#don't practice these things or in most cases condone them!

[widowshill]

happy aro week to everyone who celebrates. give your local aro a hundred dollars to compensate for their suffering (me).

[moonchild701]

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Train Stalker: Part 1- On the Train

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Part 2

Summary: Your stalker follows you onto the train, taking advantage of the crowded place.

But it turns out he's someone familiar to you.

Pairing: Stalker Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Sexual Assault, Chikan, Noncon Groping and touching, Turns Consensual, Dubcon, Public Sex, Public Transportation(Train), Fingering, Humiliation, Degradation, Self Degradation and Blaming, Victim Blaming, Stalking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Word Count: 3k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: Had this in my drafts for a while, contemplating to post it lol

I Do Not condone this, Stalking or Assault. I don't think I should have to say that, but just in case. Don't Like? Don't Read.

My Masterlist

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You don't really want to go to this company dinner.

What with the constant judging and personal questions, not to mention the token creepy guy, it's just never worth it.

But your only work friend begged you to come, and you're unfortunately inclined to be a good friend, so here you are on the train, on your way to the venue.

There was an accident on one of the main subway lines, and traffic is horrible and rush hour is still unforgivingly a thing.

There's so many people confined in this one small subway carriage, you're practically packed like sardines. You'd gotten on early, before the influx of people, and it would be a good thing if it wasn't for that fact that you just might spend the rest of the ride sandwiched between the mass of bodies and the corner walls of the carriage.

Things are somewhat bearable for a while. You zone out, trying to think of a passable excuse to get out of this thing that would maybe make your friend believe you.

When nothing comes to mind, your thoughts stray again, this time to your most likely stalker. You sometimes feel eyes following you, lingering for a bit too long. The gaze burns, yet you could never find where it comes from. Even today, as you left your apartment, you could feel them watching you.

And of course, when you went to report it, you were written off as "paranoid" and "imaginative".

Useless fucks.

Before you can dwell on it further, the train lurches, making the crowd shuffle and push, and you end up being further plastered to the wall.

You push back against the people surrounding you in an attempt to reclaim some of your space, only to freeze when you feel a hand pressing against the small of your back.

Your first thought that comes to mind is that you really hate public transportation.

Your second is that the hand is big and warm.

A lump forms in your throat as you swallow your voice. You decide to give the stranger the benefit of the doubt, hoping that it's just an accident; a misunderstanding, as you wait for them to pull away.

But instead, the stranger moves his hand down, resting it on your ass; and squeezes.

A gasping yelp escapes your throat, which goes unheard in the drowning noise of the train and surrounding people.

You curse under your breath as you feel a weight settle over you, pushing you even closer to the wall, till you're completely trapped between the corner and a broad chest; the heat and pressure of the stranger's body suffocating and overwhelming.

You can't believe this is happening.

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm down, contemplating your options.

Maybe someone will notice.

You try to look behind you at the packed carriage, but you can only see a black hoodie and a tall frame. Dread washes over you as you realize the stranger's body is completely shielding you from the view of the other passengers; from the posssibility of someone noticing what is happening.

You know. You know you should scream out for help, but you just can't bring yourself to. The thought of bringing attention to yourself like this, to reveal what you've allowed to happen to you is...humiliating.

There's a fleeting thought to defend yourself, but your body is completely frozen; the fear keeping you rooted in place.

And all you can do is clench your eyes and grit your teeth as you feel a second hand move up to grip at your hip, holding you in place, as the first slips beneath your skirt, sliding up your thigh to your underwear.

"Oh?"

You flinch upon hearing the stranger speak, low and breathy, right into your ear. His voice is deep and rough, his breath hot on your skin.

There's a passing thought that he sounds vaguely familiar, but it's quickly pushed aside as he continues.

"Lingerie in public, hm?" His fingers toy with the fabric of your panties, tracing the delicate lace; and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he taunts, "Slut."

A mix of shame and indignation runs through you, yet your body heats up as the stranger continues to play with your underwear.

Hot breath against your neck, mouth dangerously close to the tender skin, sends goosebumps along your skin. An involuntary shiver goes up your spine when his fingers slither underneath your panties, trailing over the soft, round flesh of your ass, his touch feather-light.

A pathetic, whimpering sound of refusal spills out of your quivering lips, which is of course ignored.

Your eyes sting when the stranger's lips meet your neck; his mouth closing around the tender flesh, rough skin and metal...piercings?...grazing your skin. An embarrassing little sound catches in your throat when he licks and sucks at your pulse, marking you. It dissolves into a sob when the hand on your hip slides up your shirt, slipping under your bra to fondle and grope your breasts, and something terrifyingly close to a moan slips past your lips when a thumb brushes over your nipples. Traitorous jolts of arousal run through your body, pleasure clouding your senses.

You come back to yourself when you feel him pressing against you, his chest warm against your back, and something twitching against your lower back and oh fuck that's his dick.

You let out a pathetic little whimper at that, and then you feel his fingers begin to trail along your inner thighs and slide further up between your legs, and a mix of dread and anticipation washes over you as they reach your crotch.

"Look how wet you are," he hums into your ear, fingers brushing up and down your slit through your soaked panties, and you can't help the feeling of shame and disgust with yourself when you realize just how aroused you are. And how good the touch of this stranger feels. "Fucking slut... You actually want this, hm?"

"N-no," you choke out, "I-I don't—,please—"

"Shh, be quiet, Y/N. We don't want to make a scene, yeah?", the stranger coos, voice a soft murmur, yet tinted with the threat of danger, as he gives a squeeze to your tit. Your heart speeds up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you freeze at the sound of your name, spilling like honey from this stranger's mouth.

This man knows you.

This wasn't random.

You were targeted.

Your mind races at that, and you hysterically think to yourself, 'Well, I found my stalker! Useless! Fucks!'

Yet it does nothing to curb the steady arousal licking up your spine as a heated, sleek finger pulls your panties to the side and runs along your slick folds, your body trembling. Anticipation and fear pool in your tummy, yet it's drowned out by the hot, shameful arousal there.

You suck in a sharp breath as you feel the tip of his finger prodding at your entrance, petting at it, before slipping in with embarrassing ease; you clench around the intrusion, but you're so wet that it does little to stop his finger from making a home in your tight heat.

With a bitten off whimper, you scramble for something to hold onto along the uselessly smooth wall as he slowly pumps the thick digit into you.

Almost too soon, he pushes in a second finger, his other hand still tugging and pinching at your nipples, and you desperately try to swallow your moans.

Which is futile as he slowly thrusts them inside you, curling his fingers and caressing your walls, and stretching you, scissoring you open so good.

Long and thick, the stranger's fingers reach all the right places, making you squirm and shake, and your hand clamps around your mouth as you feel a whimpering moan bubbling up your throat,

Your neglected clit aches to be touched, as he finally adds a third finger and you gasp at the delicious stretch; his hot fingers rubbing at your walls making you melt.

He breathes heavily into your neck as you squirm against him, the slow thrusts maddening. He gradually speeds up, into something rough and mouth-watering, fucking his fingers into you at an intense, mind numbing rhythm; the obscene squelching sounds of your soaked cunt as it's stuffed so good just barely getting drowned out by the rattling of the train.

The satisfaction practically drips off of the stranger's voice like honey, thick and sweet, as he hums into your skin, "Fuck, that's it, such a good girl for me..."

You can't help the whimpering moan that escapes through your covered mouth, that specific wording along with the man's deep voice sending liquid heat through you, even as mortification goes along with it. You clench around his fingers, rocking your hips down to chase the sweet friction, lost in the pleasure. The announcer's voice echoing through the carriage is a small mercy, masking your desperate cries as you throw your head back when he hits your sweet spot.

It's fucking mortifying, getting aroused by being assaulted on the train. And to the point where you're turned into a needy, whimpering mess of a slut, is achingly, deliciously humiliating.

You shake, eyes wide with pleasure, and you catch a glance at part of his face.

Your hips stutter to a halt even as his fingers keep going; your breath catches in your throat and you swear your heart simultaneously freezes and tries to beat out of your chest.

Because you recognize him.

You know who this man is.

And how could you not?

Dark scars along his throat and jaw, staples holding it to smooth, healthy skin, who else could it be?

You look up further and your heart lurches as your eyes lock on burning blue, the same ones you've always reluctantly found breathtakingly gorgeous, ever since you first saw them in a dingy bar last year, up close and personal before being kissed stupid, drunk and horny, and then again in his video detailing his life.

The villain Dabi grins down at you when he sees you looking at him; a devilish, dangerous thing, all heat and sharp edges, as his fingers curl, making your breath hitch.

"Missed me, Doll?"

You never did quite forget how he pressed against you, heat and tantalising danger wafting off him; smelling of smoke and sandalwood, tasting of cheap beer and something sweet.

Not getting further than making out and heavy petting, for whatever reason, this is the first time you truly had his hands on you.

And you can't deny the late hours of the nights, after seeing him on the news, bloody and wild eyed, surrounded by his pretty, blue flames that set your heart alight with awe at its beauty, with sweat coating your skin and a hand slipped between your thighs; can't deny that it's his name you cry and chase in your pleasure on those nights.

Yet, this couldn't be real.

It couldn't be.

You swallow dryly. Without thought, the word spills out, a whisper of a thing.

"D...Dabi?" your voice is small and disbelieving, yet so sweetly hopeful.

His fingers slow down, and he smiles, amused and smug.

Scalding lips brush the shell of your ear. "Mhmm.", is the rumbling confirmation and you sag back against him, subconciously rolling your hips.

"Dabi—" you choke out, confusion and arousal warring within as you try to grasp what the fuck is happening right now.

Your voice melts into a whimper as you feel his fingers move faster again and you clench around them as they rub and curl inside you, exploring every inch of your walls in a way that has your hips bucking down to meet him, desperate for more despite your questions.

Because right now, the man you've wanted for so long, your guilty pleasure, is knuckles deep inside of you, and fuck if you're going to deny yourself that, but you want answers dammit.

"Why—mmn—why are you—" you struggle to speak around the moans and pleasure, "—why are y-you here, doing thi—ahn—this?"

His replying chuckle is low and dark in your ear, his answer making your knees buckle.

"I've been watching you for a while now, Sweetheart. And I never did get a taste of this sweet cunt." he accentuates his words with a grind to your sweet spot that has you seeing stars.

And you're suddenly very grateful that you're cornered against the wall; because you know that your eyes are wide, blown and hazy, lips parted and face flushed, and you don't know if you could take the look in his eyes if he sees the slutty, debaunched expression on your face at his words.

Though, he doesn't even need to see it to know, not when he hears the wanton little sounds you let out as he fucks his fingers in and out of your tight heat. 

His thumb brushing over your throbbing clit has you biting down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out, the touch sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body.

"You always look fuckin' hot but today," he breathes into your neck, his voice dark and rough, exhilarating in the best of ways, as he punctuates the last word with a grind against you, the thought of his hard cock so close yet so far is almost enough to make you lose your goddamn mind, before growling out, "Today, you look fuckin' edible."

Heat washes over you at the depraved praise as you let out a tinny whimper.

"Oh fuck," you breathe out, high-pitched and needy. The thought that he's been watching you all this time, wanting you all this time, added to the sensations ravaging your body to the point it's almost too much, and you're just on that precipice, heat coiling low in your tummy.

You desperately clutch at his scarred wrist as his pace quickens into a near brutal rhythm, fingers simultaneously fucking into your pussy and rubbing at your clit, while his other hand fondles and kneads your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between the rough pads of his fingers, and it's just all so much, so good.

The pleasure is overwhelming, he is overwhelming, in all of the best ways they could be. His smoky scent, his deep voice, his filthy words, the feel and heat of him against you, the fingers that play you with the ease and prescision of a pianist; his very pressence electric, his every touch incendiary.

"Such a good girl for me, baby, so fuckin' wet for me, so fuckin' pretty..." he groans, muttering into the crook of your neck where he's nuzzling his face into, as his hips jerk forward, pressing and grinding his clothed erection against your ass.

Feeling him so big, so hard against you, for you, you moan; high and needy, dizzy with lust, wishing you could feel it stretching your insides instead of his fingers, pulsing and hot. That thought has you shaking, your eyes rolling back, vision going white, as you go limp; the only things now keeping you up are your shaky, braced hands against the wall and his hold on you, and you feel like a bubble just about to burst.

"Aww, you gonna cum for me, Doll?" He whispers almost harshly against your ear, his tone playful and full of sadistic glee. When you nod frantically he laughs, dark and mocking, "Do it baby, lemme see you."

It's exactly what you need.

Your juices drip down your thighs as you clench around him like a vice, and his hand releases your breast to slide up and cup over your mouth to keep you from screaming.

Ecstasy saturates your very blood, and you feel your cunt convulsing, your toes curling, and you reach your peak with a barely muffled cry, your release gushing down your legs.

Any thought of shame at the utter debaunced indecency of what you did and allowed to happen, is forgotten as  pure bliss clouds your senses, sagging back against Dabi's chest, spent.

His body is tense against you, as it takes all of his willpower to not fuck you right then and there in front of everyone, but he wants you to himself, so he endures; breathing heavily into your neck as he mutters, voice strained and husky, "Good girl."

If you could, you would come all over again just from that.

You moan softly as he pulls his fingers out, bringing it to the front of your face to see them glistening in your juices, sticky and stringy where he spreads them, before bringing them up and back. Your eyes helplessly follow them as he brings it to his mouth, lapping at them with a soft groan.

Your chest heaves at the sight as you stand there, dizzy and in disbelief, catching your breath.

He grins, a cheeky little thing, "I said I never got a taste."

You just stare at him, trying to wrap your mind around what the hell just happened; so out of it, you almost don't notice the train slowing down, announcing your arrival to yet another station......and you notice that you missed your stop.

Shit.

Though before you could panic, he speaks into your ear.

"This is our stop, Sweetheart."

Heart racing, you turn around to face him, after he steps back, allowing you space. Flushed and confused, you hastily fix your clothes to be somewhat presentable as you look up at him; at his dilated pupils and the unmistakable hunger in his eyes as he watches you intently.

And you realize what he means. The sweet, titillating promise in his words and what he plans to do with you: to you.

Once you do, you don't even have to think about it before you agree.

As the train comes to a halt and the crowd of people rush out of the carriage, you let Dabi lead you out to the platform, your veins thrumming with excitement.

So much for being a good friend, but you'll just have to apologize to her tomorrow.

You're finally going to have what you've been craving.

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[hayakawalove]

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

Summary: You're happy with your husband, you swear. Except you actually aren't. You're so unhappy in fact, that you find yourself in a cheap bar late one night. Two men find you, and it leads to a night of fun.

A/N: Yeah. It goes without saying that I DON'T CONDONE CHEATING! I don't know why I wrote this. I actually used to really hate cheating fics, so much so that I would filter the tag out. They used to trigger me super bad. I'm not sure why I wrote this. Maybe as a way of doing exposure therapy, maybe just to practice writing things I normally don't write. Whatever the case is, here you go. I hope y'all enjoy! As always, I appreciate your guys comments so much, seriously!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Cheating (You Cheat on Your Husband), Hand Jobs, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Protected Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Praise Kink, Cum Swallowing, Hook-Up, No Strings Attached, Reader Feels Bad (Doesn't Last Long), Hair-pulling, Female Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 6,154

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

You’re happy. 

You really are. 

Those are the words you find yourself repeating like a mantra, a self assuring prayer on a loop in your mind. 

You have a great life. 

A wonderful job, a nice house, the perfect husband. 

People live their entire lives searching for what you’ve been so graciously dealt. 

So why did it feel like you were lying to yourself when you repeated that mantra? 

The words felt uneasy in your mind at first, the weight of them feeling unknown on your tongue. You’d never really thought about it before. Were you happy? The more you told yourself that you were, the more the saying turned your stomach sour. 

You were happy. You were happy. You were happy. 

You weren’t happy. 

At first, it began like a tingle in the back of your throat. Not disruptive, but most certainly there, no matter how hard you tried to get rid of it. It was the most obvious when you felt like you should be grateful for something.

Before going to bed at night, finishing a big project at work, when your husband kissed your cheek. 

The doubt simmers in your gut, barely a blip on your radar.

It was hardly noticeable, until it wasn’t. 

The thought became a raging forest fire, drowning out all your other senses. Every day was the same. It was so boring. Nothing lit a spark in you. 

You weren’t sure how to even remedy it. Not only that, but you would listen to your friends talk about their lives, and how it was monotonous for them as well. Maybe life just had to be like this. 

There’s a pit in your stomach as you walk to your car. You really didn’t want to go home tonight. Not when you knew your loving husband would be waiting for you; not when you knew you had all the reasons in the world to be happy, but you just weren’t. 

“Hey, sexy lady!” A man’s voice rings out around you. 

When you flick your head around you see a man who’s much older than you sizing you up. Your knee jerk reaction is to be disgusted, but you aren’t, not fully at least. 

You’re flattered. 

When was the last time someone paid you a compliment like that? Your husband told you you were beautiful all the time, but it felt rehearsed, like the words had lost their meaning. Sure, a stranger calling you sexy was a bit half assed, but at least it was real.

“Thank you! But I’m married-“ you reply, even though the man is long gone by now. 

You straighten your shoulders and open your car door, accepting the fluke. 

~~~

You’re craving the attention again. 

You feel like an addict craving their next hit. You didn’t want anything else, other than a bit of attention from a stranger. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

Over the next couple of days you craft a plan. You were going to get dressed up and go to a bar, nothing major. You just wanted to put yourself in a situation where you could receive attention, maybe get a couple of compliments. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Your husband texted you to inform you that he would be at the office late tonight. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that shoots through you when you tell him that it’s okay, you wouldn’t be doing much anyway. 

Liar.

The dress you’re wearing feels a bit too tight, fitting to your form like another layer of skin. You hadn’t worn it in years. There never was any need to. You and your husband didn't go on dates much anymore, instead choosing to settle down for movie nights or dinner. 

Your makeup is more extreme than usual. It highlights all your favorite features, and the colors are a bit dramatic. Even though it felt different, you had to admit that you looked good. 

You fiddle with your ring, watching the way it catches the light. Reluctantly, you pull it off and put it in your purse. You feel naked not wearing it. Hopefully, more people would compliment you if you didn’t have it on.

You sling your purse over your shoulder and turn your phone off, you wouldn’t be needing it anyway, sliding your high heels on. 

The bar you decide on is on the furthest edge of town, in a much seedier neighborhood. On any chosen day you wouldn’t be caught dead on this side of town, and neither would any of your loved ones. Which is precisely why you chose to be there in the first place. 

Nobody would recognize you. Not that it would be a problem if they did, you remind yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong. 

The bar is loud as you enter, eager voices discussing a variety of topics over cheap alcohol. The smell of liquor is strong, the astringent scent nearly burning the inside of your nostrils. 

You slide over to the counter and take a seat on one of the rickety stools. It’d be a miracle if it doesn’t break under your weight, it looks like it’s two seconds from collapsing on its own. 

You order a mixed drink and smile as the bartender passes it to you, your heart fluttering at the way he grins back. 

Validation springs throughout your body. It feels like you’re being rejuvenated, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

See? What you were doing wasn’t so bad. 

“What's a fine young thing like yourself doing over here?” 

When you turn around to catch a glimpse of the man shamelessly hitting on you, you feel your stomach turn. You had never seen someone so attractive before. 

A head full of soft white hair, messy in an almost endearing way. You can’t catch a glimpse of his eyes due to the sunglasses that rest on his nose. On anyone else it would come off as douchey, it was dark out and you were inside a bar, but for him it seemed oddly fitting. 

There’s a cocky grin on his face as he leans against the counter where you sit. He’s close enough that you can smell the soap he used to scrub himself with. An intoxicating scent, cedarwood and bergamot.

“Enjoying some alone time.” You reply, deciding on playing hard to get. 

It would be nice to see him continue to try, even if you didn’t make it easy. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just had to tell you how gorgeous you were.” 

He didn’t sound sorry, didn’t look it either.

“I know.” You take a small sip of you drink, staring up at him as you do so. 

You would never be so forward in your day to day life. You much preferred to be humble. Humble was cute, humble was safe. 

You were tired of being safe. 

The strangers lips spread even further and you catch a glimpse of him running his tongue along his teeth. You can’t see, but you feel like he’s staring down at you, gaze assessing your features. You hope he likes what he sees. 

“Sir, can I get another one of these for her?” He flags down the bartender and motions to your drink. 

“I didn’t tell you I wanted another one.” You reply, stirring the drink you’re currently nursing. 

The man beside you raises a brow, before sliding out a wad of cash. He hands it to the bartender without looking away from you, confidence leaking from his pores. 

“You shouldn’t have to. A gentleman should be able to notice.”

You feel a heavy weight drop on top of you. He was right. True gentlemen should take note of the small things, right? 

Your husband hardly ever did. 

The crack inside your heart begins to deepen; you know there’s not going to be a way back from this. Do you mind that you won’t be able to recover? 

No. 

You don’t. 

You grin at him and toss back the rest of your drink before taking the new one from him. It’s cold against your hand, a sickly sweet scent wafting up from the cup. 

“Who’s your little friend?” A second voice enters.

You flick your eyes from the man beside you to see who’s talking. Long black locks and chestnut eyes. 

“Suguru. This is…” The first man talks.

You state your name, nerves beginning to take hold in your chest. When it was just one of them it was fine, but two of them? 

“I’m Satoru Gojo, and this is Suguru Geto.” The original man says. “Pleased to meet you.” He finishes, dipping his face down to look at you above his glasses. 

Electric cerulean greets you, nearly taking your breath away. 

He smirks and pushes his glasses back up before tossing a look over his shoulder towards his friend.

Suguru circles around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes follow his movements. It feels like he’s sizing you up, a dark gleam in his gaze as he settles in the spot beside you.

It feels a bit like the walls are caving in on you, except the metaphorical walls are in the form of two bulky men. 

You wanted attention, that much was true, but you weren’t sure you were ready for this amount. 

“What brings you to this dive bar?” The one called Suguru questions. 

You take a sip of your drink as you ponder a response. What should you tell them? You were here with friends? The truth? 

“Needed to get out of the house.” You decide on. 

Well, it wasn’t completely wrong. 

“So you decided to come to this shit hole?” Satoru says. 

“You decided to come here too, didn’t you?” You reply back.

Satoru looks away, his bottom lip pouting out. It was a shit hole. The two men looked oddly out of place. Their clothes looked to be worth more than half your rent, and there was an effortless elegance flowing from them. You were sure that they belonged anywhere else. 

“We were just passing through town, and this was the first place we found.” Suguru responds for Satoru. 

You wonder how true that statement is. 

Could it be that the both of them are also running away from something in their personal lives? 

You could only hope. 

Maybe it would make you feel less guilty. 

Suguru’s nursing a whiskey now, lips shining in the low light from the tantalizing liquid. It’s a bit hypnotizing, watching the way his lips pucker as he takes measured sips. 

You feel like nothing can break you from the trance you’re in, nothing that is, until something brushes your thighs. It’s Satoru’s fingers, skimming your skin under the guise of tugging your dress down. 

“I like your dress,” Satoru murmurs, his knuckles causing goosebumps to erupt along your thighs. 

You watch as he slowly drags his fingers back, letting your eyes trail up until you reach his face, only to see that he’s already staring at you. 

“Yeah?” You ask, breathless.

Satoru hums and flicks his gaze back down to your legs. There’s lead in your stomach as you watch his pupils flicker. You can only guess what’s on his mind. 

“Say, do you have any plans for the night?” Suguru questions, settling his arm around the back of your chair. 

His thumb brushes against your shoulder, making your breath stagger. The ambiance is more than heavy, a thick understanding settling over the three of you. 

“No, I don't.” You take one last sip of your drink before looking at the boys once more. 

“Want to go have some fun, then?” Satoru asks, an evil glint in his eyes. 

You begin to understand how Eve could not resist the temptation.

“Please,” you all but plead.

You reach a hand out and Satoru laces his fingers in yours, tugging you along until you’re forced to navigate through the crowds in the bar. There’s a heat behind you, and you register it as Suguru’s presence shortly following after you. 

There’s something bubbling up in your stomach, anticipation you think, as you watch the back of Satoru’s head. 

He’s so tall. 

You briefly wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair. Would it be soft? Would he like the way it feels? 

Satoru pushes the bar door open, a gust of wind whipping your face. The sensation almost shocks you to your senses, but Satoru doesn’t allow it. 

He slows down and stops beside you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You’re being tugged beside him, smooshed against his lean frame as he walks you to their car. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” he comments, whispering into the crown of your head. 

Your stomach flips. You think he may be right. 

Suguru walks ahead and spins keys around his fingers before unlocking the car. You’re unable to recognize the brand, only able to see that it’s expensive. 

Satoru opens the passenger door and you’re greeted with fine black leather. It dawns on you that someone’s going to have to sit in the back. 

How was this going to work? 

Were you supposed to sit in the back? 

Wouldn’t that be weird? 

When you come to, you see that Satoru’s already sitting in the front seat, his hand holding yours as he looks up at you with an expectant gaze. 

“Come on.” He murmurs. 

He pulls you closer, spreading his legs to make room for you. He wants you to sit on his lap? 

You look around, noticing how empty the parking lot is. You were already making bad choices, so you figure you may as well go all in. 

You inch in the car, settling on top of his lap. His thighs are warm beneath you, your exposed legs shifting back and forth. He shuts the door, settling his hands on your body while Suguru starts the car. You never once stop to think about how this may be considered dangerous, all you can think about is how you want more of it. 

“Ready, princess?” Suguru’s voice is like velvet as it comes out. 

As ready as you’ll ever be. 

“Yes.” You fake confidence, shining a grin that feels entirely too exaggerated. 

Suguru chuckles and reverses the car, the action fluid. Satoru’s still holding onto your thighs, the proximity to him causing your heart to race. You don’t know who to focus on. Even their hands have you in a trance. Suguru’s fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles making your mouth water, while Satoru holds your legs, his palms suspiciously moving further up.

You can feel the outline of something beneath you, and you think you know what it is, but you want to be sure. 

You shimmy your ass a bit, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Satoru. There’s a dangerous grin on his face as he looks at you over his glasses. 

“Careful there, baby.” He warns. 

Your mouth immediately dries, desperation crawling up the back of your throat. The outline below you is much thicker than it was several minutes ago. He was hard. 

The engine stops, and your stomach turns over. You’re stopped at a hotel. It’s on the nicer side of town, luckily the part of the city none of your friends ventured to. The building in front of you is at least twenty stories high, the air of wealth floating over to you. 

Just what did these guys do for a living? 

“Come on.” Satoru says, patting your thigh twice. 

You snap out of it and hop out of the car, eyes drawing to the two men next to you. Suguru stuffs his keys in his pocket and slides beside you, snaking his arm up your back. His hand rests against the nape of your neck, softly holding you. The act feels borderline protective.

You peer up at him and he grants you a smile before leading you next to him, guiding you by your neck towards the hotel entrance. It’s even nicer on the inside than it is on the outside. 

A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, you know that it must be made of glass but at first glance it looks like diamonds. There’s little dots along the walls from the reflection of the fine material, hypnotizing you. A soft tune echoes in the background, Mozart you think, that lulls you into a sense of relaxation. 

“Good afternoon.” The check in attendant nods at Suguru. 

Does this scene look weird to him? 

Suguru acts as though it’s completely normal, dipping his head down in response before facing forward again, heading towards the elevators. Maybe it was normal for Suguru. 

Maybe they’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t special. You have to remind yourself that that’s the point. You weren’t any better. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’re objectively worse. Tonight wouldn’t mean anything. Just a quick, nasty fuck. 

Out of your periphery you see Satoru jab his finger into the elevator button. He seems a bit impatient. Excited, maybe. 

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking up as the numbers on the screen decrease, indicating the elevator was inching closer and closer. 

He’s a bit beautiful. 

You knew that before. But his beauty looks different under the fine chandelier light of the hotel. The way he looked in the dingy bar, although still incredibly attractive, was a far cry from how he appears now. Almost ethereal, you’d say. The warm glow of the lights above make him look like a painting. 

Suguru’s the same as Satoru. The lighting and surroundings of the hotel are making him appear even more stunning than before. When you peer up at him, he glances down and grins back at you. It feels like you’ve been caught red handed. You look away quickly, just in time to watch the elevator doors slide open. 

Satoru hops in and waits for you and Suguru to enter before pressing ‘18’. 

The music inside the elevator is much more quiet, yet you’re still grateful for it. You’re nervous, your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. It was hard to believe that you were really doing this. The soft piano helps soothe your nerves, as you will your mind to stop racing.

Suguru’s hand slides off your neck and you find yourself almost missing the sensation. The warmth from his palm fades away, along with the sense of protection it provided. 

You only have a moments reprieve before the other man jumps at you. 

Satoru’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his tongue smoothing along your bottom lip. You groan in surprise before following along, letting your hands slide up his shirt. 

He’s muscular. 

Images flash in your brain of what he may look like shirtless. Your mind paints up a mouthwatering scene, full of hard lines and bulging muscles.

Your mouth opens to accept him, his tongue quickly entangling with yours. It’s hot and messy. Spit dribbles from the sides of your lips, and you can hardly catch your breath. 

“Don’t be so greedy, Satoru.” Suguru chides. 

Shit, you had almost forgotten he was there. 

Embarrassment fills your veins instantly. It suddenly hits you that you were going to have sex with both of them. How was this going to work? The idea seems daunting. 

Satoru grunts in retaliation and you almost think he doesn’t want to share. The man proves you wrong though, when he tugs you forward towards him. His body crashes against yours, and you have to hold his firm biceps to stabilize yourself. Suguru glides behind you, his hands quickly finding your hips. 

You’re trapped. 

Satoru parts from your lips, a thin string of saliva snapping once he removes himself. Your mind is crowded by lust as you look up at him with heavy lids. 

You want more. 

It’s a good thing there were two of them. 

Suguru grips your chin from behind and turns your head sideways, pressing his mouth against yours. His lips aren’t as sweet as Satoru, but it makes your knees weak all the same. 

Suguru is more methodical in his approach. He waits until you’re reaching a hand down, squeezing his arm against your waist. With a chuckle he parts his lips, sliding his tongue along your mouth, the movement painfully slow.

Satoru has moved his focus to your neck now. He’s kissing and biting down the column of your throat, the heat from his breathing making you shiver. You use your other hand to glide through his hair, urging him forward to continue his attack on your throat. 

Only when he starts sucking do you realize the severity of his actions. 

“N-no hickeys.” You tear yourself away from Suguru to say. 

Satoru looks at you for a second before chuckling, dragging his tongue up your throat. “Sure thing, princess.” 

Your shoulders sag in relief as you feel Satoru begin to go easy on you, only licking and kissing your tender flesh. You’re grateful you caught him in time. 

Suguru kisses you once more and you moan, a sound that spurs the two men on. Satoru raises a hand to paw at your breasts through your dress, and Suguru’s grip has tightened. 

The elevator dings just in time. 

Your entanglement felt longer than a life time, but it couldn’t have been more than two minutes. Suguru reluctantly tears himself away from you, watching as you catch your breath. Satoru is a bit more stubborn, only stopping once you say his name. 

Luckily the hallway in front of you is empty. The three of you step out, and you let them guide you to their room. 

“Here we are.” Satoru murmurs. 

Suguru, apparently master of the keys, lifts up a card and unlocks the door. When it opens he pushes the door in, letting you and Satoru go first. 

The room is huge. 

There’s a living room with a decent sized kitchen, along with two doors that can only lead to what you assume to be bedrooms. 

“Home sweet home,” Satoru lifts up a hand, waving it towards their hotel room. “Well, I guess hotel sweet hotel-“ 

“Satoru.” You all but plead, looking up at him desperately. 

His eyes flick down to you and he grins before stepping closer. 

“Sorry baby, you need something, huh?” He crashes his lips against yours again. 

The kiss is even more urgent this time around. Satoru lifts his glasses up blindly, before walking backwards to lead you further inside. 

You reach behind your back and pat around, trying to feel for your zipper. You need your clothes off now. When you don’t feel the flimsy tab, you turn around and look over your shoulder as if that will help any.  

“Keep having your fun, princess.” Suguru murmurs, his fingers expertly finding the elusive zipper. 

You whine and face forward again, kissing Satoru once more. Suguru carefully pulls it down, a cool rush of air grazing your back once it’s open. 

He leans down and kisses your spine, slowly making his way up while you shove your tongue down Satoru’s throat. 

The room’s spinning, you’re sure of it. 

Suguru takes his lips off your back so he can slide the dress off your shoulders, his hands grazing your skin causing you to break out in goosebumps. 

The dress falls to the floor, leaving you exposed in only your bra and underwear. It was an expensive set, one you had bought years ago yet hadn’t gotten much of a use out of. 

Satoru pulls his lips away to glance down at your figure before looking back up at your face. Your lips are swollen, eyes fluttering in need. 

“Shit…” he whispers to himself before kissing you again. 

Suguru’s hands roam your body, letting you have your playtime as he explores your skin. His palms glide against your stomach and thighs, moving slowly. 

You must be soaked already. 

Satoru tears himself back again, hands reaching for his shirt. He undresses in a matter of seconds, leaving himself only in his underwear. His body is even more amazing than you had conjured up in your mind. 

He was muscular without being overtly so, leaning more towards the body of a runner. His skin is pale, matching the tone of his hair. 

You run your hands up his stomach to his chest, letting your fingers dance along the grooves of his muscles. His head hangs low as he watches you drag your nails against him. 

Suguru stands next to you as he pulls his shirt off his head, the action catching your eye. You turn around and allow your gaze to float down to his chest. He looks just as perfect as Satoru. 

You tug Suguru closer and kiss him, his slow pace allowing you a chance to recuperate. 

“Want you to sit on my face.” Satoru says, his hands skirting along your body. 

So much for recuperating. 

“O-okay.” 

Satoru leads you and Suguru into one of the bedrooms before making himself comfortable on the bed. His form takes up the whole length of the bed, head at the end as he looks up expectantly. 

You look over your shoulder to see Suguru watching you. His lids are heavy as he stares at you, desire unmistakably falling over his features. He dips his head as if he was comforting you, or giving you permission. You slide your underwear off before tossing a leg over Satoru’s face, lowering yourself just above his mouth. You’re facing the end of the bed, Suguru standing in front of you. 

“So fucking wet.” Satoru mumbles to himself before sticking his tongue out, tugging your hips down until he meets your pussy. 

“F-fuck!” You moan, your hand latching onto his white locks. 

“That feel good?” Suguru asks. 

You bite your lip and look up at him, watching as his hand reaches down to unbuckle his pants. The sight makes you flustered. He maintains eye contact as he tugs them down, his cock still contained behind his underwear. 

“Open.” He says in a hushed tone. 

Your lips part, jaw dropping open at his order. 

“Atta girl.” 

Suguru eases his thumb into your mouth, watching as your lips wrap around him. You suck softly, bobbing your head as you lick the sides of his thumb. 

He looks delighted as you perform for him. You try your best to focus on the task at hand, but Satoru is making it increasingly difficult. His tongue is sticking out, flicking against your swollen clit. He drags it down before teasing your entrance, poking in several times before retreating to suck on your nub. 

You tug at his hair, grinding your body down against him. His hands have a tight grip on your ass, helping you hump against his mouth. 

“There you go, ride my fucking face.” Satoru growls below you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head, the pleasure coursing through your body. 

Suguru uses his other hand to pull down his boxers, allowing his cock to jump free. Everything feels too good. When you look back down, the sight makes you lightheaded. His cock is hard, tip leaky with anticipation as he watches you. 

He pumps it several times before reaching down to grab your free hand. Suguru wraps it around his cock, giving you free reign to pump him. 

His thumb never leaves your mouth. You’re sort of glad it doesn’t. If it did, you aren’t sure how loud you would be moaning. 

Suguru looks at your face as you begin to jack him off. He’s far more interested in watching you suck his thumb.

Satoru sucks on your clit, his eyes closed as he focuses on your body. You can feel yourself drip into him. 

“You gonna cum for us? On Satoru’s face?” Suguru coos. 

You moan around his thumb and squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck, you were going to cum on Satoru’s face. Soon, probably. 

Your palm slides down Suguru’s cock as your fist fucks him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, his precum making the glide that much easier. 

Satoru speeds his actions up, his lips wrapped tightly around your nub. Your body tightens up in response, and you begin to cum. 

Satoru aides you through your orgasm, sucking the entire time as you twist above him. Your hand slows against Suguru’s cock as you pant around his thumb. 

Satoru flicks his tongue against your clit slowly before removing his mouth from you, allowing you to slide off his face. 

He sits up once you’re off, his chin completely covered in your essence. You’re almost embarrassed. Satoru looks unaffected, letting his tongue clean the cum on his lips. 

“Let’s go baby.” Satoru says. 

Suguru eases his thumb from your mouth, chuckling at the whimper you let out. You were really starting to get into it, too. 

Satoru helps you get onto your hands and knees, facing forward towards Suguru. Suguru reaches down to unclasp your bra, pulling it off your body before tossing it to the side. Your nipples instantly harden from the cold air. 

Satoru smoothes his hands down your back while admiring your trembling form beneath him. Aftershocks from your previous orgasm were still racking through your body. He tears his gaze away to look at the bedside table, grumbling before he finds what he’s looking for. You hear the sound of a condom being opened as you stare at Suguru’s cock. 

Would you be able to fit that in your mouth? 

“Alright,” Satoru mumbles, sliding the condom on before lining himself up with your entrance.

You part your lips, waiting for Suguru to slide himself in your mouth. Satoru’s cock pokes at your entrance, pushing past as he sinks into your pussy. You groan, your walls rushing to accommodate the stretch. 

Satoru’s jaw is clenched as he looks down, watching your pussy greedily accept him, squeezing his cock until he’s finally all of the way in. 

He pauses for a moment, and you slip Suguru’s cock into your mouth. His tip eases past your lips, precum dripping onto your taste buds as he pushes himself in further. 

You gag a bit, nose flaring as you try to breathe around his cock. It’s more difficult than you anticipated, drool sliding down your chin as you go as far as you can. 

Satoru begins to shallowly pump inside you, while Suguru starts to rock his hips. 

It doesn’t take long before Satoru is fucking you properly, the slick of your cum making it easy to glide inside you. Suguru lets you control the pace, bobbing your head against his cock as you swallow around him. 

Satoru pushes against your gspot with each thrust, the sensation making you moan around Suguru. 

This felt so good, you were left wondering why you didn’t do it sooner. 

Satoru groans behind you, feeling like his cock was being choked by your pussy. He reaches down and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. You moan and your pussy tightens around Satoru in reaction. 

“Thaaaat’s it.” Satoru sounds almost breathless. “Bet your husband doesn’t fuck you this good, does he?” 

You stutter around Suguru, confusion sparking inside you. 

Husband?

How did he know?

Satoru laughs loudly, continuing to fuck into you. 

“What? You didn’t think we’d notice?” Suguru inserts himself into the discussion. “There’s a tan line around your ring finger, darling.”

Satoru thrusts into you even harder. “No hickeys? Come on.” His fingers speed up around your clit, making you moan against Suguru. “So I’ll repeat myself, your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” 

The humiliation was almost suffocating, yet it turned you on so badly you could hardly stand it. 

Suguru pulls himself from your throat, watching as you loudly gasp for air. 

You feel ruined. But you like it. 

“N-no,” you moan out. 

“No? That’s right.” Satoru mumbles under his breath. 

With each thrust it feels like he’s knocking all common sense from you. Your fingers dig into the sheets below, hoping it will relieve some of the pressure but all it manages to do is crumple the bedding. 

Suguru presses himself back into your throat, throwing his head back as you bob your head along him. You run your tongue down the sides of his cock, stroking him as you suck. 

“Can tell you aren’t happy with him, you just needed to be fucked properly, is that right?” Satoru continues. 

You moan around Suguru, unable to reply. Satoru understands the sentiment, pressing harder against your clit. You tighten up around him again, unable to control the way your cunt squeezes him. He keeps filling you up, his cock somehow pressing into all the right places. You’re getting close to cumming again, body begging for the sensation once more. 

Satoru’s hands are gripping your hips hard, so hard that there’s a voice in the back of your brain telling you he may leave marks, but you’re in too deep already. Drool is seeping from your lips, hanging in strings down your chin as you swallow Suguru’s cock. You wonder who’s going to cum first. 

Your orgasm inches closer, made possible by the strum of Satoru’s fingers against your needy clit. He’s groaning behind you, the sounds spurring you on. 

“Come on, come on baby. Cum on my cock.” He urges with a groan. 

Your pussy clenches around his cock hard and you release, cumming harder than you ever have before. 

“Just like that, just like that.” He talks you through it, a whimper breaking his voice. 

Suguru makes good use of your slack jaw, pounding so hard into your throat that you surmise it’s going to bruise. There’s no oxygen in your brain, no thoughts in your head, just pure bliss as you cum on Satoru. 

“You’re gonna make me-“ Satoru lets out a long moan, hips jerking against you, his cock twitching as he fills the condom with his cum. 

You’re trying to breathe heavily through your nose as you come down, allowing Suguru to use you as he sees fit. His face is concentrated as he stares down at you, admiring the mess you’ve become as he fucks your throat. He swears under his breath before coming to a stop, spurting hot cum in your mouth. 

You struggle to swallow it all, briefly feeling like you were drowning in the fluid, before you gulp it down. It’s messy, some of his cum paints your lips as he slides his now softening cock out of your mouth. 

The room is filled with the sounds of your mixed panting, bodies all entering a state of relaxation. Satoru eases himself from your pussy, inhaling sharply as he slips out. He removes the condom, tying it before tossing it into the bin beside the bed. You’re in complete bliss, fucked out from every orifice. 

Suguru smoothes your hair down and finds a washcloth to wipe the filth from your lips, smiling to himself at your expression. 

“You can stay the night, if you’d like.” Satoru says as he relaxes on the bed. 

He glances at the clock and ascertains that it’s much later than you were intending. You mumble to yourself and nod, not fully comprehending what ramifications may be waiting at home for you. 

Satoru opens the blankets for you, waiting as Suguru cleans between your legs. The actions are a bit sweet. Everything is. You were expecting them to kick you to the curb after you had sex, so you’re pleasantly surprised when they slide in bed next to you, laying on either side. 

Satoru’s arms are wrapped tightly around your frame as you nod off, and you feel truly happy for the first time in years. 

~~~

You aren’t sure what wakes you up in the morning. Your internal clock, maybe. Your body is sore as you groan, flipping onto your back. The hotel ceiling greets you as you crack your eyes open. A brief bit of panic courses through you. 

So last night was real, huh? 

You turn your head and notice the bed beside you is completely devoid of anyone else, both men seemingly having vanished. You aren’t sure if you feel more sad or relieved. Sad because you enjoyed their presence, but relieved because now you could pretend like nothing happened. 

Is that what you wanted to do? 

You were having a hard time believing that that would be easy, that you could go back to your old life and be content when you knew there was so much more out there. 

You sit up and look towards the clock. You were in deep shit. There’s a note on the beside table that catches your attention. You lift it up, reading the words on the page. It fills you with a deep sense of satisfaction once you notice a phone number on it.

“Call us if you want to have a good time. -Satoru and Suguru.” 

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[ph4os]

The fact that most of you are upset about the way non-pagans portray our gods in books, movies, etc. just highlights the fact that you are still being brainwashed by Christian/monotheistic beliefs. It doesn't bother you that our gods are being used by people who don't believe in them, it bothers you that they are portrayed with flaws, which is not the case in other religions. Historically, however, this way of portraying gods also happened in ancient Greece and I assure you that practicing pagan religion back then was not all sunshine and roses and birds and hearts. It was very often the case that people were forced to practice this religion, but the myths still existed. You just have to be able to separate the concept of canonical deity from what is actually the fanon portrayal. You can't be upset because... Idk... Zeus in the Percy Jackson books treated Apollo badly. Those are not our Zeus and Apollo. Those are FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. And because of that, you can't get mad because there's a fandom that treats them as such and therefore talks about those characters in a certain way. If you see a post about a retelling where they say, for example, "wow!!! Apollo is so babygurl!!! I love him!!" You can't get mad, they're not talking about Lord Apollo, they're talking about a random character from a random portrayal. Is that fair? Of course not! But, if you want to be historically accurate, gods have always had their flaws and personalities. Our gods don't have the characteristics of the Christian God, they aren't perfect and they've been this way since the dawn of time, as it should be. I'm not saying I condone ALL modern portrayals of gods, absolutely not (in fact if you really want to know I had a mental breakdown after watching "Kaos") but I am saying we're going to have to let this stuff slide. Christians sadly don't take us seriously, when the only unrealistic religion is their own (but I'll probably get into that in another post), and there's nothing we can do about it. The only thing we can do is remember where we come from, what gods we worship, and that what they do or say should not affect us. It is okay to be angry, it is okay to be sad, but logistically speaking, we cannot sabotage a quarter of the world's publishing.

(Also, in this post I'm genuinely assuming that, anyone who practices pagan religion, does it by vocation and not because as children they wanted to be half-bloods and fight against Luke Castellan and that, as a result, I'm talking to people who educate themselves on reliable books and not on tiktok 🙏🏻)

Thank you for your attention, I love you all. If you don't agree with what I said in the post we can talk about it civilly, if you don't think you're able to do that you can block me directly. May the gods bless you🙏🏻🫶🏻

[tenebrisdivina]

I have some questions that are probably very juvenile to someone of your experience. I have worked with and spoken to only a few demons in the past, notably Orobas, Egyn, and Amaymon, the first two of which were pleasant, and the last not so much (extremely awry). I did not bind them and do not wish to. For one I wonder, have you ever had psychosis/obsession/other severe ill effect induced from a demon you were in contact with, or other odd but not necessarily harmful things, like specific cravings (ex. blood)? How do you approach the spirits that induce harm or delusion, or do you just leave them be? I have wanted to revisit demons but my very negative experience with Amaymon has made me wary of them entirely unless my patron is actively condoning the interaction. Is it just a case of proper caution and non-aggressive protection, or is there anything more that could help me avoid a bad experience going forward? (For context I do not recall doing anything that could have offended, other than being an easily manipulated idiot at the time. I didn't have demands, I sought to just speak and build a relationship to begin with, but I fell into a very bizarre state of mind and ill health that only improved when I separated Amaymon from me, and in hindsight sense that it was extremely aggressive, but I do not know what prompted it, if anything.) Thank you for reading.

thankyou for your ask; this is a bit of a long response as i don't know much about your practices or how you actually connected to the demonic etc

To be clear I have not worked with nor connected to any of the demons you have mentioned. Also just to disclaim here; I am not judging the situation nor what happened I am neutral in this; so if my comments come off as judgmental sounding this is not what I meant.

I wonder first of all how did you specifically go about connecting with Them? And what methods did you use? as that may have an effect on what happens. Secondly sometimes a certain demons energy is “too much” in that it is not compatible with our own energies which can make things harder as well. Sometimes demonic energy can induce certain reactions in the humans energy, and it needs an adjustment period. You also mention “separate Amaymon from you” does this mean you tried possession or some such? All this said I do not know enough about the practices nor circumstances to say much more on this.

However it seems to me that it was likely a parasite or being masking as Lord Amaymon, rather then the demonic divine being Himself. (this is actually more common then sometimes is realized) In my view and experience the Dark Lords do not attack/ harm someone who is just connecting with them, and also for no reason. They have better things to do then attack people and have little interest in such a thing. If they are uninterested or have an issue with the person, most likely they will not come through at all. This is not to say that the event did not happen or wasn’t harrowing, just that it may not be as clear as it seemed to be and it may not have been the DL. Within darker energies there can be more room for other things to step into and act as other beings sometimes.( I am writing a post about this soon)

Demonic divine beings in general (especially those known about by humans) do not seek to malevolently harm humans. In my view it is extremely rare that a Demonic Divine Dark Lord would do something unwarranted. For the most part excepting specific demons and demonic races (which tbh humans are not in contact with and they are not known or listed in grimoires) if the Demonic Divine does something like this it can ( and tbh usually is) be a form of teaching, even if it is particularly harrowing. Sometimes the more “egoic” human mindset is not something important to the DL ( at that time) - if there is a lesson that “needs” to happen.  Again, I do not know the specifics so I cannot say for certain about your circumstances. It could potentially be helpful ( if you so choose) to re-evaluate the issue from a different perspective. I am also not of the belief that demons are always going to; be nice, care about you, “light, love” pleasant or amicable even. They can even just not like people and energetically not be compatible. They are individuals as well. All this said; even if there is an issue ( potentially)- I am using this going forward as if it was Amaymon but I personally do not think it actually was) with one demon, does not mean there will automatically be issues or you would be treated poorly by the others of the demonic divine, given they are individual, autonomous beings and keep their own council. It is also possible the demon does not want a connection either.

On to your questions. To note also; if someone/thing seems to be truly inducing actual psychosis and delusion etc ( for legal reasons I need to say this and I do think its important to check to) look to deal with the mundane first and check with a medical profession, to clear that up and make sure it’s not something mundane.

But beyond that;

For the first part yes, I have one specific Dark Lord that I work with does this and I am connected to a few others as well who do this. Before connecting with this Dark Lord I was aware He was like this. The circumstances of our relationship are unique however- but in working with Him, it has definitely been a learning curve. For me personally, I chose to keep being in a relationship with this being and so taught myself to understand His and Their viewpoints and be accepting of it. I think truly, it is a personal decision as to why you want the relationship or to choose to stay in it. It does require developing a new understanding of things and being open to seeing things in a new way.

It is helpful to consider when working with otherworldy beings; is this a chosen behavior on their part or is it just their nature or energies? So; I would question going forward – what is it you are wanting from this being and perhaps it could be gotten from someone else or there are other options? If there are no other options- assuming They (are open to connecting and working with you in the first place and it is a chosen behavior) and They continue treating you that way; are you prepared for that and learning to deal with it? ( with this I am mainly meaning god-level beings- who are not easily dealt with)

I think however in general terms; that unless you are willing to “adapt” or deal with such interactions (because sometimes it is simply Their nature or energies as well), then beings like this ( who treat you this way) should be left alone- unless there is a specific and good reason to go and interact with them. For example:  if there is something you can only get from interacting with them- mostly with the demonic divine however and deities- there are others who are within the same ”wheelhouse” so to speak- that could be more amenable and “easier” to work with and you can ask to be guided to Them as well.  If you do continue to interact with these beings then I think you should be open and aware of possibly being “hurt” by this, as it can just be their way, and it is something to consider. It is a choice.

 Otherworldy beings in general are not like humans and don’t have the same mindsets, proclivities, values, energies etc. the further you go away from human earthen realm the more obvious and potentially more dangerous it is. So what is important to the human may not be to them. Yes, you can try to protect yourself and if you chose to keep working with them, then setting boundaries around what is and isn’t appropriate for you is important. Knowing your limits for example if it is a dangerous energy. One should also not “expect” to be cared for or about by otherworldy beings either. By this I mean, that if one truly wants to interact with otherworldy beings who are further away from the humans realms (and demonic can be) that viewing things from a human-centric perspective is quite unhelpful. So also try to learn and understand where the being is coming from. Sometimes however, you just can’t and that’s okay- we can’t comprehend everything and the human brain can’t either.

In my experience as much as some mages like to think they are powerful or god like etc they really aren’t, especially in comparisons to a DL. It is my view that Demonic divine cannot be bound or controlled period and what the Solomonic grimoire authors bound was not truly the demonic divine.

For protection; it is often more helpful to know yourself deeply and to know what you can and cannot tolerate. I do think that asking your patron for aid in this is helpful and a good idea, your protection should really be specific to you. The way I view it is, if you are actually connecting with a demonic divine being and something is going awry or feels that way to you, simply ask them to leave or stop and they most often will ( sometimes we have to learn how to say “no” though). If they ( the demonic divine being) does not- then ask what is the point of them doing this to you, what needs to be learnt through this, if anything?- as it is often a good reason for this. Most often if you make it known you don’t want this and ask them to leave they will ( if they are divine being, a parasite etc will not).

Basic protection should be practiced in general; shielding, grounding, cleansing, warding the space as part of usual routine. Have you looked at S Connoly’s work at all( she is very good for basic working with demons ins a respectful manner)? Sometimes in demonolatry ritual an elemental circle is called upon- but it is to balance the energies- not to protect you from the demonic.

If you did choose to interact with someone who induces harm and delusion- it is still important to understand why you are approaching them.  Do you want the delusion experience? If so then you wouldn’t try to combat it. If you do not - then training yourself to “see clearly” would be helpful- I don’t just mean clairvoyance- I mean actually using the third eye to be attuned to the “truth” of a thing and understanding the many layers of realities/ illusions etc. This will take time though. I would strongly recommend doing shadow work to help with protection and as a good practice in general.  If the being truly produces delusion- then knowing your own self very well can be very helpful for seeing through this. It is also important to cleanse regularly for delusional energies and work on your third eye too. Another thing to consider (it wasn’t clear in the ask) perhaps the “delusion” and harm (if it was demonic divine being) could have actually been a clearing of energies? But I don’t know enough about your current practices to really say.

For avoiding a poor experience going forward, using a divination practice- even just a pendulum can be helpful for determining whether to work with beings or not. Communing also with those otherworldly beings you trust like your patron perhaps to check to see if this is someone you should work with or not, can be helpful. Also trusting your gut too with what you are feeling- this usually gives a good guide as to whether something is “good” for you or not. You can also determine over longer term if something is beneficial to you or not- by looking at how your life is going, is it “improving (by your own standards)” or not? But this is nuanced to the individual. Nothing is truly guaranteed, however. So observing in the moment and longer term can be helpful. Sometimes also we are drawn to more “harmful” things to learn something from it, even if its only on how to set good boundaries or stand up for ourselves etc. But everyone’s journey is individual. It can also be helpful in the aftermath of such a hazardous experience to do energy healing work as well, or other methods and the ground, cleanse, centre etc.

Also for going forward and working with demons- you could try to choose which demons you are interested in ( from looking at the different hierarchy lists) via gut feeling of being drawn to them, via divination or via looking at what you want to achieve or work on and who could help with that. As you mentioned a good experience with the first two demons you contacted then maybe contacting Them again to try small steps back in to approaching this work. Or you could look to some other of the demonic that are known to be okay with beginners- as they may help with working up to connecting with others. It is okay to take your time with it though and not rush it if it feels like too much. If casting an elemental circle (from S Connoly’s work) can help you to feel safer or better about contacting the demonic then that is helpful to do, when calling upon the particular demonic. (while I don’t know your practice my advice is please do not use the mirror method- the demonic do not like it and you end up with weird energies from it). You could also (if into magick) create a sigil or small talisman you charge with protective and guiding energies to have with you at the time of contact. I would suggest also gaining knowledge about a strong banishing technique as well, if you do not already know one (and calling on your patron to help with this, or even asking your patron to protect you when connecting as well). I use a modified satanic LBRP ( calls upon demonic not angelic beings) along with usually cleansing and balancing. Placing wards around the space you are connecting could be helpful as well. And these protective techniques are not so much to be “used against” the demonic divine- but rather to keep the riffraff out, so you can be more likely to get the correct being coming through. These techniques like banishing etc would be more like the “big- guns” though, but it is still useful to know. Though in my view it doesn’t banish true demonic divine beings, for them asking them ( poiltely and sometimes firmly) to leave is enough. For general banishing feeling the power or your Will and command (as a divine being as well) will work well for just about everything.

Because you did have a harrowing experience with one of the ”demonic,” it is normal to feel apprehensive, so try to go easy on yourself with this and it doesn’t need to be rushed.

I am happy to offer other advice or help if needed. And I apologise for the length, there is a lot to cover in this ask. Hope this helps somewhat.

others who see this: This answer is just for this person and the ask, please do not apply it generally

[sluttymothman]

‘Welcome to my humble sex dungeon. What can I do for such a lovely specimen? You don't want a role, do you? Because I could make you a star~’

ཐིཋྀ This is an indie, semi-selective, roleplay page for the man who wears lingerie as casual clothing. The pimp with the shittiest eyesight this side of Hell. The Vee’s very own, rage-filled, moth, Valentino. ཐིཋྀ

A Warning and Disclaimer.

Valentino is an evil trash pile of a demon and I, in no way, endorse or condone any of his words or actions. I will attempt to roleplay him in a manner that I think is accurate to how he is written — due to this there will be exploration of murder, sa, abusive relationships and other dark and sexual themes on this page. As someone who wants this community to be a safe space for everyone I encourage you wholeheartedly to speak to me about boundaries before we roleplay (or if they change while we are roleplaying) Remember: consent and communication are sexy.

Val is an egocentric asshole but, as a Mun, I am hugely and approachable! I promise. Please feel free to send me asks, messages and starters.

About the writer.

Chessi. She/They. 26. Libra.

A little about this page.

❤︎ This account is run by a fully-fledged adult who is 25+ and will include content that explores dark themes, sexual content and foul language. Do NOT interact with this page if you are a minor.

❤︎ I tend to write 3-4 descriptive paragraph responses in my rp. Shorter or longer is totally fine, don’t feel the need to match me (I’m a big ol’ waffler) — all I ask is that responses are long enough to give me something to work with.

❤︎ I do not currently practice mains or exclusives. I am happy to roleplay with duplicates, although, obviously my relationship with each portrayal will be different based on previous threads/events.

❤︎ I am chronically multiship. For me, it’s all about the chemistry between our muses.

❤︎ In spite of my stellar ability to ‘wax poetic’ about the most mundane of things, I am dyslexic. The reason I bring this up is just in case any errant spelling or grammar mistakes slip into my responses. I apologise, let me know and I’m always happy to edit (or just ignore them and win my lifelong affection.)

❤︎ Plot-wise, I am always happy to explore silly cross-overs and divergence from canon. I LOVE both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss and will welcome, with open arms, any new friendships and roleplay partners. Likewise, OC’s are welcome on this page.

❤︎ Please know that there is never any pressure to reply to a post of mine in any timeframe! All I ask is that no pressure is applied on me either. If I could, I would spend all my time on here writing with all of you talented people, however, life has a habit of getting in the way.

❤︎ As you can see below, I have amassed a hefty collection of pages. If you lose inspiration/motivation for a post we are writing then it’s 100% fine, in fact I positively implore you, to let me know. We can start a new thread. We can explore a different one of my muses. Just let me know!

❤︎ I’m perhaps to least intimidating person ever (like, the kind of person who would accidentally apologise to a door if I walked into it) so please, feel comfortable to come and chat~

Other Blogs.

Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer. @rubberduckydemonking

Alastor. @staticsmiles

Angel Dust. @spiderbby

Husk. @whisky-whiskers

Vox. @hypno-glitch

Valentino. @sluttymothman

Travis. @lusty-owl

Helluva Boss.

Asmodeus. @kinkylustking

Blitz. @assassin-imp

Fizzarolli. @froggy-fizz

Moxxie. @moxxiemisfire

Stolas. @starlit-sovereign

Andrealphus. @icecoldbitchbird

Vassago. @prince-vassago

Yorgirt. @satanslittleyogi

[r3negade-x]

So, here's the thing - I know you're trying to say that this is a slippery slope and that if he can decide to kill someone he doesn't like, anyone can, but the problem is that that's already what's happening.

CEOs like Brian Thompson are in the position to be deciding the fates of thousands, if not tens or hundreds of thousands, of people. People who need their insurance to cover their life-saving care. And the majority of the time, they are denied.

That denial often directly leads to these people's deaths - deaths that could easily be prevented if they got their medical bills covered. You've said before in previous posts that police violence is justified if the person they're perpetrating it against is going to or is currently harming other people. By that logic, Mangione was justified in enacting violence against Thompson because he (Thompson) was hurting vast multitudes of people every day. Or is this only the case when the state does it?

That's another thing - this issue isn't partisan, or woke, or anti-work, or anything on the political spectrum - it's American. This was going to happen at some point because this is what America set itself up for.

From practically birth we are spoon-fed a narrative that America was born from a desperate revolution against an evil empire, that we only exist thanks to brave men on the battlefield. Time and again, we are told stories of America beating back the bad guys with violence. We stopped slavery with violence. We stopped Hitler with violence. Our movies and tv shows are filled with heroes violently defeating evil empires who oppress their people. If you're christian, which is highly likely if you're american, you're told that the world is constantly against you and you will one day need to rise up and defend your freedoms. That we are only free thanks to the constant battles of our military.

Then we grow up.

We realize that we are not free. We are made slaves by the need for food and shelter, commodities held for ransom by those who hoard them. We are forced into back-breaking or humiliating work for most of the week, sometimes even more than a week, with little respite between days. We exhaust ourselves to be able to live, while the people we work for live in luxury. They feast on rare delicacies while we starve, they own fleets of cars and yachts bought with the money we give them, and then when we ask for a little help, the help they promised us, in order to continue living, they deny us and leave us to die.

I don't know about you, but to me, that sounds like an evil empire. And overthrowing evil empires is what America is all about. At least, it's what we like to tell ourselves it's all about.

Truthfully, I wish I could wholeheartedly condemn this murder. To say it was injust to take a father away from his wife and kids. But how can I, when he has destroyed countless families the same way, the only difference being his weapon of choice is bureaucracy? And worse, how can I say that violence is not the answer when it clearly gets results?

After Thompson was shot, there was an entire day where everyone who filed a claim with United Healthcare got approved. Every. Single. One. They could have done that at any time, but only did it at that point because they were afraid. Because they knew that people are getting fed up of being oppressed and abused.

Like I said before, America is built on the idea that violence is the solution to oppressive regimes. We see this throughout history; if you want something done, get a weapon. Get violent. Get mad. Make life take the lemons back. I don't want violence to be the best option, but if it gets results, it's only a matter of time before more people take up arms.

Cyan: OSP does not condone violence. Or at least not murder. And usually not violence. Blue: OSP condones sending a message!

Ultimately, I don't think it's fair to condemn a majority for celebrating the death of a man who has directly caused so much pain and misery. To call them insensitive is to ignore the many lives that Thompson has taken, however indirectly.

“Do you understand what I'm saying?" shouted Moist. "You can't just go around killing people!" "Why Not? You Do." The golem lowered his arm. "What?" snapped Moist. "I do not! Who told you that?" "I Worked It Out. You Have Killed Two Point Three Three Eight People," said the golem calmly. "I have never laid a finger on anyone in my life, Mr Pump. I may be–– all the things you know I am, but I am not a killer! I have never so much as drawn a sword!" "No, You Have Not. But You Have Stolen, Embezzled, Defrauded And Swindled Without Discrimination, Mr Lipvig. You Have Ruined Businesses And Destroyed Jobs. When Banks Fail, It Is Seldom Bankers Who Starve. Your Actions Have Taken Money From Those Who Had Little Enough To Begin With. In A Myriad Small Ways You Have Hastened The Deaths Of Many. You Do Not Know Them. You Did Not See Them Bleed. But You Snatched Bread From Their Mouths And Tore Clothes From Their Backs. For Sport, Mr Lipvig. For Sport. For The Joy Of The Game.” --Going Postal

By: Colin Wright

Published: Dec 23, 2024

A new study from the Network Contagion Research Institute (NCRI) has revealed an alarming surge in anti-civil activity online following the assassination of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson. The NCRI study, titled “Killing with Applause: Emergent Permission Structures for Murder in the Digital Age,” highlights the profound societal implications of this event, showcasing the disturbing normalization of violence against corporate figures and the role of social media in amplifying such narratives.

While the specifics of Thompson’s murder are shocking, the NCRI warns that the broader cultural shift it appears to be facilitating may be even more worrisome. The data reveals an evolving “permission structure” online—a system in which social media platforms amplify narratives, and susceptible individuals provide justification—resulting in the normalization of violence on a scale previously confined to small extremist communities.

The murder, which occurred outside a Manhattan hotel during an investors’ conference, has sparked a wave of online glorification, memes, and merchandise celebrating the shooter, Luigi Mangione. The NCRI’s findings expose an unsettling trend: mainstream social media platforms are becoming breeding grounds for rhetoric that not only justifies violence but also facilitates its transition from the digital realm to the real world.

Public Opinion Reflects Shifting Norms

The NCRI’s research reveals a major societal shift, highlighting how public opinion has veered dangerously toward accepting violence as a legitimate response to perceived systemic injustices. Nearly half of Americans surveyed (44 percent) believe that Thompson’s murder was at least somewhat justified, reflecting a growing openness to violent means of addressing grievances. This finding is particularly alarming as it indicates that support for such extreme measures is no longer confined to isolated groups but is increasingly mainstream.

The data shows that social media plays a critical role in shaping these attitudes. Among heavy social media users—those who spend more than 5.4 hours per day on these platforms—the justification rate surges to 64 percent, starkly contrasting with just 23 percent among low-use individuals (0-1.3 hours per day).

Even more concerning is the generational divide: a staggering 78.8 percent of respondents aged 18-27 expressed at least partial justification for the murder, signaling a profound shift among younger demographics toward endorsing “targeted violence.”

The younger generation’s overwhelming approval for violent actions suggests a troubling cultural normalization of aggression as a tool for addressing grievances.

Platforms of Concern: Bluesky and Beyond

One of the most striking revelations in the NCRI study is the role of mainstream platforms like Bluesky in fostering permissive attitudes toward violence. Bluesky, widely lauded by political progressives as a kinder and friendlier alternative to X/Twitter, now exhibits the highest justification rates for the UHC CEO’s murder (78 percent), surpassing even extremist platforms like Gab and 4chan.

Bluesky’s user base skews younger and more tech-savvy, demographics that the NCRI study identifies as particularly susceptible to violent rhetoric. The combination of algorithmic amplification of extreme views and a vulnerable audience creates an environment ripe for the proliferation of violent narratives. This grim reality was recently illustrated when Bluesky users called for the murder of journalist Jesse Singal, en masse, due to his fact-based reporting on pediatric “gender medicine.” Users even posted what they believed to be his address and photos of his apartment door online.

Across social media platforms, including X, Reddit, and TikTok, there has been an alarming increase in content justifying violence. Viral hashtags like #EatTheRich and “Free Luigi” dominate many online discussions, and moderation efforts often lag behind the pace of content creation and dissemination, allowing violent rhetoric to flourish.

From Memes to Real-World Impacts

The transition of violent rhetoric from online spaces to real-world actions is perhaps one of the most troubling revelations of the NCRI study. Viral memes, fancam edits, and merchandise such as “Free Luigi” t-shirts have commodified his image. Events like the “UHC Shooter Lookalike Contest,” held in Washington Square Park, reveals how online rhetoric is influencing real-world behaviors. Participants, many of whom were dressed to mimic Mangione, gathered to celebrate and parody the assassination, demonstrating an alarming erosion of societal norms.

On social media, fancam edits and viral videos glorify Mangione’s actions, framing him as an anti-establishment icon. According to the report:

These videos frequently feature romantic or hyperbolic captions, highlight niche cultural affinities, or focus on his physical appearance, further amplifying his image and fueling narratives that glamorize his actions. This glorification fuels permission structures that could inspire others to perceive violence as a legitimate form of activism.

The hashtag #EatTheRich has surged by over 500 percent week-over-week, accompanying calls for violence against corporate figures and circulating “CEO Wanted” posters and executive “hit lists.” These posters, which feature “mocked-up mugshots of healthcare executives,” promote vigilante justice and represent “a deliberate attempt to provoke fear and destabilize corporate leadership.”

According to the NCRI report, “The murder of Brian Thompson appears to have catalyzed a dangerous feedback loop, where glorification, humor, conspiracy, and targeted harassment create an environment ripe for further violence.”

This blending of online rhetoric and offline action reflects what the NCRI describes as an “emergent permission structure,” which they describe as “a framework that justifies previously unacceptable beliefs or actions, with a clear division of labor: Social media platforms provide the amplification, while psychologically susceptible individuals provide the justification…” Taken in concert, these elements form a system that normalizes and even glamorizes acts of violence.

The Lionization of Luigi Mangione

Luigi Mangione’s transformation from an obscure figure to a symbol of anti-establishment resistance has been meteoric. Within days of his arrest, his social media following exploded from 5,000 to over 400,000. The slogan “Free Luigi” was posted 47,000 times in 48 hours, generating nearly 800,000 engagements across X and Reddit.

The commodification of Mangione’s image extends beyond social media. T-shirts, mugs, and other merchandise featuring his likeness are being sold on e-commerce platforms, trivializing his actions while profiting from the controversy. New cryptocurrency “memecoins” such as $LUIGI have also emerged, turning a deadly act into a speculative financial opportunity.

Psychological Drivers

The NCRI study identifies three key predictors of support for the murder: authoritarian tendencies, heavy social media use, and diminished personal agency. These factors interact in a synergistic way, with social media amplifying authoritarian predispositions and fostering the normalization of violence.

The combination of authoritarianism, an external locus of control, and social media’s amplifying effects appears to be a perfect storm for radicalization. These factors interact in a way that makes violence seem rational and even heroic to those who might otherwise feel marginalized or voiceless.

The interaction between these psychological drivers is particularly pronounced among younger demographics, who are both heavy social media users and more likely to experience anxiety or disillusionment with traditional systems. The NCRI study reveals that among users aged 18-27, those with high authoritarian tendencies and heavy social media use were the most likely to justify violence.

A Call to Action

The NCRI study concludes with a warning:

As digital platforms become arenas for ideological conflict, the consequences extend beyond individual incidents of violence to threaten broader public safety and societal cohesion. This transformation underscores the urgent need for strategies that address the root causes of digital radicalization and mitigate its impacts.

The challenges we face require a comprehensive and collaborative response. No single entity can address the complexities of digital radicalization alone. Policymakers, educators, platforms, and community leaders must work in unison to restore the moral boundaries against violent extremism.

The study concludes:

The spread and scope of justification for murder have significantly eroded what was once the monopoly of fringe communities in supporting violence and glorifying shooters online. This shift underscores the urgency of initiatives aimed at reinforcing the bonds of civic trust and restoring civility. Such efforts are essential not only in countering the tide of extremism but also in fostering a resilient society where dialogue and mutual respect prevail.

==

EDIT: Wow, this managed to attract the murderous psychopaths. I hope you'll be just as understanding when someone kills someone you care about and justifies it in the name of nebulous "systemic" somethingisms.

If there was ever any doubt about Colin's premise, it has been proven by the insanity of those cheering it on in the reblogs.

[chill-pills-yandere-haven]

Innocence

An: This is a yandere Diluc one-shot\drabble. This is my first time doing a one-shot like this so please don't be too harsh. If you find any constructive criticism to give, that would help a lot, so feel free to tell me.

Date started: July 20th. Date finished: July 20th

Tw: yandere, manipulation, very vague reference to abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any actions or behaviours of yanderes, yanderes are abusive. This is not a healthy relationship.

You were too innocent to save yourself.

You should have been cautious when you first met him. The way his eyes took you in, immediately claiming you as his when you spoke first. The way he started to scrutinize everyone around you, telling you you deserved better than them. You deserved him. You should have been cautious when you first met him. The way his eyes took you in, immediately claiming you as his when you spoke first. The way he started to scrutinize everyone around you, telling you you deserved better than them. You deserved him.

Kaeya was the one to introduce you two. You were both captains of the Knights of Favonious and you were good friends, enough to go drinking together. You had gone to Angel's Share together for your first outing, and as though the world was trying to do you in, Diluc was bartending that night.

You had been doomed from the moment you opened your mouth to speak. Somehow, more of your work was shifted to where he was. Hauling things to Dawn Winery, getting rid of monsters near there. He presented himself as a harbour, as a person to go to whenever Kaeya was stressing you out or when you needed help with anything. You had become familiar with him, happy to see him instead of caution of what the wine tycoon could be hiding.

You were practically always on break. For some reason, whenever anything was interesting like a hazard or a new case to investigate. It was dissolved almost immediately, murderers being convicted a day after you were put on their case, monsters already being defeated as soon as you got to the scene.

Then, there was the surge of missing cases. They were people you used to know, you might've been acquainted with them, they could've flirted with you before, or maybe you had thought them to be attractive. They all had a connection to you, and now they were gone. Something that sprouted mistrust of you in the knights, giving rise to more stress.

Diluc would listen to your troubles and worries of feeling as though you had no purpose with the knights. Always a supportive and trustworthy friend. Or that was what you saw. Innocence did you in. Eventually, you found yourself falling for the solemn man. The way he freely smiled at you and not anyone else, the way you felt as though you could depend on each other. As though Diluc wasn't making you depend exclusively on him.

You confessed to him first, unknowingly releasing a side of him better kept in the shadows. He only got more protective and strict with you, giving you rules that you just chalked up to him wanting to be clear about boundaries and thought he was more protective because of his past.

After that, you only got more and more dependent on him. To the point where Diluc convinced you to resign from the knights. Mondstadt was a peaceful nation filled with powerful people who could protect it and you were just a hard-working captain without a Vision. Yes, you did do your best, yes, you helped out as much as possible. But, as your lover told you, it was better to leave things bigger than you to bigger people, people who could actually do things, not just try. You settled into the winery, married Diluc and had a comfortable life by his side. The only thing you could ask for was to go outside of the winery, anywhere would be enough for you, maybe into the city too. It had been quite a while since you had seen anyone who wasn't a worker at the winery or your husband.

You don't remember your stay with him too well, most of it a blur of only him. You can remember some crying and pain, but not from anything you recognize, besides, Diluc would never do something like that to you.

So you asked, not suspecting the obvious answer.

"Diluc, Love, do you think we could visit the city together sometime?" He had finished his work and was now lying in bed with you, tight hold on your hips as though at any moment you might disappear. Feeling him tense up at your words and positioning his head into the crook of your neck, spooning you closer, you nuzzled into him, effectively relaxing the red-haired man.

"For what reason, my dear?" Diluc questioned as your hands found his long hair and played with the soft threads.

"Oh, nothing really serious, I'd just like to pay a visit to my old friends and would like to be outside the winery again." You supplied, feeling him breathe into your hair.

"I would, but you know how busy I am and what if the people you used to know don't care about you anymore or resent you for choosing to stay with me? For all you know, they could have just been pretending to like you to take advantage of before. Besides, we can go to a nice place I know near the winery. It'll be perfectly safe and it will be just us." Your husband replied, trailing his hands along your sides, filled with adoration and something else.

You told him okay and eased into his touch. Falling asleep as he whispered sweet words of love to you.

If only you knew what he hid.

If only you knew what he had done for you.

If only you knew what he took advantage of for you.

If only you knew who he had killed for you.

He was lucky that you were so pure, so true and trusting.

So innocent.

And that innocence would seal your fate.

[ablednt]

[Singlets DNI with this post specifically it's an in community discussion]

Not to start talking about this again but if any of my fellow white followers still do this please don't call your self-made headmates tulpa or use the term tulpamancy. I don't think most of the people using it do so to be malicious but here are some reasons why you should use alternative terms

It's cultural appropriation no matter how you want to look at it. The term was adapted from a religious practice in Tibetan Buddhism that has quite literally nothing to do with systemhood. Like it cannot be a case of this culture or religion shared with us because we're completely misusing the concept. If you're not a part of a religion don't use terms derived from sacred parts of it for non-religious purposes that's very disrespectful. (A lot of people want to argue this point but Tibetan Buddhists have spoken out about this before and though a lot of people use this point to demonize all self-made systems I've seen sources who don't do that and still request another term be used)

The term doesn't make sense etymology wise and the only arguments I've heard from systems who use it instead of an alternative are "it just sounds cool [because I think things from other cultures are just cool and aesthetic]" (this ties in to a problem in the witchcraft/pagan community but that's a different discussion) and "this is what I'm used to using [and I am the victim here for being mildly inconvenienced]

There's SO many better alternatives. There's self-made headmate/system, there's parogenic/parotive, there's specific terms that explain how you formed them like textform, and there's also the basic terms like headmate, system member, etc. Not only do these have no culturally appropriative origins but they actually describe the experience rather than just "sounding cool" and hell even if none of those do it for you there's a lot more and you can coin your own you have the power.

It makes people uncomfortable. This, I think, is the more important point. Like even if it somehow magically turned out that historically it was fine (it hasn't done that) you should still be prioritizing what people and systems of color have been telling you. We've seen a lot of people voicing their discomfort over the term and it seems to be a symptom of a larger racism problem within the system community. So when you double down and dig your heels in over something small like this it's setting a bad precedence and making people uncomfortable. At the end of the day you really should care about other people enough to do something small like this.

Now before anyone misinterprets this or tries to co-op it for exclusionist purposes here's some notes

Self-made systems are real and valid and also they're not giving themselves a disorder. Self-made plurality as a cultural and healthy practice is acknowledged indirectly in the DSM5 as being separate to DID/OSDD1 for people who still worship psychiatry.

I do Not condone fakeclaiming or harassment and will not tolerate it in this space. Any interaction that makes an attempt to so much as insinuate that self-made systems are not real systems or are less valid than other system will result in an immediate block.

[Going to also go ahead and say don't reblog this actually, I think if this one breeches containment it's going to be ugly and I don't feel like having to make a bad faith discourse blocklist actually]

[nobodymitskigabriel]

Hating Lucifer gang 🤝. I also hate Lucifer for obvious reasons (being a shitty character in late season and being playing by Mark P) but i wish i hated him because he was a compelling and interesting character to hate like he was in s5. He's pretty firmly irredeemable and that's why i think it would have been interesting for the writers to play with an "ostensible" redemption arc where the audience think maaaaybe thats the direction his character is going for a bit because yeah God and Michael's reasons for locking him up (disobeying authority) were not morally sound BUt even if Lucifer is sympathetic in that respect he's still in the wrong and he's still a monster not because of "who he is" but because of the things he did. He doesnt NEED to be a cartoon villain for Jack to come to the conclusion that he's a monster and making one of the most compelling monsters on the show into a caricature dampens ANY message that the show tried to have about morality in his case.

The thing about the Cage and the Ma'lak box is that the reasons Lucifer and Jack were locked up were very conceptually different. Like Lucifer created demonkind and tried to exterminate humans but fundamentally he was locked up as punishment for disobeying his Father. Heaven holds itself to be a moral authority by making Lucifer a scapegoat and demonizing him as a symbol of everything opposing God. We as the audience don't necessarily find the principle behind his imprisonment just, but we condone it because he is actively hostile to humans and their existence depends on him remaining trapped.

While Jack being locked up was as our favorite lawyer Saul Goodman would put it "an Old Yeller situation". His family didn't feel morally righteous for locking him up because he's more a victim of circumstance than a malicious actor. It's interesting how Heaven as an institution is active in the imprisonment of both Lucifer and Jack. Where Lucifer was imprisoned by the authority of Heaven for disobeying God, Jack was imprisoned by the authority of the Winchesters for hurting people while obeying the authority of Heaven (Duma's manipulation). It's important to point out that the Winchesters do serve as a moral institution on the show in a similar way that Heaven or Hell do. Regardless of whether we find them justified or not they reserve the right to do practically anything they feel like they need to to someone if they deem their actions suffiently monstrous. I mean this is basically the same thing they did to Doc Benton in 3x15. It only differs in Jack's case bc they didn't feel morally superior for taking that path but felt like their hands were forced.

It would've been interesting if Jack hadn't broken out of the box to see the hemming and hawing around what solution that would be whether its keeping him locked up, finding a way to kill him, or taking a chance on letting him out to explain. We know Dean was willing to drop himself into the ocean so if he thought Jack was an adequate threat to the world I think it would be consistent of him morally to have that position. It does feel even more demented because in the case that the Winchesters did decide to lock him up forever they're essentially signing him away to become the monster that we knew he didn't need to be.

But when it all came down to it in s15 even though they had some sort of half baked message about rejecting God's authority they never broke down or questioned any of the institutions at play. Jack himself became the authority of Heaven and presumably the world goes on as it always did where Heaven is inherently righteous and Hell is the place where the sinners burn and the Winchesters (or, uh, Sam) continue killing "monsters" practically indiscriminately and then when they die their souls end up in Heaven. Round and round we go.

I'm having thoughts faster than i can articulate them but i hope this is even half coherent did not expect this to get long winded oop

It's like so many of Jack's decisions are colored by naivete or shame. And yes those things are very core to his character but I also feel like the writers were afraid to give him too much unadulterated autonomy because they didn't want to make it seem like Jack would consciously make any sort of "evil" decision.

Like yes killed someone but it was just a freak accident! He trusted Lucifer but he just didn't know any better! He killed Mary but he didn't mean to!! He was feeling overwhelmed and got away from himself :(. He went on a killing spree but he didn't have a soul and was being manipulated by Duma </3.

Even more personal decisions like "choosing" to give up his soul to kill Michael are muddled by the fact that his family was literally up against the wall and he had never been learned to value himself to the point where he'd even consider preserving his soul above his family lives. And "choosing" to become a bomb to kill Chuck because....hello? He was literally so overwhelmed with shame that he'd march himself to slaughter to earn Dean's forgiveness.

I really feel like Jack's character would have benefited a lot from more autonomy bc jfc the cambian Jesse Turner had more autonomy than Jack.

Let's take Sam who was pretty strongly paralleled with Jack in a lot of respects. Yes Sam dealt with manipulation and shame as well BUT in s4 Sam made active decisions like continuing to trust Ruby, use his powers, and drink demon blood. Things that Chuck explicitly said would make him seem "unsympathetic" to the audience. During the whole demon blood arc there were times when the audience wasn't even sure who was telling the truth or who's was in the right. Maybe Ruby is good. Or maybe Sam IS actually going down the dark path.

We as the audience realize that there was a chance Sam never came down from that high. If things were different maybe he could have gotten drafted for Azazel's evil army or Lucifer’s enthusiastic vessel and that's what makes his decision to finally counter "his nature" so powerful. Even after he freed Lucifer, Sam felt ashamed but he still advocated for himself and his decision to jump into the Cage to trap Lucifer again was not colored by a need to have Dean forgive him.

I think this is partly where all the incessantly babying of Jack comes from. Instead of getting to see him deal with any real moral crossroads and come to a decision, he's bombarded by outside forces and "acts out" to the point where his arc is more comparable to an orca than a person.

[kazuhasbunny]

Ok, first off I'm going to clarify that I am in fact not the same anon you were complaining about however I do want to correct your definition of pro-shipper. It definitely does not mean that they ship children with adults, nor is it shorthand for problematic shipper. The term actually came about a few years ago in opposition to anti-shippers, the ones who would harass people for shipping certain things that they didn't like, regardless of if it was problematic or not. In fact in most of these harassment cases the ship in question wasn't problematic at all. This was particularly common among fangirls who shipped certain gay ships within a series and would go around bashing and harassing anyone that shipped things that 'competed' with their ship. I am aware that urban dictionary isn't the most credible of sources but quoting their pro-ship article Pro-shipping is "the practice of not shaming or harassing over fictional ships." To clarify using a very succinct definition from Twitter "a pro-shipper is just the opposite of an anti-shipper. A pro-shipper is someone who doesn't care what other people ship or what characters they stan because pro-shippers know that it's just fiction."

What this means is that pro-shippers don't necessarily support any ship in particular, nor does it mean that they find every ship completely and totally okay, or that it doesn't disgust them or whatever. What it means is that they are of the opinion that no matter what someone thinks about fictional characters, it really doesn't matter all that much because they are fictional. You are allowed to be disgusted by ships. You are allowed to think they are morally wrong or whatever. But at the point at which you are wishing genuine harm upon and sending death threats to actual people because of their opinions on fictional ones there is an issue. You are in charge of and responsible for curating your own online experience. If you dont like a ship for whatever reason, whether you think it's problematic or it's just a ship you don't want to see content for because you don't care for it, great, block the tags for it, maybe block a few blogs if you feel the need and be done with it. In a case like the one that seems to have started this where someone approaches you with content you are uncomfortable with in your asks or whatever, block them if you can, and if you can't either delete and ignore them or respectfully but firmly respond that you do not like, condone, or wish to engage with that content and ask that they leave you alone. Most people will tend to respect a request like that if you don't immediately threaten them and escalate the situation. Pro-shippers are just those who think that the people telling others that they deserve death and "should be shot on sight" in defense of fictional characters are causing way more harm than the ones they are raging at. The moral outrage and performative activism are unnecessary. I don't mean to be disrespectful or hostile, and I do apologize if I came off that way, but I did want to at least make sure that if information is going to be spread, it should at least be accurate. Sincerely, a pro-shipper who is tired of getting death threats just for not caring about how people ship made up characters

im sorry but why are u even on my blog the first place 😕 i will be kindly asking u to leave , i do not want any proshippers on my blog . ever . idc if this is the real explanation or whatever i don’t care please .... leave

[lennydaisy]

EPIPHANY // OUTER BANKS

The Outer Banks. Paradise on earth. Well, it is if you can afford it.

Figure 8, home of the portentous and intitled. So detached from reality that you'd have to use their private jets to bring them back down to the ground. If they're not lounging around on their secluded beaches in front of their White House sized mansions, then they're at the country club complaining that their ice-cold lemonade isn't ice-cold enough. We call them Kooks. Guess where I don't live?

Next up, The Cut, neutral habitat of, drum roll please ladies and gentleman... The Pogues. Lowest members of the food chain. You see, it's one island divided in two. You either have two houses or two jobs. I have two jobs and will still never be able to afford one house, let alone two, but that's life I guess. The Pogues are like those kids your parents tell you to stay away from when you visit the park. Well, now the park has stretched to all aspects of life warranting us to be unwanted and neglected which isn't such a bad thing, that just means we get to do whatever we want, whenever we want.

Right now, however, this is the last place I want to be. Save-A-Lot. One of my two jobs. See how this all ties in?

The continuous, subtly, beeping of the scanner, the bright overhead lights that the same moth has been flying into for a week now, that one cart that you can hear before you see, and this frustratingly itchy, red polo shirt that I'm wearing because it's 'oh-so mandatory'.

It's been reported that a storm is going to hit us in a couple of days, so naturally, the stores been busier than usual, with both Kooks and Pogues. It's like sacred land, all differences get put aside in this very store unless there's a two for one deal at the seafood counter. In that case, no one's safe, not even me, the poor, little employee. I've been slapped with a Tuna Fish before. I don't want to talk about it.

"Can I interest you in some... What are they again? Sea salted chocolate with a crushed Macadamia nut shell and a rich creamy filling, homemade by Mrs Adams?" I squint at the packaging before smiling at the man before me who peered at me, head tilted slightly. Nodding instantly, already knowing the answer, "I don't blame you, I wouldn't trust anything made by that lady."

Smashing my fingers on the scratch invested, touch screen register, slapping the side of the machine until it eventually rings up the total, "That'll be $148.98 however, you get the extended family discount, so that makes it..." twirling my finger around the air, attempting the mental math, "10% off $148," I utter, closing my eyes as if that's going to help me find the answer quicker. 'I knew I should have joined the math team with Pope.'

"$134," the man affirms looking at me sympathetically, halting my search for my calculator that is normally taped to the till. I take the mans money, squinting at him, "Okay, I'll take your word for it man but if I get fired, I want a job at The Wreck," handing him his receipt.

"We'll see," he said putting his packed bags back into his cart, "I'll get through to you one day. You can't deny I'm your favourite" I state in a matter of fact, waving him off as he pushes his cart away from the checkout, "Bye Mason."

"I don't hear you denying it," I shout, watching him hurridly pushing his cart towards the door, "Okay bye Mr Carrera, tell Kie I said hi!"

Twirling around in my chair a couple of times, I came to a stop at the sight of a pink calculator, my pink calculator, taped to Mrs Adams till. That Bitch. I sit patiently for her to be done with her customers, waving at the elderly couple as they pass, "See you later Mr and Mrs Graham, have a nice day," I smile.

"Oh you too Mason, you should stop by again, you and your friends were such a delight the last time," Mrs Graham praises tapping her ringed fingers on my counter. Nodding at her request as her husband began to drag her away from me, claiming he 'Wants to be home today not tomorrow,' knowing his wife to be quite the blether.

"What a pleasant young lady. Wouldn't you agree, Marty?"

"Oh yes, very well mannered."

"Listen here, sticky fingers, I know you stole my calculator" My smile instantly dropping as I look upon the thief that I have the pleasure of calling my co-worker.

Mrs Adams is your typical grandma. Tonged hair, thick-rimmed glasses and filled with opinions that are always unwarranted. She has had it out for as long as I can remember, once locking me in the walk-in freezer claiming to not know I was in there despite being in there with me moments before. At least I only have to deal with her a few days a week, I couldn't handle any more than that.

"What calculator?" she questions innocently. Pointing my finger accusingly at her till where low and behold, sits my calculator, "Oh really, what's that then?"

Sparing a glance at my calculator, she shakes her head, nose pointed up, "That's an anniversary gift from my husband. I, by no means, stole your calculator."

I can't believe I'm having this conversation.

Laughing at her alibi, "Are you aware of how much bullsh-", the clearing of a throat interrupts my tangent and I suddenly became aware of where I am again. Mrs Adams raises her eyebrows at me, is she mocking me? Glaring at her one last time as to say 'this conversation isn't over', I timidly spun my chair back around, plastering a smile on my face, getting ready to greet my next customer.

Oh no.

"Hi, Mr Cameron," I greet the man, scratching behind my ear hoping he didn't overhear me. Beginning to scan his items, another figure catches my eye.

Rafe.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, I present the biggest dickhead on the entire island. He thinks everybody owes him something just because his daddy is well known throughout the OBX and has no problem expressing his distaste for anyone who doesn't fit his agenda. He's a cocky, arrogant snob who needs to be knocked off his podium a few inches, or feet.

"Hello, Mason, and how many times have I told you to call me Ward?"

"Clearly not enough for me to listen," I mutter under my breath, passing the already packed bags towards a very accepting Rafe, who snatched them with a scrawl printed on his face, "Your face will stay like that if the winds change" I advise innocently, waving my fingers around my forehead area, "Don't want to get any wrinkles, but if you need some anti-ageing cream, I'm sure Mrs Adams can recommend a few of her favourites,"

"Maybe even get you a coupon," I suggest finishing to scan the last of their items, "Isn't that right, Mrs Adams," I called to the lady over my shoulder how instantly peeped up at the chance to chat with the boy.

"Oh, yes. Come here deary, I'll show you my collection,"

It's no secret throughout the OBX that Mrs Adams is a bit of a renowned cougar, having no problem expressing herself towards any sort of male attention. Mrs Adam doesn't discriminate, so even assholes like Rafe can't escape the clutches of her fondness, but she's harmless... most of the time.

Ward nudges his son in the direction of the lady, who is eagerly waiting for the boy with her creams placed in an orderly fashion before her. Rafe's eyes practically begging for his dad to have some mercy on him only to earn a point in her direction.

"I hate you," he huffs at me, feet dragging towards the ladies till.

Fluttering my eyes with a cheesy smile, "I know," I say before turning to finish Mr Cameron's groceries.

"That's $236 please," I state ringing up his total as he slides his card into the swipe machine, "It'll take a minute, a caveman has better technology than this place." He shakes his head at me, waving his hand slightly, understanding.

"Sea salted chocolate, uh?" he wonders picking up the bar, as I mentally slap myself for forgetting to ask if he was interested, "Would you like to buy one?" I questioned despite already knowing his answer. It's the same one that I've heard all day.

Placing the packet back in its place he shakes his head, "No thank you, I wouldn't trust anything made by that lady."

"That's what I'm saying," ripping off his receipt before handing it to him, "Thank you, Mason," he laughs before turning towards his son, who is still listening to Mrs Adams ramble on about why she prefers Olay over Caudlíne.

About to bid farewell to the man, he turns and asks, "I hate to be a bother and I know it's short notice, but would you mind babysitting Wheezie for me on Saturday morning, I know you don't normally work weekends, it's just this storm's going to cause a run-in with my properties and-"

"Of course I will, Mr Cameron," I interrupted his ramble. He looks at me relieved, nodding his head, "See you later, Mason."

"Bye Ward," gross, I'm sticking with Mr Cameron.

Watching as the pair walk past my till I can't help but laugh as I see Rafe slouching away with a tub of Olay Anti-ageing cream. Turning around at the sound, he flips me off, "I'll get you back for this," earning a shoving on the shoulder from his dad, but I can't help but wave cheerily, "Oh, I'm sure you will."

Mr Ward Cameron, my other boss. A few years ago I put up flyers with a tear-off of my phone number offering a babysitting service. Safe to say, I got my fair share of prank calls and when I got a call from someone claiming to be Mr Cameron I assumed it was someone messing with me again, but it turns out it wasn't. He genuinely needed someone to watch his youngest daughter Wheezie and I needed cash, and he does pay generously, especially now considering recent circumstances.

Glancing at the clock that is nailed above the exit I see that it's 2:00 P.M, the best time of my day, getting out of here. Grabbing the key from my pocket, I lock up the till before heading toward the poor excuse of a staff room.

Glancing around the room blue painted room, making sure no one is still on their lunch, I quickly grab my bag and dash over to the fridge. I never, and mean never, condone stealing, that's why I don't call it that. I prefer 'borrowing and then 'forgetting' to give it back'. Sure, I never asked if I could 'borrow' the alcohol that I am currently stuffing in my bag but, that's neither here nor there.

I throw my bag, which I can already tell is going to cause my back hell, over my shoulder. I grab Kie longboard, which I did ask for permission to use, and begin to make my way past the checkouts.

Before leaving, I pivot around, "Hey, Mrs Adams," I called out just to see that she was already glaring in my direction, a bit creepy if you ask me, "Don't worry, you've only got like what, another 6 hours?" acting like I didn't know as I pointed at the clock.

"Oh, and before I forget," I rush over to her counter and rip my calculator off her till. Smiling sweetly at the older lady, saluting her as I leave, "See you next week, Mrs Adams," I laugh, running out the door, jumping onto the longboard.

Let the fun begin.

Now there is something about my friends that you should know. As cheesy as its sounds, we're a group of misfits who happen to fit perfectly together, well almost perfectly, but no matter what we've got each other backs.

Now, where do we start?

JJ Maybank. We've been best friends since the third grade after he got into a fight with some kids who were making fun of me for having a 'boys name', and I haven't been able to get rid of him since. He's the guy who jokingly pushed me off the HMS Pogue only to quickly find out that I couldn't swim. I insisted that it was fine but JJ doesn't take no for an answer and took it upon himself to personally teach me.

He's the most loyal guy I know, willing to drop anything to help his friends. I most definitely developed my kleptomaniac tendencies from him and despite how much I deny it, I have a soft spot for him.

Next, Kiara Carrera or Kie, my best and only girl friend. I met Kie during her first year at the Kook Academy, I had seen her around before, passing out leaflets about how 'we're killing our planet' and that 'the turtles deserve better'.

I was about to go fishing with my dad when I saw someone sitting at the dock, feet dangling in the water. Long story short: she was supposed to meet up with some of her 'friends' but they had sailed away leaving her behind. So, I asked if she would like to come fishing with us, half expecting her to say no, being partly a Kook and all, but she said yes. And now she's one of us, the Pogues. Not sure how her parents feel about that, but there is no denying I'm their favourite. Right?

There's Pope Heyward. I met Pope in the first grade. We were sitting beside each other at assembly and he dared to tell me that my singing voice sounded like cats dying, not that he was any better mind you. I had seen him around the cut a few times, helping his dad with deliveries and after seeing him struggle to carry four bags of groceries, I offered him some help. Of course, being a stubborn 6-year old boy, he delined saying 'I don't need your help, I'm super strong'. Safe to say, two seconds later I was carrying two bags and helped Pope and Mr Heyward with the rest of the deliveries that day.

I got an earful from my dad when I got home, but I didn't care, I'd made a friend that wasn't my brother. They didn't believe me when I said I had a friend called Pope, just brushing it off as one of my imaginary friends. Let's just say they got a fright when my 'imaginary friend, Pope' showed up at the Château.

Speaking of, up next, John Booker Routledge, John B. My twin, fraternal twin. Is 12 minutes older than me and will never let me forget it. My favourite memory with John B was when he fought to the death with our triplet in the womb. Okay, maybe that didn't happen, but you weren't there so, where's your evidence that it didn't?

He's my other half, not my better half because we all know I'm the better twin, and I couldn't live with him and his optimism. He can be irrational at times, but he always has plan A-Z mapped out in his head. I'm currently trying to convince him that we psychic powers, and by currently I'm mean from the day we were born. It's a weird sensation like there's a pit in the bottom of my stomach, and once I get that feeling I know that something's not right. And with a brother like John B, I get that feeling at least 3 times a day.

Might as well introduce myself whilst I'm at it. I'm Mason, Mason Routledge. The better twin. Yes, I too, have a middle name but I will never tell it to anyone because of how utterly embarrassing it is. I have managed to swear John B to secrecy, but I know it's just a matter of time before he blurts it out.

Now I know what you're probably thinking, 'Mason? That's a boys name.' Well yes, you'd be right but really what is a boys or girls name? The reason why I'm called Mason is simple, mom and dad were expecting twins. Twin boys. They had the names planned out as soon as they heard the news. One would be named John B after our dad, Big John, and the other would be named Mason, after our mom's dad. Makes sense, right?. Well, it was until I popped out, y' know not being a boy. But I love my name and I wouldn't change it for the world. My unspoken middle name, however, yes, I would rather that just not be associated with me.

I like to believe that I can hold my own, maybe it's because I grow up in a predominantly male household or the fact that I'm a Pogue, but I don't take peoples shit. My friends and I seem to always have the world against us, but without a doubt, I'd ride or die for them. They're my family.

Seeing the all too familiar hippie van parked at the side off the road brings me out of my autopilot state. Jumping off the longboard, I hurriedly shoved it into the back of the van. Fun fact about John B's van, he never locks it. There would be the fear about someone stealing it, but honestly, it's trashed and smells like weed, no thanks to JJ.

Quickly scaling the fence and as quietly as possible I tip-toed into the under-construction house and up the cement stairs, dodging the dangling wires and leftover pots of plaster.

'I can't believe they got rid of the turtles for this'

I'd know that voice anywhere. Peering around the corner, I spot Kie, hunched over a table reading what I'm assuming is maps for the house. Coming up with an idea, I slowly start to creep towards her, raising my hands just to clasp them down on her shoulders, "And what do you think you're doing?" I say in the deepest voice I can muster.

Jumping out her skin with a squeal, she spins around, hand over her heart, breathing heavily, "Macy, what the fuck? Don't do that," she exclaims, slapping my arm after she realises it was only me.

Unable to stop myself from laughing at her shock, "God, Kie, didn't know you had such a girly scream," I wheeze, arms wrapped around my stomach in an attempt to stop the ache.

Nodding her head pettily, "Yeah okay, you got me," clicking her tongue, but against her best efforts, a small smile dances across her face.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm my giggles, "Once you're done with sad girl hours, come out back, I've got beer," making my way towards the open glass doors.

"Caring about the turtles doesn't make me a sad girl," she exclaims as I nod my head understandingly, "You keep telling yourself that," I wave stepping outside, breathing in the fresh ocean breeze.

From under the scaffolding, I see a pair of dangling legs, "Afternoon, boys," I announce, jumping up in an attempt to smack the dangling feet that I now know belong to JJ

"Did you get the goods?" asks John B causing me to hold my hand on my heart, mocking insult, "Do you have no faith in me Johnny boy," tosing him a beer, "Of course, I got the goods."

Holding one out for Pope, even though I knew he would decline, proving my point as he shook his head, "And where did you get said goods?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

Grabbing two beers, I begin to climb up the scaffolding, plopping down next to JJ, handing him a beer which he greatly excepts, "Are you question my morals?" I ask, taking a big gulp of my beer instantly wincing at the lukewarm taste.

"No, no," I hear him say, turning around, occupying himself with the builder's tools.

It a pretty view from up here. The calm crashing of the waves. The way the cold ocean and the warm sky meet for a perfect kiss on the horizon. Imagine living here. Having no worries. Being full Kook.

Glancing at the boy beside me, I see that he was already looking at me. Lifting my eyebrows in question, "You look cute," he cheekily says, picking at the loose thread on my sleeve.

"Very funny JJ," I saying, looking back out at the water, "No, I'm serious. I love a woman in uniform," nudging his shoulder into mine and I nudge him right back, "Hey," he laughs, dramatically falling to his side, "Watch the sweet nectar," holding his can of beer dearly to his chest.

Shaking my head, I turn to see John B scaling the house, jumping up to the peak of the roof, "Hey, please be careful, Johnny B, we don't earn enough to cover a medical bill," I warn sitting my beer beside me, using my hands to block the blinding sun, staring questionably at the boy.

"Oh, but you'd catch me though, right?" he says, now taunting the idea of falling, balancing on one foot with outstretched arms, "And break your fall? Nope," I popped, reach over to grab my can only to grasp the air. Looking at where I know I placed it, my confusion vanishes when I hear the sounds of slurping beside me.

Blinking at the boy, who just peers back at me after tanning my can, crushing it, and letting out a pleasant burp which he so graciously blows in my direction, "Gross, JJ," attempting to swat away the smell. The boy just shrugs, "What were you not done with that?" faux concern covering his face but his eyes glistening with knowing mischief.

"Should I do it?"

"Yeah, jump. I'll shoot you on the way down," says Pope, aim a drill in my brother's direction, "You'll shoot me?" John B taunts, holding up a finger gun, "Pow," he laughs as Pope fall back onto the table pretending to be shot.

"They're going to have Japanese toilets with towel warmers," complains Kie, slugging her way onto the balcony, voicing her distaste for the future Kook's beach house.

"Didn't I tell you to come out when you were done being sad?", I direct, leaning my chin against the cold pole, feeling on top of the world as the fresh breeze blows through my hair.

That swiftly changes when Kie dashes towards my feet, tugging the laces on my converses loose as I hastily attempt to lift my feet away from her snapping fingers, "Go away!" I exclaim hugging my legs to my chest, tusking at her antics "God, you're annoying."

My comment doesn't affect her as she blows me a kiss which I can't help but catch, holding it to my heart sending a wink in her direction, "This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtle I guess?"

"Well, I did, but since you've-" I start, but the feeling of my shoe gets tighter distracts me, "...What are you doing?" I question as JJ finishes up my shoes, "You should double knot your laces," he comments, tapping his fingers in a random beat on the toe of my shoes.

Lightly, I begin to flick his hand away only for him to grab my wrist, fiddling with the silver ladybug charm on my bracelet, "Can I have this?" He has asked me this multiple times in the past and the answer has always been the same, "No."

"Can you please not kill yourself?" Kie squints up at my brother, "And don't spill that beer, you're not getting another one," JJ adds just as a sudden gust of wind brushed past causing John B to lose his balance and drop his beer.

Jinx.

"Oh, shit. No!" cries John B, making grabby hands at his fallen beer.

"Of course you did, like right when I told you."

"Smooth."

"Well done, dumbass!"

"Hey!"

The sound of a car pull up to the driveway halts our attack on John B, yelling being heard, "Hey, uh, securities here. Let's wrap it up," confirms Pope, making JJ and I raise to our feet as John B slides off the roof, "Boys are here early today."

Rushing over to grab my bag once my feet are back on the balcony, I lean over the railing squinting, "Gary? Is that you?" I asked, "You know it's me, Mason."

Turning around to look at friends, "It's Gary guys," I smile, "Gary, good to see you, man!" JJ adds and quickly pulls the back of my bag when he sees Gary climb up the stairs, "JJ!"

"You two, are asking for it," Kie laughs as we all rush back through the house, all of us laughing and cheering, running down the stairs, "Go, go!" I giggled as I Gary's attempts to grab me but I duck under his swinging arms, running out to the garden.

"Not much of a hugger man," JJs joke echoing off the empty wall of the house.

Running up beside Pope, I urge him up over the fence, "Come on, Pope, go, go, go," landing on the other side, watching as he lands flat on his face, "Graceful as always Pope," I giggle pulling him back on his feet.

"Come on Pope, Fatso's coming" JJ encourages, suddenly landing beside us just barely missing the hot-headed security who is dangling over the fence, "Come here, you little pricks!"

"Bus is leaving," John B pulls up the van honking the horn, Kie opening the door for us, laughing as we shove each other in. John B wastes no time hitting the gas, driving away from the angry security.

"Check out Gary, gunnin' for a raise," Pope laughs as we watch a hopeless Gary chase after the van.

Having an idea, JJ unzips my bag and leans out of the open door, "Come on Gary," he taunts, waving the beer can in front of the man like you would a dog with a treat.

"You're going to give him a heart attack," Kie sympathises but still finds his actions amusing, "You're so close! You can do it. There you go," he tosses the can at the poor man who attempts to dodge it.

"God, they don't pay you enough, man" I laugh peering out the door, taking in the sight of Gray who is wheezing with his hands planted on his knees.

Seeing enough torture for one day, Kie tugs us back in, "That's enough," she says finally feeling sorry for the poor man, sliding the door close.

"Oh, come on. That sort of initiative is just begging to be punished," reasons JJ, plopping down in the back of the van, now finding interest fiddling with the blunt he pulled from his back pocket.

I lean my head on Kie's shoulder and sigh, "I love Gary," I confess, earning a flick on the head from Pope and a nudge on the leg from JJ

We're the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time, all the time.

Prologue: FIN!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to explore Mason’s character and her adventures with the Pogues. I have so much planned for her.

I hope you enjoyed this introduction <3

[john1513kjv-blog]

Mario Lopez speaks out on Pager U about transgenderism and the idea that parents are letting their children to choose their own gender, to which Mario says, it's dangerous to let your child choose their gender when they're not old enough to make such decisions.

This is what he had to say:

“Look, I’m never one to tell anyone how to parent their kids obviously, and I think if you come from a place of love, you really can’t go wrong.”

“But at the same time, my God, if you’re three years old and you’re saying you’re feeling a certain way or you think you’re a boy or a girl or whatever the case may be, I just think it’s dangerous as a parent to make this determination,” he continued. “Then, well, okay, then you’re going to a boy or a girl, whatever the case may be … It’s sort of alarming and my gosh, I just think about the repercussions later on.”

The 45-year-old entertainment host explained that when you’re that young “you don’t know anything about sexuality yet, you’re just a kid.”

https://faithit.com/mario-lopez-dangerous-kids-pick-own-gender/

Reading this, I would applaud for his statement because if we're gonna be responsible parents (as a privilege given by God), we're are to guide our children in the right way (in the way of serving and loving God) and leave the discussion of sex and gender when they are older.

Children are not mentally prepared for things like that neither they should be thinking like that.

However, sadly Lopez had to "apologize" for his statement on children picking their gender. Because his fame is much more important than God.

In a statement to PEOPLE on Wednesday, Lopez apologized for his remarks.

“The comments I made were ignorant and insensitive, and I now have a deeper understanding of how hurtful they were,” he said. “I have been and always will be an ardent supporter of the LGBTQ community, and I am going to use this opportunity to better educate myself. Moving forward I will be more informed and thoughtful.”

https://www.google.com/amp/s/people.com/tv/mario-lopez-criticized-comments-parenting-transgender-kids/amp/

This is no surprise to Christians. We are called to stand by the truth, and proclaim the gospel to those who are lost. Anyone who denies this stance concerning sexuality, is ultimately denying Christ.

Matthew 16:25-26 KJV

25 For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.

26 For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

Am I saying that telling an LGBT person this precious truth, is hate? No. Disagreement does not 100% equal hate. We are called to love our enemies and pray for those that persecute and hate us. But by no means we should shrink away from the faith because of the majority will be against you for standing for the truth.

To any of the LGBT people who will see this post, I will let you know: I don't hate you. No, in fact I will not stand for unjust treatment of LGBT kids rejected by their families. But, at the same time, I won't say that I will condone that behavior, because that's not how God created you to be.

Genesis 1:27 KJV

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

The truth is, we inherited the sinful nature of Adam and Eve, and not it caused a wall between our relationship with God, it affected our relationship with our fellow man, including our sexual relationships and how we identify ourselves.

I don't think anyone of us realizes that identifying ourselves anything other than the gender we were assigned to since birth, is a form of hatred towards God, when He had loved us and considered us His most precious treasure.

God knew us before He "formed us in our mother's womb" (Jeremiah 1:5) and has determined who we are, personality and genderwise.

And sadly, because of our rebellious, sinful nature, we choose to reject God's ways and decide we can choose our gender. God doesn't want this for His creation. He wants us to live with Him, and fix our relationship with Him. And unless there is anyway to undo this constant rebellion, any sinner (including LGBT people) that doesn't acknowledge this as an act of sin, will not be part of the kingdom of heaven.

1 Cornithians 6:9-10 ESV

Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality,10 nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.

So you're probably asking, "How can I even hope to enter heaven if God says that anyone including LGBT people who does these things can't enter there"?

Well, I have good news for you. God has provided a way for all of us to really enter heaven. How he did it?

John 3:16-17 NKJV

16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him [obeys His word] should not perish but have everlasting life. 17 For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.

Because God loves all of you so much, that He gave His Only Son [Jesus], who He also love, that you will feel that nothing in this world, even what you identify as, will never satisfy your needs. The only one who can fill the emptiness in your heart, is Jesus. Who took the hit for you, for the punishment of sin. It was our sin (including homosexuality) that crucified Him, and it should have been us who should be crucified there. But Jesus decided to take our place there.

Because of LOVE!

It was love that by what He did, is so we can have a second chance to enter heaven again and have a relationship with God, like a father who is waiting for his rebellious son to come back.

Because God loves us so, He will not force His love towards those that don't want it. The beauty of how He created us, is that he gave us free will and the freedom to choose of we want to follow and obey Him, or choose our own way, but end up lost forever.

I hope that even someone out there, may see this that may have the hope and desire to be right with God again.

God is calling you home! The only question remains, do you want to return home?

[geekgirles]

My opinion on Kagami

I've been wanting to do this for a while, and the latest leak we got from Jeremy only gave me more reasons to share.

Now, know that I'm not trying to roast anybody or shaming them for their opinions under any circumstances. I just want to share mine.

Nowadays, my thoughts on her are... complex. The easiest way to sum this up would be with the same point many other fans experience through Lila: hate her character but love her design. Please, put the knives down!

I don't hate Kagami, but I'd be lying if I said I'm happy with the way she's being handled. From my point of view, she's very cute! From all her freckles to her bright brown eyes... Not to mention her clothes! I totally saw one of my dream outfits in hers. In terms of view, what's not to like?

Now, the way she's currently written... That's another story.

In my opinion, she's kind of gone downhill since Riposte. Then, we got a glimpse of what a healthy love rival looked like. She acknowledged Adrien's fondness of Marinette in no time, didn't show signs of falling head over heels for him at first sight (no easy feat for this show, tbh) and didn't treat Marinette as a threat right away! Bonus points for fencer girl!

But ever since Frozer... Kagami's character has turned from determined and serious to judgemental. There's nothing wrong with a character being cold and confident, especially if they're supposed to be good guys, but by then she had started being just another love rival.

Why is this so important to me?

Well, leaving aside the importance of the romantic factor for a show based on the confusing love story of its two main characters, because I took Feri's words to heart. Kagami and Luka were supposed to be charming, well-rounded characters, not just love interests. And yet, I get to see that in Luka a lot more than I do in Kagami.

This meant a lot to me because every single love rival Marinette has had so far has been/is a jerk to her! How are we going to show young girls that love rivals aren't the same as sworn enemies if a show directed to them portrays just that!

And don't tell me that's just how girls act because if it's wrong to let boys insist on asking out a girl who is clearly not interested so is letting girls cat fight.

Back to the point.

While I myself prefer to see Kagami's interaction with Marinette as tough love/advice, both Thomas and Feri explained she basically told her to step up her game, or Adrien's hers. Which, yeah. Can be both advice AND a threat. This last statement comes from the fact that Kagami's last interaction with Adrien in Frozer turned out to be Kagami deeming Marinette as unworthy of Adrien's affections. Hence, the "When you see you're wrong [about your target], I'll be there" moment. She basically told Adrien Marinette was the wrong choice.

And then, there's Animaestro. Now, I do not condone Chloé and Marinette's actions at all. But Kagami was no saint either. While there's no denying Marinette and Chloé gave her the stink-eye first, she was just as jealous as them and fueled their insecurities when she took Adrien's arm, which is nothing bad itself, especially since it didn't make Adrien uncomfortable (take notes Chloé & Lila), but it looked as a "take that" move, y'know? And she also kept giving Marinette the stink-eye whenever she was around Adrien, to the point where she looked outraged by her mere presence. Things we've seen before in Backwarder, for example.

And... *sigh* how could we forget Oni-chan?

While her rage in this episode was righteous and it wasn't directed at Marinette, it portrayed Kagami in a light that didn't make her justice. It could be argued jumping to conclusions makes her more human, but don't say it's something we only saw in this episode because this whole post is about her making assumptions of Marinette. But I must admit this time took the whole cake! Her anger was terrifying. But I need to pretend the plot-convenient plot holes don't exist for a minute to talk about something: that reaction was way over the top.

It would, of course, be understandable if we were aware Kagami's met Lila before and she thinks of her the same as Marinette does. But that's not the case. Then why does she react like that?! You'd expect that after hearing Adrien practically gush about Marinette and finding her almost everywhere they go (sometimes even per Adrien's request), she'd be more sold on the idea of Mari being the one he loves. Yet, the only explanation I've found online is that she thought Lila was his girlfriend. Hello???? Wouldn't it be the normal thing to do to wonder just who the Hell is this girl you haven't even heard of and calling Adrien to find the answer? Well, apparently not.

And now that we know Kagami will be the Dragon miraculous holder I'm a bit disappointed. Don't worry. It has nothing to do with all this. It's because it's... predictable. Way too predictable.

On the one hand, it's true a friend of mine and I headcanoned she could get the horse miraculous, and I'm a bit bummed out about it. But for the most part it is because of how predictable it is.

Leaving aside their faces, which is where the heroes become more obvious to us, the viewers, if we take Marinette's Ladybug costume, there are still clear differences between her hero self and her civilian self. While still using polka dots, they are far less numerous or notorious than Ladybug's and, most importantly, her main colours are white and pink, as opposed to the superheroine's red and black.

Kagami, on the other hand, uses red and black as her primary colours in both outfits. And, on top of it, she's an Asian fencer, so the fact that she wields the Dragon (clearly Asian-based) miraculous which includes a sword is such a surprise...

But seriously! I don't hate her!

She clearly has some great moments such as when she helped Marinette up, or as I call it, the "move I'm gay move", or when she stood up against Chloé. It's just that her role in the Love Square doesn't look like it's balanced. Kagami can be hostile to Marinette and fuels her insecurities, as opposed to Luka and Adrien's chilled interactions and Luka's effect on gradually making Adrien see Marinette as more than just a friend.

Well, as always, I'll guess we just have to wait and see.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

so i saw your post about artists still drawing willc, and i understand the viewpoint (i am also disappointed by lack of willr content) but i felt i should maybe provide an artist's perspective! personally, while drawing characters i like, i fall into a groove with it. they obviously became fans (perhaps far) before willr was jerm and they cultivated willc in their style already. i've gotten to a point where i don't even reference characters anymore, how i draw them Is That Character for me

i don’t follow you and just peeped your blog realizing you make art and shit that sounds condescending now cause i didn’t know you were an artist! and also although i have my Main Base characters i draw, i like to branch out to explore newer actors in the roles, so it’s still kind of disappointing there’s almost a rift between jeremys. (also ps your art is very good and cute i hope you have a nice day)

i really accept no Good Faith arguments about why there’s a noticeable lack of Specifically Roland Jeremy depictions. like, this isn’t even about individual artists; i don’t need every single person who draws a conn-style jeremy to justify it or Prove that it’s not about rejecting roland jeremy. the issue is the emergent discrepancy between them + the fact that we Do see people make adjustments for visual changes and new castings seen in 2.0/3.0, even allowing for jeremy’s new costume (or voice…..) while still retaining Will Connolly’s Appearance. which in itself is not necessarily the work of the devil but we Do see that it is A Choice that people make 

there’s never any reason someone is Actually Incapable of learning how to draw anything differently. god knows we all wish that we really Could settle into a routine with the way that we draw and feel comfortable at home base but even if you do draw the exact same characters all of the time, your style evolves and your abilities improve and you really Can’t not adjust the way you draw. and inevitably we have something new we have to learn how to draw and yes it’s frustrating not feeling like you “know” how to draw it but like. if you try to learn you can. and artists will keep pulling out the “well i don’t have as much experience drawing _____ so i’m never going to draw that way” to justify some kind of nonsense about why they can’t possibly depict a fat person and it’s so totally reasonable to just imply they can’t even Make An Effort……like, not drawing some Unusual Perspective or not putting realistic folds in clothing b/c you don’t have much practice / don’t really feel like it isn’t the same as “i shouldn’t have to learn how to draw people with characteristics i’m not already used to drawing” b/c obviously a Lot of issues crop up with this that aren’t relevant with stuff like “i’m not used to drawing shoes so i’ll draw them the exact same way always”

in this case there is the way too pervasive issue that people have honest contempt for will roland because he does not look or sound a way they consider adequately Cute / attractive and that is the entire nuance of it. we’ve got people out here imagining justifications and making up objectively false arguments about why actually It’s Bad And They Dislike Him /(As Jeremy) Because ___ but then you really do have people flat-out owning it that they don’t like him b/c of how he looks. this is the Entire Issue. if this wasn’t a factor then we’d see a more balanced ratio in terms of The Way People Are Willing To Imagine This Character. there’s only two guys to have played this role (and only very recently several appearances by alternates) and while the fanbase exploded on the connolly look and sound, there’s been like. a whole Year of will roland jeremy and if the only issue was “it’s difficult to learn how to draw a new person” then, well, there’s been time to practice. 

again i accept no arguments that so many people are refusing to draw will roland jeremy In Good Faith. this isn’t about individual artists; the Trend or Pattern inherently requires looking at a whole group to be discernible

like, i don’t really search out bmc fanart, so what i come across is a pretty random selection of recent-er works, and i’ve very very rarely seen Only 1.0 Cast fanart, yet i’ve also very rarely seen Clearly Roland Jeremy fanart. people are willing to learn to draw characters in a new / multiple ways, but there is this unwillingness to imagine jeremy the way he looks as played by will roland because yknow. god forbid you compromise the mental image of a willowy conventionally prettier jeremy

honestly and it also feels like a rare occasion when i see a jared that looks all that much like will roland in particular. obviously there’s a lot more options re: people who’ve played the role and so like, okay. but at the same time it’s wild that like, the Collectively Imagined Usual Depiction Of Jared does not share that much in common with will roland besides being a white short-haired brunette in glasses. it’s like, wonder of wonders when someone’s fanart of jared is clearly based on Either of the two principle broadway actors for the role. stuck between a rock (non conventionally attractive white guy) and a hard place (he’s totally skinny! but he’s black, too!) on that one i guess

also i have one resounding complaint to make about people drawing Ostensibly-Will-Roland

the roles he’s played which receive the most fanart are obv jared kleinman and jeremy heere………….these are both canonically jewish characters……..would it absolutely kill people to ever ever ever draw a nose like how will roland’s nose actually looks Especially in these cases. sometimes we Do get examples of people drawing not-will-connolly jeremy but The Nose Looks Nothing Like Will Roland’s and it’s like oh. well that’s fantastic. we’re just defaulting to generic white brunette with “acceptably Cute small narrow upturned nose” some more then, okay, i cannot condone this

gods sake when i see a would-be 2.0 / 3.0 jeremy like

that honestly hurt me to make btw…..look noses are a challenge to draw and basically all of us simplify them but if your Shorthand Nose For Absolutely Everyone looks like the above please think about this. noses that are deemed Too Wide / Flat / Big / Hooked / Downturned are also deemed bad / ugly and like, get over that and don’t subscribe to it or propagate it. there’s no such real thing as ugliness or Objective Attractiveness and the concepts are Not at all apolitical liiiike

please everyone be conscious and analytical towards how you draw people and whether you think you have to “censor” certain physical traits and don’t use the justification of “it’s hard to learn how to depict ____” like yeah it’s hard drawing is always hard we’re all trapped in hell together, learning how to be better drawing something that we didn’t use to have any practice drawing is how anyone ever draws anything at all ever so like. it’s not an argument about why someone Can’t draw something. you only Won’t draw something and you can have good / neutral reasons behind this or terrible reasons and plenty of people won’t draw will roland looking like will roland because they think don’t think he looks cute and that’s it.

[moonlit-maiden]

Hi. You wrote this on a post "Now, gay couples are the norm to the point where I hardly see any straight pairings, honestly (different issue for another time though, the fetisization of gay fan couples)." Can you explain, please? Because my experience is quite the opposite, where m/m pairings are frown upon (for being gay fetish or male worshipping) but the straight and f/f ones are celebrated. Don't you think it depends on the fandom? I would love to read your thoughts on this topic. Thanks.

Sure, not a problem! I’m always down for a discussion. :)

You make a fair point; the particulars of a fandom may change what is “the norm”. Now, full disclosure, I am in almost exclusively anime and manga-based fandoms. I have never been into a fandom of a Western-based media such as shows, movie franchises and books. However, I do see things crop up and discussed about Western media fandoms so I like to think I’m not totally out of the loop.

What I’ve noticed from my experience is this; m/m relationships are overwhelmingly popular and viewed positively. In Japan, there is a term for female fans who enjoy consumption of m/m media; fujoshi. I’ve used it a few times. It’s also meant as an insult, not a compliment, From my understanding, the term came about because these female fans (which cover a large swath of age ranged, from teens to grown middle-aged women) would be quite rabid about their m/m pairings. This rabid preference would also show up in non m/m, also know as yaoi or BL (boy love), anime shows and manga fandoms. I have seen this behavior in many fans of Western media fandom, though unlike in Japan, both males and females may act like this (though it is still overwhelmingly female). Growing up, most of the most popular ships in various fandoms I was a part of or tangentially touched (such as Harry Potter) were m/m. Sometimes their popularity outweighed the canon couples. I’ve also seen (and still see) the common practice of taking an established straight male character and pairing them with another male character who may or may not be straight. By doing this, the canon girlfriend also tends to be vilified which... I do not condone at ALL.

Meanwhile, I’ve seen a big reduction in m/f pair in fanfiction. Whether canon, fanon or even OC/canon, it’s decreased quite a bit over the last... 5??? ish??? years. Strides in LGBT rights in the West and gay relationships becoming less taboo I feel is the cause of this. This is my speculation though! I feel m/f fanfiction is almost silently disapproved. The reason I feel this way is due to something I’ve experienced. I tend to write m/f fanfiction. Usually an OC and a male canon character (I, on principle, never separate canon pair no matter the orientation). In the late 00s, I was frequently updating a fanfiction I was writing for a manga series called Tsubasa by CLAMP. When I first started uploading, there was almost no m/f fanfictions. It was overwhelmingly KuoFai, the uber popular m/m fan ship of the series. However, after several months, as my story became popular, I noticed a sharp uptick in m/f stories for the fandom. When I was forced to stop writing due to real life things taking my attention, then was a sharp downturn soon afterwards. I feel my continuously uploading a m/f-centric story gave courage to others to try their hand too. This wasn’t to say the m/m fics stop (far from it) but it’s a curious phenomena. In addition, I’ve seen MANY posts of people in various fandoms and even of people in the writblr sphere on here blatently state they find m/f ships/relationships boring at best, abusive at worst (dunno where the “abusive” thing is coming from what that is a minority thankfully). So in my experience, m/f ships seems to be looked down upon in fandom.

As for f/f, I almost never see it. f/f (aka yuri) is pretty rare on its own within the anime and manga fandoms. Its fans are primarily male and a couple of male friends of mine who are yuri fans have told me the community tends to keep quiet as they are often seen by female fans of a fandom as “creepy” when most of the time it’s simply an appreciation of the relationship. It’s within the f/f sphere that the concern for fetishzation of lesbian and bi women is a more prominent issue. Meanwhile in the m/m sphere, it’s almost never talked about when there are many cases of fetishzation. A double standard I guess.

Again, this is based on my experience, which is overwhelmingly in the anime and manga community. It may very well be a bit different in Western media fandoms but I personally don’t think so if ships like Drarry, JohnLock and Wincest are still strong despite the fandoms being older.