#but you can't like. logic your way out of The Brain Illness

[musical-chick-13]

NO, AND I'M STARTING TO GET THE CREATIVITY SHAME™ AGAIN, THIS SUCKS.

[malleleothreesome]

Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

[sangwookisser]

⭒AFTER HOURS- HWANG JUN-HO⭒

cw: switch dynamics, fighting, choking, piv, fem! reader, guard! reader, this is a bit non canon as junho already got his square mask before confronting you, creampies, praise, choking, not beta'd

a/n: thanos pt. 2 in the works cuties send me asks on what you'd like to see him do to you!

You screwed up today.

You'd worked here so long that every time you'd shot a player, or moved a body, or ordered a circle mask to clean up the area after a game, it felt unconscious, like a menial chore. Perhaps you'd gotten too careless and forgotten your place, because you'd frozen on the spot when a player, a woman, young and pleading and desperate, had crawled against your leg and pleaded with you to let her live after she'd cracked a side on her star Dalgona.

You froze.

A careless mistake. She'd taken your hesitation as an opportunity to grab your rifle and wrench it from your hands, trying to shoot you in the head and missing, before she managed to hit a soldier in the arm that'd been rushing over to pry the weapon from her hands. The entire playground was a mess now, with yells of terror and people cracking their Dalgona due to stress, all because of you.

Now you were following a very tall, quiet square guard to a private room, only meant for very important matters. no cameras are placed in here. He locks the door behind you and turned to face you. You hung your head, fighting the urge to wring your hands.

"Look at me."

You look up at the sound of a deep, distorted voice, placing your hands behind your back so you could hide the way they're shaking. He doesn't move, watching you through the thick black plastic of his mask, assessing you.

"Explain."

You inhale shakily, unable to hide your nervousness. You knew that you wouldn't have been brought here if you weren't about to receive a terrible punishment. There was no one watching, and the games were long over for the day. You pause for a moment, trying to find your voice, but he speaks again.

"Do you forget yourself, soldier? You answer promptly when asked to. The longer you try to wrack your brain to find a reason why you fucked up today, the less ill believe your stupid excuses."

You bristle at the condescending tone of his voice. You don't like being spoken to in such a way, even if its by a superior. Still, you can't come up with a good reason as to why you froze. Perhaps you'd seen a glimmer of yourself in the way the woman pleaded and searched for mercy.

You were weak and vulnerable once too. She'd cracked a part of the walls you'd built up around yourself to try and make killing players easier. "I'm just trying to collect myself, sir." You say, your tone a little too sharp for his liking.

"Collect yourself?" Jun-ho says in return. "I'm not playing games with you, soldier."

"And neither am I," You snap back, frustrated and scared enough to act with your emotions and not logically. You're not thinking about the repercussions of talking back to a superior. "I made one mistake in the five years I've been here, and you're just attacking m-"

"Take off your mask."

The order sent a chill down your spine. You weren't ever supposed to show your face around here, not even to your superiors. It usually meant you were about to take a bullet to the head.

You look around anxiously to try and spot any cameras, but most of them are turned off for this location since it is meant to be vacant right now. You step back and finally speak.

"S-sir, I can't. It's against policy."

"Don't give me any more bullshit. Take off your mask. that's an order." You grit your teeth but don't budge, refusing to go along with the inevitable that happens when you show your face. He growls and raises his hand, his pistol at your head in a second. "Now, triangle."

You let out a shaky exhale and reluctantly peel off your mask, letting it drop to the floor, along with the balaclava underneath.

There's a tense moment of silence as he looks you over, and he nearly groans in appreciation of how cute you are. Jun-ho expected an old hag with nothing to lose, not... you.

His eyes roam over the wide, sparkly eyes staring up at him and the soft frown on your face, as well as the way your lashes skim your cheekbones when you blink, your soft, pretty hair, your full lips...

You take his hesitation as an opportunity and knock the gun out of his hands, shoving him back and debating on running or staying to fight him.

He lunges to grab you, and you aim a kick to his chest to try and steer him off course again, but he grabs your ankle and kicks the back of your other leg to make you crumple. You curse, reeling back a bit as you stand straight again, punching his stomach to make him let go of you.

He grunts, but doesn't relent, so you aim a few more punches to his chest and stomach, but he grabs your arm and twists it, letting go of your leg and shoving you against the wall of the room, pressing your chest against the wall. You scowl, struggling fervently, but its hard to when he's a head taller and has the strength of a gorilla.

He pauses for a bit, smug at how easy it was to beat you when you had the advantage of disorienting him by making the first move.

"There, was that so hard? You're making me feel like a monster. Pretty girls like you deserve to be worshipped, not roughhoused like this." You growl at the implication, aching to demand what exactly he means, but you figured that if you play into the act a little bit, you might be able to get your advantage back.

You sniffle, making the slightly-exaggerated sounds of someone about to cry. "I-I know sir," You choke out, your voice breaking. "I... I d-didn't mean for it to come to this, I just... d-don't wanna b-be punished or killed for one mistake, I didn't mean to hesitate today, really. P-please don't kill me..." You make the soft sounds of crying, trying to imitate the feeling of desperation and hopelessness.

His heart aches uncomfortably, and he feels your little body shaking with tears. He feels bad now. He just meant to scare you a bit so he could get information about this place, but you attacked him, so he had to do this to you. But it feels wrong. He can imagine your sweet little face scrunched up and flushed with tears, and he sighs, turning you around slowly so he can help wipe your face and soothe you.

You don't wait a second, delighted that your plan worked to some degree, enough that he was willing to let go of you long enough for you to drive your knee straight into his crotch.

"Fuck!" he curses, doubling over. "Shit, you fucking maniac!" You get the rifle off your back that all triangles are equipped with, astounded that he didn't disarm you at the first opportunity, and you shove the barrel under his chin.

"On your knees, square." You sneer at him, and he grits his teeth, dropping down to his knees with his hands raised.

"You're fucking crazy." He says angrily, panting as he massages his aching privates, his gaze roaming over your pretty face, and he scoffs, in disbelief that he, a trained cop, ended up in this situation.

"Now you take off your mask too. So we're in this together." You say coldly, nudging the gun at his neck. He freezes for a bit. He didn't know what you'd do if you found out he was a stowaway posing as a guard, and so he hesitated, but with a gun to his face, what more could he do?

Slowly, he took off his mask, letting the black plastic clatter to the floor as he pushed thick black hair out of his eyes, eying you warily.

You too, as he did, paused for a minute at the sight of his face. You didn't expect your manager to be so handsome. His features were soft and handsome, like some pretty boy you'd see on TV, not at your feet with your rifle to his head.

"Who are-"

He took a dive for your legs, realizing he couldn't go through the process of revealing everything to you. Even showing you his face was going too far. You squealed, tumbling to the ground, and he stuck his hand under your head so you wouldn't crack it open under the concrete, and he quickly straddled you, putting one hand around your throat and moving the other to hold your hands together above your head.

"The hell's your problem, huh?" He sneered, holding you down without much struggle even as you thrashed under him. "You don't listen. If you just shut up and answered a few questions, you'd be out of here in no time."

You choke, panting a bit, and he squeezes your neck a little tighter, fascinated at the way your cheeks warm and your eyes darken. His cock twitches a bit in his pants, excited by the way you look so helpless. The way you're squirming under him and rubbing your body unintentionally against his dick isn't helping. It's already tender from you hitting it with your knee earlier, and his hypersensitivity is just riling him up more and more.

"Shit..." He murmurs, loosening his grip just enough for you to get a big gulp of air, before he puts the same pressure on your neck once more.

"I'm not afraid of you," you hissed, despite the nervous flutters in your stomach. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours.

"I don't care. You put yourself in this situation, and now look where you are." He mocks you, no longer caring about your feelings after your earlier deception. Your lips press together in a scowl.

You let out an infuriated growl, trying to shift your body up to attack him, maybe bite him, but he slams you back down with his grip around your neck. Your vision sparkles around the corners, and you pant, gasping weakly for air, and he lets go just before you pass out.

"Let... me go." You wheeze, inhaling unsteadily. He leans closer, about to say more, when you shove your lips against his. It's not a good tactic, and you hate doing it, but it's a last resort, and you needed to wind him so you could get your upper hand back.

To your disbelief, he moans, his grip on you loosening so he can lean down and kiss you deeply. He's pleasantly surprised, to say the least.

You're gorgeous, of course, and with the soft taste of strawberries that linger on your mouth, he's not complaining at all. He squeezes your face in his hands, rubbing his tongue over your lips to try and coax your mouth to open. You grit your teeth, annoyed by how enjoyable this is.

His lips are soft, and he's good at kissing. You enjoy the way he parts his lips and slots his mouth over yours to search for the best angle. However, you try to stay present enough to try and find the right moment to throw him off you. He, however, was lost. He's managed to get his tongue in your mouth, and he groans at your taste, one hand going to stroke your hair softly as he rolls his tongue over yours slowly and sloppily, almost savoring the feeling.

You grunt, squirming a bit as his long tongue pushes deeper in your mouth. He's getting way too excited for someone who was just trying to suffocate you, and you start to worry that you made a mistake by riling him up like this.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel something hard and thick poke your thighs, and he lets out a full-blown moan into your mouth, his hips beginning to rut against you. You've had enough. With as much effort you can muster, you bite his lip hard enough for it to be uncomfortable, and he lets out a yelp, smoothing his tongue over his now bleeding lip.

You desperately try to push him off you. His eyes are wide and shiny, like a puppy aching for a treat, and he pants a bit, before frowning. "I want more," He says gruffly, upset at your denial. He leans down, wanting to kiss you again, but you hook your legs around him and flip him over, using the element of surprise to your advantage.

He tries his best to try and buck you off, but once you get his hands pinned beside his head, he stops struggling, staring up at you with wide, glassy eyes, his breath coming out in tiny gasps.

"W-wha..." He starts weakly, but you tug his hair to shut him up. He doesn't oblige, moaning at the feeling and returning to humping you, his hips thrusting up against your ass as you straddle him.

"Stop it," You hiss angrily. "Acting like a fucking dog, have some shame."

He doesn't listen, his hands clenching into fists as he aches with the need to touch.

"F-fuck me..." he breathes out, and you try to put your hand over his mouth to shut him up, but you can still hear his loud groans as he ruts against you, dry humping you through his pants. "Fuck me, please." He insists. You squeeze his wrists with frustration, pissed off by his excessive neediness, but you start to lift his shirt, your hair tickling his cheek as you lean down. You pull it above his head, reveling in the sight of his soft, creamy white skin, and plush pink nipples.

He shivers as the cool air of the room hits his skin, and you slowly start to drag your fingers up his chest.

Unfortunately for you, that, paired with the constant feeling of his clothed cock rubbing against the juicy fat of your ass causes him to still, and he tears his hands out of your grip with little to no effort, places them on your butt, and rubs you fervently against his dick until his hips stutter, and he squeezes you tight.

"Oh G-god... mmh, fuck, fuck... fuck... 'm cumming, im cumming now..."

You can feel him throbbing against you as the sticky liquid of his cum stains his pants. You look down at him as he slumps down, keening loudly as he tries to catch his breath. his chest heaves hard.

You look down at him in shock, scowling down at him. "You dirty little..."

He doesn't let you finish your words, flipping you over.

Panting harshly, he loomed over you, his eyes wild with desperate, primal hunger. His large hands roamed feverishly over your curves, grasping and squeezing at the fabric of your guard uniform as if trying to rip them away from your body. "Please, baby... I need... I need to feel you... all of you..." he babbled, his voice ragged with urgency.

Fumbling fingers made quick work of the zippers, scattering them haphazardly across the floor. Jun-ho's breathing grew louder, more labored, as more and more of the your soft, supple skin was revealed to his ravenous gaze. "Please... let me... let me see you... touch you... taste you..." he begged, his words spilling out in a whining, desperate litany.

Hie hips undulated, grinding his clothed erection against the your core, seeking some measure of relief from the throbbing ache that consumed him. "I'm so fucking... so fucking desperate for you..." he whined, his hands finally succeeding in baring your breasts to his hungry eyes.

"My god... look at you... so fucking perfect..." Jun-ho dipped his head, peppering your newly exposed skin with desperate, open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips. You moan, squirming under him at the unfamiliar yet desirable sensation. He's worshipping you, obsessing over your body

"Tell me... tell me you want it too..." he urged breathlessly between kisses, his hands roaming lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, your panties. "Tell me you need my cock...almost as much as I need to be inside your tight, wet little cunt..."

His desperation was palpable, his body trembling with the force of his desire as he awaited your response, praying you would give him the green light to plunge forward and claim you. He shoves his pants down, his slick cock, tender from his recent orgasm, hits his belly, and you try to sit up.

"Fuck, you bastard, get off," You try to protest, to hide how bad you want it despite the risk of you losing your job or being killed for doing something so reckless and idiotic. But your pussy can't hide how you crave to have his fat cock deep inside you.

His mouth watered at the intoxicating scent of your arousal, ripe and heady and consuming. He lavishes your breasts with desperate, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue swirling around one stiff peak, lapping and suckling greedily, before switching to its twin, determined to taste every inch of your succulent flesh. You cry out, keening dumbly. You hate how good it feels.

"Mmm... you taste... fuck, you taste incredible..." he praises between slurping kisses, sending vibrations tingling through your skin.

Below, Jun-ho's aching cock jerked and throbbed against your soaked pussy. Each twitch of his sensitive flesh against your core drew a guttural groan from the man's throat, and a soft whine from you, his hips rutting instinctively, chasing more of that exquisite friction.

"You're so pretty," he panted, the words tumbling out in a desperate, incoherent jumble.

He could feel the heat radiating off your cunt, could sense your body's readiness, yet still you held back, trying to retain some semblance of control.

He whimpered in frustration, his cock pulsing urgently against you as he gazed up at you with pleading, lust-glazed eyes. "Tell me... fuck, tell me you want it too..." he rasped, his voice breaking on the desperate words. "I can't... I can't hold back much longer..."

For a moment, you remained silent, your expression an unreadable mask. But then, with a sharp inhale and a barely audible hiss of air through gritted teeth, you finally uttered the word he craved to hear. "Yes... " you gasped, your voice tight with barely restrained desire. "Yes, I... I want it..."

Relief crashed through him like a tidal wave, and he released a shuddering sigh, his body relaxing slightly as the tension drained from his muscles.

And then, with a careful, deliberate movement, he positions the dripping, weeping tip of his cock at the entrance to your pussy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he began to press forward, his hips inching closer, the sensitive crown of his cock parting your slick, swollen folds, eliciting a shaky gasp from you as your hands fly to his broad shoulders.

"Ohhh... fuck..." He groans, his voice a low, drawn-out rumble as he felt the exquisite, silken walls of your pussy clenching around the invading head of his dick.

You're so incredibly tight, so deliciously snug, that he had to pause. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the way your body resisted, then yielded, then resisted again, as if trying to suck him in deeper, to swallow him whole.

His hands clench on your hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Sweat beads on his brow as he focused all his concentration, every ounce of his willpower, on the slow, tortuous process of sinking into you.

Inch by excruciating inch, he invaded you, feeling your slick, plush walls flutter and clench around his sensitive cock, as if trying to draw him impossibly deeper.

"Goddamn... " Jun-ho groans, his breath coming in harsh, tortured pants as he finally bottomed out, his pelvis flush against yours, causing his heavy, full balls to nestle perfectly into the curve of your ass.

He could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing, pulsing beat of his flesh as it was engulfed in your sloppy little pussy. It took every shred of his control not to cum then and there, to spill his seed deep inside you. "Atta girl... squeeze me just like that..." He murmurs lowly, beginning to withdraw, feeling your walls drag against him, before plunging back in, starting a deep, deliberate rhythm.

Unwillingly, your composure starts to waver, your cool demeanor cracking. Soft, breathy moans leave your lips insistently, making his cock twitch inside you. "Y-you sound so pretty, you know that?" He chokes out through moans, thrusting steadily into you. "So good... S-so good for me, baby. I got you."

He talks you through it, feeling you flutter and clench around his sensitive flesh, as if trying to draw him even deeper. "Shit... fuck... so fucking tight..." he grunted, his hips pumping in a slow, deep rhythm that had your body jerking and bouncing beneath him.

You could feel your mind starting to go fuzzy, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind as the pleasure mounted. "T-too deep, so deep..." you say, your words slurring together as you struggled to form coherent sentences.

Your fingers scrabbled at his back, nails digging into his sweat-slicked skin as you clung to him, anchoring yourself against him. Jun-ho could feel your body starting to tremble, could sense the desperation building in your touch and your breathy little cries. They spurred him on, urging him to thrust harder and deeper.

"That's it... fuck... take it... take my cock... take every fucking inch..." he growled, his voice a low, feral rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His mind could barely process the feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock, watching the way he'd stretch you out with every thrust.

The obscene sound of your arousal filled his ears, each deep, powerful thrust eliciting a lewd plap, plap, plap as your dripping walls struggled to accommodate his girth. "Fuck, listen to her... listen to your greedy little pussy sucking me in. She doesn't want me to go anywhere, does she? Wants my cum to fill her right up." he bends down, panting hotly against your neck, his lips and teeth and tongue working over your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks and kisses.

He could feel you trembling, could sense you trying to hide your face in the crook of your shoulder, no doubt an instinctive move to hide how good you feel, but he would not allow it. He hooks his hand under your chin, tilting your face back towards him, forcing you to meet hungry gaze. "Don't you hide from me now," he cooed, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to see your cute little face."

You whimper, a deep blush covering your cheeks as you were forced to confront the his blatant, almost reverent adoration of you. "I'm not... I'm not cute..." you protested weakly, even as your hips begin to move up to meet his, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"You're not?" he asks, punctuating his words with a sharp, deep thrust that had you seeing stars. "But look at you... taking my cock like you were made for it... like your perfect little pussy was molded just for me..." His hand slid down, fingers splaying possessively over your lower belly, feeling it clench and quiver as he filled you so completely. "That's right, baby... this is your pussy's purpose... to milk my cock dry."

He could feel you starting to tense, your thighs beginning to quake around his pistoning hips, your belly fluttering beneath his splayed fingers. Your breathy moans and whimpers rose in pitch and volume, blending with Jun-ho's guttural groans and ragged pants to create a symphony of carnal bliss that echoed off the walls.

"Fuck, yes... that's it, baby... Come with me." the man urged breathlessly as he drank in the exquisite sight of you lost in ecstasy. "I want to feel this greedy little cunt squeeze the cum out of my cock. You miss a drop, and we do it all over again, you hear me?" He delivers a sharp snap of his hips, a brutal thrust that buried him to the hilt in you, kissing your womb so sweetly.

You size up suddenly, letting out a cry as your pussy clenched down hard, rhythmically, milking his throbbing cock for all it was worth as you rode out the crest of your climax.

The man threw back his head with a groan, a feral sound, as he felt your velvety walls spasming around him, sucking him deeper, urging him to fill you with his cum. He slams into you one last time before his own release overtook him. His cock jerked and pulsed, erupting as he pumped you full of his hot, thick seed, painting your insides white.

You collapsed together in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and heaving chests, the aftershocks of their shared climax leaving you both breathless. You could only cling to him as he leaned down and pressed a gentle little kiss to your temple.

"Don't try and beat me up ever again."

"Fuck you."

"Just did, baby."

[yuri-is-online]

(Scatters more Aceyuu birdfeed for the lovelies)

Imagine, when Yuu awoke in Twisted Wonderland, they didn't even have their own clothes--they were in the ceremonial robes--at best they're (probably) given a janitors uniform from Crowly when they first meet Ace. Fast forward a day or so when Ace decides to camp out at Ramshackle for the first time and he really sees your situation. You're not some nutjob and their badly trained pet who broke into the school, you are in trouble.

Cut to Ace finally moving back into his dorm after Riddle's overblot and Ace is going through his stuff (to make sure his roommates didn't mess with it) and he finds like, an old pair of pyjamas he doesn't really wear anymore. This shirt is pretty outdated fashion-wise too. And he has no idea why he packed this pair of shorts for school either! They could go to a good home, he supposed, before bunging his unwanted hand-me-downs in a bag and setting off back to Ramshackle. Trying to ignore the first signs of a pitter-pattering heart as he watches your face light up with realisation when you pull out his old clothes from an old sports bag. He knew you needed clothes but seeing how much this meant to you? Yeah, Ace is gonna be doing all sorts of things to take care of you now to keep that smile. And don't get me started about how he got butterflies the first weekend he went to see you and you were wearing his (ill-fitting) clothes!

After Book 4, Ace has another suitcase of "charity clothes" from home (if Yuu is fem presenting, then he might've asked his mum for her hand-me-downs so Yuu would have some more "girly" clothes, if that's what they want) only to come up short when going to deliver them too you as he sees Deuce wrapping his old leather jacket around your shoulders, or Jack giving you an old cardigan that you're just swimming in.

He can't help but feel betrayed, in a way, seeing you accept clothes from your other friends. Logically speaking, he knows you're not in a position to be turning down charity, but the sting of losing what felt like just a you two thing hurts. He's sulking and petty and got this stupid suitcase sitting in his room for weeks while he pouts, glaring daggers at Deuce for the betrayal (Deuce is just confused, he was just helping a homie stay warm since there's snow on the ground. Jack is at least aware of the connotations but likes returning the shit Ace sends his way).

Eventually it bubbles up to one day, when the group are studying in Heartslaybul, Deuce forgot his noted in his room and Yuu offers to grab them, noticing the suitcase they bring it up to the guys and Ace squirms as Deuce mentions how Ace brought it after winter break and hasn't touched it since. Everyone badgers him for what's in it and Ace won't admit it infront of everyone else there, you gotta get him alone so later on, Yuu broaches it again and he admits its more clothes but he felt stupid seeing you get more from everyone else (he plays it off like "didnt want you swamped with stuff you didn't want" or something) but Yuu perks up, asking what he brought and if he still wants to give them to them. Maybe accidentally admitting they still mostly only use Ace's old pj's because it smells like him because his stuffs just more comfy and they like his stuff more.

Something something small fashion show for Ace something something this got a lot longer than I intended uwahhhh.....

If Ace could go back in time he'd probably punch himself for all the comments he made before he started using his goddamn brain and LOOKED at your situation he would, but he can't so he instead does what Ace does best and looks out for you while pretending he's not doing that at all and does not care.

But the problem is of course that Ace does care. You open the door in his clothes and it really doesn't matter what you're saying anymore. He's forgotten why he's here, actually, instead there's a hum in the back of his skull that he likes. He likes seeing you in his pajamas, he likes spending time with you. Ace will never say it out loud, in fact he denies it every chance he gets, but he likes spending time with you and Deuce. The other first years are fun, and he likes the basketball club, but the two of you are the best use of his time. He doesn't even think about the others maybe wanting to help you out because he's the one who takes care of you. Not Deuce or Jack, him. Maybe he spends winter break thinking about you and going through his things. Maybe he has to hype himself up as he takes his duffel bag back because his mom teased him just a little too much about things running in the family.

Deuce giving you a leather jacket breaks something in him. Ace thought Deuce would have been drowning in attention based on the bad boy appeal alone and that jacket just cements it, even if the blank look his glares get sort of soothes the jealous ache somewhat. "Don't be rude Ace! No one likes having to rely on hand me downs-" Juice is so fucking stupid he doesn't know why he bothered being jealous. Jack's a different story though because on the one hand he "hates" the idea of appearing vulnerable but on the other hand there is a chance to dunk on Ace just waiting to be taken and that has to make up for temporary embarrassment. He could probably get Leona in on this too if he spins it the right way, wouldn't that be funny? Fine, Ace will just keep his things to himself since you... probably don't want them huh. Yeah, sure he swears you always wear his pajamas but that's because you don't have other clothes. You've got stuff now you don't need him. He's not the only person taking care of you... oh well!

When Yuu asks him about the suitcase he plays it off. "Just some extra stuff, you know. Parents am I right?" When everyone leaves he teases you about it because he's embarrassed and he needs to take it out somewhere.

"You really thought of me?" There's a look on your face that renders Ace speechless. "Thank you... I. You really didn't need to but if you have something similar to the pajamas..." You were wearing the shorts tonight. Come to think of it he hasn't seen you in Jack's shirt much. Deuce's jacket was meant to protect against the snow so it's not like he can

"You can have it." He mumbles, looking off to the side instead of into your eyes. "It's not like they weren't meant for you I just forgot about it you know?"

Maybe he'll buy you something next time, no one's done that yet right?

[lilydalexf]

hello! I'm new to following you on Tumblr, but I followed your content from Golgle, I wanted to know if by any chance you knew of any fanfic in which Scully recovered her memories of the abduction, I've been wanting to read one like that for a while, but I can't find it, thanks!

Welcome, and thank you for the ask! Here are some good fics where Scully remembers something about her season 2 abduction. Enjoy!

12 Rites of Passage: Regression by Anne Haynes Part 9 of the 12 Rites of Passage series: Mulder and Scully seek a missing woman and discover frightening truths about their pasts. (Sequel to the series: 12 Degrees of Separation.)

Anamorphosis by Megan Reilly Assigned to find a horrifying serial murderer, Agent Scully discovers things about herself and her past that she never suspected.

Comfortably Numb by Paige Caldwell There is no pain...you are receding...a distant ship...smoke on the horizon...you are coming through in waves...Your lips move but I can't hear what you say...I have become comfortably numb...

The Cry of the Truth by A.I. Irving As their love affair unfolds, Scully reveals to Mulder a painful secret relating to her abduction. Mulder's reaction tests their bond and eventually leads Scully to discover a few truths about herself.

Dance Without Sleeping by wonderland (@amplifyme) Scully learns to live with her cancer and take back control of her life. Meanwhile, Mulder works on fulfilling a wish list. (Fic in the same universe: Into Each Other Sinking.)

grief by ms_starlight71 Scully goes in for a routine pap smear sometime post-cancer arc and has a panic attack/flashback related to her abduction.

i'm still in love with who i wish you were by comeherebooch “You were abducted, Scully,” Mulder said, sensing her confusion, “do you remember anything?” Post Requiem.

Ingénue by Punk (@punkm) Mulder and Scully investigate the circumstances surrounding a fifteen-year-old girl's multiple disappearances.

locking out the ghosts by skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking) Post-Emily arc, an emotionally vulnerable Scully breaks off the incredibly new relationship she and Mulder have recently been engaged in. As the season moves forward, how do they cope with this new development in their relationship, and how do the stressful situations their job puts them in affect this?

Malleus Maleficarum by Pellinor A stranger with a tempting offer promises hope in Mulder's time of need. Refusal could cost him and Scully their lives, but could the price of acceptance be greater still?

Movie Night by @nowwhateinstein “Talk about spooky,” he says as the movie fades to black and the credits begin to roll. She laughs and gives a small shake of her head. “That word,” she says. “It means something different to me now.”

Revanche by Ryo Sen Revanche - (noun) political policy designed to recover lost territory or status

Skin by Annie Sewell-Jennings In a world where Mulder and Scully have never met, fate intervenes and brings two worlds colliding in the city of Charleston, as a vicious murderer reigns and a storm approaches.

Right Hand Return by orphan_account An alternative universe in which Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

Time Can Heal by PostApocolypticAlien (@scullysexual) Mulder realises that his quest for the truth costs too much (WIP)

Truthseekers by Leyla Harrison (No summary provided)

until it heals by actualchangeling (@actual-changeling) Nightmares cannot be fought with logic or light, there is no way of expelling them from her brain, not a single moment of peace to catch her breath. Scully knows one thing that always helps, though. Or rather—someone. When she finds herself lost and drowning, she calls the one person in the world whom she trusts to keep her safe. She calls Mulder.

The Way by KMNAHILL and MD1016 Scully becomes mysteriously ill. Mulder, Melissa, and Tao help to heal her. / On assignment in Chicago, Scully’s illness progresses. / An assignment in Oregon turns out to be more than first expected. Humorous antics from the Lone Gunmen. / Samantha returns and isn’t what Mulder had expected.

White Light by aka_Jake While investigating a young woman's claim of alien abduction, Mulder and Scully are led on a cross-country chase of intrigue and murder. As they search for answers, Scully's own abduction memories resurface.

[cringekind]

hannibal rewatching s1e9 trou normand THOUGHTS

Will going to Hannibal while he's losing time sort of means everything to me. Like Hannibal has officially successful made Will feel like Hannibal is his only support, his "paddle", so much so that even while out of it and losing time he winds up at Hannibal's office. And the ease with which he visits Hannibal in this episode, as if going to him after kissing Alana and having his feelings validated, his fears assuage has proven Hannibal reliable in Wills mind. Just delicious!! And I love that during that scene, Hannibal reaffirms he's there for Will "I'm your friend Will, I don't care about the lives you save I care about your life", and then not only undermining Wills analysis of his illness (since Will again brings up physical symptoms and the idea of a physical illness) but plants the seed in Wills mind that the more unstable he becomes the more violent he might become. Just like beautifully crafted manipulation.

And then immediately afterwards we have Will trying to apologize to Jack. the lack of general concern on Jack's behalf, saying losing himself is just what Will does without seriously considering the toll that might take. His tone is so paternally condescending, like Will is a surely teenager purposefully being obtuse. But the best part of the scene is Will lying to Jack. Hannibal has Will so convinced he has no one else, and he knows Jack will pull him from field work if he starts to slip, that realizing Jack didn't notice makes him lie that he's fine. I'm not sure Jack believes him but it gives him plausible deniablity and beyond that he can't demand Will get help if Will won't be honest about the ways he's struggling. Will lying to Jack, blatantly, in this small way is absolutely the red flag of "and he will lie to Jack again to suit his needs".

the moment between Alana and Will always leaves me conflicted. On the one hand, almost no one in Wills life is both honest with him and doesn't treat him like a child, and that's what Alana is trying to do here. She's upfront both about her feelings and why she can't act on them, treating Will like an equal for the maybe the first time ever in their relationship, even while telling him he's unstable. but I do think in a way it's cruel to say this to him. be upfront about his instability meaning you can't have a relationship? good. but the banter and the flirting, leading with her having feelings for him and not the rejection. She's trying to do the right thing, she's not being malicious, but Will is so desperately alone right now and it seems cruel to reject him after giving him hope again. Ultimately she's doing the right thing, and there's not really a good way to say what she did, but it makes me ache for Will.

the scene of Will confronting Hannibal about Abigail is like permanently imprinted on my brain. his anger, and its half at abigail having committed a crime and half that Hannibal helped cover it up and didn't tell Will. he's so betrayed by it all, and imo that's what he's really struggling with. He accepts both Abigail having murdered someone and Hannibal covering up so quickly, but the hurt remains. and then Hannibal lays it on sooooo thick "we're her fathers now". the logical part of me knows he playing to Wills paternal instincts towards Abigail to insure Will doesn't tell Jack and implicate him in a crime, but it's so heavy handed its like girl just get down on one knee already my god. and the reassuring touch after Will agrees to cover it up when Hannibal KNOWS Will is craving connection more than anything right now... it could actually drive me insane!!!!!

everything abigail is crazy making. the parental lecturing tone Will and Hannibal take with her, Will reaching out again trying to have someone in his life and having abigail reject that almost instantly where she doesn't shrug of Hannibal. her exposing nick Boyle and the conversations with Hannibal about it. even the way he hugs her after she admits to being the lure!!! it's such a strong moment for her, this true vulnerability she only shows around Hannibal. there's this small moment when she eats the meat for the first time, the look on Abigails face... I know that's also the moment she realizes that Will knows but the way it's shot makes it seem like she knows she's eating people. always the lingering shot on the food and her face after she takes a bite, and the way she fully pauses after the first bite. so good

I imagine as I get closer and closer to The Reveal, I'll have more and more to say, but these posts are truly getting absurdly long

[kichikichiko]

Ok, so I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable with this request. If I do, just tell me!

Ok, and you do a SFW/Fluff of Wally Darling x Y/N who is pregnant (I don’t even think it’s possible that puppets can be pregnant but I guess roll with it 😅)

So, can you do headcannons on marriage + pregnancy (If you’re comfortable with writing that. I don’t know why I just think sense he’s in a kids tv show and is overall calm, I think he would be amazing with kids) gender of children/kids if there will be multiple are up to you, doesn’t really matter.

Also I think you would be cute if we got a small reaction from the neighbors of the marriage and or pregnancy! Like how would the whole neighborhood react to this?

Our little family

An: HI EVERYONE IM BACKKKK

I saw this cute request and literally could not resist I HAD TO!

I love reading n writing pregnancy related fics its so fun n fluffy UGH

Hope you like this liz! I totally agree with you. Wally would be good with kids no doubt

Synopsis: HC of Wally with a pregnant puppet reader!

Pairing: Wally Darling x AFAB reader

Cw: fluff, pregnancy, established relationship, reader is called mother @ the end, wally is probs OOC, defies all puppet logic known to mankind

──────•❥❥❥•──────

You and Wally Darling have always been Welcome Home's "it" couple, so imagine the happiness everyone felt when the two of you got married, and imagine the shock everyone felt when you got pregnant!

When you found out you're pregnant you couldn't contain your happiness

You had to tell Wally ASAP after he came back from Barnaby's place

You like knitting so you thought it'd be fun to surprise him with knitted baby clothes, so you got straight to work.

Wally came home at around 1 PM, right after lunch. "Darling I'm Home!"

"Over in the living room dear!" You called, and he made his way to the living room.

Seeing your giddy expression has become one he's used to, but Wally had a feeling that something was different "Darling, you seem really giddy today, did something happen?"

To his question you grinned wider "Im happy everyday with you dear, but I suppose you can say the reason as to why is..." trailing off you picked up the yellow knitted baby outfit you have finished in the morning

Wally couldnt believe it.

Mr. Darling had always been known to have the same expression no matter what, but hearing this news caused him to have his jaw dropped to the floor (quite literally)

Most people would take this as a bad sign, but you knew Wally better than that. You could tell all sorts of emotions and thoughts ran through his brain

"I'll be a father? This can't be happening!" "What a miracle!" "Ill be the best papa for my son or daughter... or both!" "Im so lucky" were just a few he manage to say to you before deciding to kiss you all over your face with his signature slow laugh.

All the other 8 neighbours were delighted to hear that youre pregnant! Thanks to Wally walking around and casually telling them of course.

Julie screamed with joy, hugging you jumping up and down (dangerously close to you) which caused your dear husband to kindly and gently, push and remind Julie to be more careful. To which she complied, causing you to giggle

Sally, a drama queen obviously giggled with joy as well, only she knew better than to hug you while jumping up and down. She promises to give your kid a show once they were old enough to understand.

Poppy was shocked and happy for you and wally, so much so the bird started baking you a cake as a congratulations. She promised you that if you ever had any cravings, just give her a call and she'll be more than happy to bake you something!

Frank was delighted to say the least, despite his face not showing it. You knew he cared. And Frank being Frank, gave you heads up on pregnancy, what to avoid eating, what to do when feeling contractions, letting you know the size of your baby etc. This is his love language, info dumping. He will come and visit Home whenever you need him. As he is Welcome Home's book worm.

Howdy was very delighted. Gave you a pat on the back as well as a hearty laugh. Howdy started stocking up on baby items like pacifiers, diapers and baby toys just for you in the shop

Eddie of course, was just as happy as the other members of Welcome Home. Being the Mailman, he told you that once your belly grows big and you can no longer walk, he'd be happy to deliver your mails and or deliver things to you.

It was delightful having so many wonderful and kind neighbours all around you! And having a wonderful husband made your pregnancy journey fairly easy despite its occasional ups and downs throughout the 9 months.

BONUS:

Once your daughter came into the world, everyone was in awe and took care of her like the niece they never knew they needed!

Wally was obviously a fantastic father, and you were a fantastic mother

When your daughter is old enough, he'd teach her how to paint and they'd go on father daughter dates around the neighbourhood. Painting all they can see and proudly showing their work to you once they get back

Wally would read your daughter bedtime stories to help her sleep

Maybe even throughout the day as well

Waddles up to her father and shows him a book

"Oh? Whats this my sweet peach?" He'd startd "you want papa to read you this book?"

With a gleeful nod she'd get on her tippy toes and give Wally a full clear view on the book

"My sweets its not even bedtime yet are you sure you dont want to save this for tonight?"

He ends up reading it to her anyways

His daughter is his greatest weakness

It made you feel at ease knowing that your daughter is surrounded by kind and loving people <333

──────•❥❥❥•──────

REQUESTS

Masterlist here!

[starguardianniom]

When the arrow strikes twice

My first fic ever I am no writer at all but I needed to write a lil something about Harumasa and some angst after he survives his agent story, set after he defeated Kirishima and before he goes back to work, first time he wakes up fully in the hospital. Lots of angst because well, our boy didn't expect to be alive and freak out quite a bit about it because there's just no way. You can all thank @cozywithbooks who was persuasive talking me to write it.

..............................................................................................................................

Harumasa slowly woke up, feeling extremely weak, he knew he was still alive somehow. How? What? Huh?

He opened his eyes to see his doctor standing next to him, looking relieved to see him awake. "Welcome back to the land of livings, mister Asaba." His doctor said warmly.

Harumasa just stared at him in utter confusion and shock. "What?" He asked.

"You gave us quite the scare and we were sure you weren't gonna survive but you miraculously pulled through." His doctor gently explained. "You still need to stay a few more days for more check-ups but so far you are recovering extremely well, it's a true miracle, sir." The excited glint in the doctor's eyes showed Harumasa that he was very happy with his condition.

Yet all Harumasa could feel at the moment was pure dread, terror and shock. "WHAT? HOW? I WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE HOW AM I STILL ALIVE????!!!!" Screamed the poor boy who was on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

"Calm down now, Harumasa. I know it's a lot to take in but I can assure you that you are doing well for now. I can't explain how you managed to survive though, it's also a mystery to us. You slowly got better just when we were out of options, your recovery is a real miracle that can't be explained by medicine as of yet, we are still waiting for your results." His doctor calmly said.

"There are no miracles for me. My illness was getting worse. I was losing my senses. I even injected myself with the perfected drug of my master which should have finished the job completely. So don't tell me that I'm fine. I should be dead twice over actually. What's next, my illness is gone?" Harumasa ranted, getting more and more agitated over the situation.

He didn't understand. He was supposed to be dead. The drug should have offed him off. He remembered collapsing with the proxy vainly trying to get him stay conscious, but it was his final mission. Yet here he was, in the hospital with his doctor.

The whole thing felt surreal to him about as much as ethereals walking outside of the Hollows. It didn't make any sense. He felt like reality had changed to a whole new set of laws of logic, and him being alive after what he went through was pratically defying all logic. His brain was trying hard and failing to do all the gymnastic needed to comprehend any of it.

He felt himself feeling sick with dread, wondering if it was a sick joke and if his condition somehow went a whole new direction never seen before.

The stress of the last week, plus him still breathing afterwhat, was eating him alive. His stomach was a twisted knot, he felt sweaty all over and he was trying to control his breathing, as he started to breathe a bit louder than usual as panic was slowly setting in over the whole mess.

"Rest assured, you are doing ok for now. We are all pleasantly surprised at how well you are doing currently. Sadly you still have your illness, but it is for now extremely stable. Actually, it is the most stable it has ever been for you so far." His doctor continued, while passing him down a glass of water to try to calm him down.

Harumasa took the cup with shaky hands. "So now what? Did my illness mutated into something new that we haven't seen before or something? You're not gonna tell me that the drug and the illness cancelled each other to make something new. Like fighting fire with fire. Does it changes my condition. Am I even more at risk now?" Harumasa shrieked.

"Well, uh, not as far as we can tell. B-but, we are monitoring you very closely. Y-you do need to calm down, your body endured a lot of stress, you need to rest." His doctor stammered.

"CALM DOWN???" Harumasa screamed. "I had the most stressful week of my life, I learned my former master who I had tried to catch for years became an ethereal rendering all my efforts of my life so far to nothing, I had to put him down, then I had to catch a criminal while slowly dying from my illness, while also trying to save a bunch of kids with the same condition as me from the criminal who was going to kill them all, and then inject myself with the drug the criminal wanted just to be sure it would not be used ever which should have ended my life, do not tell me to calm down, I will throttle you" Harumasa threatened.

"I understand Harumasa, but you are still weak from your illness you need to rest to recover." The Doctor was looking at him sympathically.

Harumasa really wanted to strangle him, but he felt exhausted, being angry and confused tired him out. Instead he asked for the next things that came to mind. "So what now? Did my illness change stuff for me? Do I need to change pills? Do I need to take more pills? What do I tell my pharmacist? Will I get new symptoms? Oh man if I start getting seizures I'll never be able to go back to work I'll have to retire please tell me I won't get new symptoms or need to change prescriptions." Harumasa swiftly rambled, getting more angsty at each question.

"So far yes it has changed, for the better for now. It is very stable so you are doing ok. Based on our observations you won't need to change pills or get more. We also don't think that you'll have new symptoms, on the contrary we feel you might experience them less often. You have to understand, your recovery is pratically a miracle of god, you came here with half your right side having corruption signs over you, your right eye was blue, and yet that all went away fast and you managed to wake up a bit before losing consciousness again, but it is extraordinary." The doctor spoke, clearly still in awe of witnessing the whole event happening.

Harumasa wasn't as enthusiastic. His thoughts were in all directions, trying to make sense of any of it. He had long lost hope of some miracle humbly getting send his way. Everything the doctor said just made him more confused and scared. Miracles happens to other people, not people like him, and expecially not him. Everytime it seemed to go his way, life would snatch it away. Like his master. Like his life.

And yet.

Here he was. Still breathing. Still alive. He didn't feel a headache coming over, his eyes didn't sting, his lungs were pain free, his hands weren't shaking, he didn't feel lightheaded or nauseous. Yes, minus the exhaustion, he hadn't felt that good in maybe never before in his life. His body was fine for now.

His mental breakdown was slowly going away too, but one thing at the time.

Feeling sleep creeping up on him, he felt like joking a little to calm himself: "So this is what Hell looks like, my life at the hospital, I am surprised though, I thought Hell would have been me stuck at work doing overtime for eternity." Harumasa lightly laughed.

"Now now, Harumasa, you are truly alive, and this isn't the afterlife. Now sleep for a while, you need it." His doctor fondly told him, chuckling at himself hearing his patient joking like usual.

Yes, he would be fine.

..............................................................................................................................

So, how was it? I had this idea because to me it only makes sense that Harumasa would be beyond confused and scared when waking up at the hospital instead of being dead. So he gets a mental breakdown for a little bit before calming down. Which is why we're here. The title kind of reference when Harumasa injects himself with the drug, his target is to stop the drug from being in anyone's hands, and getting healed from it a bit is a bonus, so he strikes twice without meaning to as if he shot 2 targets with one arrow when he was just hoping to hit one target. I hope you guys liked it. ^^

Again my first fic be nice please.

[californiannostalgia]

Processing identity as a child abuse survivor

Recently I had a huge revelation. Come with me on this childhood trauma realization journey (if you want).

This post was written for those wavering on the 'was it abuse' question.

Fair warning, each of these revelations were a whammy. I recommend you keep in mind that these revelations will transform the way you see yourself and the world. This took me out of commission for hours at a time.

Revelation 1: Was I Abused?

Read this Tumblr post. Go down the list. Check the 'yes'es and 'maybe's.

'Was I abused' is a yes or no question. I need you to really think about this if your answer is 'kind of'. If you could be truly honest with yourself, what would your answer be?

For years I've gone to the logic of 'it wasn't that bad,' and 'at least the worst didn't happen,' or 'others have had it worse'. This is such a low bar. You deserve better than the bar your parents set for you. The socioeconomic circumstances and the normalization of violence in your living area? Yes, influential. But not a justification.

At the end of the day, the veracity of these statements don't even matter. It's a yes or no question: 'Am I a survivor of child abuse?'

It may take a really long time to truly process, and even then it might feel uncomfortable saying it like it's truth. I need you to know your truth is truth. It's a yes or no question.

Take a break. I recommend you don't progress further until you've processed Revelation 1.

(Shameless plug-in of my fandom blorbo interests: Rick Riordan's Trials of Apollo series really helped me with this first revelation. It made me feel seen and less alone. It may not be perfect, but I personally liked it!)

Revelation 2: What does this mean? (health-wise)

Listen to this Ted Talk by an expert (medical professional).

This is the part where I got angry and really fucking sad. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be furious. Our life is not our fault and we're still stuck with this lot.

Genuinely this was such a shock for me to realize. The thing that has the biggest impact on my life is not my anxiety, depression, ptsd, insomnia, blood pressure, immune health, etc. The root cause of my physical and mental illnesses is Adverse Childhood Experiences.

ACE is more common than you'd think. Acknowledging that what happened to you was bad will be beneficial to humanity's survival in the long run. Like any illness, ACE can be fought at a societal level.

Take a break. I recommend you don't progress to the next revelation until you've processed Revelation 2.

Take your time to be angry and sad. Take forever. You never have to forgive your abuser, even if they change their behavior. The chance at a civil acquaintanceship you might be willing to extend to your parents doesn't require your forgiveness.

.

Revelation 3: Why is your therapist recommending you retell your life story?

This one is mostly for when you have steady access to a therapist. Here are some things I wish I'd known before seeking out therapy in the US.

(Is it shitty that you can't get therapy on your own terms when you're underage? Yes, it fucking is. To those of us who survived to adulthood: holy shit y'all. At 19 I felt like absolute fucking bullshit, like my brain was a burning ball of tangled barbed wire. It does feel absolutely shitty. But reaching 19 is an achievement.)

The thing is, I do or say a lot of things that I later come to think of as embarrassing, inappropriate, or in certain circumstances, potentially abusive. Genuine trigger reactions happen. I will always have to live with a piece of my parents in my head. But I don't want to do to another person what they did to me. Self-awareness is what separates me from my abusers.

What to do about this? Number 1: chill out. You're not gonna be your abuser. Humans are unique and imperfect. They have not replicated themselves in you. It's okay to make mistakes when you're talking or reacting. Your brain is fucked up. You can do something differently next time.

Number 2: read this article about Overthinking, Over-apologizing, Oversharing, and Overwhelmed as trauma responses.

Then read this article on how to deal with Unresolved Trauma.

Yeah. It be like that. Isn't it fucked up? Recognizing the four Os in my behavior helped me realize I'm not an antisocial asshole by default.

Unresolved trauma is the root cause for my behaviors that I think of as unhealthy. This revelation happened very recently for me. Before this point in time, I couldn't understand why I would want to recount traumatic events in therapy.

At this point in time, I have regular access to a therapist I'm okay with. Going over memories and deconstructing the blame system seems like a reasonable thing to try.

What happened to you as a child is not your fault. You're not the one who landed yourself in your life. You've been given an unfairly difficult situation to be responsible for. You did not create your coping mechanisms for shits and giggles.

So yeah. Number 3: figure out your life with the help of a therapist. Let's see where we are ten years later or something.

Nothing is easy and everything is confusing. Take a break, hydrate, eat, sleep, do something nice for yourself. Do something you like doing. Thanks for reading.

[jesus-is-an-ally]

How do you get past feeling stupid when you believe in God? Like, how do you ignore the feeling that you should be an atheist and not believe in God and that all this is just, a fake made up religion meant to control people? And obviously when i say you i mean i. I want to believe but i feel so dumb for it. I know im a smart person but every time i get involved with christianity i feel like im taking to an imaginary friend because thats how everyone refers to it. I feel like im feeding into an industry that colonized people, when i dont even go to church.

And ive had experiences with God that feel so unlike any religious experience ive had, but my brain always forces me to logic it away. Like ill feel an immeasurable level of calm and happiness and then my brain will go 'those are just endorphins'. How do i get past that?

Long read ahead, but I encourage everyone to read it, because I did my best to answer this and I think there's some good stuff in here.

Hey anon. First I'd like to say that I am not professionally trained, I do not possess a biblical degree of any kind, nor am I a pastor or a priest or anyone like that. But I have been a Christian my entire life, so that should count for something, Lord willing.

I also want to say that I think this is a very good question and I thank you for asking it, as it gave me a chance to think deeply on my faith in order to put it into words.

I always find it really hard to explain faith. I struggle to explain to fellows Christians, to non-Christians, and especially to people who aren’t religious or spiritual in any way. This is probably because faith is very much not a thing of this world, so it is nit easily translatable. But I will try my best.

I too have dealt with doubts in my life. I have felt the need to logic it away. All Christians have one doubt or another, and if they say they haven't, they are lying or potentially believing in a watered down, more palatable version of Christianity.

Either way, let's face it, the world is designed by the devil to make you doubt. The good news is that there is no question or doubt or critique that is going to make God start shaking in Their boots, realizing They hadn't thought of that. They are omnipotent, and anything you are wondering can most likely be found in the Bible, if you know where and how to look.

There are many books that explain the logic of Christianity, such as “Person of Intrest” by J. Warner Wallace or “The Case for A Creator” by Lee Strobel, who has also written many other books similar to this. Fair warning, it’s been forever since I’ve looked into either of these books, so there’s a chance there’s questionable stuff in there that I don’t remember.

However, I do need to say that faith is very much NOT a logical thing. It’s a belief in something that you cannot see, touch, hear, or otherwise sense except with your soul. It's the trust that God is out there, even when you lack concrete evidence.

I believe a person cannot become a believer by force, whether their own or someone else's. You have to truly open up your heart and let the Holy Spirit in. You must confess with your mouth that you believe in the Son of God who died and rose again, that you are a sinner, and that you need forgiveness and guidance.

I'm not pulling this out of my ass, there are a bunch of verses on how faith is not based in the logic of this world. Here are a few.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3‬:‭5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭2‬:‭4‬-‭5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

For we live by faith, not by sight.

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5‬:‭7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

There's a story I heard when I was a kid about a pastor being asked if he can hear God speaking to him in his prayers, and the pastor responded "no, I can't hear Him, it's much clearer than that". Faith is something practically unexplainable in earthly concepts or words. But it is solid, even it doesn't feel like it.

Hebrews chapter 11 is all about faith and what people have done by it, and I encourage you to read it, but I'd like to specifically call attention to Hebrews 11:1, which says,

Faith shows the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.

This is the verse often pointed to when people discuss the biblical definition of faith, and it's the best I can offer.

However, it sounds like science and reason is not the only thing you are struggling with. As for morality, how can we be Christians when Christianity was used to abuse, colonize, and murder innocent people all throughout history and even today?

I'm not going to use the bullshit excuse of "oh they just weren't real Christians" because that is unhelpful, defensive, and probably not even true. All Christians are sinners, and hatred, murder, and all of that other stuff are sins, so it is possible that many or all of those people were true believers.

The simple answer to this question is that sometimes you just have to accept that your people did bad things and swear do your best to stop it from happening again (without spending so much energy on it that you burn out). I have had a lot of practice at this since I'm also white.

In German elementary schools, when they teach the children about WW2, what they basically say is “hey, this is our history, you didn’t do it so you don’t have to feel guilt, but you do have a duty to never let it happen again”.

I think this sort of thinking should be taught to the descendants of all oppressive people. I will also add that we also need to check ourselves that no nasty thoughts have slipped their way in. Often, you can continue the hurt without realizing. But this doesn't mean that Christianity is secretly evil or that Christians are inherently going to abuse others or any of that.

At the end of the day, there's nothing I can truly say that will instantly make you believe.

Like I said, it's not something I can force nor is it something you can logic your way into. No amount of evidence, even if it's the most rock-solid thing in all of the universe, can make someone have faith.

I hope there is something in here that can help you in some way, anon, and I pray God blesses you and keeps you safe.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of both worlds (part 7)

Tw: vomiting, sick reader, implications that the housemates r jerks before, imo boring chapter just some comfort for sickness times

Vote the poll down below n im gonna start making the next part after 20 votes

part 8

You can barely get out of bed.

That means you didn't get to clean up your post-exam clutter. Making the entire room miserable and almost unhabitable. You couldn't sleep because you had a terrible fever, needing to eat a couple of paracetamols to cool yourself down.

Anything that goes in your mouth comes back up. You wouldn't want to waste your food anymore, so you simply stopped eating.

You woke up to loud knocking, borderline banging on your door and to the voice of your housemate. She's yelling about someone being here to see you.

That can't be right. Why would anyone want to visit you? You're not asking this in a self depreciating way, but in a logical sense where you knew no one knew you're suffering from food poisoning.

Except...

Realization dawns upon you when you hear a series of softer knocks. You heard Yves's muffled voice from the outside, asking you to open the door for him.

You checked your phone. It's four in the afternoon. He should still be at the library, why is he here?

Then your focus went to the notification banner about the four missed calls he left.

"(Name)? It's Yves. You haven't been answering my calls. I'm worried about you."

The last person you want to see now is goddamn fucking Yves. Yesterday already took a toll on you, having him over is going to worsen the illness- if the fever didn't fry your brain, the stress would.

You refused to answer, covering your head with your pillow as he continued to knock.

Eventually though, he stopped. The walls are thin so you could hear him ask your housemate about you. She said you were hurling all night, keeping everyone awake. They witnessed you trying to eat a cooked packet of instant noodles, but you immediately threw it all up the moment you swallowed a forkful.

"I see." You hear him reply. "May I see the kitchen?" He asked.

She was taken aback by the request, a kitchen shared by 7 other students isn't going to be the cleanest. There was a pause before she told him that it was messy.

"That does not matter." He responded. You heard a sigh and she verbally told him to go ahead.

You're sure he knows what the condition of it is. He was there yesterday for the trash bags. You wonder what business he has there.

When you hear him walk away from your bedroom door, you force yourself and your aching muscles to creep out of your room. Planning to eavesdrop on his conversation.

"Is this all they eat?" His voice echoed through the hallway.

"Yes. I literally have never seen them eat anything else. Maybe the occasional cold pizza slice or two, but that's it. I don't think they even own a frying pan. Sometimes I wonder how that bastard is still alive." Ouch. A simple Yes would suffice. Why did she have to air your dirty laundry like that?

You heard the fridge open.

"Yeah, this was supposed to be their side of the fridge, but it was always empty. So we used it as a spare." Yves hummed in response.

You rushed back into your room when you heard his heels begin to strike the floor. Quietly shutting the door and tucking yourself into your bed.

Perhaps he's giving up, you're not coming out of your-

You stared wide eyed as the knob twisted by itself.

You forgot to lock your door. Shit, you fucking forgot to lock your door.

You heard one last set of calm knocking and Yves voice: "(name), I'm coming in."

He pushed it open and you see his tall, slender frame coming into view. His hair is flowy and luscious as usual, clear skin and pristine makeup on his beautiful face. While you look like crap. And your room looks like crap, you can barely see the floor.

You gape at the square of translucent hydrocolloid dressing on the back of his hand. Looks like his burn yesterday started to blister.

"Damn! You live like this?" Your housemate expressed her disbelief when her eyes landed on the clothes, indiscernible between used and washed, strewn all over the place. The opened drawers and stacks of empty cups.

You hid under your blanket, you told her to shut up and get the fuck out of your room.

"Alright, you're a grump cause you're sick. But just so you know, you're still on garbage duty this week." She responded.

You groan, telling her that you knew that already. You told her to go away. But she doesn't respect you, none of your housemates do.

"Could you excuse us, please?" Yves politely dismissed her. She agrees and leaves your room immediately. Yves closes the door to maintain some privacy.

You remained hidden under the sheets, not wanting him to see you so vulnerable.

"You poor thing." He sighed. You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge. He gently peeled the blanket off your head, using the other hand to stroke your hair.

"You haven't eaten today, have you?" The fingers running through your grimy hair was... comforting. Too comforting, perhaps. You involuntarily started tearing up and crying, being reminded of a simpler time in your life. It brought back the feelings of security and safety, which you haven't felt in such a long while. You forgot how it felt, and it felt extremely good.

He stopped his caresses, but rested his hand on your scalp.

You told him you didn't mean to weep. You had no idea what has gotten into you. However, you're sure you're crying because of the state of your room and how two people had to see it- which includes someone with opinions you value very much: Yves.

He continued his affectionate touches as tears kept falling from your eyes.

No further words were exchanged between the two of you. Yves kept you company until you fell asleep from his rhythmic stroking. He pressed a kiss on your forehead before standing back up.

Yves sets his bag on your bed, he gets to work picking up stray articles of clothing from the floor. He dropped them all into your laundry basket in a messy pile.

Yves picked it up with no effort and carried it on his hip. He left your room and headed towards the basement, where the dryers and washing machines are kept. He knows where it is despite no one ever telling him.

--

You woke up with a jolt, thinking that Yves intruding your room was just a crazy fever dream.

Except, the presence of his unique luxury bag is right next to you. Scanning your surroundings, you definitely can tell Yves made his mark here.

You can see the floor again, you didn't know that it's that shiny and clean. All your clothes are missing and the corners are clear of any old trash. Everything you own is organized neatly, the shelves are displaying their respective categories in order. Your desk was wiped down and your textbooks arranged by colour.

Your room is unrecognizable, it wasn't even this nice when you first moved in.

Yves is nowhere to be found. You weakly got up and dragged yourself to the door. Locking yourself in and Yves out.

You always wondered what is in that bag. It seems to be carrying an impossible amount of items. Though, he uses a briefcase for his laptop and notes on weekdays, it's impressive that he managed to fit an umbrella in this small bag among other things.

You opened it and began rummaging through.

A lipstick, a compact mirror, disposable wet wipes, a hydrating facial spray, dry facial tissues, a hairbrush, his phone, a tin of breath mints, his oddly thin wallet- it made sense, the rich wouldn't carry around wads of cash. Only cards; An army Swiss knife, bandaids, a rectangle of a foldable grocery bag...

A set of keys attached to his car fob, a pen, some unidentifiable medication; it's printed in a foreign language, a case containing his reading glasses, another case that contains his sunglasses, portable eating utensils, a bottle of hand sanitizer, disinfectant spray, a power bank, charging cables, a portable fan, a hand fan, electronic ear buds, ear plugs...

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as you kept finding more things; perfume, a scrunchie, a couple of hair ties, sun screen, ointment, his reusable stainless steel thermal cup, lip balm, a face mask, portable paper soap, a stack of sticky notes and of course, an umbrella.

You dug deeper and found out that he's also hiding a scarf in there!

All that with heaps of space to spare, it doesn't look bulky from outside or in. You tried lifting it up by the handles, but it felt like you were trying to lift a barbell with one hand. It was bizarre how he could find what he wanted in the nick of time with all these things. Granted, it was neatly partitioned before you searched through it- oh. You messed up his system.

Shit! You're going to embarrass yourself again!

Well, you still have time. The door is locked and he isn't here yet, you could try putting it back.

You heard the door knob rattle. That must be him, he can't possibly get in right?

Your blood turned to ice when you heard the jingling of some keys. Of course, it's Yves. He would know to take your own keys with him. You heard him unlock your door.

You panicked and tried to hop out of bed, so you could barricade the door with something. But while doing so, you knocked the bag off the bed and made the contents of it spill out.

You let out a distressed yelp, his ten million things spread out all over the floor, some rolled under your bed.

"Did I startle you? I apologize." He came in with a laundry basket filled with freshly washed clothes. They're dry and warm to the touch. The basket looks noticeably clean too. Did he scrub it down? The dust and mold are gone, it went back to looking brand new.

You began apologizing, saying that you didn't mean to knock his bag down. You saw that as a potential escape from getting caught snooping around.

"No, it was my fault to leave it near the edge. It was bound to fall." He set the basket down and calmly began picking his belongings off the floor.

You let out a discrete sigh of relief. You're off the hook.

But obviously he knows what you did. His scarf shouldn't even be out of his bag, as he packed it at the bottom. His keys, lipstick and wallet should be the first to leave, yet it remained safely in the toppled bag because you flipped everything upside down while being a nosy person.

Plus, it was zipped up in the first place.

If he didn't want you peering in, he would have hidden it under your bed.

You got down on your knees and helped him collect the items. You dumped it back into the handbag, but Yves nonchalantly pulled it all back out to organize them himself.

"Thank you." He stood back up and securely placed it on your nightstand.

He turned to you and crowded you against the bed. Yves slid his hands under your chin, where the pulse is, checking your temperature by touch. You flinch and squirm because you're ticklish, but he paid no mind to it.

"You're having a fever." He noted. You release a baited breath when he lets you go, reaching for something inside his handbag.

You watch him unscrew the lid of his thermos cup. There isn't any particular Colour to the liquid. But there was a faint fruity scent emanating from it. The ice cubes bob around the mystery fluid. He also produced a metal straw which he plunged into the drink, you must have missed it when you were rummaging through.

He popped two tablets of paracetamol out of a blister pack and brought them to your lips. It's better to just let him feed you, so you took it in your mouth.

"Take small sips." He brought the straw to you.

The beverage is... salty. And sweet. It's sickeningly fragrant for a drink that's supposed to be enjoyable. Except it's not, it's an electrolyte solution he prepared to make up for the ones you lost. The coldness saved it.

You didn't realize how thirsty you were, he placed the cup in your hands before walking back to the laundry hamper. He opened a drawer and began folding your clothes into a neat stack.

You're starting to think he just likes silence. He has a perfectly functioning pair of expensive earbuds, but he doesn't use them neither does he want to initiate a conversation with you.

You put your drink away and flopped down onto your bed. You picked up your phone and decided to check your notifications.

You received a number of messages from the group chat with your housemates.

"(name) u gotta get ur bestie to visit more cuz this is the cleanest the kitchen has ever been!!!"

Attached to it is a series of before and after pictures of the entire house. You almost couldn't recognize the place, it was tidy and sparkling clean.

The rest of your housemates agreed in text, telling you that he was such a pleasant conversationalist.

"oh ya idk if hes still here but he made a massive pot of congee for u, its a fuckin banger u should try it" "Damn u lucky as hel to have him take out da trash on ur behalf, that shit was nasty and he did it without gloves too" "His car is still outside, he has got to be here." "oh shiiiittt hes gotta be LOADEDDD with a hot ride like that. where did u find him??" "Omg!! I need his recipe!! Can you ask him for it, pretty please, (name)? Maybe his number too??" "lawlz not u being hornyz on main" "lmaoo fuckin simp" "im not!! :(( he's just so sweet and handsome, im not stealing their man or anything, i just wanna get to know him!! you guys are just mean!!" "whatever u say president desperate"

You read all their text messages that devolved into banterings, looks like all your housemates know him now. You wonder what he talked about with them. What was there to talk about?

You were brought back to reality when you heard him shut the draw. He left your room once more to retrieve something.

Your phone pinged, alerting you of another text message.

"BRUH hes really still here"

Shortly after, you received a picture taken in the kitchen. Looks like the photographer tried to be subtle from its angle.

The photo showed Yves's back as he scoops something from a pot into a bowl, using a metal ladle.

"shit (name) how did u pull such a fine man It's literally 9pm rn" "What time did he come here tho?? Ik i came home at 6 and i saw him mopping the floor" "like 4pm" "FIVE HOURS ?? (NAME) TELL UR BESTIE HES WELCOME HERE ANYTIME WE WILL OPEN THE DOOR FOR HIM"

At least they seem to be less of pricks to you than before, all thanks to Yves. But it's such a shame that it took a good-looking servicing stranger to get them to act nice towards you.

"(Name), you have to eat something." You looked up from your cracked screen to see Yves holding a bowl of steamy congee. He pulled the chair from your desk and sat next to your bed.

"Sit up straight." He caressed the small of your back. You complied with his command while he stacked your pillows to make a backrest.

It has a mild, pleasantly savoury aroma.

He fed you by the spoonful agonizingly slow, you're horrified that you're now used to this gesture. It isn't something you feel flustered about, it just feels... right. It feels normal and it's as if he's done this for your entire life.

You're getting more comfortable with him and that scares the fuck out of you.

You're surprised that it's not making you want to hurl, the meal is actually bettering your stomach and you wanted to eat more even after finishing the entire bowl. It's definitely bland in your dictionary, since it's only seasoned with salt, pepper and freshly made chicken stock. But it was heavenly. And its the only thing you can stomach now.

You asked for more. You were shocked when your request is denied.

"You're full. You are going to vomit if I give you more. That's enough for now, I'll give you another bowl an hour later." He dabbed the corners of your mouth with a facial tissue.

You froze.

He is right. You are full. You wanted more because it tasted great, but you would have thrown it all up again.

It's eerie how he knows you better than you know yourself. And this is only the third time you have spoken to him. This doesn't seem right, does it?

Yves left your room once more to keep the dishes away. Predictably, the group chat blew up with astonished reactions that Yves appeared right before their eyes again.

You massaged your forehead, wondering if you should have been a bit more firm in saying no to Yves. But he just makes you so weak against him.

You checked the time and the digits turned from 9:59pm to 10:00pm.

It's getting very late.

[netflixonyourcouch]

So much has been made of the Halsey response

Thank you Halsey, first and foremost, for an amazing album. I don't want that point to get lost by discussing what is admittedly the NOISE surrounding this album.

The main culprits: Pitchfork and Fantano. The long and short of it, for those who are unaware: both Pitchfork and Fantano cruelly and unfairly attacked Halsey's intentions, accusing her of essentially milking their illness for the album and exhibiting "main character syndrome" or some shit. There is no way around it, these were personal attacks, and designed to shock and make a statement against her instead of engage with the project in good faith.

So many people have come out on both sides to either support Halsey or defend Pitchfork/Fantano's right to criticism.

Let me tell you something. You white-washed, hipster ass, elitist ass motherfuckers who think indie music is so superior to pop music (and liking Charli's BRAT doesn't count, you bandwagon bitches) need to get a life. All of you. You're NOT the smartest in the room, you're not smarter than Halsey fans, you're not more cultured, more correct, or even more logical. You pride yourselves on that because you've already made up your mind about pop music and refuse to bend, and I'm here to tear down that smug sense of superiority.

You fucking chumps have the gall to say, "What? People aren't allowed to criticize music anymore" Blah blah blah. Stop going to one end of the extreme every fucking time someone wants to put your bullshit "criticism" in its place. You all sound like fucking Republicans lmfao, ignorant as fuck. Republicans cry about "free speech being cancelled" because they can't say racist shit anymore. Yall cry about criticism being "dead" because you can't openly denigrate pop stars anymore.

You can't say ignorant, close-minded, sexist, rockist bullshit and act like nobody is allowed to call it out. Genuine criticism ISN'T THE ISSUE. Petty, personal and short-sighted attacks on Halsey's character IS THE ISSUE. Until you stop at the stop sign and ACKNOWLEDGE THIS FACT, I don't wanna hear anything else about defending the "right to criticize." Present criticism in good faith and then we'll talk.

I can talk about this shit BECAUSE I'VE BEEN THERE. I used to run in the same little cliques as yall. I'm so glad I'm no longer like you fucking pricks anymore because you are all insufferable people. I feel frankly embarrassed that I was ever that pretentious and condescending and I pray that all of you wake up and understand the error of your ways. THERE IS STILL TIME, the irony is that your refusal to keep an open mind about pop music means that you're NOT the so-called "music experts" that you think you are. If you were true music experts you'd be experts about ALL MUSIC not just white people with guitars. Again, CHARLI DOESN'T COUNT. CARLY RAE JEPSEN DOESN'T COUNT, YOU SOUND LIKE THE WHITE PEOPLE THAT SAY THAT SAY THEY CAN'T BE RACIST BECAUSE THEY HAVE 2 BLACK FRIENDS. It's the joke about being US sports teams calling themselves "World Champions" when they are only playing in an American league. You're not an expert on "music" while simultaneously ACTIVELY IGNORING A BIG CHUNK OF MUSIC.

You're also attempting to outsmart all the backlash by saying "Just because Halsey talks about their sickness doesn't make it a great album!!!" Let me address that claim and then I'm done with your faux-intellectual fucks, who again I'd like to remind, are not as smart as yall think. Some of you cobbled a few more brain cells together, I'll give you that, and think that this is the ultimate "gotcha" but it's not. Let's start with the elephant in the room: 1. Many of you who are saying all this shit against Halsey HAVEN'T EVEN HEARD THE ALBUM YET. So until you listen to it, I'm not even entertaining any of your fucking arguments because it's coming from a place of literal ignorance. You don't even know what the album sounds like!! 2. If you DID listen to it, it's a strong chance you didn't digest it. NO I'm not saying it's this ultra challenging piece of work that's difficult to understand, I'm instead arguing you skimmed it, didn't listen closely enough or went in with a strong bias to where you're not even in the position to hear its greatness.

Yes, it's a technically right statement that simply talking about a deep or emotional topic doesn't automatically make a work of art great. The reason why that doesn't apply here is that she DID make a great album. I like her last album more but there's no denying that this is right behind it, and in some parts even better. Not every song is my favorite, but there's no way around it, there are some PHENOMENAL songs on here: I Believe in Magic, The Arsonist, The End, Dog Years, Ego, Darwinism, and Lonely is the Muse are all better than your standard indie singer-songwriter stuff.

Finally, I've seen this over and over again: People like to overapply the rules to artists they don't like. I've seen it with Taylor too, who I admittedly don't like, but people tend to be super uncharitable toward her too. You'd NEVER disparage Sufjan for talking about his struggles with Guillain-Barre or try to say, "Just because he talks about Guillain-Barre doesn't make it a great album!" It simply wouldn't happen. So stop this rules-for-thee-but-not-for-me hypocrisy bullshit and try to get a fucking clue, please.

In short. I won't sit silently anymore as people in the indie community try to self-assure themselves that Halsey fans are the crazy ones for calling out cheap, personal attacks under the guise of "criticism." Yes, I'm sure you all are assuring yourselves that "stan twitter" is the problem and "people can't criticize music anymore" but I need all of you to wake up and get a clue, THERE IS STILL TIME, if you love music try actually opening your mind for a change and LOVE MUSIC instead of parading around your indie music bias as if it's the only correct take there can be. Try to get some more pop music in your diet before you criticize pop music. I wouldn't expect someone who likes two hip-hop artists to give good constructive criticism on hip-hop any more than I'd be able to give good constructive criticism on a jazz album just because I like Thundercat and Flying Lotus.

This was long-winded and aggressive but I'm sorry, I'm tired of pretending it's okay that hipster motherfuckers do this shit. I can't do it anymore.

[amazing-spider-man-book-club]

The Amazing Spider-Man #8

Published: January 1964

Containing: "The Terrible Threat of The Living Brain!", "Spider-Man Tackles the Torch!"

Introducing: The Living Brain

Synopsis: Peter's mutual antagonism with Flash Thompson reaches a boiling point at the same time a new supercomputer is shown off at their high school, and disastrous shenanigans ensue. Spider-Man decides to harass the Human Torch at the latter's home which results in a drag-out fight.

Read alongside us here:

@frankendykes-monster : Woof, this one is an oddball of an issue. Our first issue since Amazing Fantasy #15 without any proper villain, though that doesn't make things any easier for Peter. I think The Living Brain is "quaint". There's no functional reason for it to have arms and gyroscopic movement even if it is designed to look like a person but that's the charm. It's green and gold and full of flashing lights! I highly doubt it could accurately tell who Spider-Man is if it didn't have a comprehensive census of NYC but logic is already stretched thin here. The fact that the two guys who were hired to move the computer around have typical "ugly" designs really rubs me the wrong way, like wow only pretty people can get decent jobs or don't resort to crime (Ditko's future fascist politics were punching the glass here).

This issue is sort of the crescendo of Peter's feuding with Flash Thompson; you really get the sense that the latter genuinely hates Peter with the fury and intensity of his insults in this story. You could do anything in high school prior to anti-bullying campaigns, including threatening to break your classmate's jaw and having the teacher say to settle things with a boxing match.

I'm really not sure what to make of the fact that so much of this story hinges on coincidence from Peter holding back but still managing to knock Flash out, to Flash waking up in time to knock the two guys out, to everyone forgetting about the coded paper with Spider-Man's identity on it. It makes for an unusual read that makes you think "oh wait this *is* a Spider-Man comic" when Peter finally suits up in one of the more interesting fights so far this series. The Living Brain is a genuine computer that can outsmart its opponents and recognize patterns, something that not a lot of intelligent machines in comics acted like at the time.

We also have our final back-up story of the series, this one by Jack Kirby. I can't tell if this was another one that was originally intended to run in Amazing Fantasy or not but it feels like it regardless. It's less driven by narrative and more set-up for an extensive fight between Spider-Man and The Human Torch, so the former is woefully out of character (Peter at this point isn't the type to just want to start shit because he can) and both of their power sets are a bit ill-defined this early on. Spider-Man can make a crochet bat, parachutes, and wings on the fly with his webbing, and The Human Torch can create infra-red spotlights and definite shapes like buzz saws. It feels like a throwback to just a year or two earlier when the characters would just be able to do stuff because it would be visually interesting, but it can be a bit eye rolling now.

@duel1971 : There’s a subplot in this story about Peter having a boxing match with Flash Thompson that I found to be better than the bits about the Living Brain. A robot capable of determining Spider-Man’s secret identity is kind of interesting, but that quickly gets abandoned in favor of Peter physically fighting the robot. The Living Brain’s design is kind of goofy and top-heavy and it doesn’t make for a very convincing threat despite the decidedly decent action sequence.

That boxing match, though. Peter’s anger at Flash’s bullying being contrasted with Peter’s unwillingness to hurt Flash in the fight is so interesting. I’m sure my editor would remember better than me, but I think this is the first time the series has seriously explored Peter having to use care when employing his powers against ordinary people. The drama of all that combined with an incredible shot of Peter bridal carrying a knocked-out Flash makes for a very compelling slice of our hero’s personal life.

Jack Kirby! If I’m not mistaken this isn’t too different from Peter’s other tussles with the Fantastic Four, but it’s a fun little fight where we get to see Spider-Man as more of a rogue than usual. There is a moment between Peter and Sue Storm towards the end that hints at Peter reconciling with the group and maybe even dating Sue, which I hope means the next crossover doesn’t end in violence. We’ll see!

[thecherrytarot]

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐒 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

pile 1 → pile 2 → pile

a 'masked self' is the mask that you put on in front of other people and your 'real self' is the version that you rarely show and hide from others. pick the photo you feel the most drawn to and please remember that this is a general reading so take what resonates!!

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏:

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟:

some of you may be out of touch with your feelings. you may act like feelings are a distraction from achieving your objective. it's not like you completely neglect them, you have good control over them and know when to set them aside to make use of your logical brain. you may have had to take responsibility for the house from a young age because someone failed to take theirs (?) you have a strong sense of what is right and wrong and are very honest about it. sometimes you are offensive but brush it off as people just being "too sensitive for this harsh world". not gonna lie it gives those 'alpha/sigma' vibes. you may unintentionally want to gain power over others because you feel like only THEN will things go right and there will be a balance. due to this, people might think that you are a "cold-hearted person" but you are just trying to stay true to your principles. this self of you has a huge ego and may even show signs of anger issues.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟:

you ARE someone with great inner strength and you DO have great leadership skills, it's just that you lost your way over the years. you may be too lost in your own thoughts and beliefs. there was little to no support from your family (alcoholic parents) and you may have to deal with things on your own, especially on a financial level. due to this, you didn't have time for the emotional side and now you are the 'strange antisocial' person. you may take aggressive control of things because you are afraid of financial failure or just failure in general. "I have lost so many things so many times and now i can't afford to lose the things i am left with" you care deeply for others around you and try your best to show them that, its just that you may not know the best way to do that. your unhealthy ego is just a way to protect yourself from all your insecurities. you always had to be the strong and dependent one and now you don't know how to show emotions and weaknesses. some of may even be patients of mental illness

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟:

Some of you may have gone through many difficult times and carry the knowledge of your experiences to make decisions and help others by giving advice. People see you as someone who is optimistic despite all the troubles that you faced. I am not sure what these troubles are but they may be related to you moving and changing places constantly or you having to make some kind of huge sacrifice in your life for something bigger. I am not getting a clear message but I heard someone saying "if it was me, I couldn't have done that. you are so brave". Some of you are often the centre of attention and know how to have real fun. people enjoy being around you because you are always down to do something to do exciting. Despite all this sometimes you feel like you are misunderstood and excluded from the people that you give your energy. You are someone who adapts to changes quickly (maybe because some of you faced a lot of instability). you don't let setbacks hold you down, in fact, you come back stronger than before. You are someone who loves deeply but doesn't feel ready to face your feelings. you rather have intellectual connections with people rather than a physical ones.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟:

You are someone who is educated in a lot of things and a wise teacher to your friends and family. You want to be someone that others can depend upon because some of you were alone when suffering and now you don't want anyone that you know and love to go through what you went through. Even then some of you may think that the world was against you and that you also deserved to have someone by your side but lowkey in a victim-complex way. You have little control over your emotions and may even suffer from low self-esteem. You feel like an imposter wherever you go, this could be a reason why you are afraid of being successful (but at the same time you don't wanna fail). Another reason might be social anxiety or maybe some of you suffer from some sort of mental illness. maybe this was the misunderstanding from your 'masked self' people think that despite all that you went through you are doing fine but you want to tell them you are not doing, you feel like you are anything but fine and that you didn't deserve any of things that you went through and deserved to live a "normal" life like everyone else. Also, people always come to you for advice or when they are bored but when it's your turn you feel like no one is there for you.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟:

I feel like there is little difference between your masked and real self. Some of you may act a bit distant from others because you have other more important things to focus on. Due to this people think that you are someone who is arrogant and that you have low self-esteem. you are just protecting your peace because you get angry quite easily. you are more on the stubborn side because and too comfortable in your comfort zone which isn't a healthy one. It's not like you don't completely want to change, it's just that you feel exhausted to deal with the change that will come.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟:

yeah, it's not much different from your other self. you are someone who is tired of life's ups and downs. You feel like luck is never on your side and you are always in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time. Some of you wish you lived in the past or that you could relive your past to make different choices. You aren't someone who is arrogant or lazy though, you do try to love and grow but get held back by your own shortcomings. Some of you want to move to a new place to have a new start but for some reason, you cannot do that. This could be because your family didn't support your ideas due to financial issues. You might have lost your way in this mess. You are not getting what you need and you might find that you are on the wrong path. " Lord must have been generous to you. He never answers any of my prayers. I don't know why- what did I do? What is wrong with me? Please just tell me so I can get better" this dialogue from the movie Pearl came to my mind so take however that suits you.

[catbunblue302]

Wrote all this out for a Youtube comment and then realized that Tumblr would probably like it too.

"I really don't understand why this is such a controversial topic. Chatbots shouldn't exist. Full stop. There is no nuance to this because there is absolutely no way to proceed from here that makes the use of AI chatbots ethical.

I'll start with the most relevant point to the issue. People are going to get hurt using them. The most likely candidates for this is children and the mentally ill. Yes, as a mentally stable, mature human being, you are fully aware that the bot is not human. But it reacts like one. The human brain anthropomorphizes things. That's just what it does. As an example, look up some of the history around people filming with Muppets. Even though people can see the "wizard behind the curtain" it is very easy to forget that fact and slip into the mentality of "the thing I am talking to is real. It has real human emotions and opinions. I can form a bond with this thing." I can only imagine how much easier it is to fall into that mindset if you don't have a good support system around you, especially when the set-up of chatbots is made to look so similar to any other DM system.

I've seen people comparing this issue to violent video games or stuff like D&D when that could not be any further from the truth. Video games try to be immersive but they don't try to be real. There are pop ups, menu screens, video game logic. At no point is the character looking directly at you and trying to convince you that they're real. There are set dialogue prompts. You can't say whatever you want and have the characters respond like real living people. D&D is always played in a group. There are people there with you to monitor you and ensure that you're not falling into delusion. There is a constant connection to reality though the physical act of rolling the dice and going over your character sheet. And, again, there are REAL people there with you who CAN think and feel and make decisions. Part of the reason why AI chatbots are immoral is because of this. If you roleplay with a person, there's an individual there who can monitor you. Who can call it off if they think you're in danger or going too far. And if that person DOESN'T stop you, and instead encourages you? We can hold them accountable for your death. By the very nature of AI, there is no one to hold accountable.

I am all for having a safe place to vent your emotions, for being able to explore dark topics in a controlled manner, but there is a reason why most dangerous activities have a buddy system built in. There is a reason why you need a valid ID to buy alcohol. There is a reason why bleach doesn't come with a straw. Just because you don't need the handrails, doesn't mean we should stop building them because you think they ruin the experience of walking up stairs.

Even putting aside the fact that these machines will kill people and HAVE, there is still no moral way to engage with them. Having chatbots gives companies an excuse not to hire people for call centers and instead replace them with these garbage hunks of code. A single prompt from an AI uses tons of water to cool the computers powering them, along with using massive amounts of fossil fuel powered energy, causing ever more pollution. Using an AI chatbot is no different than engaging in fast fashion or buying all new holiday decorations every year. Don't buy things that will go straight to a landfill. Don't engage in helping to destroy the planet when there are viable alternatives such as talking to a real person. Or just using your goddamn imagination like people have been doing since the dawn of time.

AI chatbots work by scraping the data from fanfiction, many of which the authors did not consent to having their works used in this way. This has been an issue long before AI, but people tend to look at artists as content mills. As dancing monkeys for their own personal amusement. Because of today's culture of constant stimulation on demand, if we stop dancing for even one moment, our audience will move over to the We Kill Dancing Monkeys And Puppet Their Frankenstein-Style Corpse On A String company. I'd have to look into it, but I can only imagine commission rates for writers have plummeted with the advent of AI because now people can just get it for free. I don't even want to think about how decimated the actual roleplay community is.

And if you engage with or support AI even while knowing all this, that it's potentially dangerous and destroying the environment and actively harming people's livelihoods, then yes, I do believe you are fundamentally a bad person. If you've used AI in the past but hadn't considered or known about some of my talking points, that's fine. Now you do. Now stop and make better informed choices. For any AI supporters who still believe that they are in the right or that they're not harming anyone: honestly, just get away from me. I don't want to talk to you. I barely even want to exist in the same world as you."

[dlanadhz]

Last Twilight Ending Reaction

As someone who can't see without a strong prescription, I really felt connected to Day's struggle. How his vision was shown is like mine but with that extra level of fuzzy. I can't see further than a palm's distance either. The longer the show went on, the more I noticed myself in the way Day did certain things - like leaning in way too close to see things and patting his hand around to find an item he knows is around there somewhere.

Obviously Day was worse than me. I put on my glasses every morning and go about my day. I don't need a caretaker. But without my glasses, we are so similar.

So I spent a good portion of the show wondering why the heck Day didn't get glasses for the time he was waiting on a potential surgery. They never explained that glasses wouldn't work for him, so it seems like a logical step to try.

Because of this, and because corrective eye surgery is actually so common, I walked into this show on day 1 fully ready to accept an ending where Day got his eye surgery and was able to see again.

We spent 12 episodes following Day's journey of learning to accept himself as he was, disability or not. He learned how to love his life, how to care more about the people around him, how to appreciate the things around him - not just what he could see. He gained a new understanding of who he was and what he needed to be happy.

Episode 12 has whole speeches about how going blind is the only reason Day knows how to be happy and what he truly wants out of life. This a beautiful message that we got throughout the whole series. He was loved when he was blind. He was loved when it seemed he would stay that way forever. He accepted himself and loved himself. And he was still loved when he got his sight back. He became a better person.

So to come online and see the absolute vitriol being thrown around like somehow this ending ruins the entire series, like somehow him getting a very realistic eye surgery to correct damage done in an accident erases all the character growth and the message of loving yourself, finding people who love you regardless of illness or disability, and appreciating the world around you....

It's really ruining the show for me. Day's surgery didn't do that. The fans are doing that.

Day getting his sight back does not erase his experience as a blind person. Just like a cast and pt doesn't erase your experience with a broken leg. Just like time and healing doesn't erase your experience with traumatic brain injuries. Just like getting a prosthetic doesn't erase the experience of losing a limb.

Like, damn. Someone get me some eye surgery pronto. It still won't change the last 27 years of my life.

And to suggest that bad things should happen to the director for such a choice is a really terrible thing to do.

When I saw Day looking at Mhok while they knelt by Rung's grave, I felt overwhelmed with emotion, because Day has been wanting to see clearly for so long and here he was, staring lovingly at his boyfriend - the boyfriend who chose to be with him despite everything. I thought it was beautiful.

And all these haters are really making it hard to even search for gifs. I wanted to roll around in the joy and emotion of the episode, but there are too many people treating it like a god damned funeral protest.