually pretty nice. It has to be for how long everyone stays out here. Months on end, making whatever drug their boss tells them to. You notice a few bottles of something red. You can tell it isn’t blood because of the translucent consistency. But it’s odd. You make your way back outside, noticing the work stations are all full of the same red liquid. There a few large barrels of it sitting outside. “The hell is this?” You ask aloud.

Alejandro is standing near you, and neither of you expect to be splashed with the liquid. You flinch away, turning and raising your guns at your assailant.

His maniacal laughter is what really scares you. He’s got a gunshot wound on his side, he’s not going anywhere. He’s leaned up against the barrel, plastic cup in his hand. “Es una droga sexual. ¡Ahora ambos están infectados!” He laughs again.

Alejandro moves in quick, he’s seething. “What did he say?” You ask. The man looks at you, eyes wide. He’s got an evil smile on his face. “estas con una gringa? ella no sabe español?” He laughs. Alejandro shakes his head. “¿Cuál es la droga?!” He yells. You flinch away at his tone of voice. “Vas a tener que chingarte a tu gringa linda, dejarla embarazada.” He purrs. “¿Qué significa eso?” Alejandro growls. Grasping the man by the lapels and slamming him back into the barrel. “La cura es el sexo, no hay otra. Buena suerte hermano.” He smirks. His teeth are red from his blood.

“No eres hermano mío, solo un cobarde.” You flinch as Alejandro raises his pistol up, firing into the man’s head. His body slumps forward and Alejandro stands up, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What did he say? What is this?” You ask.

He rubs his face in frustration.

“It’s a sex drug.”

You look confused. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a sex drug, but it’s in the early stages of development, that’s why we’ve never heard of it before. He said..” he pauses. “If the infected doesn’t have sex, they’ll die.”

“And what he splashed on us.. was that-?” You look at him. He nods his head. You turn away from him. “There’s no other cure?” You ask. “No. Not something we’ll find in time.”

“Well. Suppose we should head back. Say our goodbye’s.”

His turns quickly to look at you. “What?” He asks.

You look at him. “What?”

“Y/N.. we can get through this if…” he swallows hard. You raise your eyebrows. “What? If what?” You cross your arms. Looking at him. “If I have sex with you? Are you out of your mind?” Alejandro’s assumptions have clearly stuck a nerve. “You’re loco if you think I want to have sex with you!”

“But you’d rather die? I’ll have to say Gringa, that’s pretty harsh.” He smiles. “That right there is exactly why I’d rather die.” You seethe. He looks confused. “My goddamn name is Y/N.” You growl. He steps closer to you. “Watch your tone with me.” He growls. “I’m going to die anyways.” You shake your head. “What, you’ll let us both die over me calling you Gringa? Really?” He breathes.

“It’s not just you.” You shake your head. “It’s everyone.” You voice is low and aggressive. “They call me gringa. I’m last to eat, last to shower, last to be chosen for missions. I haven’t had dinner in a week. They exclude me, treat me like shit. They corner me in the goddamn bathroom and beat the holy hell out of me. And my Colonel? The one who’s supposed to give a shit? Doesn’t say a word when he sees the bruises they’ve left. You had no right to call that man a coward. You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever met.” You spit your words at him like they’re laced with venom. Like they’ll drop him dead in a few seconds. He sighs. Everything you’ve said is true. He’s mistreated you.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. “Querida…” he trails off. “I know I’ve been bad to you. But I can change it.” He breathes. “No.” You shake your head. “Make yourself comfortable because I’m not changing my mind.” You breathe. You shove passed him, walking into the building. You go into one of the rooms, sitting down on the bed. You take your shoes off, pulling the blanket off. Walking back outside. You walk into the woods a little more, laying the blanket out. “What are you doing?” He asks. “Enjoying the peace and quiet.” You breathe. He nods. “Mind if I join you?” He asks. You shrug. He sighs, sitting down next to you. You’re laying on your back, looking up at the sky. “Cloudy.” He mumbles. “Yeah. Hopefully it’ll rain.” You smile. “I like when you smile.” He laughs. “Why?” You look at him. “Because you don’t do it often. Earlier in the helicopter, I was admiring you.” He laughs. You roll your eyes. “Also, when you saw that letter from your family. I like their nickname for you, American Honey.” He smiles. You can’t help but laugh at this. “If this is you trying to get me to have sex with you, it’s not going to work. He rolls his eyes. “I can be a gentleman without the intention of trying to have sex with you, Mocosa.” He laughs. “I’m serious. Why do they call you that?” He smiles. “They said I was too sweet. As a kid I knew no stranger, so they called me American Honey.” You look down. “American Honey? I don’t think I’ve ever had any.” He shrugs. You think for a second, sighing.

You grasp hold of your pocket on your jacket, the Velcro making a tearing sound as you pull it open, you slide out a few of the honey sticks, passing one to him. “It’s blueberry honey.” You nod. He takes it from you. “You have to bite the top to split the film open.”

You bite the top of yours, feeling the honey drip into your mouth. You can’t help but smile as you watch Alejandro struggle to open his. You laugh. Reaching your hand out. “Here.” You say. He passes it to you and you turn it to the other side, biting it open for him. “Thank you.” He smiles. You can feel the effects of the drug beginning to kick in. You want to kick yourself for the way you’re looking at him. He’s getting more and more attractive by the minute. You hear a groan leave his lips. “This is really good.” He breathes. “It is really sweet.” He licks his fingers where it’s dribbled onto them. You have to force yourself to look away. The tightening in your lower stomach becoming harder and harder to ignore. “Here, have another.” You pass him the other. “Open it for me, Cariño?” He smiles. You nod. You bit it open, flinching as it pops into your mouth. Alejandro freezes up, having to force himself to look away from your lips, and how sweet they’re looking. He’s felt the drug working but has ignored the way his pants have gotten tight. He takes the stick of honey from you, and watches as you lay back.

The minutes tick by and his heart is racing, the arousal he feels is almost unbearable. You can barely focus on anything, his heavy breathing, the smell of him. It’s too much. “I’m sorry.” He breathes. “I’ve got to get away from you, or I won’t be able to stop myself.” He breathes. Just as he stands up, you’re quick to yelp. “Wait!” You breathe, sitting up. He turns to look at you, confusion written all over his face. You’ve shed your jacket and he didn’t realize it, but he can see how hard your nipples are through your shirt. “What?” He asks. “You.. you don’t have to.�� You breathe. You’ve got your knees pressed together. Tightening your thighs to try and ease the ache you feel between them. He steps toward you, and he can see the fire burning in your eyes. You don’t move away or tell him to stop. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. He lowers himself to his knees, thankful for the blanket beneath him. He moves himself between your legs, licking his bottom lip as he leans into you. His lips brush over yours lightly. Hips presses into yours. He moans out when you rock your hips ip into him, desperate for some kind of relief. He presses his lips to yours, he kisses you hard.

He can taste the honey on your tongue, and he’s addicted right there. You moan into his lips when he rocks his hips into yours. He pulls away, but only to attach his lips to your jawline, moving down to your throat. He’s biting at the skin, feeling your heart beat as he runs his tongue along your jugular vein. He pulls your shirt up and over your head, helping you remove your bra with it. He attaches his lips to one of your nipples, sucking at it gently, feeling you buck your hips up into him. He can’t help smile into you. He doesn’t want to neglect you, moving to attach his lips to other. You wrap a hand in his hair, whining out at the attention he’s giving you. “Alejandro- want you so bad.” You breathe. “You’ll have me, ser paciente.” You nod your head. He kisses lower, over your chest and belly, tugging your pants down your legs. You take a deep breath as he glides his hands down your hips, kissing over your belly button. He looks up at you, dipping down to press a kiss against your clit. Cock twitching at the mewl you let out. You whine, raising your hips into him. Desperate for attention. He pushes your hips down, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you still. His tongue gliding up through your folds has a sigh leaving your lips. He moans into.

“Taste so fuckin sweet..” he mutters, chuckling into you. “You’ve got the perfect nickname, you’re just as fucking sweet.” He growls, burying his face into you, starting his assault on your clit. You blush, looking away. You try to squirm out of his grasp but he holds you tight. You clutch the blanket beneath you, moaning out as you look up at the sky. You can feel the sting from the shrapnel still buried in your skin, but you’re overwhelmed. The peacefulness and the way he makes you feel overrides any pain you’ve felt.

You’re getting louder with each flick of his tongue and he knows you’re getting close, but he doesn’t want you to cum like this. He pulls away, feeling you whine at the loss of friction. “Relax, I’ll give your pussy the attention it needs.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt.

He wipes his face, moving his hips up to yours. “You sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He pushes the tip of his cock up against your entrance and you bite your lip. You close your eyes as he sinks into you, clutching the blankets hard. The pleasure is intensified from the drug you’ve taken and the both of you nearly cum right there, moaning out. “Fucking hell you feel good.” He growls, moving to kiss you. “You taste yourself on me? Hm?” He smirks, starting to thrust his hips into you. He’s starting at a brutal pace and you can’t keep it together as he fucks you.

“You taste sweet yeah? Sweeter than that honey.” He smiles. His belt rattles as he thrusts into you. The sound is distracting you. The thought of what it is, him fucking into you so good. You can’t keep it together. “I’m gonna cum-“ you whimper. “Already?” He chuckles. He’s taunting you. You nod your head. “Yes!” You moan. He lifts your thighs up, thrusting deeper, trying to get a better angle on you. “Rub your clit for me.” He breathes. You nod your head, still obeying him. You rub circles over yourself, and he fuels the burning fire with his words.

“Yes- such a good girl. Always doing what you’re told. Yeah, rub that sweet pussy for me baby.” He growls. He can feel his own high approaching pathetically fast. “I’m- I-“ he laughs at your lack of words, feeling your legs shake as he pushes you into your orgasm. You cry out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as you shut them tightly. You soak his cargo pants, and he growls as he feels your arousal on him. He doesn’t stop fucking you, even with you being overwhelmed. He’s chasing his own high. He leans down to kiss you again, desperate for the taste of sweetness he knows he’ll get from you. He kisses you hard, feeling your tongue move against his own. You moan into his lips, wrapping your legs around his back.

“Give it to me, Colonel.” You look him in the eyes. He growls, thrusting harder if it’s possible. “Beg for it.” He breathes. “Please-“ you gasp. “Please cum inside me, I’ve been good for you. Please give it to me!” You whine. His heart is pounding, cock twitching as he gets closer and closer to his high. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He gasps. “I’m gonna give it to you, Cariño. Trust me.” He groans. He has a death grip on your thighs. When he reaches his high, he’s sensitive before he even finishes. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had by far. He holds your hips tightly into him, taking slow deep thrusts to ride out his high.

“Oh fuck-“ he gasps. He slides out of you, watching his filth spill out of your pussy. The relief you feel is immediate. Hearts are no longer racing. He lays next to you on the blanket, panting as he comes down from his high, looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes, looking at you. “You weren’t.” You blush.

Just then, your radio’s go off.

“Colonel, do you copy?”

“Colonel do you copy? Exfil is still about an hour out, it’s going to be dark soon.”

“We’re on our way.” He says into the radio.

He helps you up. You both redress yourselves quickly.

“We’ve got to make quick work of this, got a lighter?” He asks. You pass him the one you keep on you at all times and he picks up a stick, lighting it on fire. He throws it into a barrel of liquid and you both run away quickly.

The barrel explodes and the whole area around it bursts into flames. You both admire it for a second. “Let’s go.” He grasps your hand, pulling you along. He hands you back you lighter.

It doesn’t take too long to reach exfil, but the wetness you feel from Alejandro’s cum is a little uncomfortable and he can tell by the way you keep shifting yourself on the seat in the helicopter, sending you a wink every once in a while. You turn your head away from him each time, blushing.

—

When you get back, you go straight to the infirmary for your wounds to be treated from the explosion. While you’re recovering, Alejandro has a quick meeting with his soldiers.

“I want everyone to know that Y/N isn’t going anywhere. I want you all to treat her the same as you treat everyone else. She saved my life today and she didn’t have to. If I see anyone mistreating her from this moment forward, you will be discharged from my base. Do I make myself clear?” His voice is stern.

“Yes sir!” They all say in unison. “Thank you! Go back to eating.” He calls.

He makes his way to the infirmary to check on you. Unsure of what to do with these newfound feelings that he has for you, and what in the hell he’s supposed to do if you’re pregnant.

[shakingparadigm]

may i ask your opinions on what ivan is truly like ?

( without pretending to be someone or something else entirely ? )

Okay !! Finally back to answering asks !! Once again, please be mindful of the fact that these are mostly my own personal thoughts. Always take them with a grain of salt.

The thing is, Ivan is an incredibly difficult character. He was written to be complex and multi-faceted, literally having more than just one "face". His actions almost always have another layer of depth to them and he tends to contradict himself, further complicating people's perception of him. It's not easy to pin him down, and that was exactly the intent. They made sure that the viewers wouldn't be able to fully grasp his emotions.

( I find this fact rather funny, because in one of the behind posts QMENG herself says that sometimes Ivan does things she cannot understand. The creators just allow Ivan to be complicated. He is what he is, and while there are undoubtedly reasons for it, the full truth remains unknown to us. )

Regardless, this is what I personally think.

Ivan seems to define himself by his imperfection, so much so that his actions and perspectives are influenced by his deep self-hatred. It's established that Ivan is "lacking" something, he is fundamentally different from others. Ivan builds himself around this since he literally has nothing else. He defines himself by his lack of definition. The fact that he is different and needs to be "cured". Ivan grows attached to the qualities that he "lacks", drawn to the biggest personality in the garden like a moth to a flame. He is fascinated, not envious, and I think that says a lot about him. He places those qualities on a pedestal, believing them to be so much better than himself. He feels that it's something he will never achieve or deserve, something he can't have.

It's interesting that the only time we can pin Ivan as "envious" is not when he's faced with his opposite, but with his parallel. Someone he believed to be just like him.

One thing about Ivan is that he is (unsurprisingly) lonely. Since his entire life is defined by this feeling of separation from others (either literally through the segyein's selection or more intangibly through his mental and emotional difference from others), Ivan feels constantly isolated. Nobody has been able to properly understand him, which further worsens the feeling that something is wrong with him.

When he finally finds someone that he can relate with, it brings him a sense of relief. Note that when Ivan refers to (what he perceives as) their similarity, he uses derogatory language. Twisted. This is how he views himself.

( translation is by @sorrowcure ! )

Compared to his interactions with others, his confrontation with Sua is uncomfortably honest. Ivan is most critical with the person he relates to, further emphasizing how deeply critical he is of himself. Ivan is not envious of Till or Mizi, who are so fundamentally different from him, he's envious of Sua because she is just like him yet has something that he doesn't.

It may feel unfair for the one person you saw yourself in to accomplish something so out of your reach. Her love was reciprocated in full, adored and revered by the person she loved most. They weren't the same, after all. It reinforces what he always believed to be true: he was alone.

( translation by @/oreganocactus on Twitter! )

There are many other instances of Ivan's self-deprecation and low sense of self-worth that leak into his behavior, such as down-playing himself in his interview, referring to his own feelings as "shallow", convincing himself that he was never truly cared about, etc. His deep dissatisfaction of himself rises to the surface quite often, shown in the way that he takes pride in his achievements (his work), yet cannot view himself as a person in a positive light.

INTERVIEWER: What do you think is your charm?

IVAN: I can't really think of any, because I think I have more flaws (haha),

To me, a lot of the "actual" Ivan can be seen in his younger self. It's not a complete display of what Ivan is truly like, obviously. He was a child and hadn't yet developed in certain areas. Still, it's a period in Ivan's life where he didn't mask or play up a different image. The quiet, stoic, and blunt Ivan seems to be a more genuine side of him, at least compared to his more charming persona. QMENG considered Ivan with his hair down to be "most like himself", and I think it's no coincidence that the most memorable version of Ivan with his hair down is his child self. The infamous Bowl Cut Ivan.

With this fact in mind, I also find it no coincidence that in ROUND 6, where Ivan is presented as a "perfect actor" in costume, he starts off with his hair slicked back.

And when he finally drops the mask, when he acts out of his own volition, his hair falls onto his face. Hair down, most like himself.

Another notable instance of Ivan's hair being down is the casino/karaoke room scene, which was quoted as an example for Ivan's emotional immaturity, his supposed "childishness".

There's so much to be said about Ivan, including the neurodivergent/autistic traits that have been discussed by other people in more depth (notably his difficulty in understanding/expressing certain emotions, his masking, his often misconstrued actions, etc). There's also many of Ivan's more conflicting aspects (which seem mostly confined to the patreon? so I'm not sure if they're still planning to incorporate it into the publicly official content or if it was overhauled), but I'm going to stop here because I feel like this post is already pretty random and disconnected.

The gist of it is that I don't think I can give a solid answer on what Ivan is truly like. I'm not even sure if he can answer that, as he seems to be at war with himself quite frequently. Ivan, under his charming and cheery facade, is unable to feel or express emotion in the same way other people do, which causes difficulty and struggle in many other aspects of his life. Not like the one he has is completely his anyway, but, you know.

[boobabietch]

Chapter I: "From College Phenom to WNBA Superstar: The Victoria O’Hara Story" | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: Kinda narcissistic, kinda obsessed Victoria (excuse my girl she just wants to do good)

A/N: first chapter baby let’s fucking goooo, I’m so so excited about this series and I cannot wait for you guys to read it. As always English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes (I wrote this super high so there’s probably some) please let me know so I can change them asap, comments are highly appreciated, please let me know what you think! My ask box is always open too. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

There’s a funny thing about being a woman in sports, and it’s that being good is not enough.

When I was first drafted to the W, my back was in agonizing pain, breaking under the weight of everyone’s expectations. Having an excellent college career made the country ache with the need to see me play with the big dogs, some rooting for my success, but most of them patiently waiting for my imminent downfall. I struggled; climbing up that fucking hill was hard. But everything became easier once my mind was blinded with rage, and that anger had a name: Diana motherfucking Taurasi.

Growing up she was everything I aspired to be. She made it all look so easy, so effortless, and I wanted that. And the thing is, I’m not an aggressive person, not even a bad one. I bake for my teammates every Friday, I have friends all over the league, little girls want my shoes after the games and their grown fathers want my ass, teenage girls even write about me on Tumblr, for fuck's sake! I am perfectly fine!

Until that fucking game.

May 19, 2017

My rookie season. We faced Phoenix for the first time. The air was thick with anticipation, and I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut that nobody on that arena came to see me.

There she was.

Diana was there, larger than life, owning the court like she owned the entire damn league. And the truth was, she did.

I knew this moment was coming, but nothing could’ve prepared me for actually standing across from her. She locked eyes with me during warm-ups, her face impassive, like I wasn’t even worth her time. I looked around and every person was the same, nobody really came to see me, not even my team. That’s when I realized that being good at the game it’s not enough, you have to play another type of game if you want people to see you, and I was determined to make them beg for more of me.

That was all it took. I felt something rise inside of me, a mix of insecurity and pure terror, and from that moment, the only thing I wanted more than winning was beating her. Proving her wrong.

And that’s where all the shit unraveled.

It wasn’t just the basketball. It was personal. Every shot I took, every time I drove the lane, I wasn’t just thinking about the score, I was thinking about her. The way she moved. How her voice echoed through the arena when she barked orders to her team. I hated how much I was drawn to it, to her.

My teammates tried to talk me down, “Vico, chill you’re obsessing,” Sydney said. But they didn’t get it. Diana Taurasi was my benchmark, my North Star. My fire, I wanted what she had and in order to get it she was the one to beat. Every game after that I took it as duel, a fight for dominance. I was determined to make her see me, to make her acknowledge that I wasn’t just some rookie passing through, because if she knew that, then everybody would know that I was Victoria fucking O’Hara, and I was coming for the crown, her crown.

And I was doing a hell of a job:

"Rising Star: Victoria O'Hara Leads All Rookies in Scoring and Rebounds"

"WNBA newest princess? O’Hara’s Rookie Season Proves She’s a Force to Be Reckoned With"

"Victoria O’Hara Makes Waves: Record-Breaking Rookie Season Captivates Fans and Analysts"

But it never seemed to be enough, until…

July 7, 2017

It was after another grueling game. We lost by three points, but I played the game of my life. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, slumped on the bench, trying to catch my breath. And someone towered over me.

Someone I was very aware of.

“Not bad, O’Hara. Keep it up, and you might actually be a challenge someday.”

My stomach twisted.

I stared at her for a weirdly amount of time, unsure how to respond. Hell, was she mocking me? Or was this some twisted form of respect?

Before I could think too much, I snapped back:

“Someday? I’m already a problem for you.”

Fuck, that sounded way harsher than I intended.

I saw her look at her shoes, clicking her tongue before staring at me again, a smirk plastered in her face begging to be slapped it out “Of course you are”

And that’s it. She left.

July 30, 2017:

We were playing again, and the tension was unbearable. Everyone could feel it. Diana was all over the place, controlling the game like she always did, like she owned it. But this time? I wasn’t letting her have it. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of thinking she still ran the show. I needed this moment. I needed to prove myself. To her. To everyone.

Then, in the third quarter, it happened.

I saw her coming. Her eyes were locked on me like a damn predator, and I wasn’t backing down. I made a drive, quick and sharp, cutting to the basket with everything I had. I was going to score, but she had other plans. She slammed into me, body on body, knocking me off my path like I was nothing. I hit the floor hard, my elbows burning from the impact. The whistle blew, and I stayed down for a second, rage boiling under my skin.

"Get up," she muttered, standing over me like she owned the place. "You’re gonna need more than that to take me down, rook."

The audacity. I pushed myself up, heart pounding in my chest, glaring straight at her. I was chest to chest with the legend, staring into her eyes, and for the first time, I wasn’t intimidated. I was pissed. “You think you’re untouchable? Just fucking wait.”

She smirked, like she’d heard it all before. Like she didn’t even have to try. "I don’t think, O’Hara. I know," she spat back, her voice dripping with arrogance.

That was it. That was the moment I snapped. "Oh, you’re just a fucking bitch, aren’t you?" The words flew out before I could stop them, and I shoved her, hard.

The arena erupted in chaos.

Before I knew it, she was lunging at me, ready to push me back. But our teammates were faster, grabbing us before we could even make contact. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, my fists clenched, ready to throw. But the second I tried to break free, I was held back by a wall of arms pulling me away from her.

It took four players to hold me back. Four.

Diana wasn’t any better off. Her teammates were holding her down too, but I could see it in her eyes. She wanted this fight as much as I did. There was fire there, the same fire I felt burning inside me. She wasn’t just here to win; she was here to prove a point. But so was I.

We both struggled against the hands holding us back, trying to break free, trying to get at each other. My muscles ached with the effort of pushing forward, but no matter how hard I fought, it wasn’t happening. I could almost feel the impact of my fist hitting her. The unfinished fight burned inside me, an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

I didn’t give a shit about the cameras or the refs. I didn’t care about the technical they were about to call. All I cared about was making her feel this rage, this fire that she had sparked inside me. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t untouchable. That I wasn’t just another rookie.

Finally, the refs managed to pull us apart, forcing us to opposite sides of the court. My chest heaved with adrenaline, but I wasn’t done. I looked back at her, catching her eyes one more time. That damn smirk still on her face. But I knew she saw me now. I knew she felt it too.

The fight wasn’t over.

That was the moment I realized. Diana Taurasi wasn’t just another player to beat. She was the one. The one I had to take down. And maybe, just maybe, she’d finally met someone who could.

Fucking Diana.

"Rivalry Ignites: O’Hara and Taurasi Get into Fiery Altercation During Friday Game"

San Antonio Stars Victoria O’Hara Adidas Grey and Black Edition Player Jersey | SOLD OUT

Requests are Open!

Massterlist

[pinktrashgoblin]

SERIOUS POST.

This may have some uncomfortable topics. But please read this whole thing. It’s important to be transparent, and I don’t want Cin to spread more shit.

my deepest apologies to people who are just here on my blog and reblogging my work for fun.

EDIT: I can’t believe I have to say this but don’t fucking harass anyone mentioned in this post. That just reflects on YOU.

Alright, Cin. Since you want a response so bad, here ya go.

So what is this whole thing about?

User @/cintagonisupset is going around telling people this.

I’m already seeing the impacts, having my friends come to me about this. You’ve got my hands tied, so I’m making my statement.

First and foremost: I‘m not going to pretend that I didn’t make dirty jokes in my server in the past, before my birthday when I was 17, a minor myself, and before I banned such jokes last year. With 100% earnest I know this was a bad idea, and I have taken the time to be more careful about what I say around certain audiences. I am not perfect. But in his haste to fuck me up, he left out some crucial details.

1: I was 17 at the time, a minor myself, and was and still am in high school. I was a high schooler, making high-school-tier jokes in a server of other high schoolers. I am not ACTIVELY MAKING THESE JOKES like he says I am, and I do not condone the idea of doing so.

2: I am autistic. I struggle with social cues, with decision-making and so forth. I am only recently 18, but that does not mean I am mentally or emotionally mature, far from it. Mentally I am still a child. I struggle more than the average person with judgement, and often slip up around those I let my guard down around. I am working on this to avoid things such as this.

3: I am incredibly susceptible to peer pressure. In a place where those jokes were made, I wanted to feel like part of the group. So, as I often do, I mirrored behavior to feel like I fit in. I wasn’t sitting my high-school ass down and going “Let’s make raunchy jokes with kids!”, I was thinking in terms of “Maybe if I talk like them, they’ll like me and I’ll fit in somewhere” without fully realizing what everything meant, and without being able to properly process the social queues associated.

4: This was MONTHS ago. I do not actively do these things, nor condone them, I think it’s fucked up and I’ve done everything I can to be better than that. But to misrepresent the situation as me actively doing so isn’t great either.

So with that out of the way.

Do I think it was a good idea? No, absolutely not, but let’s not pretend that this is unheard of in high school and definitely on the internet. Since the dawn of time kids have made stupid jokes with one another. I was a middle schooler once and a high schooler now, I know exactly what goes on in those places. Let me restate: that doesn’t make it good, but let’s not pretend I’m the only high school kid who’s ever made a joke like that around their peers.

My point is, once this thing has become so normalized all over the place, in school, in media, it becomes difficult, especially for a neurodivergent such as myself, to deduce what to and not to do. I have fundamental principles and rules, but that does not mean I am not susceptible to being pressured into this sort of thing.

As I mentioned: I am not emotionally, or mentally, mature. I don’t know everything. I don’t fully comprehend the nuances of things. I am not always aware of what I am saying. I cannot understand social queues in the same way you do.

Make your conclusions as you will, but this is my stance, and this is the truth.

Also, maybe don’t tell people to kill themselves and that nobody likes them? Just a thought. (BTW: As mentioned I am autistic, it’s not as simple as “grow up”.)

TL;DR: I made raunchy/dirty jokes in my server when I was 17, in high school, with a bunch of other high schoolers, and Cin is telling me to end my life because of it.

Please consider my words. I have worked hard to build what I have, and feel it is important to be transparent. I want nothing but to make a positive impact on this community and the people within it. This does not mean I am perfect, but I am trying my best and my intentions are good.

Feel free to ask me, or leave opinions in the reblogs and replies. This is a conversation, not a preaching.

Also, about the art thief thing: I genuinely have no fuckin clue what he’s going on about there.

Edit: I have deleted the “P.S.” section regarding a suspicion I have to avoid further conflict.

[solei-eclipse]

[ dry coughing ] hey

I'd like to introduce the ocs/concepts I previously mentioned! they were thought up mostly for fun (and HEAVILY inspired by a few things, try and take a guess) so I'm not sure if I'll spend as much time on them. who knows, maybe they'll grow on me.

they're super funny to me. i think i made them just to have a laugh. sorry. you'll see why soon!

anyway, this is Jiu and Kioku! They have a long history together (well, at least one of them thinks so).

Jiu ( jee - yu )

A very dutiful and serious person

Has a formal way of speech (he almost never speaks casually)

Carries himself with a regal air, behaves like a young noble

Incredibly melancholic

His eyes have a strange quality to them, almost as if he's looking far off into the distance or straight through certain people (even if they're standing right in front of him)

Often takes a leadership role, adept at managing and organization (class president/class rep type)

Very cold and distant despite taking on multiple responsibilities

Neutral in stance, polite but in the detached way

Willing to help his classmates with whatever is needed, but won't do more than what's absolutely necessary

Holds his duty and responsibility in high regard, always in service to someone or something

Used to have a gentle, caring, and protective nature, but was forced to snuff it out due to his cruel home environment and those who took advantage of his kindness

Under the ownership of a rich and illustrious segyein, the hostess of an establishment where human pets were put to work

Due to his exceptional mental abilities and sense of duty, he was promoted to a high position at a very young age. He handles accounting and is the hostess' right hand man

Because of his duty and devotion to service, he is made to carry out illegal and immoral acts in secret

Whenever he returns from the Anakt Garden, Jiu is immediately put to work

He is pale to the point of his veins showing and has a dull, steely gaze

Jiu sleeps face-down. There's no reason for it, he just does

Yes, it's suffocating. Someone has to turn him over in his sleep just to make sure he can breathe right. There was once someone who used to do it for him, but now nobody does

Kioku ( kee - oh - ku )

Prefers everyone to call her Kio !

She arrives to the Garden quite late due to certain health complications (according to her guardian)

Has a very open face and unguarded eyes, which may lower the guard of other people

It's genuinely a strange quality. Those who hold secrets or ill intent may feel uncomfortable looking into her eyes for long periods of time.

Kio herself almost never lies. She will tell the truth even if it brings about consequence

Very athletic! Excels in sports and ranks high during Field Days

Kind in a way that's incredibly stubborn. Wills herself to forgive those who have wronged her and regards them with gratitude despite everything

Very persistent, has a great amount of inner strength

As a child, Kio was weak, cowardly, and codependent. She entered an establishment at a young age in exchange for her safety, but since she refused to adjust herself to the environment (perform actions she deemed cruel) she was often picked on and treated unfairly

Since she was weak, she clung onto the first person who gave her the slightest bit of help and blindly trusted them

Currently so different from her child self. Those who knew her back then find the change incredibly jarring (almost like she's become a completely different person)

There is something off about her. She can't seem to recall anything about her past and feels like something has been taken from her in a way

The fact that she can't recall her childhood pushes her to live in the present, she'd prefer not to look back

She is still unaware of how she got the scar on her cheek

Together :

Jiu seems to regard Kio differently, almost cautiously

As Kio arrived to the Garden late, the responsibility of looking after her fell into Jiu's hands

He was in charge of getting her acquainted with routines, past lessons, etc.

Though Jiu is normally as imperturbable as a rock, there is a unique air of awkwardness to him whenever he interacts with Kio

He refuses to look her in the eyes

Kio, for her part, tries very hard to catch up and makes sure she isn't a burden to him

His odd treatment of her makes her conscious that he dislikes her, which pushes her to work harder

Jiu is the only person who refuses to address Kio by her nickame. He only calls her Kioku, or if he can help it, doesn't refer to her by name at all

Particularly observant individuals may notice how Jiu begins to lose composure. It's incredibly subtle, so it's not obvious to others

Kio has a strange feeling about him that she just can't put her finger on.... at times it makes her uneasy

Random tidbits:

Jiu ( ジウ ) : samurai, warrior, knight. or "to serve someone of high rank or status with respect and loyalty."

( emphasis on themes of service and devotion )

Kioku ( キオク ) : literally translates to memory.

( to remember, remembrance, recollection )

Jiu's sharp strands of hair that fade to white are meant to vaguely mimic a dragon's features (two sharp fangs on his forehead, two long whiskers on the sides of his head)

Kioku vaguely resembles a bird feather.

Her eyes are wide, round, and far apart. They not only emphasize her openness, but are also reminiscent of fish eyes (associated with empty-headedness, a certain lack of something + the concept of goldfishes with bad memory)

Kio's main emotion is curiosity

Jiu's main emotion is guilt

[certainty2witch]

For Crocodad theory, imagine if the way everyone finds out isn't either of them admitting it. It's Sengoku being mad after the events of Marineford and deciding to hand over declassified info on the revolutionary army, collected by Cypher Pole, which proves that Crocodile is Luffy's birth parent, to Big News Morgan. Imagine everyone has just started their two years of training when they pick up the daily newspaper and right on the cover is confirmation that Crocodile is Luffy's parent.

Since you mentioned the revolutionary army, I suppose you’re talking about my revolutionary crocodile au, even if you talked about Marineford.

And i take some time for adding a bit of lore for my au because is important:

(Answer for anon’s ask after the ‼️‼️‼️)

Crocodile was never evil and with so he never did something wrong in Alabasta. But, he’s still a warlord, and a fake pirate, because he’s a revolutionary undercover.

But let’s say that the marines discovered Crocodile is a revolutionary and that’s a way for putting him in impel down?

Iva obliviously, since is there too, save him and bring him at level 5.5, they both wait for the right moment for escaping (imagine Croc being uncomfortable around all that extravagant people, he doesn’t like loud people, and Iva likes to torment him because they think Croc miss Dragon and Croc says he doesn’t.

Is the truth btw he just wanna run into Dragon’s arms and kissing him).

And with so, Impel down arc happens, but Croc is always with Iva instead of being locked at level 6. His reaction to his son almost dead is pretty devastating, just imagine that… I mentioned in a recent post that they have a deep and special bond when Luffy was little. With older Luffy this keep existing!

So Marineford is pretty the same with Doflamingo bothering him (lmao, sorry babe your love is busy with the world’s worst criminal, he’s not a single man), with him protecting Ace (this time for Luffy and only for him💕) and other canon stuff.

And he suffers seeing his son losing his sense after his brother’s death. He obliviously protect him and Jinbe from Akainu (in every au he always saves him in that scene *sigh* good daddy).

So after Marineford he and Luffy separate, and he finally reunite with Dragon.

‼️‼️‼️

And now about the ask.

But first i add little warning.

Cw //mention of gender dysphoria!

Somehow Sengoku knows and decides to reveal everything (my god you should just close that trap sometimes, stupid marine) I honestly can’t imagine why he would know something like that, maybe due to Garp? (Close that trap too!!) because yep Garp knows Croc is trans and Luffy’s other dad.

Crocodile never liked the idea of people knowing his secret: him being Luffy’s other parent. He knows in that world people like him are seeing in a bad way and if others will discover he isn’t cis, my god I’m sure people will keep misgendering him… and he would hate that. I imagine his past full of transphobic people, keep using wrong pronouns with him and forcing him to just be like “Mother Nature made him”… you know useless things like this. So well he grow up frustrated and angry, Iva was his light, the revolutionary army were his light. Even after hrt, Crocodile felt the oppression of not being cis (mostly when he got pregnant of Luffy). But in this Au, he with the support of others started to feeling more and more comfortable just being himself. He’s not cis? Who cares!

But if people will discover he is Luffy’s dad too and with so, the father that gave birth to him, i like to imagine him asking his friends (and love) some support. He is more comfortable being trans, but something like that is hard to handle anyway, because nobody asked for his consent! If that was his secret, and he wanted to keep that hidden, well there’s a reason.

I hope I explained everything at least in a decent way, feel free to ask for some more if you are curious or to ask something else in the ask box.

And correct me or tell me to change something, if you think is inappropriate please.

For a dear anon that i still didn’t answer, if you are seeing this, just know that your idea inspired me. I will draw what you said, because I know what to draw hehe but i need time because i have other art first 🙏🏻

[david-talks-sw]

The fact that Dave Filoni called Anakin “the greatest Jedi ever” is proof that he’s bias AF. His anti-Jedi rhetoric is bupkis.

I wonder if he means "the greatest" in terms of in-universe fame...?

Dunno if this is the case in Canon (then again Dave Filoni blatantly ignores any *non-motion* transmedia elements in Canon so meh), but in Legends he's:

"Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with no Fear™, handsome, dashing, the face of the Republic's army during the Clone War, the only Jedi who tried to resist the nefarious Order's coup and was treacherously murdered for it".

And I seem to remember that, in Canon, he's like the Jedi Temple's superstar anyway, every Jedi recognizes him on sight. I mean, that line from Baylon about "Anakin speaking highly of Ahsoka" must have some meaning beyond artificial personal stakes.

So from a fame and a "power level" standpoint... sure.

He's the greatest.

I'm giving Filoni the benefit of the doubt.

While I've talked about why Filoni's entire headcanon about the Jedi doesn't track with what George Lucas' intended narrative, I think it's worth acknowledging that Filoni's bias comes from part of his duties while directing The Clone Wars was.

One of the goals of TCW was humanizing Anakin, expanding upon his character make him go from "a character whose only purposes is to embody the themes presented in three movies based on the matinee serial format" to a relatable person, a good man, the hero Ben mentions to Luke in A New Hope.

I think it's normal that he'll see Anakin in a more positive light.

Also (and full disclosure this is just me theorizing I am no authority on any of this so if turns out I'm wrong just come right out and say so)...

I'm pretty sure that Filoni, Lesley Headland and most of the recent Star Wars authors are all Gen X, raised by baby boomers forced to conform to society, obey authority and have proper decorum (boys don't cry!) all of which they strove to rebel against. Add to that the corruption they witnessed growing up and coming out of high school, and you see a kind of jadedness emerge. "The rules aren't as black and white, the world is grey."

So while most of them and the boomers despised the Prequels upon release, a few of them projected a more individualistic headcanon onto those movies that fit with where their head was, at the time.

As such: Anakin isn't interpreted by them as a cautionary tale about what happens when you're greedy. He's a misunderstood rebel, a non-conformist who has his flaws but is ultimately good at heart. Which isn't entirely inaccurate, but it is very clearly an embellishment of a character who will one day become a space nazi.

The fact is... the Prequels were made by a boomer. One with very liberal values and who was himself a rebel, but a boomer all the same. The whole point of his story is...

"we all must come together and fight as one, if push comes to shove; we must all be compassionate and selfless if we are to survive; don't be greedy, let people go when it's their time to leave".

And then he makes the Jedi say that, making them beacons of truth and good and compassion in his fairy tale, now aimed at Gen Z kids.

Gen X-ers hear/read that and project all the boomer BS they had been told onto the Jedi...

"oh, so the Jedi are saying you shouldn't love yourself, you shouldn't be yourself, you should give up on what makes you an individual to fit in, you shouldn't feel any emotions"

Because nobody is that good, realistically, right?

This happened in other mediums. The one that comes to mind on the spot is the relationship between Mufasa and Scar.

In The Lion King, Mufasa is strong and noble, Scar is weak and conniving. Simple enough. Around that same time, in A Tale of Two Brothers, young Mufasa is shown to be pretty nice with Taka (Scar), who is framed as a spoiled brat to begin with.

Skip to the 2019 remake, and it's hinted Mufasa gave Scar his wound, and in The Lion Guard they explain that Scar got his nickname from Mufasa mocking him for a misadventure.

He went from being a noble king to a bully who had it coming, Scar is an underdog who got picked on. Because again: nobody is that pure, right? Fairytales be-damned.

Nothing is black and white, it's all grey.

So yeah, long story short I do think that Filoni being part of the generation that wasn't the target demographic but was old enough to retcon the crap out of the Prequels also plays a role into his view of Anakin.

[keirawantstocry]

hi tis i 💋anon. Im running out of ways to convey my love for your writing. Just kissing you is no longer enough, I need you to kill me- Youll still get kisses ofc but- AHHHH. anyways

So ive been having Thoughts about current tubbo. I think he needs to snap and be Covered in blood. Remember day 1 that he was back? where he Immediately threatened the Chocobos cause they were noisy, yeah just snaps and kills all of em. Then just, goes about his day after, not bothering to clean anythin. I feel fit would maybe have a moment of 'WHO DID HE KILL- oh okay', maybe quietly fawning after idk, camera cut to pac. jaw on the Floor, unable to get himself together, Bright Fuckin Red.

I Dont Know i just need more of Pac (and fit lets be honest) being obsessed with men that could(and would) kill them. I also just want Tubbo covered in blood. Thats also my agenda now.

Hope youre having a good day :> (srry that these Keep Gettin Longer)

darling I need you to know that I think ab this ask every day. kisses aren't enough, you need me to kill you?? that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard in my life. I get flustered everytime I read it. gah anyway enough about me you're here for the freaks (affectionate) also never apologize for how long they are i love it

Fit's first emotion when he spotted Tubbo was concern. The second was something deep in his gut that felt eerily similar to the feeling he got seeing Pac kill people in Purgatory. Which sort of made sense considering Tubbo was currently covered in blood. 

Tubbo met his eyes with a strangely empty look. “Hey Fit.” 

“Why are you covered in blood?” And why did his voice sound so strained when he asked?

Tubbo blinked at him slowly with eyes full of emotion that contradicted his emotionless face. “I got annoyed.” 

“At?” 

“Chocobos.” 

The deep feeling in his gut overtook the concern when he realized that Tubbo hadn't hurt an islander or child. “And you haven't cleaned the blood off why?” 

Tubbo's eyebrows dipped down. “I don't know.” 

Fit took a step forward and put his hand on the least bloody part of Tubbo's shoulder. “Why don't you come home with me and let me clean you off, yeah?” 

Tubbo nodded slowly. “Yeah okay.” 

-

Fit had forgotten one tiny detail. The tiny detail in question was standing in the doorway of Fit’s house with an open jaw and wide eyes. 

“Pac,” Tubbo said with a stupid grin before pushing past him into the house. Fit and Pac both watched as he walked straight over to the bathroom and slammed the door. 

Pac grinned with a stupid expression that Fit knew was the one he made at the men he liked. “Who did he kill? Did you watch? Do you think he’ll let me lick the blood off his face?” 

Fit choked on air. “Excuse me?” 

“C’mon,” Pac said in a whine. “He’s strong.” 

“Are you attracted to that?” Fit asked in half disbelief. 

“You’re saying you aren’t?” Pac asked. 

Fit froze. Took a long moment to consider it. It made a lot of sense. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. The intensity of the feeling in his gut that seemed to grow with every second. “Holy shit.” 

Pac laughed wildly. “You spent all that time in the wasteland and you’re telling me you never got a boner for some guy covered in blood?”

Fit spluttered turning bright red but before he could respond, the door to the bathroom was swinging open again. 

There stood Tubbo, shirtless, holding a damp cloth in his hand. “I can’t reach my back, can one of you-” 

“I’ll get it!” Pac interrupted, rushing over to take the wash cloth from Tubbo’s hand. Fit followed them both into the bathroom silently. 

Fit sat at the edge of the bathtub as Tubbo lifted himself up onto the counter. Pac’s mind was clearly out of it considering the long looks he was not subtly giving the man. And the fact he was cleaning blood off his chest and not his back like he had originally asked. But nobody was complaining. 

Fit had to admit there was truth to Pac’s line of thinking. There was something about the mess of blood on Tubbo’s chest that made his mind dizzy and his heart race. So yes. Nobody was complaining. 

Pac motioned for Tubbo to stand back up and he did so with a sigh, standing in front of Fit so Pac had room to work. Fit watched as Pac ran the washcloth under cold water again before wiping it quickly down the blood covering Tubbo’s back. He averted his gaze from his chest up to his face to see the slight pursing of his lips and the hiss at the evident chill of the water. 

“Fuck dude couldn’t made it any colder?” he bitched. 

Fit slapped him lightly on the arm and didn’t think about how warm his skin was. “Leave him alone. He’s helping you.” 

“And why aren’t you? If I remember correctly you said you would help clean me up. I was fine with being bloody, you're the one who insisted on this.” 

Pac paused and peeked at him over Tubbo’s shoulder. “Really?” 

Fit swallowed feeling dizzy and nodded. “Well, yeah.” 

“Then do it.” Tubbo was reaching behind him and taking the wash cloth from Pac’s hands. Fit saw it all in slow motion but with sharp vision. The washcloth was cold. The washcloth was in his hand. Tubbo was looking at him expectantly. 

“There’s no blood left on your chest,” Fit said stupidly, feeling incredibly out of his depth all of a sudden. 

Tubbo shrugged before taking a step forward and turning to sit himself down on Fit’s lap. Fit didn’t even know it was possible for his body to freeze up more but it did. Pac met his eyes, nervous trepidation meeting awestruck joy. Waving him on with one hand, Pac leaned back against the counter to watch them carefully. 

Slowly, Fit took a deep and careful breath. He brought the washcloth up every so gently to rub at the blood staining the skin at the top of Tubbo’s spine. The man’s shoulders slipped down as he relaxed and let the silence fill the room. With his non-metal hand, Fit held the curve of Tubbo’s bicep to keep both of them steady as he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn smudge of blood. The skin under his hand was so warm it was hard to focus on cleaning the blood off. Pac’s eyes were boring into him and the strangely soft lighting in the bathroom made this moment feel much more intimate than was to be expected. 

Simultaneously it felt as if it stretched on forever and also was over way too soon. 

Fit dropped his hand, letting the bloody washcloth fall to the floor. “There,” he said gently. 

“Thank you,” Tubbo said in an even quieter voice before he stood. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” Before either of them could protest, he was pulling his shirt back on and leaving. 

They both stared after him, feeling as if part of them was now missing. Pac giggled suddenly and Fit’s eyes darted over to him. “What are you laughing about?” 

“That was the most-” Pac laughed again. “That was just crazy. You two are something else.” 

“Shut up,” Fit grumbled. 

Pac just laughed once more before standing up to give Fit a quick kiss. “I’m going to go see what Richas is up to, okay?” 

Fit nodded, trying to clear his head. “Yeah, okay, I’ll see you later Pac.” 

“See ya, querido.” 

Fit’s head spun as he stood up. He had a lot to fucking think about.

[kerubimcrepin]

An analysis of the most important scene between Kerubim and Joris.

Aka, Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 7]

While Kerubim does want to help and care for Lilotte, he draws a line at getting Joris into a dangerous situation. He's mad at both of them for this stunt.

Joris isn't a kid who acts out or disobeys that often, so seeing Kerubim this pissed off is... very rare. Especially with that anger directed at him.

To make the argument less severe, he tries to present Kerubim with his new achievements in something that is important to him. So that maybe some semblance of pride for him, will get Kerubim to be less mad.

Kerubim shuts him down without any explanation, despite knowing how important sport is to Joris because the stress of Joris being in danger, and also deciding to be ~rebellious~ on this day of all days, is genuinely frying his brain.

But from Joris's pov, he's just being shitty. Just really shitty.

Yet, it is important to note, that at first, he goes along, and leaves Khan. Joris isn't really rebellious as a person.

Another thing that goes deeply wrong with this argument is Kerubim snapping at Joris's idol. Now, he has basically implied that both one of Joris's main interests, and someone Joris loves and looks up to, are worthless to him.

We know that's not what Kerubim means. Kerubim is terrified, and the terror made him angry at Joris, for scaring him further.

Chances are, when he got home and found nobody, his first thought wasn't that he and Lilotte ran away for boufbowl reasons.

But that devaluation is exactly what Joris hears.

The face journey Kerubim goes on in this shot is very interesting. I really do think Kerubim HATES Joris making up parents. He hates it because he knows the truth, and it hurts him, he hates it because he is his parent, and he hates it because feeling jealous of some imaginary constructs is just pathetic.

But he hasn't really said it out loud because fine, whatever, it's normal for a child to make things up. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Doesn't mean he doesn't think it's stupid, and that it isn't maddening to have this brought up when his mom is hunting them down and might hurt him.

However, Kerubim is a hypocrite:

"Making up stories" is something Kerubim has done for 10 years, and the fact that half of them are redacted, censored, or just actually made up, is something Joris accepts, — even values.

"Rules for thee, but not for me," is how Kerubim sounds while complaining about this.

And he's neglected to, uhhh... read Joris's mind to understand the yet unvoiced truth:

Joris despises many things about the way Kerubim treats him.

He wants Kerubim to stop touching him whenever he wants to, he wants him to stop calling him whatever the hell he wants, and he wants him to stop lying.

He would never say this out loud unless he was this mad, because he knows that it will upset Kerubim, and he doesn't want that, because the man is the only family he has, and he's already depressed.

Kerubim doesn't want him to ever grow up into an adult, become independent, and move out. He likes Joris cute, huggable, "doesn't say no to anything I do to him"-ish, and dependant, because that way, he won't leave Kerubim alone. He isn't exactly subtle about what he wants from Joris, and the only thing Joris can do about this, is just feel angry silently.

This is especially poignant, because we know Joris doesn't look his age, even as a ten-year-old. He gets treated like a small child, both inside and outside his own home.

Joris, of all the people in the whole world, yelling at him, is how Kerubim understands that he fucked up badly. It's over. It's more than over — he didn't just bomb this conversation, he nuked it.

Joris yelling at him is like a canary in a mine dying. He really hurt him this time.

What follows is, quite honestly, one of the most important moments for Joris as a character. These are things he says angrily, just to hurt Kerubim as much as possible, — yet there's a grain of truth to all of this, they are Joris's actual, real thoughts on their life, just wrapped up in anger.

Joris correctly identifies and attacks Kerubim's three biggest insecurities, — Joris leaving him, his own failures as a father, and their relationship being built on lies from the very beginning.

I think Joris has thought a lot on the ethics of their situation. Kerubim isn't his biological father so... who exactly gave him the right to raise Joris in these conditions, and take advantage of him for the sake of not feeling lonely and unwanted? I am sure, these are thoughts Joris chastised himself for, and yet...

This is the worst thing Kerubim has heard in the last ten to twenty years. This is his nightmare scenario. Did he miss all these signs that Joris was thinking these things? He hates himself. He just hates himself.

Joris attacks his weaknesses with a precision only a family member can possess.

This is his worst nightmare. And all he can manage to do is fulfil one of Joris's wishes: call him by his actual name, like an equal.

And he really did try to raise him as an equal. Like a best friend. And he failed. Because that's an unattainable goal.

[nerves-nebula]

Switch by A.S. King is probably the only book I’ve ever read that tackles the experience of having an inexplicably kinda evil sibling in a way I find realistic and relatable. Cuz like, my parents aren’t as, idk, innocent? Willing to face the problem? As the ones in switch? But also the oldest sister in that book is a malignant force upon the earth in a way I’ve only seen in my real actual life lmao

Usually I’m like problem children deserve time and attention and work but sometimes what the others kids deserve is to be away from that monster lol. There’s a part in the book where the mother is like “I saw it in her growing up and I knew that I should’ve taken her in the car and raised her away from all of you” and I’m like. Yeah. That probably would’ve been the best for us too.

The sister is described as like, a bomb or something, and the way that she’s never even in the book but still haunts it is so choice. It’s not that she’s born evil or whatever is that she chooses to be the worstttttt. Forever. And nobody knows why.

Idk. If you have an inexplicably terrible sibling you might like that book. It made me grateful my brother is mostly just violent and not that manipulative cuz he definitely has the malice in him for the shit the sister in this pulls, if not the patience to see it through.

I think the thing that gets me is that it probably doesn’t seem realistic to people who haven’t lived it. Or haven’t met a person like that. Cuz in a story you’re like “but WHY would she do all of that??? It doesn’t make sense!” but the truth is that some people just suck and yea they have personal reasons but usually those reasons aren’t much deeper than “to feel powerful” or “to be in control” or “because they felt snubbed or insecure” like. Some people really are Just That Bad, and they’ll probably never stop cuz they’re convinced they’re the victim. That book made my skin crawl and I loveddddd it

Honestly my biggest fear as a parent is having a kid like that and not knowing how to properly parent them so they dont turn out like my brother. I kinda believe that a lotta the issues with people like that come from parents assuming parenting is supposed to be nice or something and ignoring any Bad Signs but I’m worried if I had a kid I would have to watch them grow up fucked because I don’t know how to handle them.