#but I've gotten it under control since then

[bookwyrminspiration]

I think a part of their being less fanfics is that a some of people who wrote fanfic left the fandom due to the long gaps between unlocked and Stellarlune, as well as them not liking Stellarlune.

This is shown in the way that there is a lot of AU fics or post-canon fics. While a lot fo people do enjoy writing canon-complimentary fics, it’s not something everyone is interested in, plus canon right now is kind of weird so it’s easier to just ignore it.

Also, it seems that a lot of the fandom is older now, so we are more critical of our work and have less time/motivation to write fanfic, even if we want to. Plus, as people get older, they are more aware of how characters are out of character in our writing and they therefore feel the need to make them all in character.

To add on to that, the hits to likes/kudos to comments ratio is so freaking off it’s not even funny. There’s less engagement, which leads people to believe that they are not good at writing, which means that they shouldn’t post anything.

I know what I said isn’t true for everyone, but that does feel like that’s what is happening. I am just speaking based off of what I see and experience. Feel free to correct me if I am wrong.

What are your thoughts on this Quil? Do you agree or disagree? Do you think this will continue or will it be resolved with the next book?

Sincerely, ⚙️

(PS I wanted to say that I did read your Kam one shot and while I didn’t really fully process what was going on, I did enjoy reading it. You did a good job at nailing their characters. When I have the time, I will properly explain every feeling that I have.)

That's a fair observation--the one thing I'd say to your comments about older fandom members leaving and current older members having less time is that fandom is always in flux. There's always new people joining and others leaving, at least here, but it doesn't seem like as many of the newer people are fic writers. Like there were some popular fanartists who aren't in the fandom anymore, but we still have popular fanartists who have joined since. And my anecdotal observation is that that doesn't seem to be happening with fic writers as much--but again, that's a casual observation not a vetted one so I may be off or just not seeing new writers myself

Though our fandom is in a weird place right now with longer wait times and the story taking an unexpected direction, so I'm sure that also has an impact. I don't think there's any one thing that's responsible, there's an intersection of different things that impact people in different ways. I'm really just focusing on one that we have more control over. We can't control all the other factors, but we can collaboratively make a supportive, encouraging space for writers of all skill levels and interests! And I think it would be neat to do so!

As for the hit/like/kudos ratio, it is disheartening at times. Though I do think we shouldn't be basing our self-worth and opinions of our writing on interaction. If someone feels shitty about their writing/skill level because of low interaction I believe they should reflect and work to disconnect that sense of self from others' opinions, not that we need to interact to make them feel better. That is something for them to work through for themselves

But at the same time, it would be naive to completely ignore how interaction shapes writing and creation in general in fandom spaces. Because it does play a role for many. Fandom spaces are a community, and community is built on interaction and support!

I have no way of knowing what will happen with the next book or what the fandom will look like--like I said, it's always changing, and my time blindness makes it very difficult for me personally to see and understand the cycle of slumps and activity. But I think we, as a fandom, do have the opportunity to take some measure of control over this.

We can choose how to react to what we see and what kind of space we want to create. We could wait for the next book and just kinda see what happens, or we could make an active effort now to interact with writers and their work when we read it, and to separate our sense of worth from the amount of interaction we get.

That doesn't mean everyone has to go out and read tons of fic and leave the longest comments in the world, just that I think many of us (and this 100% includes me too) could put in a small amount of more effort to interact with fics and writers to support fic in fandoms in a variety of ways.

I'll leave it there for now, but there is always more to be said so don't take everything as the entirety of my thoughts. The main point of my post commenting on how I saw less fic was me going "hmm, I can't control everything else happening, but interaction and encouragement is very helpful for writers and something within my control and I want to support writers more than I do currently". I'm not intending to make some grand sweeping statement or push others to do things, it's just what I've reflected on and what I want to do about it :)

[corset]

Our mental health has been in such an interestingly terrible place for the last month or so. Genuinely kind of fascinating to watch from different internal angles....like watching the ocean ebb and flow and change temperament at random sometimes based on weather or the moon or something. Like this shit is just terrible

[shurple]

OH here's a list of some more if you wanna look into it

[arminsumi]

🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 ���𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐

<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.

𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules

You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.

And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.

"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."

You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.

"What?"

"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."

You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"

She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.

"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."

"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."

"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."

"He's changed!" you insist.

"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.

"I have faith in him." you say.

"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."

"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."

"..."

"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."

Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.

"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."

Her compliment makes you light up significantly.

You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."

"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."

"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"

"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.

"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.

"Condoms." Shoko says simply.

"He's got some."

"Bring your own, always."

"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.

Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"

"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"

"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."

You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."

*****

While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.

From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.

And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.

The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.

"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.

"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"

"I've changed."

You hum skeptically.

"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.

"If we got married, how long would it last?"

"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.

You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.

"... let me think about it."

"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.

"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.

He grins at you.

*****

Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.

He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.

"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.

You giggle in response, "Stop..."

"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.

You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.

"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.

He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.

"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.

You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"

He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.

But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.

*****

Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.

You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.

Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.

Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.

****

Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.

"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.

He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.

"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."

Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.

"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.

When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.

Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.

Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.

"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.

"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."

"Aw, but I was gonna — "

"Nowww!" you beg.

He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."

You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.

By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.

"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.

You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.

"I need you."

"Need me how?"

"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.

"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."

"I want your cock inside me."

"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"

You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"

"That's better." he grins.

Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.

Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.

"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.

"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"

He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.

"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"

It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.

As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.

"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"

"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"

"Let me take the condom off, baby."

You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.

"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.

He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.

And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.

Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.

"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.

"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."

"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."

The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.

His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."

"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.

He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.

"Good girl."

"C-call me a slut again, please."

He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."

Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.

Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.

"You were so loud." he laughs.

Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.

He rings out with laughter.

*****

After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.

No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.

"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."

He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't really help."

"Then what can I do?"

"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.

Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.

Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.

"I should go home."

He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.

"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."

"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."

"How can I trust you?" you ask.

"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.

"But you're just joking about that!"

"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.

You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.

"I love you more every time I see you."

You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.

"I'm gonna go." you say.

He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.

"I'll take you home." he says quietly.

*****

Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.

"You look dreadful."

"Thanks."

"Bad date?"

"The worst..."

"Still love him?"

"... yeah."

"Marriage?"

"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.

Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."

"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.

"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."

"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"

"Wait. Strike at the right moment."

"I'm not a cobra."

"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."

"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."

"Love you more."

*****

Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.

"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."

Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."

"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.

"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.

"I knowww!"

"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"

"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."

"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."

"You have a point... I'm listening."

"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."

*****

"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"

"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."

"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.

Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."

You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.

"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"

"... it was just once."

"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"

"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."

"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"

"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."

"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.

You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."

"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.

"I am!" you cry back dramatically.

The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.

"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.

You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"

"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.

"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.

You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —

"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.

"That's just like him."

"Maybe he has a Linkedin."

"You're desperate."

"Yeah!"

"Wait, here's something...?"

You investigate further.

"It's private?!"

Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.

"Comedy!"

"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.

Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You're CRAZY."

"I am!"

"Let me watch, let me watch."

"Okay. I'm doing it."

*****

Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.

And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.

He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.

Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍

@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.

@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊

"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.

Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.

His heart races.

*****

"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."

"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"

"Yeah."

You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.

Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.

"NO WAY."

"Is it him? What did he say?"

"He said 'hey'. He's online."

"Well say something!"

You panic, "What do I say?"

"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"

"Okay."

wanna go for coffee sometime?

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?

it's about satoru

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight

i'm serious 😠

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us

"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.

"REPLY TO HIM."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."

Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.

"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."

"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."

"Make it sound sillier."

"There."

Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.

"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"

"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."

"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"

Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."

You look back to your phone.

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?

"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."

"I don't know."

"SHOKO."

"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."

"ME TOO."

"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."

"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"

Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."

*****

Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.

@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.

[cagesings]

been  hanging  out  on  graziella  today,  (  finally  )  getting  things  done  on  there  so,  um,  indulge  me  and  listen  to  my  w.ss  ramblings

[ozzgin]

Yandere School Q&A

I've gotten some related asks and thought I'd put them in a cleaner format, so I don't spawn another round of screenshots from my inbox.

Ohhh how would yan school react if y/n got hurt somehow?? Also quick question is her parents also platonic yans for them? Thanks!! - Anonymous

It only makes sense that the staff of the school is yandere material, too. The students may rush to help and insist they've got it under control, but the school nurse will be quick to act. It's the chance of a lifetime, having you to himself, and for longer than the usual standard checkup. The curtains are pulled, and the "do not disturb" sign is flipped. Your injuries are not to be taken lightly. You'll need to spend all day under his supervision.

The parents and all relatives are indeed platonic yanderes! I thought it'd be a nice touch since I've never approached the trope before.

YAYAYAYYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAA MORE YANDERE SCHOOLLLLLL You’re amazing!!!!! (I had to ask to make sure I used the right your/you’re) also is the darling yandere gonna keep sabotaging y/n? - @femboybasil

The tying up incident was actually an exception to what I originally planned, haha. For most of the competitions, darling yandere will guide (Y/N) and aid them for a flawless win. That's the comedy of it: he's indirectly doing the yandere part while trying to be discreet enough as to not alert the other yanderes. Additionally, (Y/N) helps him with the darling tasks. Though that part is very much expected by everyone from school. The Daring Academy teachers are probably observing the activities, baffled. "Who the hell is that student? What skill...what obliviousness. They should've applied to us."

If you’re comfortable with this concept, (since it’s a school-based series I don’t know if the reader and yanderes are minors are not, if they are then you don’t have to write this.) but obviously the students of the Yandere Academy are going to need to learn how to tie up their darlings once they’ve been captured. Would you mind writing a little blurb about it since Reader is the unofficially assigned darling stand-in for their classes? - Anonymous

This is the ask I used for the tying up idea in Part 3! To answer your worries, all of my stories involve 18+ characters! Just wanted to clear it up for anyone in doubt. The school/academy setup is more of a college/university kind of institution. I do love a good high school setup, but not for self insert romance.

I’d imagine that there’s a drama class at the yandere school to help the students learn how to act and seem innocent. What if they put on a musical or something like Phantom of the Opera (because of course it would be that) and reader got the role of Christine or the equivalent. Imagine all the yanderes fighting for the role of their love interests to get the excuse to kiss them, and other yanderes trying to sabotage them as tactfully as possible to keep the show going, but replace the leads to be alongside reader. Think that may be something cool to add/write about? No pressure of course! - Anonymous

You know the whole thing is going to turn into a ninja survival shitshow. They had hoped to never cast (Y/N) in any role, for everyone's safety. And for the most part, (Y/N) thankfully never showed any interest in the drama club.

The supervising teacher held (Y/N)'s application form with trembling hands. It seems their little club had finally run out of luck.

Worst part: the school can't even rely on the teachers. They're just as desperate to see their cute little (Y/N) perform on stage. "Maybe this job is too overwhelming for one person, sensei..." they'll smugly tell the original supervisor. "We could divide some tasks. Someone else could train (Y/N), for example..."

ok here me out, what if there is like a field trip or sports festival kind of thing where the Yandere and Darling academy meet up. Basically where a Yandere and a darling are made to pair up to go through the numerous activities (maybe ones that test their yandere/darling skills) so reader decides to pair up with clumsy Yandere ( who is in Darling academy) much to the displeasure of Yandere classmate. Maybe like a battle of the the Yanderes? - Anonymous

This was a little trippy to read, because it came right after part 3, haha. Which I feel is basically the same plot. Though it would be interesting to see how it'd play out if the stranger was Reader's best friend instead.

Reader excitedly approaches Clumsy!Yandere and asks him to work together, to the dismay of all other students. They're enraged. You can see it plainly: their hands tremble, their jaws are clenched, their eyes have a psychotic glint. Poor Clumsy!Yandere is in constant shivers, unaware of the death stares. You're cheerfully guiding him around, his hand in yours, happy to see your friend again.

[rassicas]

I've gotten a hold of a very rare issue of Nintendo Dream from October 2017, containing an interview with the Splatoon developers. like seriously, i hadn't seen any documentation of this anywhere. HUGE huge thanks to @squidhominid, who spent Too Much Money to buy a copy and scan it!! Since a lot of it is formatted in blurbs like what's pictured above, I'd been unsure how to organize and share translations...I've decided I will gradually share snippets of it like so and compile it all later. Please be patient. Translation under the cut.

In relation to the characters from Story Mode The Rule-abiding Octarian Army

---Is Octavio a DJ and a general? Inoue: Well, his name is General DJ Octavio (laughs). He commands the Octarian army, so naturally he's a general. [[TN: Octavio's JP name includes "General" rather than just "DJ Octavio" like in english.]] ---Going off of that, there are other ranks, right? Amano: That's right. The Octarians as a species act seriously, so if they didn't have ranks they wouldn't be able to work properly. (laughs) Inoue: Originally, we made Octavio as a character as a pair to Cap'n Cuttlefish on the Inkling's side. Now as for why Octavio is an octopus that holds wasabi sticks... the act of "grating" wasabi made us think of "scratching", and "scratching" made us think of "DJ"...So he came to be both a general and a DJ. [[TN: takowasa, or octopus and wasabi paired together, is a popular izakaya snack. Same goes for atarime, (cuttlefish's JP name) dried squid. It's supposed to be like a snack showdown.]] Nogami: The Octarians are led by music. Octavio makes his own music to control them. Inoue: The music tells them to move and work according to the rules (laughs). ---So, for him as a general, is the music just for controlling the Octarians? Or does he enjoy it? Amano: It is for leadership, with that 'duntz duntz' sort of tempo. So I think for him, he sees the popularity and influence of the Squid Sisters as something that has a military-like controlling power. ---Is Cap'n Cuttlefish unable to turn into squid form, and can Octavio not turn into humanoid form? Amano: Cuttlefish can probably transform and produce some ink, but not like he could in his younger years. It's like when your grandpa says he's gonna do a squat, and he can kind of do it, but not really... it's like that. Inoue: Octavio became unable to take on his humanoid form due to an injury he got long ago. In a Sunken Scroll in S1, you can see a figure who appears to be Octavio before he was injured.

[[TN: This has to be the true origin to the information of Octavio being unable to take on humanoid form! I was troubled by the fact that when this info was brought up by the writers of nintendo dream in that 2018 issue in a way that made it sound like obvious information, they didn't say when or where they heard it...but this is it.]]

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 6: "Who did this?"

Cw: homophobic language used (f word, not used by main characters)

Steve was late.

He was never late which is why Eddie had spent the last twenty minutes pacing around the trailer. Since Spring Break and Eddie's release from the hospital Saturdays had been movie night for the two older boys. A movie night that became date night a couple months ago when Steve smiled so softly at him and Eddie couldn't help but risk it all and kiss him. Steve never was late, but especially not on Saturdays.

Eddie knew Steve had a closing shift, solo because Robin had finally gotten the courage to ask out Vickie. Sometimes closing took longer alone but Steve always would call to let Eddie know. Eddie had already tried ringing the store multiple times but got nothing but voicemail.

Now, twenty minutes later, he couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed his keys and tried to keep his panic under control as he drove to the store, hoping that maybe he'd pass Steve on the way and it would all be a misunderstanding.

His relief at seeing Steve's car parked outside Family Video was short lived. The lights in the store were off, doors shut, no Steve. He parked quickly, jumping out, that's when he saw the real state of Steve's car. The tyres were slashed, headlights and a couple windows smashed and as he rounded the side looking for Steve he saw in bright red spray paint "faggot".

"Shit," Eddie whispered, "Steve!?" he called out desperately. Against all odds he heard a whimper from behind the store. He quickly ran around, his eyes catching on a crumpled figure curled up on the ground. "Steve? Baby, sweetheart, are you ok? Who did this? What hurts, love?" Eddie rambles crouching down towards him, brushing his fingers gently on his face which thankfully looks unharmed, Steve couldn't get another concussion.

"Ankle," Steve whimpers out, Eddie sees that it's red and swollen, he hopes it's just a sprain since it looks ok otherwise. "Stevie, what happened baby?"

"Can we go home first please?" Home had been the trailer for awhile now, Steve rarely went back to Loch Nora these days. "Of course, sweetheart, where are your keys, Wayne and I will come deal with your car later."

Steve whimpered again, "They're on the roof, I fell trying to get them back." Eddie sighed, running a comforting hand down Steve's side, "That's ok, sunshine, we'll deal with that tomorrow too, c'mon I've got you just lean on me." Eddie looped an arm under Steve helping him limp back to the van, Steve pointedly didn't look at his car. The drive home was quiet but thankfully not tense, more tired.

Eddie set Steve up on the couch, a pack of frozen peas on his ankle, he'd get Wayne to look at it when he got home later. He gingerly sits beside him, trying not to jostle Steve's foot too much. Steve immediately leans against his side, the weight of the night seeping out of him.

"I'm sorry."

Steve looked up quickly, "Why are you sorry?"

"You wouldn't have gotten hurt, whichever assholes that did that wouldn't have done it to you if it wasn't for me, Steve."

Steve sighed, "Eds, look at me." Eddie lifted his eyes to meet Steve's hazel ones wondering how much longer he'd get the privilege of being close enough to see the flecks of green in them. "I faced monsters worse than some homophobic assholes to get the honour of loving you, Eddie."

Eddie's breath caught in his throat at Steve's words but he continued, "I don't care what they call or do to me as long as you're always there to come get me, that I always get to come home to you, that's all that matters to me, not the car, not words, just you and me, ok?"

"Ok," Eddie whispered, he thinks he'd start crying if he tried to respond anymore. Steve nodded, satisfied, "Good, I love you, Eds, now can we please watch a movie. We were supposed to finish the trilogy tonight and if I see Dustin on Monday and can't answer his questions he'll pick you as his favourite and that won't do."

Eddie giggled at that, even when faced with danger and hate, Steve could make him smile, "Of course, sunshine." As the text began to scroll on the screen he wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders, "Love you too, baby, thank you for giving me the honour." Just him and Steve, against the world, upside down or otherwise.

[ghouljams]

i sent this concept before so if you really hate it you can ignore it again but since we’re talking about abo. afab beta reader who’s omegacurious. like she really wishes she could be knotted and bred by an alpha but she doesn’t have the anatomy to take the knot without getting hurt cause her stupit guts get in the way 😭 still she fearlessly buys knotted dildos and trains her ass on them before asking her alpha best friend if he can pretty please knot and breed her 🥰 if she dies she dies

I actually don't know if I've gotten your ask before, but if I had I'm sure my answer would've been the same!

Everyone regardless of endotype can "take" a knot in my au. Human bodies are so stretchy it doesn't make sense that there'd be a hole(save mouths) that couldn't take a little extra stretching. So plenty of betas have alpha partners and have no trouble being knotted. Mostly because it has always been really weird to me that Betas were included in the gender hierarchy but were somehow completely divorced from it as well?? So in my omegaverse everyone can smell pheromone signatures, everyone has a fertility cycle, and everyone can take a knot.

The only people that really run into any issues are alpha/alpha relationships, especially m/f alpha relationships, but not because they can't take a knot... :3c

-

You can feel yourself tightening, your knot starting to squeeze Knönig's cock as he fucks you closer and closer to orgasm. The way his thick cock stretches you out, forces your knot back, makes your eyes roll. It makes your cunt tingle with heat, the stretch burning through your core. Each thrust hits you deep and hard in a way that aches, arching your spine, pushing moans from your chest that König greedily swallows down. His tongue invades your mouth, his scent invades your nose, the stick of his sweat on your skin makes your head spin. He's a glass of water at midnight, best taken in gulping, gasping breaths until you're sated. You're never sated.

The only problem is the fat knot that's starting to press against your entrance. The same entrance that's trying to lock him in place. The first time it had happened you'd been so worried about tearing that you'd almost broken his nose trying to kick him off of you, now you know better. You can feel the way your body relaxes even as your stomach tightens. Your muscles shake with tension ready to be released, but the way his fingers rub against your clit coaxes them towards melting as well. You're caught. Tensed and teased into this gasping writhing mess.

You can feel the rush of adrenaline already spiking when his hands grip your hips. His teeth snag against your bottom lip, crooked, chipped in the front from too many fights, tempting in their ability to draw blood.

"Ready liebchen?" He asks, his grip on your hips tightened to bruising. Your forehead knocks against his when you nod, your breath shuddering too much to think about speaking. Especially not when his fingers flex, and you're suddenly, achingly, full of him.

There's no build up, no gentleness, he pulls you onto his knot with a conviction that makes you think he could pull the moon from the sky. You're stretched past your limit, your own knot forced back into place, before the sudden rush of pretty, tingling, fullness snaps your control like a bow string, and your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. The way König moans as your internal knot squeezes tight around his is music to your ears. Tied to each other. You can feel the first hot spurt of come hitting your overworked walls.

König hum, grinding into you in a way that makes you whimper.

"There now," he coos, "easier every time." His big hand rests low on your stomach, his thumb rubbing lazily at your clit. You can feel the way your walls pulse around him, your poor pussy doing it's best to milk his stupid cock for all it's worth. He moves to rub at the soft stretched skin around your entrance, pushing at the spongy knot that hides under your skin. The feeling makes you gasp, your legs kicking at him uselessly as he massages the area, bringing you right back to the edge. "I think she's starting to like me." The smile in his voice could peel paint off the wall.

"Stop moving please." A vain plea. You know it'll be mere minutes before he's trying to fuck his knot past yours and then you'll both be begging.

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. jealousy is a disease !

there's nothing wrong with a little bit of jealousy, right? as long as you're honest about it, surely...

featuring : till

cw : fluff, gn!reader, mentions of death/being killed but nothing too graphic, probably ooc till...

a/n : OMGOMGOMG ALNST FIC ON TUMBLR???? i wasn't expecting to find any, but i find quite a lot!! i was so happy so i decided to make one myself and joined all the other writers>:) i've never watched any theory videos, so i dont really know how till acts. but from the limited videos alone, i can atleast know his personality;)

he really wouldn't have cared at all if you got closer to another human, or even an alien—is what he thought, as if he isn't glaring at you talking to your fans. your smile at those aliens lining up to shake your hands doesn't help. why would you even smile at all the aliens anyways? they all look ugly. he knows that how popular you are is not under your control, and that this is all arranged by your owner. but still, he doesn't like it, not even a single bit.

but he is happy that you're getting the recognition you deserve, after being forc—i mean, working hard for it all. but it still upsets him at how happily you talk to all the aliens, the smile you gave them, the look of adoration that you gave them. you noticed that he's been staring at you the whole time, though. but you made it seem as if you didn't, which annoys him. if he could, he would grab you by the wrist and ran away as fast as he can with you following him. but he won't. he doesn't want or like the risk of the both of you being killed because of that.

so, he endured his jealousy for what felt like an hour, and it all finally ended. "i'm sorry, have i kept you waiting?" you finally turned at him, your face glistening with sweat. even with how messy your makeup and hair has gotten after all those handshake, you still look as ethereal as ever. "till?" you tilt your head curiously when he didn't reply.

"uh—huh, what? sorry. was zonin' out." he noticed that he have been looking at your face the whole time and unintentionally ignored your question. "what did you say again?" he asked, looking away from your face this time in embarrassment. you only chuckled softly at him before finally repeating your question. "no, you didn't, it's alright." he answers quickly, as if trying to hide something, making you raise an eyebrow. "really? i really didn't keep you waiting?"

"no, it's fine. let's get inside the car before the driver leaves us here." the driver really won't leave you both here, since it's literally his job to drive the both of you from place to place. it's just his excuse to leave the place faster so he could make you get away from all your fans. "you seem to be eager of leaving this place, is something wrong?" you come closer to him, concern lacing in your gaze. with how close you are to him, it's hard for him to hide his flustered face.

so, he just turned around and walked towards the exit, making you even more confused and concerned for him. he walks really fast too, while you struggle to follow him behind.

"till, are you alright? do you feel sick? uncomfortable? or is it something else?" you asked him once again, and he avoided your gaze again. it keeps happening over and over to the point that if someone else were to watch you both from afar, they'd thought that the both of you are playing a game of tag. it took a lot of convincing from you, but he finally tells you why. not directly though, he doesn't want you to think that he's too clingy.

"i-i got a little... annoyed, when your fans got closer to you, i guess..." he muttered to himself, which made you unable to hear what he says clearly. you tilt your head to look up at him, then cup his cheeks in your hands, earning a soft gasp from him. "w-what are you—"

"are you perhaps... jealous?" you grin at him, his face growing redder as time pass. "i'm—not! let go of my face!" he grips one of your wrist with his hand, but he didn't even make an attempt to move your hands away from his face. "really? your expression says otherwise." you giggle when he glares at you, although his red face betrays the 'scary look' he's giving you.

"i said i'm not, end of the story. let's get in the car or whatever..." he finally swats your hand away, not too harsh though, and he walks away from you. your giggle only grew louder at how flustered he got just from one single interaction with you. "wait for me, till. you can't leave a celebrity like me behind... you don't want any of my fans catching up to me, do you?"

"ugh, stop talking about that!"

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[thecordelialetters]

Homelander x Vampire! Reader

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Summary: There's nothing that taste better than the blood of the strongest supe in the world. Warning: Fem! reader insert, smut, explicit sex Wc: 1,778

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Since you developed them at the age of 8, your powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.

"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.

"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.

Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚NSFW BELOW ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧

Since you developed them at the age of 8, you're powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.

"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.

"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.

Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚NSFW BELOW ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧

"In that case. Continue." He stepped back slightly to undo the top of his suit and pulled it all the way down, letting his cock spring out for the bottom, slapping against his stomach. You were the worst double agent, but you were doing this for Annie, why not have some fun. You leaned against him, feeling him pressed on this stomach. You kissed his shoulder, opposite hand running down his chest. "So smell so good." His hand gripped your waist harder. You bit into his shoulder as he lifted you once more, legs going around his waist. His cock rubbed up against you, mouth moaning in your ear. You moved towards his neck again and bit the other side. Releasing your lips from his neck you pressed them against his, smothering the red liquid against him. He was such a passionate kisser, way better than any man you've ever dated. You broke the kiss only to shed your suit, blue eyes scanning every inch of your body. It was like you were the perfect specimen, not a flaw in sight, utterly beautiful. "I knew you'd be a great addition to the team." He said. You smirked in retaliation before sauntering to the bedroom. He followed, like a lost puppy and their owner. The bedroom was the same black and red color scheme, black silk sheets covered the bed, surrounded by dark wood furniture. There were red and white spider lily bouquets placed in vases throughout the room. There were way too many ornate vintage lamps. But the details didn't matter to you, not when Homelander was rubbing himself up and down your slit. He kissed your neck in a similar fashion as you, before slamming his hips against yours. There was no need to be soft, you two were the strongest in the world, and the sounds definitely proved it. The best rocked with each moment, the wood creaking from the pressure. He cried out loud as you bit his chest. His cock was pulsing as pushing in and out of you. He slammed into you again, the tension of the bed finally breaking and falling to the ground but that didn't stop him. Your pussy clenched around him. He grunted in your ear speeding up slightly before releasing his hot cum deep in you. He rolled off you and the two of you laid there panting filling the silence. You turned over to him with a smile, fang pushing out the bottom of your lips. "Again?"

[aimedis]

IDIOTS - D.A.M.N CREW

i wrote this a while back (months ago lol) but i'm just now getting around to editing and posting it since i've been semi-active on tumblr these days

cw - lighthearted argument between damien and lasko, fake hostility, gavin being whipped for freelancer

wc - 1.1k

Lasko huffs, “Stop making fun of me, asshole.”

“It's not my fault. For a teacher, you're stupid." Damien clicks his tongue.

“W-well you’re just being absurd!”

“I’m being absurd? I’m being absurd?!”

“Yes, you are!”

Huxley groans into a throw pillow, collapsing back against the couch, “Where is Rainshower when you need them?”

“Off doing their teacher duties. They're helping Freelancer with water control or.. something back at D.A.M.N.” Gavin hums, not even paying attention to them both as he goes through his phone absentmindedly. He was mostly thinking about when the Freelancer was coming back and waiting until he could feel their familiar aura again.

They had both left before the boys arrived at the apartment. It was supposed to be their lazy Saturday morning before their hangout and Gavin was seconds from falling back asleep on their chest before they’d gotten a phone call from Dear.

The conversation was quiet and mundane enough for Gavin to ignore it and let his breathing even out until his Freelancer sat up at the end of it.

Of course, Gavin protested, as much as he could while being half-asleep at least— but they’d still gotten away from him.

“I gotta get up, Gav.” They’d hummed quietly as they ruffled his hair

“Nuh uhh.. ‘re not goin’ anywhere.” Gavin’s sleep-addled voice called out, clinging tightly onto their shirt with his eyes still closed.

"Yuh huh, Lasko's partner is helping me out with my water magic."

They’d slipped out from under him pretty easily and Gavin rolled over to glare at them. When they kissed him softly with a little smile playing on their lips, he’d kissed them back out of instinct (and when did he not want to kiss his love?) and then they slipped out of bed—away from his arms

Gavin had whined and pouted and used his very effective persuasion skills but apparently, last-minute practice before an exam was more important than his happiness.

"I love you, I'll be back in a little bit."

Gavin huffs and opens his eyes then, his hair pretty much blocking his entire view of them.

Freelancer laughs and kisses his forehead, "Relax, clingy, it's only like two hours. You don't want me to fail do you?"

"Do it tomorrow.." Gavin whines, reaching out to hold onto them so they couldn't leave but they escaped him again, blowing him a kiss and telling him to go back to sleep. Which he did, begrudgingly.

And now he's here trying his best not to sulk, wallowing in the feeling of half-hollowness that always came with being apart from his Deviant. He should be put off by that feeling, the feeling of missing a part of himself when they’re not near should scare or annoy him. But he can’t find it in himself to care much when his person is still gone.

“Lasko, you fatherless freak, would you just listen to me?!”

“Me?! Damien you hypocritical piece of shit-”

Gavin is startled out of his thoughts by the laugh that leaves his body, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. Huxley groans even louder then, his hand covering his face “Why is this happening to me..”

“That was so uncalled for,” Gavin says still laughing but about to try and futilely console Huxley when his phone chimes with a notification.

freelancer ❤️ hey gav we're like five minutes away, we got snacks

He perks up, not bothering to be embarrassed about the wide smile spreading across his face.

me hurry back i miss you

freelancer ❤️ just be patient you baby

“Okay!” Damien groans and looks over at Gavin and Huxley on the couch in exasperation, “I think we need a second opinion-“

Lasko huffs, “I think you need a sedative-"

Damien looked as if he was about to slap him, “Shut up! Guys, tell Lasko that-“ Damien cuts himself off when he glances at Gavin smiling like an idiot at his phone, “What on Earth are you smiling about over there?”

At those words, Gavin looked up and his face returned to normal but it was already too late—Huxley and Lasko had also seen the lovesick grin on his face while he was looking at his phone.

He was done for.

Huxley’s signature smile was back on his face when it clicked in his brain, “Aww, were you texting Freelancer? You look so happy!”

Lasko holds his breath to keep from laughing at Gavin’s reddening face but it only made him laugh harder.

“It’s sickening is what it is.” Damien snorts leaning against the couch, crossing his arms, “Did they send you a sappy message about how much they miss you and wanna kiss your stupid face?”

“Did you respond with a ‘I miss you baby’?” Huxley laughs and his voice goes up an octave at the last phrase

“Did you add a bunch of sickly sweet emojis at the end?” Lasko chimes in between his laughter

“Did you add a bunch of sickly sweet nicknames too?”

“Shut up,” Gavin groans lightheartedly, sitting up as he scratches the back of his neck, “You guys are annoying. And hypocrites. Did you forget I'm a demon?” He smiles sweetly.

That gets Damien and Lasko to shut up, suddenly averting the other two's gazes

At that moment, Freelancer is heard opening the front door and calling out.

“We're back!”

“Thank god,” Lasko whispers in a completely different tone than Gavin does.

By the time any of them look back up, Gavin was gone to the doorway as well.

“Whipped,” Huxley snorts.

“Says you,” Lasko chimes in softly, looking back at his phone.

Damien huffs, “Says you. Didn’t you cry for three hours after you and-“

Lasko shoots a gust of wind at a sheet of paper on the coffee table to fly into Damien’s face. He responds by setting the sheet on fire, raising an eyebrow at the air-elemental.

“Shut your mouth, Damien, I’ll suffocate you,” Lasko glares.

Damien rolls his eyes and gets up to sit next to Huxley again, “Yeah, as if, air elemental who's scared of heights.”

“Says the guy who's half French and can’t even speak the language.”

Damien looks as if he would get up again to start another less verbal fight but Dear is now standing in the doorway, clearing their throat.

They raise an eyebrow, "What are you two fighting about this time?"

And the two of them immediately jump back into yelling over each other, ranting about some stupid move Damien loved and Lasko thought was absolute ass.

Huxley shakes his head and wraps an arm around his boyfriend with a smile, keeping Damien trapped at his side while Dear tries to mediate like an exhausted parent.

Outside in the doorway of the apartment, Gavin has his arms wrapped around Freelancer's waist, theirs around his neck. He sighs happily, feeling tension bleed from his body at finally having his lover back in his arms. Safe and happy.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

blah blah blah two twinks fighting huxley sigh freelancer this freelancer that deviant mom friend dear whipped gavin french damien mention and post

[virescent-v]

Appetizer

Summary: This is a shitty combination of two prompts I've had sitting in my inbox for awhile now. "Take your top off and open another bottle of wine for mommy" from Paget during a Drunk History episode and one where Emily teases reader in public. A/N: Idk how I feel about this one besties. The idea took hold and then this happened. If it's bad, I blame it on the fact that I haven't written/posted anything in months...and also my adhd running rampant during this writing session. But it did feel good to get words on a doc and to send it out to the internet void. Enjoy!

Warnings: It's smut! (Surprise, surprise! lol). If there are any typos, don't tell me Word count: 2.3k

When Emily cornered you in your bedroom before leaving for the restaurant, pressing your back against your vanity, you thought she was just going to kiss you senseless, leave you breathless, a taste of what’s to come later when you got back home. 

What you didn’t expect was for her to be kissing up your neck, whispering all the things she wants to do to you, as her fingers found their way up under your tight, little, skirt. 

With your head tilted back, each choking breath stuttering from your mouth, you tried to speak, to tell Emily you were going to be late to your reservation, but it didn’t seem like she was bothered by that fact. 

“I want to try something tonight, love,” she whispered against the shell of your ear. You weren’t even sure you could speak with how much she had already gotten you worked up, so you simply, albeit shakily, nodded. 

Emily pulled back from you, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. She reached around you to an unremarkable box on your vanity that you had missed earlier. Slowly, she pulled the lid off, each second seemingly passing with each breath you took. 

When the lid finally popped off, Emily glanced up at you, now a little more cautious than she was a few moments ago. Peeking inside, you could see a dark purple bullet vibrator nestled inside a cocoon of velvet. 

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emily hesitated, her eyes on the toy. Running her finger lightly over the smooth, silky-like silicon, she whispered, “I want you to wear this. To dinner. It comes with a remote for me to control. We’ve never talked about doing something like this, so you have every right to say no.” 

Her eyes met yours. In them, you could see her want for this, but more importantly, her want for you to feel comfortable with doing something like this. Emily usually took lead with things like this, but you were always the one actually in charge. 

Leaning in, you kissed her slowly, pouring every ounce of want and love into it. Leaning back, you took a deep breath. “I want to. I trust you, Em. I know you’ll stop if I need or want to and you’d never put me, or us, in any harmful situation.” 

Emily released the breath she seemed to be holding, a smile spreading across her mouth. “You’re right. Now, panties off, angel.” 

*** 

Maybe this had been a bad idea. 

You were barely able to string together sentences to answer the questions that the waiter kept asking you in regards to your food and order. You were pretty sure that your cheeks had been flushed since you entered the building. 

Emily was a master at playing with you -  with playing with the remote that was nestled in her pocket. She’d turn the settings to different vibrational patterns, watching as your breathing would match the pace that the toy set inside you. She paid close attention to the way the faster settings would have you gripping the edge of the table, the way the pulsating settings made you squirm in your seat. A combination of both would have you biting your lip in hopes of stifling the moans that wanted to escape. 

You didn’t know what was hotter; the way you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each quiver of the toy inside you, or the way Emily leaned back in her seat, enjoying the view of you trying to hold yourself together. 

Being so skilled at reading your body language, Emily knew exactly when you were reaching the precipice, ready to topple over the edge right there at the table. 

The problem, however, is that she wouldn’t let you. 

Worse, you couldn't even ask for her to let you cum. Every time you tried, your voice got strangled in your throat, caught between a moan and a curse that you had to swallow so as to not make your situation…obvious to the other patrons at the restaurant. 

Thankfully, when your food finally arrived, Emily took pity on you and turned the vibrator completely off. 

“How are you doing, pretty girl?” 

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. Almost. “You know exactly how I’m doing, Em.” 

Emily chuckled. “I sure do, but I enjoy hearing you say it anyways.” 

You were starting to feel a little…bratty… from the fact that you hadn’t been able to cum yet and the fact that you weren’t even sure when you would be allowed to. 

But two could play this game. 

With an almost bored, casual tone, you picked at your nails as you said, “I’m so wet, I’m not entirely sure it hasn’t gone through my dress yet. I love the feel of the toy inside me, but I wish it was your fingers or your strap instead.” 

You watched as Emily blinked a few times, her mouth agape, not anticipating you responding like that. You knew how much she loved it when you talked dirty, but she didn’t expect you to say it like that, nor in such a public place. 

She cleared her throat as you took slight pleasure in the fact that you had her flustered for once this evening. “Mind your words, princess. I can edge you even after we get home,” she said, her eyebrow raised. 

Part of you wanted to push back, lean into the bratty headspace you could feel yourself drifting into. But you knew Emily and that tone of voice. She wasn’t kidding. One time, she edged you for hours and still didn’t let you cum. Then proceeded to not let you cum for days. You didn’t want a repeat of that experience. 

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock saluted. 

Emily just smiled, amused at your antics, and continued to eat. 

You weren’t sure what to make of it; you expected her to fire back with some other quick-witted, snarky, sexy response. It kind of tilted you off axis, not sure of what happened. 

You decided to ignore it, picking up your fork to continue eating. However, once the food was on your fork and halfway to your mouth, Emily turned the vibrator on to its highest setting. The surprise vibrations sent your fork clunking back onto the table, drawing the gaze of a few other patrons. 

“Emily,” you hissed under your breath, your jaw clenched, as you tried to gesture an apology to the people sitting near you. 

Another smirk graced her pretty face. “Hurry up and finish eating, love. I want to enjoy dessert at home,” she said with a wink. 

*** 

You weren’t sure you were walking straight. Every few steps Emily would change the vibration pattern and it would cause your knees to buckle. If you stopped to regain your balance, or to breathe through the pleasure, Emily would turn the vibrator off completely. Even though they were absolutely ruined, you were thankful for your lace panties. Otherwise, you’re not sure the toy would even still be inside you with how wet you were. 

Reaching the door, you fumbled with your keys, struggling to find the right one, and struggling further to get it in the slot to turn the lock. 

You heard Emily chuckling lowly behind you. 

Finally getting the door open, you rushed inside, throwing your stuff on the small table by the door and kicking your shoes off. 

Turning around as Emily shut the door behind her, you went to pull her towards you, but she put her hand up. 

“I meant it when I said I wanted dessert at home, love,” she said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the kitchen. 

You wanted to whine. You wanted to scream. You were so pent up you didn’t think you were going to be able to last another minute, let alone however long it took for Emily to eat whatever dessert she had in mind. 

You kept your mouth shut, figuring it was better to play along with her plan than to cause more issues for yourself later. 

Walking to the fridge, Emily pulled out a small cheesecake that you hadn’t known about. She grabbed plates and cutlery, serving you both small slices. Before you could start on yours, Emily’s hand went up again stopping you. “Uh uh, wait a second. Do me a favor and take your shirt off and open up a bottle of wine for mommy,” she smirked, licking her fork of the smooth dessert. 

You gulped, walking over to the wine fridge and pulling out a wine you knew went well with desserts. You pulled the glasses down, pouring a healthy amount into each. Before turning around, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse before sliding it off of your shoulders. You unhooked your bra and let that fall to the floor as well. Grabbing the wine glasses, you turned around, watching as Emily looked you up and down. 

You sauntered up to her, placing the glasses on the table. You waited until she looked up at you from her chair before you slowly unzipped your skirt, letting gravity take it to the ground. You watched as Emily’s hands flexed as if she wanted to reach out to you, but she managed to refrain. She licked her lips before looking back up at you. 

Pushing her legs together, you straddled her lap. As you sat down fully, you sharply inhaled as your laced covered cunt made contact with Emily’s dress pants. The urge to grind down, to feel the friction where you needed it most, overtook you. 

You got a few good rolls of your hips in before Emily’s hands shot out to your body, grabbing harshly at your waist. Even the bruising pressure of her fingers on your skin was turning you on further, a desperate mewl escaping your lips. 

“Such a desperate whore for me, hm? Couldn’t even wait until I finished my cheesecake.” 

You pulled your lip between your teeth, struggling in Emily’s grasp to move your hips. You were tired of playing her game, not even bothering to disagree with her. “I need to cum, please, Em,” you begged, your beautiful eyes trying their hardest to convince her. 

“Fine, if you want to be so needy, you can cum. But I’m not going to touch you.” 

Your eyes blew wide, watching as Emily pulled the remote back out of her pocket immediately pressing buttons to turn on one of the fastest, pulsating modes. 

Your hands shot out to her shoulders, your head falling back as a nearly obscene moan tumbled from your mouth. “Fuck.” Your hips started to move once more, the friction of the lace against your swollen clit hitting just right. 

“Go ahead, baby. Get yourself off on my lap.” Ignoring what she said moments earlier, unable to resist how tantalizing you looked, Emily’s hands started moving around your body, her fingers trailing over your sweat-slicked skin. They grabbed at your hips, forcing you down, making you grind faster before gripping your ass. She trailed them up, caressing the soft skin of your belly, trailing up to your heaving breasts, fondling your stiff peaks. Her hands never stayed in one spot long, as if she couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch you, as if she wished she had more than two hands. 

“Fuck, look at you. Riding me so well.” Emily brought her lips to your neck. “You look so pretty like this, flushed and needy and mine.” 

You couldn’t stop the moans from escaping. Each grind down - and back and forth - of your hips had your pussy clenching harder around the toy. With each movement of your body, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, if it was even possible. You could smell your arousal, so strong from hours of Emily teasing you.

The toy felt so good inside of you, each buzz and pulse sent tingles through your body and down your spine, each vibration igniting a fire deep within your belly. 

You could quickly feel yourself getting close, the constant edging doing most of the work for you. It likely wouldn’t be your best orgasm - you meant it when you said you’d rather have her fingers or her cock - but something, at this point, was better than nothing. 

“Come on, baby. Come all over my lap so I can take you upstairs and clean you up with my mouth.” 

The vision of Emily between your legs, thighs wrapped around her face, with her tongue licking at your drenched cunt was enough to send you over the edge, Emily’s name repetitively falling from your lips like a broken prayer. 

As you came down, Emily stroked your hair away from your face, peppering small kisses over any part of you that she could reach. She kept whispering affirmations, things you’d heard a thousand times, but would hear a million more. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve a love as grand as Emily Prentiss, but you weren’t going to question it. 

Pulling back from you, Emily looked at you with all the love in the world. “How does a bath sound?” 

You tilted your head a bit, raising your eyebrow at her. “What happened to you cleaning me up with your tongue?” 

Tapping your hip lightly, signaling for you to get up off of her lap, Emily snickered lightly. “You have until I get upstairs to be naked and on your hands and knees, pretty girl.” 

You kissed her lightly on the cheek, a mischievous grin on your face, before racing up the stairs. 

“Oh! And leave the toy in!” She called after you. 

She heard a faint moan - or was it a groan? - echo down the stairs, an almost evil smirk breaking out across her face. 

Looks like that orgasm was just the appetizer of the evening. 

[libra-kirishima]

Mystic Messenger Characters + Their Toxic Traits ✨

Feat. Zen, Yoosung, Jaehee, Jumin, Seven, and V

Short headcanons inspired by this post I've made about My Hero Academia characters and their toxic traits x

! fem reader, brief mentions of sex !

Zen

Insanely jealous. He's barely able to restrain himself from barking like a dog when he sees you talking to another man

- and he will come up to you mid-conversation and embarrass you in front of this man because Zen wants him to know who you belong to.

Has some mildly sexist views on women

- Speaks for you even if you're right next to him. Will order for you at restaurants without being asked. If someone asks you a question and Zen thinks he knows the answer he'll answer it for you as if you aren't capable of answering for yourself.

- Tends to believe that you're fragile and vulnerable and that he needs to protect you because you're a woman

- Will help you with chores but he believes it's your job to cook

- Doesn't ever let you take control during sex. He thinks that, as the man, he is supposed to be the one on top and in control. He's a pleasure dom but sex is always done his way because he never lets you take the lead.

Canonically homophobic

Lacks self awareness

Yoosung

King of putting things off. Ignores problems in the relationship for as long as he possibly can until one day it all comes to the surface and he bursts into tears

Avoids conflict to the point of concern. He'd rather lie to himself that everything is fine between the two of you than address an issue in your relationship because he doesn't want to start a fight.

Struggles to make time for you. A lot of your dates are hanging out together while he studies in his room or at the library.

Shamelessly codependent

Jaehee

Also terrible at making time for you

Always working. If she's not working under Jumin then she's always working on improving the coffee shop. She doesn't know how to function when she's not working 24/7 and under constant stress

She takes things so personally. She'll never tell you she took something you said personally but you can tell.

Lowkey a grudge holder. If you two get into an argument she'll bring up something you said to hurt her feelings two years ago.

Jumin

Wants to take care of you but "taking care of you" can mean doing things that are very controlling sometimes

- extremely resistant at first to the idea of you having a job or going to college since he can provide for both of you

- hates taking "no" for an answer if he thinks he knows better than you. If you're sick with a cold he'll go against your wishes and call a doctor no matter how many times you insist that you're fine.

- Never learned how to let someone else be in charge of something so he also never lets you take control during sex.

Resistant to change

Makes important decisions without you based on what he thinks you would want

Can come across as very apathetic at times. He thinks he's offering an objective point of view that will help soothe your emotions but instead it can feel like he doesn't care about them because you're being unreasonable.

707

Has gotten into the habit of lying about the dumbest shit, so it can be difficult to tell whether he's being serious or messing with you

Doesn't help with household chores because he doesn't find them mentally stimulating

Gets really bad depressive episodes. He doesn't want Saeran to see him like that so he bottles everything up until he can't anymore and will take all his emotions out on you sometimes.

Has never had to communicate how he feels before meeting you, so he never learned how. A lot of the time you're relying on your intuition because he doesn't talk to you about it. Part of him still believes nobody cares about how he's feeling.

V

Incredibly passive. Getting him to voice what he wants is like pulling teeth.

Codependent and in denial about it. Thinks he's just really in love with his wife.

Has a tendency to completely ignore how he's feeling because part of him is desperate to please you.

Tends to think in absolutes. Has a very black and white view on most things

Struggles to believe that he deserves you and that makes him crave validation, but he never wants to voice to you that he needs validation.

[oliversrarebooks]

Human Resistance: Inevitable

tw: brainwashing, mind control, drugging, captivity, dehumanization

Masterlist

Jesse was floating, floating for a long time in a state on the edge between sleep and wakefulness, warm and comfortable and safe. It was an agonizingly slow process that drew him back up towards full consciousness, thoughts and feelings returning to him.

He was hungry. That was his first thought. The resistance had been operating on meager rations for a while, constantly in danger of running out of food, and on top of that, he had no idea how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Even if all they had was canned beans and a bit of forage, he'd be happy to take it, just to quiet the constant nagging of his belly for a little while.

He was just about to sleepily roll out of his cot when he realized he wasn't in his cot at all.

Jesse flew the rest of the distance to alertness as he remembered where he was. He was in a comfortable, padded sort of chair, surrounded by smooth walls and a translucent window to the outside, just big enough to hold one person. He'd been captured, along with Zach, and brought aboard one of the colony ships.

No, it couldn't be. It had to be one of his frequent nightmares. But it was all too vivid and real, and as he instinctively brought his hand to his throat, he felt the thin band of metal, the alien collar marking him as one of theirs. Hand trembling, he followed the band around to the back of his neck, and he felt the spot where it fused into his spine briefly before pulling back in horror.

He'd been collared, controlled, never again to be free unless by some miracle he was rescued and underwent the same risky surgery that Zach had.

Maybe… maybe it was better…

No, they were trying to control his mind. They had to resist.

The pod's cover retracted, and to Jesse's surprise and relief, he was greeted by Zach. Zach miraculously wasn't wearing any collar, and he wasn't with any of the enemy, either. He'd gotten free, somehow, just like Jesse always knew he could.

"You came to rescue me," Jesse croaked out, his voice hoarse from deep sleep. "They collared me. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop them."

Zach frowned. "How are you feeling after that? Are you all right?"

"I feel like I've been drugged, like I can't be as terrified as I should be. It's hard to think. But what about you? They didn't collar you. You're free."

Zach held up his wrist, where a thin band of metal shimmered. "The scarring from my collar removal surgery is too severe. They've given me this temporary device. Our Superior had other obligations, so I'm going to take us where we need to go."

"Temporary collar?" Jesse's heart sank. Zach was under their control after all -- he'd been stupid to hope for different. But still… "If it's temporary, it can be removed, right?" Jesse glanced around to make sure none of the aliens were in the immediate vicinity. "And if you can remove it, that means you might be able to escape."

"Jesse." His face was sad and serious as he put a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "It's over."

"What? No, it's not over!" Jesse shrugged off the hand. "We can't just surrender like this. If they haven't given you a real collar yet, you could escape. You could get back and let the others know where we --"

"Get back to where?"

"To the resistance!"

"And do what?" Zach's eyes were hard. "There's hardly any of us left, Jesse, you know that. We have barely any food, much less weapons. We go back to the resistance and drag it out a few more weeks, just barely surviving, only to end up back here a third time?"

"You can't mean that."

"I'm sorry. I really am. But I've realized now that being a leader means knowing when it's over."

The worst part about what Zach was saying was that Jesse could hardly deny it. He'd thought the same. Jesse had heard the whispers growing louder. He'd been in the strategy meetings that went nowhere because they didn't have enough people or weapons or supplies to carry out a meaningful attack on any of the enemies' larger ships. Lately, they'd barely had enough to ambush the tiniest of transport crafts, save a handful of humans. And so many had simply given up and walked out into the enemy territory. Not to mention those who had taken an even more final way out.

"It can't be over." Jesse had never had a plan for his life. The resistance was the first thing that he'd really cared about, the first place where he'd felt like he'd belonged.

"There might be other groups of resistance fighters still out there. Maybe they'll succeed some day and free us all," said Zach. "But it won't be us. I'm sorry. It's over."

"I'm not just going to accept that. Not even from you." Jesse backed away from Zach, looking around to see if any of the enemy were paying attention. "If you won't even try to get out, then I will."

"You can't --"

As Zach began to march away, a shock came over his body, freezing him in place and dazing his mind. It was like being stunned with a taser, except that there was no pain, just disorientation. The drumbeat of comply - comply - comply rang in his head.

"You can't just leave. Not with one of their collars." Zach had his hands on Jesse's shoulders, guiding him back. "They can detect if you're doing something unauthorized."

"Oh, fuck this," said Jesse. He slammed his fist into one of the pods, not even making a dent. None of the aliens seemed to even notice. He hit it again, and again, and again, until his hand stung.

"Feel better?" asked Zach as Jesse stood there nursing his hand.

"No. What now?"

"We're supposed to report to the infirmary for a physical."

"I don't want some alien examining me," said Jesse half-heartedly, knowing that it didn't matter.

"C'mon."

Zach led them to the room's exit, and this time nothing stopped them. That collar had somehow detected the difference between Zach taking them where they were supposed to go and Jesse trying to escape, before he'd even left the room. He really was fucking screwed.

One of the aliens stopped them at the door, ran a tentacle across Jesse's collar and Zach's wristband, and opened the door. They emerged into a circular corridor with a narrow flat walkway at the bottom. Jesse couldn't help but flinch when an alien rounded the corner. It was reflex after so many years of training to avoid them. And now, he was in the heart of a colony ship, surrounded by the enemy for good.

"Infirmary's right next to the training area."

"How do you know that?"

"All of the pet stations are laid out about the same."

Sure enough, the next set of double glass doors opened for Zach, and they entered a sterile, clinical sort of area. There were a few humans in examination chairs being attended to by aliens, and a few others on tables. At least one looked like they were actually getting some kind of surgery, just out in the open in the clinic.

Before Jesse could balk, he and Zach were each picked up by aliens and deposited in chairs side-by-side. A sensor was attached to Jesse's collar, and the alien was looking back and forth between Jesse and a sort of tablet it was holding. Jesse could only assume that some kind of medical information was being sent to the tablet.

Without warning, one of the tentacles jabbed him in the elbow, releasing another dose of the thing's venom. Jesse relaxed as that sedated feel stole over him again, his cares fading. When the alien next picked up his hands to examine them, he didn't resist -- even though he still knew that his docility was induced by the conditioning, the collar, and the drugs, it didn't help him fight against it.

The aliens clearly didn't care about human pets' privacy, because Jesse could see and hear Zach's physical. An alien was carefully examining his knee. This is overdue for maintenance. How is your locomotion?

"A little stiff and painful, but nothing like it was before my knee was replaced," said Zach.

Your Superior will be contacted to arrange for your maintenance.

"All right."

You will also need your spinal cord repaired where your collar was located. There may also be neurological damage from abruptly stopping your medications.

"I'm aware, yeah."

You and the new pet are both suffering from poor nutrition and sleep deprivation. You require nutrients.

Jesse turned his head to see an alien approaching with a syringe that was way too large for comfort, and even through his sedation he felt his fear rise. "Wait, what is that?"

Nutrition. With no further explanation, the needle was plunged into Jesse's arm, and all he could do was turn away. Zach was having the same thing done to him.

You will receive food. You will attend to hygiene. Once these are complete, you will return to your Superior's chamber and sleep in your pod for a minimum of three-quarters of a cycle. The old pet will guide the new.

"Yeah, all right," said Zach easily.

"Are those orders?" Jesse was trying to fight the drugs in his system, trying to get back some of his fire.

Yes. Those are orders.

Once again, the compulsion to comply and be obedient that the conditioning had drilled into his head kicked in, washing out his thoughts of resistance, at least until the alien started to tug his t-shirt over his head.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

Uniform.

The tentacles moved much faster than Jesse could dodge while slowed down by sedatives, and in a flash it had undressed him and put him in a soft, dark blue garment that was like a cross between a jumpsuit and pajamas. "What are you doing with my clothes?"

They will be delivered to your Superior's chamber. And with that, Jesse's favorite t-shirt was whisked away out of sight.

Your examination is complete. Your health information will be given to your Superior. Your medications will also be given to your Superior. You will now follow your prescribed orders.

"What, don't I get to see my own health info?"

It will be sent to your Superior.

Of course. He shouldn't be surprised. He didn't protest when Zach took his arm and led him out of the infirmary.

"Are you okay?" asked Zach once they'd exited back out into the corridor. He was wearing a uniform identical to Jesse's except in size.

"Other than feeling like an animal sent to the vet, yeah, I guess I'm okay," he said. "Are you?"

"Yeah, that was pretty routine. They're going to send me for maintenance on my knee," said Zach. "Only the doctors at the resistance base knew about this, but the aliens replaced my knee with one of their artificial joints."

"You let them replace your knee?"

Zach chuckled. "Do you really think they asked me?"

"Guess not."

"It was a big improvement, to be honest, even though it needs maintenance. It was starting to get stiff during my time at the base. I guess… well, whatever," said Zach. "They're making us get food, baths, and sleep, and I'm not in the mood to object, are you?"

Jesse was starving by now, and completely wiped from the dangerous mission earlier in the day and the stress of the capture, so that itinerary sounded just fine to him. Not that it would matter even if he were in the mood to object. Zach himself had driven home how pointless it'd be. "No, I'm not," he said. "What's the food like? Gross alien shit? Didn't you say it was replicated?"

Zach had been leading them through a few snaking corridors as they talked, barely paying attention to where he was going. He looked just as confident and at home as he ever had in the base. He was completely used to this, Jesse realized. At ease. At home. As though he'd never even left.

"Yeah, it's replicated," Zach replied. "They can make basically anything you can think of. The texture's way off, but it tastes right. No, I don't know how it works."

"It's probably drugged up, right? Or poisoned."

"If they want to drug us, they just do it. I don't think they put it in the food, but it wouldn't make much of a difference if they did."

They entered the cafeteria, where a lot of people in multi-colored uniforms were eating and chatting. While many of them were dressed in just a plain uniform, a lot of them had embellishments like sparkling hair decorations and flashy jewelry. They were laughing and talking freely, and Jesse hated that they all looked so happy.

Zach approached a row of purple machines on the far wall, picking up a tray and placing it in a window in one of the machines. "This interfaces with your collar. All you have to do is decide what you want to eat, visualize it in your mind, and it'll replicate that for you."

That sounded too good to be true, but Jesse was starving enough to give it a shot. Food had been tight for a long time in the resistance camp. At first there was lots of food to scavenge from populated areas, and the rural areas didn't have much alien surveillance, so they also had access to farms, hunting, and fishing. But the aliens took more and more territory, installing surveillance and flying drones even in remote areas, shrinking what was available to the resistance. The resources that were easy to access had dwindled, especially since they had to move every time one of the encampments was detected.

Jesse didn't miss his old job, but he did miss food from before the invasion. It'd been so long since he'd been able to do something as simple as share a pizza with friends.

"Pepperoni pizza and a coke," he said, trying to imagine how it looked and tasted. The machine whirred and deposited his meal on the tray. The cup of cola looked normal, but the pizza slices looked more like a plastic model of pizza than the real thing. "You're sure this is edible, Zach?"

"Edible enough." Zach had summoned a huge plate of tacos, which had the same toy-like quality. "Try it and find out."

They sat down at an unoccupied table, and Jesse experimentally lifted the slice of "pizza" to his nose. It was warm, and it did smell right. His stomach growled in protest. Across from him, Zach began wolfing down tacos like there was no tomorrow.

He finally took a bite. Zach had been right, the texture was off, a little too spongy to be pizza. But it tasted good, and soon Jesse was shoveling his food down too. God, he'd missed this. He'd missed having enough food to eat at all. It was almost enough to make him forget the strangeness of eating lunch in a colony ship.

By the time he'd finished, Jesse's misgivings about the food had quieted, and he went back to the machine for more pizza and some wings. When he got back to the table, there was a young woman in an orange uniform sitting next to Zach, her thick ponytail bobbing as she talked. Jesse realized who she was -- Nina, one of the runners for the human resistance, who'd disappeared on a mission around two months ago.

"Jesse, hey! Good to see you!" she said as cheerful as anything.

"Is it good to see me? I've been captured."

She shrugged as though it weren't a big deal. He guessed it wasn't to her. If she'd been here for a couple of months, she'd probably already been fully conditioned and turned to their side.

"We just got here earlier today," said Zach. "It's going to take some time for Jesse to adjust."

Jesse noticed that he didn't include himself in that statement. "I'm in no hurry to adjust."

Nina brushed it off. "I understand it better now, what you were going through, Zach. I can't imagine being pulled out of here. It must've been hard."

He shot a glance at Jesse before answering. "Yeah, it was. But I'm back now."

"So you defected?"

"No," he said tersely.

"Really? I did."

"You defected?" said Jesse.

"Well, yeah. Things were hell, and it's not like we really had a chance."

Jesse stood up, pushing his tray away. "We were doing our fucking best! We all thought you had been caught, not that you'd willingly thrown yourself away! You were one of the last decent runners in the place, and you just -- you just -- " He wobbled, dizzy from the drugs he'd been given earlier, his thoughts scattering. Maybe it was the collar, too, keeping him in line.

Zach stood up and pushed Jesse back down into his seat. "Calm down, Jesse. She's been conditioned, you know that."

"How does that make it better? They're going to do the same thing to us, aren't they? Or I guess they've already done it to you. Am I the only one left who think humanity deserved a better future?"

The cafeteria was silent around him, all eyes on Jesse, He could feel the eyes of the alien supervisors on him, no doubt just waiting to drug him and drag him off if he stepped too far out of line. But none of that really mattered, because the look on Zach's face was heartbreaking.

"C'mon, Zach. Don't you think we all deserved better?"

"I think that we don't always get what we deserve."

Jesse felt like he could cry. "Am I the only one left who believes the resistance has a chance?"

The silence was deafening. Jesse sat down again, defeated.

"Sorry," said Nina. "I know we were doing our best. I didn't mean to say…"

"Whatever. I don't care what you think," said Jesse. "I'm sure the magical brainwashing boxes will convince me that defecting is a-okay, and then we can be the best of friends."

"I think I'm going to go," she said, standing up. "Sorry I upset you. I'm glad I got to see you two again." Nina picked up her tray and practically ran to a different table.

"Are you okay with that?" asked Jesse.

"Okay with what?"

"She just admitted to defecting. She was a traitor."

"What would you like me to do, Jesse, scold her? Get her arrested? I'm not a leader of anything anymore, and the aliens certainly aren't going to punish her for doing what they want."

Jesse knew he was right, but it still stung. If less people had given up and defected, maybe they still would've had a chance. But it wasn't like they could compete with infinite free food.

Or maybe Jesse had just been a shit leader.

Maybe if Zach had never gotten captured, it wouldn't have turned out this way. Sometimes he couldn't help being angry at Zach for that, even if it wasn't his fault.

"We did deserve better," Zach said. "You're not wrong about that. You deserved better, a better leader than me."

"Don't say that. You're a great leader. None of this was your fault."

"It was my fault you got captured."

"I chose to go on the mission with you. It's not like I don't do dangerous missions all the time," said Jesse. "And without you as leader… I didn't know what I was doing. That's when everything started going downhill. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

"It's definitely not your fault. Don't even say that." Zach sighed. "Maybe this was all just inevitable. Maybe most of us are better off this way."

"You don't mean that. That's what the aliens are putting in your head."

Zach didn't look especially convinced. "Sure."

Jesse's heart sank, his appetite lost, and for the first time since they'd been captured, he wondered if it really might be the end of the line. He saw what the alien conditioning did to Zach the first time, what it was doing to him even now. They'd do the same to him. He could already feel it starting, the all too tempting urge to just accept life as a pet on a colony ship. It had to be so much stronger for Zach.

Who would be left to rescue them? To rehabilitate them, the way Zach had been? Who would have the time, the resources, the skills? And then what?

"Hey, Jesse," said Zach. "If you're done eating, we're supposed to be hitting the showers. We could both use it."

Jesse's ravenous appetite from earlier was gone. "Yeah, I'm done. Let's go."

They passed a kind of gymnasium on the way to the showers, the big round windows revealing people jogging and playing basketball. It looked bizarrely normal. "How the hell is there a basketball court on the colony ship?" asked Jesse.

"They copied a lot of human things. They were probably studying us before the invasion, too. There's a lot of random things on the ship like the basketball courts that they built to try to keep people happy: swimming pools, parks, theaters, things like that."

Jesse tried not to be happy about that. It wasn't a fair tradeoff for freedom. He had to stay on his guard and not let himself think of this as a home, or think of the aliens as benevolent. They were the enemy.

"Here we are." The double doors to the bathing area opened and Jesse wasn't quite prepared for it. The showers were all out in the open, surrounding a large bathing pool. People of every gender were lounging around stark naked with zero privacy. Jesse didn't think of himself as a prude, but he felt a little self-conscious about it.

"The aliens don't really have a concept of personal privacy," said Zach, noticing his discomfort. "It's something you get used to."

"Right," said Jesse. It wasn't like he hadn't been in locker rooms before. This just felt different somehow.

Zach walked over to a set of cubbies and pulled his uniform off. "Oh, I should warn you that the soap's a little drugged."

Jesse groaned. "Good to know." He tried not to look at Zach or anyone else as he took off his uniform and stood under one of the showers. There were bottles in various bright colors -- probably the soap. He would've loved to properly wash off the day's sweat, but he'd have to do with washing in just water. At least the shower was hot, with good pressure, and as he stood under the spray, he couldn't help but relax.

At least, he could relax until he looked over and saw Zach lathering up with some neon green chemical.

"What the hell, Zach? You just told me the soap was drugged."

Zach shrugged. "We're going to go to bed after this. It doesn't really matter. What's your plan, never use soap the rest of your life?"

Jesse wanted to retort that he wasn't going to be here the rest of his life, but the words stuck in his throat. "Whatever. I guess you're right. It doesn't matter."

The provided towels were enormous and soft, and Zach looked considerably more relaxed as they toweled off -- which made sense considering he'd just voluntarily doused himself in drugged alien goop. Jesse tried to push down the uneasy sense of betrayal, to see Zach treat it so casually after he'd survived all those nightmarish drug withdrawals. All that work was gone in less than a day, and Zach didn't even seem to care.

The uniforms in the cubbies were freshly washed and warm, and Jesse was pretty sure that his wasn't the same one he had been wearing earlier.

"Last stop, home -- I mean, we're going to our Superior's home to sleep," said Zach.

Jesse wasn't sure why Zach thought that correction made it better. He'd certainly noticed Zach becoming more and more comfortable with situation as the day wore on, and now he was leading Jesse through the corridors with an easy gait. Like they weren't prisoners. Like he really did think of this place as home.

Either they'd reactivated all of his old conditioning with terrifying speed, or it had never really left Zach, and neither option was comforting.

"Our Superior lives in a restricted area of the ship. We'll get a fast transport there."

"Do you have to call him 'our Superior'?"

Zach looked startled, as if he hadn't realized he was doing that. "…It's shorter than 'the alien who kept me as a pet.'"

"I guess it is."

The transport station was a bustling area full of aliens, humans, and cargo. Here was a small train filling up with people, there was a platform the size of a semi-truck being loaded with containers, over there was a little round capsule with a single alien in it zipping away.

An alien stopped them before they could approach the platform. "Location?"

Zach rattled off some designation. The alien consulted a device and waved him through. "Wait on platform G for transport 78."

Jesse glanced around half-heartedly. With all of the commotion, there was probably a way for him to escape if he were clever and fast enough. But he was feeling neither clever nor fast. Despite avoiding the drugged soap, he'd felt increasingly slow since the meal in the cafeteria, and the prospect of escape was less appealing. He'd probably been drugged after all, or else it was the collar influencing him.

A little car with just enough room for the two of them approached the platform, and at a loss for what else to do, Jesse followed Zach into it. It pulled away and immediately plunged into a tunnel that was dark except for a strip of dim light along the top. Even though the ride was smooth, Jesse couldn't help the feeling that he was on a roller coaster.

That wasn't the only reason his stomach was churning. It was sinking in that they were headed to the alien who had decided to keep them both as pets, the one who would easily dull their minds and blunt their desire for freedom. They'd be drugged and conditioned until their minds gave in, and Zach would be reduced to the state he was in when he'd been rescued, fighting the medics and calling out for the enemy. And this time, Jesse would be right there with him.

"It'll be nice to get a good night's sleep," said Zach, apparently not sharing Jesse's fears.

"I can't say I'm so keen to sleep among the enemy."

"It's not like we have a choice." Zach wasn't wrong, but his words felt hollow when he'd been so clearly content with going "home." "Our… the aliens' place isn't so bad. There's a big window on the ceiling where you can watch the sky."

"Aren't you worried, Zach? Worried that if we go there, we're never going to get out again?"

The pause before Zach's answer spoke volumes. "Maybe I didn't expect to get out in the first place."

Jesse didn't know what to say after that. The tunnels where they traveled were warm and dark, and despite all of his fear, Jesse felt his eyelids droop with sleep. He was so tired so suddenly, and maybe it was because he'd had such a long day filled with stress and terror. It was hard to believe that just this morning he'd been at the resistance base, preparing for his mission to scavenge food from a mall. As Jesse fought to keep himself awake, Zach let out a huge yawn, and Jesse couldn't keep from imitating it.

"You're tired, too?" said Jesse.

"Collar's kicking in. We're supposed to go to sleep soon, so it signals your brain to produce more melatonin, stuff like that. At least that's how it was explained to me."

"Great." It was great to know that the aliens could just knock him the fuck out whenever they pleased. He wasn't especially surprised -- he half expected the thing could shock him if he stepped out of line. Even that thought couldn't stop his eyes from wanting to shut.

The car came to a stop at a different platform, one which had far more aliens than humans. Before they could even get out, an alien rushed over to them and plucked them up.

"It's an escort," said Zach. "Our Superior is the captain, so he lives near the ship's bridge, which is highly restricted. Humans like us aren't allowed to go around freely without an escort."

"So we're prisoners."

"Well, we were captured."

"We were captured," Jesse echoed, still far too sleepy given the situation he was in. If only he could fight that collar, stop it from worming its way into his brain.

After winding their way down several identical-looking corridors, Zach and Jesse were deposited in front of a large round door. Their escort slid back, but stayed there to watch as Zach pressed his hand to a panel and the door slid open.

With only brief hesitation, Jesse followed Zach into a cabin about the size of a large studio apartment. The walls were all lined with shelves and the shelves were all covered with unidentifiable, colorful objects, a collection of some kind. Netting hung from the ceiling in several places -- the aliens apparently liked to use netting as a sort of hammock, wrapping their tentacles around the ropes. In one corner of the room was a pod similar to the one he'd been forced into for collaring. It was noticeably larger, and there was a rack with a few bins next to it. An alien -- their new owner, presumably, although Jesse couldn't hope to tell any of them apart -- was sitting in a net, screens hovering in front of its face, looking as if it were doing work. Everything was bathed in the orange glow of a setting sun, coming from the big round skylight.

But the thing that caught Jesse's attention most of all was the smile and look of sheer relief on Zach's face.

He had truly missed this. He was happy to be back.

And that meant Jesse was completely doomed.

You are home. The alien picked up Zach in its tentacles and pulled him close, Zach offering no resistance.

"Hey --" said Jesse, wondering if he should do something. He was far too slow to dodge as another tentacle reached out and grabbed him by the waist, more tentacles supporting his weight as he was drawn closer to the alien and Zach.

You have done well to guide your companion.

"Thank you," said Zach.

Now it is time for both of you to sleep. The alien ruffled a tentacle through Jesse's hair with what seemed to be affection. Jesse wanted to flinch away, but drowsiness was stealing over him again. Next to him, Zach was leaning into it, allowing himself to be pet like a prized cat.

There is a larger sleep pod now to accommodate two pets.

Jesse looked over at the pod in the corner and realized that he was meant to sleep there next to Zach. He glanced over at Zach, far too comfortable in the alien's arms, and saw no particular reaction. He'd probably been expecting this. The aliens really didn't have a notion of privacy for humans.

The alien set them both down on their feet and pushed them gently towards the pod. Zach walked over without hesitation, looking in one of the bins next to it. "All of my things are still here."

Your return was inevitable.

Jesse shuddered. Zach's old owner had just been waiting for him. Waiting for the human resistance to further falter, waiting for Zach to be once again captured. He had all of the time and advantages on his side.

Zach climbed into the pod, an expression of sheer contentment washing over him as he flopped backwards onto the cushions. It was if all the cares and worries of being their leader were wiped away and he could finally relax.

That was it, wasn't it? That was why Zach's return here had been inevitable. The fate of the human race in the face of impossible odds was far too much for one man. They'd thrust him into the role, trusting him, asking him to make the hardest decisions, plastering his face on posters and propaganda, and he'd gone along with it all, because how could he possibly refuse to try and save humanity? Zach cared too much, and he hurt too much, and Jesse hadn't really understood until Zach was gone and he was forced to try to fill his shoes. Even then, all he did was wonder what Zach would have done.

"C'mon, Jesse," said Zach. "We need our sleep. It's comfortable."

He didn't want to go in the pod. Some part of him felt that if he went into the pod and experienced the relaxation Zach was experiencing, he'd never come out as himself again, the point of no return. They'd both be mindless, adoring pets of an alien ship captain, lounging around eating replicated food while the last of humanity fell.

One of the alien's eyes bloomed before him, and he didn't look away in time. His mind gave in too eagerly, ready to be rid of all of those anxious thoughts.

You will be an obedient little thing.

"I… I will be obedient…"

It's time to sleep. Rest in the sleep pod next to your companion.

His shoulders slumped, his head pitching forward with exhaustion. "It's time to sleep…"

That is correct. You are docile. You will obey.

"I am docile. I will obey."

The hypnotic eye left his line of sight, leaving Jesse swaying in its trance, sleepwalking towards the pod. Zach's eyes were closed and his breathing even, already asleep in minutes. Jesse climbed in beside him and sank into the cushioning. It was so satisfying, like resting on a cloud.

Go to sleep, little one. The cover sealed over the sleep pod, and they were plunged into darkness for a minute before soft, pulsating lights filled the small chamber. They were mesmerizing to look at as they swirled and twinkled, and Jesse found his eyelids lowering, impossible to stay awake. A sound like soft rains was playing, and he could hear undertones of alien language underneath it.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to obey.

They were brainwashing him in his sleep.

He just barely managed to muster up some alarm, lifting his heavy arm to nudge Zach. "Zach. Zach, wake up."

"…What…?"

"They're using the sleep pods to condition us. Don't you hear it?"

"Mmm, yeah, our Superior picks the sleep program for us each night. Don't worry about it."

"Don't… worry…" Jesse wanted to do something, to fight against the influence, but not as badly as he wanted to sleep. He was so warm and drowsy and all he wanted to do was close his tired eyes.

He felt himself start to drift, unable to resist, and then he was asleep.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading my whumpy daydreams! I hope you enjoyed reading about Jesse's last day of freedom.

[artbyblastweave]

I've seen your capeshit posts thinking about The Boys, Worm, Invincible, the Big Two and their media landscape, etc. and I've enjoyed them a lot. You've got a good understanding of the creative and fandom forces surrounding the superhero genre. The one burning question that has sat at the back of my mind since I read Worm back in 2018, which I think you might have an interesting answer to, is simply this: IS an adaptation of that serial possible? Like in any practical sense? And would a mass-market Worm adaptation, however compromised by the adaptation process, have a positive or even significant at all impact on the genre going forward, and the way it's perceived both by hardcore fans and the average consumer?

People (including Wildbow himself at one point) have bounced around ideas for how you'd execute a tv adaptation of Worm, so I certainly don't think it's conceptually impossible. It would definitely be hard, because you'd be kneecapped by the absurdly short runtimes of modern tv seasons and the long turnaround time between seasons. Worm also has a wealth of detail and scene staging complexity that would be really hard to reproduce in a visual medium where someone has to either dress up as or animate all those bastards. And as the third kick in the teeth, I've mentioned before that there are ways in which I think Worm is in conversation with the superhero genre and fandom as it existed in 2011- the MCU cape boom has really heavily altered the space. Reference how The Boys (comic) was really specifically swinging a bat at the post-crisis comic book fandom, but the much tighter and more critically successful and broadly appealing Tv show is swinging at the MCU and DCEU.

But something I think Worm still has going for it over basically every other cape thing is its status as a worldbuilding project. Even if you don't understand every single comics element that it's riffing on, it's a story that, despite having a single definitive protagonist, does a really good job of having the setting be a character in the world and not just a bare-bones launchpad for that single protagonist. If the adaptation could really strongly integrate the setting-specific ways in which there have been, like, procedural reactions to the existence of capes, cultural reactions- really capture the sense of accumulating entropy that characterizes the tone of the setting, the sense of everyone being caught up in dynamics too big for any individual to control, the sense that all of this is in some way adding up- it would be doing something that's really just really not currently covered by any cape adaptation that's gotten big. And tonally, this would pan out (in fact does pan out) as something unique as well, because the fact that there's this entire setting out there constantly disintegrating under its own weight juxtaposes really well with how Taylor is constantly fighting like a maniac to sandbag her own little corner of purgatory. I really can't think of another superhero work that strikes that balance! And it's a balance you can't strike unless you're able to convincingly render that disintegrating world.