#he may not have a criminal record but this is because he has escaped the record

[hanzajesthanza]

regis casually suggesting they desecrate tir ná beá arainne, an ancient and sacred elven mausoleum, just because he wanted to see what was up inside

[deliciousangelfestival]

Underworld Insomnia || 2 - Bucky Barnes

Character : Bucky × Psychiatrist Female!Reader

Summary: As a ruthless contract killer, Bucky is feared in the underworld of criminals. His opponents freeze when they see him, as he is feared among them. However, they don't know that he could be warm to only one person: his psychiatrist. The only person who could make him fall asleep.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,-

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

As Bucky extends his offer for you to work alongside him, Dr. Ben intervenes, blocking and standing between both of you. With a swift slap to Bucky's hand, which hung in the air, Dr. Ben firmly states, "No touching!"

You and Bucky are taken aback by Dr. Ben's assertiveness. Bucky raises both hands defensively, retorting, "I'm not touching her."

"Good," Dr. Ben responds sternly. "Because almost all my former female employees quit because of you."

Bucky scoffs, knowing all too well the strain his reputation puts on his relationships. A killer like him can't have normal interactions.

You join the conversation, hesitant and afraid to work with Bucky, especially without Dr. Ben's permission. "Um, and I have a working contract with Dr. Ben too," you add, your voice trembling slightly.

Bucky may have backed down for now but hasn't given up. He continues attending therapy sessions and resumes his missions in the underworld.

In a quiet factory, while immersed in his work, Bucky takes the opportunity to read up on your background. Surprisingly, there's nothing out of the ordinary. You have no criminal records and seem like a normal citizen. But something doesn't sit right with Bucky.

What is a seemingly ordinary person like you doing working with Dr. Ben?

Suddenly, Bucky senses something and instinctively dodges a bullet aimed at him.

Wait, did he just dodge a sniper bullet?! Even Bucky can't believe himself. He realized his senses were heightened as a side effect of finally getting some sleep. Next, he swiftly evades a knife attack, catching one of the knives in mid-air.

His opponents are shocked by his swift movements.

"Did he just dodge my bullet and catch the knife mid-air?" one of the killers whispers in disbelief.

"Fuck, I knew he was good, but not at this level. Run!" another killer exclaims, terrified.

Before the other killer could make their escape, one of the snipers, through the lens, observed Bucky's swift and precise movements as he took down their team. After incapacitating them individually, Bucky turns his gaze in their direction.

"Did he just look at us?" Killer 1 whispers in disbelief, feeling a chill run down his spine.

"Impossible," Killer 2 responds, his voice trembling with fear.

"I think he did. He's running towards us," Killer 1 insists, panic rising in his tone.

"Get into the car!!!" Killer 2 shouts, desperation evident in his voice.

Their escape attempt fails miserably as Bucky swiftly catches up to them and finishes his mission with flying colors. The client is thoroughly impressed and rewards Bucky with a substantial bonus.

Bucky relishes in the feeling of success and satisfaction, feeling lighter than he has in years. He attributes this newfound agility and focus to finally getting some sleep.

Realizing the importance of continuing his sessions with you, Bucky picks up his phone to make a call. "Evening, Doctor. I want to make an appointment," he says, determination evident in his voice.

After the close encounter, Bucky returns to Dr. Ben's office and requests a session with you, intrigued by your presence and the mysteries surrounding your involvement with Dr. Ben.

Bucky settles into the comfortable armchair in Dr. Ben's office, feeling a sense of calm wash over him as he listens to you reading another children's story. The soothing cadence of your voice lulls him into a state of relaxation, and for the first time in years, he feels the weight of exhaustion tugging at his eyelids.

As you begin to weave a new tale, Bucky's mind drifts away from the troubles of the underworld and into the world of fantasy and imagination.

"Once upon a time, in a magical forest far, far away, there lived a curious little squirrel named Hazel," you begin, your voice gentle and inviting.

"Hazel was no ordinary squirrel. She had a boundless curiosity and a sense of adventure that often led her into all sorts of exciting escapades. One day, while exploring the forest's depths, Hazel stumbled upon a mysterious clearing filled with sparkling crystals and shimmering streams-."

As you continue to spin the tale, Bucky feels himself drifting further and further into a peaceful slumber, the cares of the world melting away with each word you speak. For the second time, he embraces the sweet embrace of sleep, knowing that anything is possible in the world of dreams.

The next day, Bucky wakes up feeling more energized than he has in years. He sees you and offers a grateful nod. "Thank you," he says sincerely.

You respond groggily, still feeling the effects of the previous night's session. "Glad I could help," you mumble before walking away.

As you depart, Bucky can't help but notice the anxiety that seems to linger around you. Despite the calmness in your voice while reading him the bedtime story, he can see the tension in your movements and demeanor. It sparks his curiosity, wondering what could be causing your unease.

Bucky's heightened senses pick up snippets of your conversation as you answer a call. "I'm sorry, dear. I will go back soon. Did you already have dinner? Good," you say softly.

Bucky hums to himself, realizing that you have a boyfriend. That's why you keep your distance from him. Despite this revelation, he can't help but feel a pang of disappointment.

Another day, another mission was successfully completed. Bucky returns home at midnight, feeling famished. He opens his fridge, only to find it empty. Scouring for instant food yields no results either. Ordering delivery is out of the question, given the secrecy of his address.

With a sigh, Bucky returns his shoes and jacket, preparing to venture out to a 24/7 fast food chain for sustenance. As he walks, he notices the moonlight illuminating the night sky, and he realizes that despite the hour, he still feels energized and not at all tired.

It dawns on Bucky that he can only sleep if he books another session with you. He longs to see you again, to experience the calming effect your presence seems to have on him.

Suddenly, his heightened senses kick in once more. He turns around and sees someone running while clutching something tightly. From the sound of their breath, it sounds familiar. Slowly, he recognizes it as your voice.

But why are you running? Is someone chasing you?

Bucky's instincts kick into high gear as he follows the sound, determined to uncover the truth and ensure your safety.

You clench the blanket tightly in your arms, your heart pounding with fear as you never thought they would find your hidden place. With desperation driving you, you run to the alley in a bid to hide.

But your efforts prove futile as you're too slow, and before you know it, you're caught, and your neck is strangled. "Urgh," you grunt in pain.

The other person, wearing a mask, speaks coldly to you. "Stop this hiding game. Just accept the offer."

Gritting your teeth, you retort, "You can't kill me. I work in the grey zone."

In the underworld, the grey zone is a safe haven where criminals can't kill. People like you and Dr. Ben reside there to help criminals live better lives. That's why you ran here to hide and joined Dr. Ben, seeking protection.

The man in the mask counters, "But you're not one of them," as he grabs his gun and points it at your forehead.

Closing your eyes tightly, you hold onto the blanket for dear life, preparing for what you believe will be your last moments.

Suddenly, you hear a grunt of pain from the man in the mask. When you cautiously open your eyes, you see a familiar figure standing before you. "Barnes?"

Bucky looks at you, holding a bloody knife, while the man with the mask lies on the ground, bleeding from his neck.

"What are you doing here alone? And what's with that blanket?" Bucky asks, concern evident in his voice as he surveys the scene.

Finally able to catch your breath, you realize that the adrenaline rush had allowed you to run away swiftly and carry heavy objects without breaking a sweat.

Slowly, you gently put down the blanket and reveal its contents. Bucky is taken aback by what he sees—a kid who appears to be around 4 years old, wearing oversized glasses.

The child's cheeks are flushed red like tomatoes as he gazes at you and then at Bucky. "Are we safe?" he asks with a tremor in his voice.

You offer an uncertain response, "I guess."

The little kid adjusts his glasses and glances at the man in the mask, who lies dead on the ground.

The little kid, with a surprising level of composure, observes the man's neck, where the fatal wound is evident. His eyes narrow in concentration as he takes in the scene, resembling a professional forensic analyst in his demeanor.

"From the angle and depth of the wound," the child begins, his voice surprisingly steady, "it appears that the assailant aimed for the carotid artery, ensuring swift and fatal bleeding. The lack of defensive wounds suggests that the victim was caught off guard, possibly indicating a sudden and unexpected attack."

His astute observation awakens Bucky, marveling at the child's keen perception and analytical skills.

Bucky remarks, "Is he a walking encyclopedia?"

The little kid adjusts his glasses again and carefully examines Bucky from head to toe. His gaze is astute, almost unnervingly so, as if he's dissecting Bucky's entire being with his eyes.

This is the first time Bucky has felt judged by a child, making him uneasy.

After a moment of silence, the little kid speaks up, his voice surprisingly mature for his age. "You have the build of someone who is physically adept, likely skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Your posture suggests confidence and self-assurance, but there's also a hint of weariness in your eyes, as if you've seen more than your fair share of battles."

Bucky is taken aback by the child's perceptiveness, feeling vulnerable under his penetrating gaze. As Conroy's gaze lingers, he notices something else—the telltale signs of sleep deprivation etched into Bucky's features.

"There's a weariness in your eyes, a restlessness that speaks of nights spent in turmoil," The kid observes astutely. "You can't sleep, can you? Despite your strength and prowess, there's a vulnerability in your inability to find peace in slumber."

Bucky's shock deepens as the kid's words hit uncomfortably close to home, exposing a vulnerability he's kept hidden from the world.

The little kid continued, unfazed by the reactions of both you and Bucky. "You're also a playboy and interested in my sister," he remarks matter-of-factly.

His words catch you and Bucky off guard, leaving both of you momentarily speechless.

Bucky finally manages to sputter out, "Kid, what the heck?"

"I'm not a kid. My name is Conroy," the boy corrects, his tone firm and mature beyond his years.

Then, with a pointed finger, he directs his attention to Bucky. "You're a predator."

Bucky gasps, feeling a surge of shock and disbelief wash over him. For the first time, he finds himself rendered speechless by a child's words, his usual confident demeanor momentarily shaken.

Bucky exclaims, "Wait, you have a brother?" He hadn't seen any mention of it in your record.

Conroy begins to respond, but your hand swiftly covers his mouth before he can continue. "Stop it, Conroy," you interject firmly, shooting him a warning glance.

Turning to Bucky, you apologize, "I'm so sorry," your voice tinged with embarrassment and regret.

Your hand gently removes from Conroy's mouth, but the tension in the air remains palpable as you and Bucky exchange uneasy glances, uncertain of what to make of the unexpected revelation.

With a helpless look in your eyes, you turn to Bucky and plead, "Mr. Barnes, could you please help us?"

Your voice trembles slightly with desperation as you appeal to Bucky for assistance, hoping he will offer his aid in this unexpected predicament.

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Author Note:

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[ninyard]

how do you think andrew and aaron’s relationship changes after the trial?

(i’m so annoyed i wrote a really long detailed answer for this and then stupid tumblr mobile got rid of it so lemme try again)

i think that after the trial andrew and aaron’s relationship changes for the worse, for a while, until both of them are in a place to make it better.

aaron disappears for a while after the trial - he goes away with katelyn, maybe staying with her parents or in some hotel in a state far away from south carolina. they spend some refreshing time together without the crushing weight of the trial haunting their every second. he cries a lot, that week or two, every now and again hit with the relief of freedom and the guilt of knowing he did kill someone, at the end of the day. he may not be guilty, he may be free, but a man died by his hand. it’s so fresh as well, everything having been recounted over the past week and a bit. but it’s the first thing they do when he gets home after they receive his not guilty judgement; they leave, and he doesn’t talk to anyone other than her for however long they go for.

before that, during the trial, aaron breaks down after andrew’s testimony. he knew it would be hard but hearing it out loud, so detailed, so monotone. andrew doesn’t fuck around with the lawyers. he says it like it is, he states the facts. aaron was expecting him to be a nightmare on the stand, but no, he’s perfect, he’s telling them everything, oh god he’s telling them everything. it destroys aaron. he’s wrecked with guilt, thinking about how much andrew has done for him in his life, how little he feels he’s given him in return. and he can’t stop thinking about everything all at once; remember the way andrew sleeps? with his back to the wall and a knife under his pillow? how he can’t stand those certain words, how he can’t be touched? how he was when you met him for that first time? how he was when you started living together?

it reframes his entire relationship with andrew, his entire view of him as a person, and it kills him to think about how his brother actually went through this. he’s not lying because he thinks it’s funny, he’s telling the truth. after andrew testifies, until the end of the trial, aaron is a numb emotionless mess. every second of his days are spent thinking about andrew andrew andrew. the guilt he feels over causing this, causing andrew to talk about his past, the past he kept well hidden for an obviously good reason. he can’t look andrew in the eye, not because he necessarily views him differently, but because it hurts him so badly to remember the words that left his lips on the stand.

andrew is the same, in some ways. he already isolated himself for a week before the trial, staying in wymack’s place, not talking to anyone for fear the sickening feeling in his stomach would escape. he takes to the stand, and he’s shaking, but he can’t look at anyone other than the lawyer. he can’t look at aaron, who sits with his mouth ajar beneath a hand that covers it in shock. he can’t look at neil, on the right side of the room, trying his hardest not to react to the excruciating details. he can’t look at cass, on the left side of the room, her husbands hands intertwined in hers, a tissue in her free hand blotting the leaky eyes she’s had since day one. he can’t look at the jury, judging him for his criminal record, for his mental health, for his sexuality and his past.

when he leaves, he doesn’t even talk to neil. he gets in his car, he drops them all off at fox tower, and he immediately drives to reddin. he doesn’t say anything to betsy, either, but he sits next to the window in her office and smokes his way through a packet of cigarettes for an hour or two before he’s able to bring himself to leave. he still goes to the rest of the trial for aaron’s sake, but every time he hears a whimper from cass on the other side of the room, he feels sick. everytime he hears drakes name, he hears the lawyers trying to pin a murder charge on his brother, it twists him up inside. he has as much anxiety about the verdict as aaron does. he feels guilty about what he has caused, too, fearing aaron going to prison because he was protecting him. because he killed the man andrew had been dreaming of killing for years.

the trial ends, and andrew stays with wymack for another few days until he’s ready to return, and he speaks to betsy in some manner every day for a week or two, whether it be via a phone call or an emergency session.

when aaron comes back, they avoid each other unintentionally. mostly unintentionally, anyway, but neither have anything to say. there’s no words that’ll be enough. aaron cancels their next few sessions with bee, and andrew doesn’t seek him out at all. i think for a while after the trial neither of them can stomach looking the other in the eye, and it’s not just because of andrew’s testimony, either, it’s everything altogether that causes this terrible drift they’d been working hard to repair.

the first time they talk to each other again is six weeks later in bees office, where andrew finally looks at aaron and says, i’d do it again to keep you here. and aaron loses it. he sobs, apologising and melting down, and andrew hates it, but bee steps in to stop him from stopping aaron. it’s not enough, it never will be, nuts it’s the first step on a looooooooong road they have together. but they understand each other that little bit more, and in the end i think it makes them closer. it just takes a very, very long time to get there.

[very-grownup]

NUMBER 5

Don't dismiss Dongfang Qing Cang as damaged goods and a collection of red flags just because he killed his father, waged war on the heavens leading to the deaths of thousands or maybe even hundreds of thousands, and then spent 30,000 years in super jail for the waging war on the heavens leading to the death of thousands or maybe even hundreds of thousands. Rehabilitation is important, otherwise what is the point of prison sentences that aren't explicitly until the end of time? If a man has served his time or otherwise escaped his prison sentence, should he not be judged on his behaviour going forward? A man with a clean slate?

If you look beyond the immortal criminal record, dating Dongfang Qing Cang will … still not be easy. He has been emotionally dead for tens of thousands of years and may be focussed on revenge, but luckily escaping prison involved swapping bodies with someone who did not get put into the torment cube at a young age and still has access to her emotions and none of the powers Dongfang Qing Cang has used to do all the slaughtering, so revenge can be postponed while feelings are discovered.

Dongfang Qing Cang will initially be in the body of the Fairy Orchid and also sometimes after initially, so if you're serious about dating him, it's recommended that you become comfortable with a minor amount of genderfuckery. But what's a better early demonstration of the sincerity of your regard than showing interest in the man inside, beyond the exterior packaging (although all exterior packaging is impossibly lovely)? It also speaks to his positive inner qualities that, aside from the lack of access to his incredible font of powers, Dongfang Qing Cang handles being in another person's body with maturity. He is not easily distracted from his goals and if you can establish a connection with him, you can be one of those goals (complimentary).

Once Dongfang Qing Cang starts feeling positive emotions again and recognizes what they are, if you date him, he will be all in for a relationship, marriage, children, whatever will make you happy. He will learn how to make your favourite foods, he will give you any treasure that catches your eye, he will surround you with flowers, he will offer to execute entire societies that have failed to see your worth.

If you can manage to date Dongfang Qing Cang, you probably should date Dongfang Qing Cang.

Go on to Number 4?

Go back to Number 6?

Skip to the end?

Or return to the beginning with Number 15?

[satancopilotsmytardis]

22. "Show me how much you need me" and a kink huh..... Maybe...begging? or choking? Idk have some fun!

(I'm still in the process of writing my comments for network btw it was just to good and I've fallen in love with it, so thankyou for writing it and sorry the comment is taking so long!)

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: E

Contents: Catboy!Dabi, mating cycle/heat, begging, implied marathon sex, sex toys, multiple orgasms, petplay, feminization

Dabi's life is a joke. Some sick, cruel god thought it would be funny to make a creature that wasn't made to survive and then Dabi spent every second fighting against that asshole's will to make it anyway. And it always sucked. Want a great quirk, kid? Too bad, burn on a mountain. Oh, you survived that? Replaced and homeless. Huh, you're still alive, and you've managed to get a good thing going with a little found family of criminals? Oops, you're a cat now. 

Because yeah, in the middle of the skirmish in Deika, Dabi had gotten blasted by a wayward quirk during his fight with Geten. And he's a cat now. Or more accurately, he's a heteromorph now. He was lucky he didn't get a big lungful of the gas because it would have turned him entirely into a cat if he had. What's less lucky is that the retractable claws, slitted pupils, fangs, tail, and extra ears are permanent now. Should have worn off after a couple of hours, but according to Ujiko, due to the skin grafts and treatments he received in his coma, you know, when he'd been considering turning him into a nomu, his body was more susceptible to changes like this. Which was the doc's nice way of saying he'd fucked around with Dabi's DNA and made his cells ready to receive some new code, but he'd escaped the hospital before that happened and this quirk had gone and filled in the blanks. And without extensive gene therapy that would take months, if not years and may prove fatal, Dabi was stuck like this. He's a cat now. Fuck his life. 

That's not to say being a cat is all bad. He definitely hadn't wanted to be a cat. But the inhanced senses are nice, and holy fuck does fish taste better now, plus getting pet is awesome-- even if Tomura is the only one he lets do it because it makes him purr like an idiot. Of the curveballs he's been thrown in life, this one has been one of the least horrendous, so he sucks it up and moves on with his life. And everything is pretty normal for the most part. They get things resituated with the PLF, he adjusts, and things are actually better for the League than they have been, possibly ever.

Until he starts waking up at night with the others pounding on his door telling him to shut up. Actually, they had been nice about it the first couple of times, asking if he was hurt or having nightmares or something, but he hadn't known what the fuck they were talking about. Absolutely thought they were gaslighting him as some kind of prank before Toga showed a recording of his door, and the awful loud feline yowls that had been coming out from the room, cutting out only after she pounded on it to wake him up. He has no idea why he's been, apparently, screaming in his sleep. He hasn't even had all that many nightmares lately, certainly not often enough to account for a solid week of screaming. 

He also starts to have the urge to rub his cheeks against things. His phone, his pack of cigs, the pillows in his and Duster's bedroom, the rest of the League. Keeps getting distracted and nuzzling against them, which they're being better sports about than the yowling thing. Even if he does hiss at them when they try to pet him while he's doing it. Usually snaps out of it at that point and excuses himself to be mortified elsewhere. He also keeps finding himself outside. Just walking. Keeps catching himself trying to scent the air like he's looking for something, and it doesn't do him any good. He can't find what he's looking for and he ends up back in the villa incredibly cranky and angry that he's going back to an empty bed. And then the cycle starts again. It's so bad and strange, that when Duster is finally finished with his latest round of treatments, Dabi goes to the doctor's lab to pick him up, just so he can see him as soon as possible. 

He gets there and finds Ujiko in the tank room with their new batch of High Ends, his lover out of sight. "Ah, he's sleeping off the sedation from his last treatment. Once he wakes you two are free to go." Dabi is about to go find somewhere to sulk until then, but reluctantly asks instead, 

"Been feeling weird lately, Doc, you got a minute?" Not thrilled that the mad scientist who was preparing to make him a monster is his only source of medical attention, but he's Dabi's only source of medical attention so he's going to suck it the fuck up. 

"Of course!" Hates how excited the mad doctor sounds about that and takes Dabi to one of the actual rooms and makes him sit on the table like he is a real doctor and Dabi is in for a normal check-up. The doctor draws blood, goes through the usual steps, and Dabi tells him about the weird cat behaviors that he's been dealing with lately while one of his weird advanced machines processes his blood. He doesn't like the way that his brows creep higher and higher as he speaks, but Ujiko just tells him, "Let's see what your bloodwork says." 

When that's ready, he reviews it and makes those humming 'ah fascinating' sounds the whole time which only serves to make dabi more irritated, his ears pinning back and tail flicking as his claws bite into his pants. 

"It seems as though you may be experiencing a... heat of sorts soon." 

Of every fucking thing that the doctor could have said to him, that is not one that Dabi would have guessed in a million years. "A what?" His brain reboots quickly, "That's not possible, aren't heats for girl cats?" 

Ujiko hums in agreement. "They are. Traditionally male cats don't have a mating cycle as such-- but they can react to a female cat's hormones even from quite a distance. There are other feline heteromorphs, it's possible that you're reacting to those pheromones, someone may be bringing more in through the villa, or, perhaps," and his tone changes to a little more careful in a way that sets every one of Dabi's nerves on edge. "There is some behavior or stimulus that you have been in contact with frequently that has had a... placebo effect, making the newly accepted cat DNA a bit confused about which behaviors it should be exhibiting in regards to sexual presentation." 

Dabi is about to make him fucking elaborate on that when the door opens and Duster comes in. Always is a bit paler after spending a week with the doctor, but he's dressed and got his prosthetics on, so he's probably ready to go. Blinks when he sees him. "Firefly, what are you doing here?" 

That's it, my pretty pussy, purr for me. 

Such a good girl, kitten. Taking my cock so well. 

Needy little thing, arching your back so cute. Pushing out your pretty tits. Just begging to be fucked full, aren't you, princess? 

"I'm going to murder you." He says in loo of anything else. And Ujiko just clears his throat and moves along with Duster's pre-discharge check-in. 

///

They get back home and go through work with Dabi hissing and snarling at Shigaraki any time he speaks to him. Duster, for his part, once Dabi had told him what the doctor said to him, had just looked vaguely amused about the whole situation. And the worst part is, the doctor was definitely right about the pseudo-heat. Because as soon as Shig is back, even though Dabi wants to be very, very justifiably angry with him, he's immediately so horny that it's distracting. When he's not actively snarling at his lover while they're in catch-up meetings, he's biting the insides of his cheeks bloody to keep from purring at him, or yowling, or trying to rub up against him to put his scent on him. And he's barely keeping himself from getting noticeably hard the longer the meetings go on. He's going to lose his mind if they aren't finished with this soon. 

It's a big surprise when, instead of him breaking and just forgetting the other lieutenants are very much in the room in favor of climbing right into Tomura's lap, that it's Toga who suddenly gives a loud, agonized groan and whines, with her hand covering her nose, "Can we please be done now?" And he realizes abruptly that her sense of smell is as strong as his. He hisses at Duster for making this situation even more mortifying. Shig looks between the two of them with clear amusement and concedes, dismissing everyone with a wave of his hand. Then he stands and gestures for Dabi to follow. If he weren't fucking gagging for it, Dabi would have told him to fuck off. Instead he immediately follows after him, an embarrassing feline whine slipping out of his throat in plain earshot of all of his co-workers. Spinner and Twice start to howl with laughter, but he's gonna have to kill them after he gets Tomura to rearrange his guts. 

As soon as the door to their room is shut, Dabi is pressing up against his lover. Loud, needy yowls leaving him as he rubs his cheeks against Tomura’s, against his neck, over his shoulders. And he's already hard just from the press of their bodies and the smell of his lover in his nose. Can't stop himself from grinding his cock against him too so he can feel how badly he needs it. 

"Oh, kitten," mewls so loudly when his hand goes to his hair, scratching nails just right around the base of one of his secondary ears. "After how rude you were before--" 

"Tomura," he whines. 

Catches his ear and gives a mean little tug. Just enough to hurt, and that almost makes Dabi's legs drop out from under him, his arousal spikes so sharply. Barely been alone for a minute and Dabi is so desperate that he'd happily cum in his pants, fucking his lover's thigh just to get some relief. "You really are just a needy whore, a bitch in heat, aren't you, princess?" 

"Yes, sir," he agrees immediately. His whole body feels hot. Not the way his quirk normally makes him, but in a tingly way that is making an ache expand out across his skin. Centered at his-- he gives a mortified little mew. Oh god, he's empty and that hurts. He needs Sir's cock inside of him. Needs his cum inside. 

Tomura's smiling at him, that lazy, mean smile that already turns him on nearly past the point of coherency when he's not in some animalistic state of mind. "Show me how much you need me, kitten." And Sir steps out of his space, watching him expectantly. 

Show? His mind feels hazy. He can do that though, he can show his mate how badly he needs him. His hands are shaking as he starts to shrug out of his clothes, made even harder because he can't put away his claws, but he manages to start shedding layer after layer until he's naked as he moves as fast as he can over to their bed. He's frantic as he grabs their lube and yowls loudly when he sees Tomura taking his sweet time to come over to the bed, chuckling as he undoes his tie. Fine. Dabi scrambles onto the mattress, trying his best to make his claws go away, but when he can't he gives up. Gets on his knees, spreading his legs wide, his tail pressing up along his back, and his shoulders and face against the sheets. His cock is throbbing and dripping a steady stream of pre, so much that he's already making a puddle on the bed. He whimpers loudly and uncaps the lube. Can't open himself up with his claws out, but he still spreads it over his hole. The first touch of fingers there makes him moan desperately and nearly forgets himself in the need to be fuller. Only is stopped from tearing himself open because Tomura's hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him gently away. 

"Oh, kitten, that badly?" 

It's all so overwhelming. He's never felt like this before. Is a slave to the needs of his messed up body again. Dabi can't help it. He lets out a weak sob, nodding his head as bloody tears slip down his cheeks. Tomura makes a soft worried sound, but then there's the rustling of fabric and the mattress dips. He presses along the length of Dabi's body, peppering kisses to the back of his neck. "Okay, princess, you're being such a good kitty, I'm going to help."

 And then there are fingers against his hole. Dabi purrs as they sink inside of him, trying to sniffle and choke away the tears. But he needs it so badly. Normally the stretch of his mate's fingers is needed before he can have anything else, but he needs to be full. His fingers aren't enough right now. Dabi rocks back against them, mewling and making a whole litany of feline sounds in his desperate need to be given what he really wants. Gasps, and whimpers, and sobs louder when Tomura shushes and pets him, kisses along his back, wraps his hand around his cock and starts to stroke him slowly and deliberately. But it's not enough, and Dabi accidentally sinks his claws into the back of his hand when he reaches to get his touch away from there. He needs more in his cunt, not that. Just needs to be fucked full. Get his mate's cum so deep inside of him, oh, just the thought has him meowing pitifully. 

"My pretty kitten," definitely worried now. "Are you hurting, baby?" 

Dabi manages to nod with another sob and Tomura coos and shushes him, fingers pulling out of his needy body much sooner than he normally would think necessary to take his big cock and the rough fucking Dabi needs so, so badly right now. "I'm going to help you feel better," he promises. "Going to give you exactly what you need, princess." 

And he finally, finally does. Tomura fucks him hard, Dabi purring and rocking back into every movement, pleasure so sharp it hurts, he can feel it pulsing everywhere in a symphony that sends his human mind so far away he can't do anything but let his instincts drive. His claws sink into the sheets, past them, into the mattress, and the sounds coming out of him are all animal. They don't mean anything to his mate, but to him, they're a constant spill of his desperate need. They echo around his skull, begging to be mated, to be fucked so full, to have his mate's cum pumped deep inside of him over, and over, and over again until he knows for certain that he's been fully bred. Dabi doesn't cum until he feels Tomura's release splashing wetly against his walls, and then he immediately collapses onto the bed, into the wet spot, fingers going to his now empty hole, wanting to keep as much of his cum inside as possible-- and only then realizes that that wasn't enough. That it didn't feel right as he pulled himself so quickly off of his mate's softening cock. It should have hurt. Something human tries to float up to tell him that, no it should not have, but his feline brain is positive it should have. That if it didn't then that means it wasn't right. He needs it again. 

He manages to get it another three times before his exhausted body gives out, but he's still not satisfied. It still felt wrong. And by the time Tomura has cleaned him up, even licking at his cheek to try and get him to purr, and put him into their clean bed, he's mewling weakly and crying again softly. 

Whatever amusement Duster had over the situation is long gone now as he pets him and holds him close, rubbing their cheeks together. "Dabi, can you tell me what's wrong? I can't help if you don't use your words, kitten." 

He sniffles, pressing in closer. "Wrong, n-not full enough. Hurt, Tomura--" stops with another loud yowl.

"What hurts, sweetheart?"

He shakes his head. "Need it, should hurt." And that makes Tomura tense against him, holding him a little tighter. But he keeps stroking his hair, soothing him, until Dabi falls into a fitful sleep. 

///

He wakes up screaming for it again, looking immediately for his mate, but he doesn't have to. Tomura is climbing back into bed with him, and pressing gently between Dabi's shoulder blades. He immediately drops back onto the mattress, pushing his ass up the way he'd presented before. Oh! There's already something inside of him. It's not very big, but it's there, and his mate eases it out of him, letting Dabi feel that he's wet already too. He purrs like a chainsaw when he realizes that means he can have his mate's cock immediately. Tomura starts to press inside and Dabi sucks in a sharp breath. 

And then he moans so loudly he nearly loses his voice. Tomura's cock is perfect. It's so big, always big, but it has a different texture now something that's just the right amount of sharp so that as he fucks into his pliant, desperate body, it hurts the way he'd needed it too. He purrs so loudly, losing himself to how right it feels now to be bred by his mate. 

Manages to cum much more easily than he did before, and when he's all filled up with his mate's cum, his hole aches as he pulls out and that sensation quells his intense need. He's able to roll over and sees that Tomura is wearing a neon green cock sleeve, littered with modest spikes along the whole length of it. 

"Whuh?" He manages very intelligently. His mate leans down and gives him a kiss. 

"Read up on cat behaviors, thought this might help. Was that better, kitten?" 

Wraps his arms around his neck so that he can arch and rub their bodies together from head to toe, tangling their scents all together as he purrs and nods. 

Tomura kisses his cheek, and then rubs them together, making Dabi's purrs go even louder as his tail coils around one of his legs, as if he could get him any closer without having him back inside of him again. "When this passes we can stop playing with feminization, firefly. Make sure it doesn't happen again. I'm sorry." 

Dabi shakes his head. "Don't want to stop. Like being your pretty kitten," just the thought has his cock starting to swell again and his hole tightening unhappily on how empty he currently is. "But if I get pregnant I'm killing us both. No hesitation, Shigaraki." 

Duster chuckles, "I checked in with the doctor again, not a possibility unless you grow a lot of new organs, baby. You haven't felt any intense abdominal or pelvic pain?" 

"Uh-uh," 

"Then you're fine. Just going to keep being needy for a... little while." 

And the change in his tone pulls Dabi a little out of the contented floaty place he was at. "'A little while'? How long is that, Duster?" Tomura winces slightly. "Tomura Shigaraki," He demands a little more harshly. 

"...Could be a whole week, kitten." 

"You are very lucky that I need your dick in me again, or I would kill you." 

"I'm sorry, firefly--" "Dick, right now, Duster!"

Thanks for submitting! Consider leaving a comment, they help to keep the typing box going!

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #58: Percy Jackson x Criminal Minds

While perusing the PJO tag for the first time in ages, I stumbled across yet another crossover I never would have thought of trying - and which, naturally, hasn't escaped my head. It managed to mash together the worlds of PJO and Criminal Minds... and so, naturally, I thought: if I were going to write this crossover, what would I do?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon - until MoA. There Percy plays off the judo throw in New Rome to avoid starting a war with the Greeks, but after they're alone on the Argo Percy tells Annabeth that he doesn't appreciate 1) being blamed for his disappearance, as if Hera had asked him if he wanted to lose his memories and half a year of his life, and 2) being physically attacked by his girlfriend outside of weapons practice.

Naturally, Annabeth doesn't take this well and doubles down on her position, and the two fight like cats and dogs throughout MoA and HoO. By the time they reach Akhlys, Percy is hardly inclined to listen to Annabeth at all, and so doesn't stop poison-bending.

It's not obvious at the time, but not stopping fully unlocks Percy's divine powers. He's now immortal, like Chiron, but not a god. It's also rather the final straw for Annabeth and Percy's relationship.

Because he doesn't immediately realize he's immortal, Percy goes on with normal human things like high school and college - attending both at Camp Jupiter, which is better equipped to handle demigods than the average mortal school. It's only after he starts grad school at nearby Stanford University and gets a lot of comments on how young he looks does anyone start realizing what's happened.

Fast forward to about 15 years after HOO, when Percy has joined the BAU - because even immortals have to pay the bills somehow.

In my head I picture this to be S8/S9 of CM, largely because I enjoyed Alex Blake's character and think she'd be a good outsider POV for the story I want to tell, but dealer's choice.

Percy proves to be the BAU cryptid. His primary and secondary school records say unsub in the making... then he double majors in marine biology and classics in college (because everyone who survives four years in the legion or slays a particular number of monsters gets a classics degree when they graduate by default). Then he goes on to get a doctorate in psychology from Stanford... and swim twice for Team USA in the Olympics. He once went on vacation in the Keys and found the wreck of a lost Spanish galleon free diving. He's polite and mild mannered and goes nowhere without at least three knives on his person and a week's worth of survival gear. When he's tired, his reports sometimes slip into Ancient Greek or Latin. He may be a Hellenist and speaks of Hell as a place that he's been.

Percy is, in short, unfathomable to his profiler colleagues. They like him, but every new thing they learn about him only complicates the profile they're definitely not putting together.

He's been in the BAU for about 18 months before they receive reports of a serial killer's dumping ground in the Oakland Hills, not more than a mile from Camp Jupiter. The victims are all in their late teens and signs indicate all were killed in a ritualistic way. Most of those the investigators can identify are runaways.

Once the BAU is on site, Reid determines that someone is trying to recreate an obscure Ancient Roman sacrifice.

More importantly, Percy realizes that, yes, these are definitely the bodies of Roman demigods - and not one of them was killed by a monster before they could get to camp. In fact, he's pretty sure there's a secret entrance to camp not 100' away from the oldest body.

It's this last point that causes Percy to lead his team to Camp Jupiter. This is a revelation in itself and should answer many of the team's questions about Percy but give them twice as many new ones.

It should also be perfect timing, as they arrive just as praetors Frank and Hazel were thinking of reaching out to Percy, as he's the only real investigator either camp has. They're not aware of most of the murders, as it's not unusual for one or two demigods every year to be killed after leaving the safety of camp, but the last three victims went missing in the last three months under odd circumstances.

(One was a granddaughter of Apollo who'd talked about wanting to join the Hunters of Artemis, and when she disappeared everyone assumed that's what she did, only for the Hunters to visit later claiming she never showed. The most recent was a daughter of Bacchus who hated the regimented life of the legion and wanted to transfer to Camp Half-Blood where things were a little more their speed. Most the others were legacies or the children of minor gods.)

They set up shop in Percy's house - in part because CJ has no police force beyond the legion, which houses their main suspects - in part because Percy's house is built like a Roman temple on the edge of the temple district and no one would dare sneak into it.

(The demigods have been actively treating immortal Percy as a god, because if deification worked for Nero, they can make it work for Percy. And a deified!Percy could only be good for them.)

In the end it comes out a grandchild of Hecate/Trivia was sacrificing other demigods to their ancestor in hopes of obtaining more power - they should be just powerful enough to disguise their actions with the Mist but not much more, and intensely jealous their ancestor handed already-powerful Hazel more power during the Giant War.

Bonuses include: 1) Thalia and the Hunters showing up to help, as do Nico and Will. This should be an intensely confusing family reunion to watch from the outside given that two are immortal. Extra bonus points if the BAU recognize Nico from some wildly successful paranormal investigative channel on YouTube and are shocked to find out all the ghosts are real; 2) Will calling Percy "mom", on account of the fact he's been dating Apollo for the last five years now - Apollo's longest relationship ever - though Percy refuses to consider marriage or children until fifty years have passed; and 3) One of the BAU being tangentially involved with the mythological world already - Hotch had a relationship with a disguised Justice before meeting Hailey and their child is at Camp Jupiter? Reid has just recently met a disguised Athena at a conference and is now worried he'll arrive home to a baby on the doorstep?

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back to me if you chose to do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[lucyandthepen]

last eden - ii . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn't know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, i think! word count: 9k

A/N: i have not properly proofread this as i finished kinda editing at like 2am in what felt like a fever dream so if you see any mistakes, shoot me a quick message!

Going home is a traumatic experience, to say the least. You don’t actually get to leave the venue right away because, try as you might, you can’t escape the iron grip of the security guard who’s all but glued you down to the ground. You can’t do anything except watch the van speed off while a bunch of fans try (in vain) to follow it. You might have tried to follow it, too, except you already know you’re swimming in boiling water with the current viewing public (plus a couple of really miffed guards) and you might have gotten trampled on anyway.

You end up spending the next three and a half hours down at the police station. At first, you’re worried that they’re going to take your picture or something, but since you don’t have any kind of criminal record — well, until now — you end up waiting the entire time just to hear the chief of police grumble about how it’s too early for this kind of mess and why do all of these girls do all these crazy things for boys that don’t even know them. You don’t say much for the ten minutes it takes him to write your report and lecture you about how strong, young people should do something more substantial with their time and try to pick up skills that will help the community and sharpen one’s mind in pursuit of wisdom, which is really just a roundabout way of saying stop jumping idols. You leave the station with a heavy heart and a new strike against the justice system.

The bus stop is a no-go for you; it’s surely packed with fans who’ve no doubt spent the rest of the morning skipping class, eating breakfast, and probably talking about how outrageous you had been. The subway probably isn’t an option, too, so you end up taking a cab all the way back to your place, except you don’t actually have enough money to pay for the entire fare, so you’re forced to alight four streets away instead. You walk for about twenty minutes before realizing your body is crying in outrage for food; you hadn’t fed yourself at all this morning, save for the ten or so sips of water you had in the back of the M! Countdown studio.

With less than 10,000 won in your pocket, you end up just going into the nearest 7-11 and buying a triangle gimbap to avoid passing out completely on the street. You eat it just as slowly as you walk, partly because you want to savor it, but mostly because you want to avoid having to look Heehyeon in the eye.

Heehyeon. She probably knows everything. No, scratch that — you know she knows. She spends so much time on the internet that you’re sure she’d have her mind fused with a robot if she had enough money. Plus, she’d specifically told you not to do anything dumb, so of course she’d have kept an eye out for the actual dumb thing you really did.

When you arrive at your apartment, you linger behind the door. For some reason, you think about knocking, even though it’s your place and you have a key. You feel unfamiliar and unwelcome — pretty much the effects of ostracising yourself from the general public with just one dumb decision. Even though you decide there’s nothing for it except to face it head on, you try as much as possible to be silent when entering, hoping that Heehyeon has decided to skip out on all things digital today and just take a really long nap.

Of course, with the trajectory of your luck today, it’s no surprise that she’s sitting at the table with her laptop open and a half-eaten apple in her grasp, her free fingers scrolling quickly through what you assume to be the longest comments section ever. Her expression is tired — not sleepy tired but about-to-give-up tired. She doesn’t even have to look up for you to assume a guilty expression while you linger by the doorframe that separates the small kitchen from your living room.

“So what’d you get?” She asks, tone flat.

“A really long lecture and a couple of scratches on my forearm,” you try to sound light, but your attempt only causes the mood to darken a little more. “I didn’t have to pay a fine, or anything…”

Heehyeon glances up at you. You can tell she’s deciding whether or not to comfort you or chew your head off. Luckily, she’s intelligent enough to create a third option under the correct assumption that choosing either of the first two approaches would only end in tears for everyone.

“There’s still some pizza on the counter.”

It’s silent as you extract a slice from the box; the sound of the chair scraping against the floor raises the tiny hairs on your arm and the back of your neck at how loud it is. You don’t eat yet, though; you watch Heehyeon click click click click away, chewing on your bottom lip. It feels like a time for confession, but you’re not even sure where to begin. Before you can open your mouth to really say anything, she beats you to the punch.

“For future reference, when I say ‘don’t do something stupid,’ I mean—”

“Yeah,” you swallow hard. “You mean ‘don’t try to rip someone’s arm off in an attempt to get them to remember you.’ I know.”

“Okay, good. I’m just checking because this isn’t like back then in Greece where police didn’t exist.” She peers over her screen at you, expression unreadable.

“Rome was a better time, though.“ It had been a simpler time. No one had to wear socks with sneakers. You didn’t need an 8 to 5 job. Most importantly, Mark was in love with you. Your lower lip trembles at the memory.

“You all died in a natural disaster,” she reminds you. “But yeah.”

You two lock eyes properly for the first time, and something bubbles up in your chest. You’re not sure what gives you away; maybe it’s your flushed cheeks, or maybe it's the shaky inhale, or even the dangerous flutter of your eyelashes, perhaps. Whatever it is, Heehyeon has her laptop monitor down and is reaching over to clasp your hand in hers just before you burst into tears.

She doesn’t say anything, knows that words won’t really work right now. She just lets you cry it out, and you spend what feels like an hour shifting between weak hiccups, broken sobs, and unholy wails. You only really slow down when you feel like your throat is on fire already, and you have to sluggishly reach into your bag and dig out the water from earlier. Heehyeon’s thumb skates across the back of your hand idly as you try to make up for all the fluids you’ve lost; you even end up sloshing a good amount of the water down your front.

The passing of ten or so minutes sees you in a better state by a fraction; your eyes are puffy and your lips are swollen, but at least your lungs are processing a better amount of air now, and your nose, albeit being congested, has stopped running so much. It’s at this time that you find you still know some words, so you manage to blubber them out to your roommate.

“H-he looked at me like I wasn’t e-even human,” you choke out. “His f-f-face was so — I’d never seen him like th-that. He was mad — no, he h-hated me!”

“_____________, stop it.” She says firmly, and you’re not sure if she means stop saying that he hated you or if she means that you should stop crying, which is what you’re already threatening to resume. “You and I both know that your approach won’t win any congeniality awards this year, but he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t even know y— okay, I’m sorry, I just meant —“

She’s torn between exasperation and pity as another sob resurfaces, and it takes her at least fifty I’m sorry’s and one trip to the fridge to get you another bottle of water to settle you back into silence. At this point, you’re cried out; your entire being is begging for sleep and you can no longer breathe through your nose.

“But you’re r— right.” You hiccup defeatedly. “He doesn’t even know me. I don’t know how to even get close to him. I just want to give up.”

Heehyeon lapses into silence, and a small voice in the back of your mind tells you she’s biting her tongue. She knows you won’t give up, but you can see she wants to support this decision. A part of you resents that, but in this state, you can’t help but feel like she would be right. Not trying would be a lot easier than trying.

“This just… means that you have to go down a different route. Try another less aggressive, less crazy way.”

“Everyone there must have thought I was crazy,” you groan. When she chooses not to say anything, she only confirms it. “What are they saying? Now, in the comments — what are they saying about me?”

“Nothing out of what would be ordinary.” She tries to spare you, her hand already pressed hard on her laptop, but you manage to move it away from her and turn it to face you instead. For a moment, Heehyeon looks like she wants to stand up and leave you in case you throw a fit, but she remembers she owns half the place, and the result of this is her half-standing before stopping and sitting back down again; she knots her fingers together nervously as you skim down the page she has open. The text isn’t surprising, but it’s not like the knowledge of that soothes your tattered spirit anyway.

NCT’S Mark ATTACKED BY SASAENG FAN

After NCT’s M! Countdown pre-recording today, Mark of NCT experienced a distressing event. As the idol group was about to leave CJ E&M Ent. Building, an unknown sasaeng fan broke through security and tried to abduct him. Area management was quick to apprehend her, and she has been taken to the appropriate authorities. Staff members quickly confirmed with us that Mark is safe and uninjured. His members are currently with him.

NCT will appear on M! Countdown for their special comeback stage tonight at 6PM to perform their newest title track, Favorite (Vampire).

TOP COMMENTS

[+1113, - 17] Ah seriously… it’s 2021 and sasaengs are still like this? Stop wasting your time on your oppas like this and study for your exams… stupid.

[+743, -122] NCT is really this popular. While I don’t condone any sasaeng activity, you can’t deny this is the result of being this famous…

[+556, -98] I was there when this happened. Really, it was crazy. She really looked like she was going to rip his arm off. I thought for sure he would die. So embarrassing…

[+89, -77] Desperate f***s. Haha. Does she really think Mark will fall in love with her like that? Ah,, really. It’s kind of funny. Dumb b****.

[+179, -2] The security should really be tighter. ㅠㅠ Mark-ah, don’t be discouraged!

Your insides have disappeared; there’s this dry hollowness in your stomach that allows you to push the laptop away without a word. Your pizza is still on your plate, but the crust is stale now and the most prominent topping on it is your tears. It’s a good thing that you’re not that hungry anymore.

“They… can’t be expected to understand,” Heehyeon tries carefully. You don’t say anything in response because you know she’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel much better. It also doesn’t make you feel much worse because, really, how much further down can your heart go? “I know you don’t really want to hear this right now, but I think it would be better if you just stayed low.”

“I know that.”

“Okay. I’m just — you know. I’m just saying.” You can tell she’s run out of comfort to offer; she’s no longer sure what to expect from you now that you’ve hit the top three on the checklist of what she had prepared for, which was (1) cry, (2) hate yourself, and (3) look at netizen comments that never promised anything good. You know that she’s willing to play it by ear and try to help, but you’re too tired. You had been up at the crack of dawn for virtually nothing, and you just wanted to crawl in the dark hole you called a room, sleep for ten years, and eventually die.

Except even that wouldn’t be an escape for you. Not really. Just another fresh start into a harder life.

When you stand, Heehyeon does too, and she holds out her hands carefully like she’s worried you’re going to keel over. You both know she doesn’t have the strength to actually carry you, though, so you bear with the sluggish, lead-like feeling your limbs seem to be constrained by and trudge into your room.

“I’ll turn up the air conditioning,” she says, breaking the silence. “I know you don’t like getting sticky when you sleep.”

You open your mouth, but nothing but a pitiful sound comes out. She waves it away, knowing what you mean. You’re thankful she’s this sensible at the best of times.

“For what it’s worth, __________, I—” she checks your expression again, just in case, before she continues. “I’m sorry this happened to you. But if there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you’ve never failed to make it work. I believe in you, even if you don’t really believe in yourself right now.”

Another sad noise escapes you, and Heehyeon nods in understanding, giving your arm a little squeeze before leaving to tamper with the temperature controls.

You should have noticed how dark the sky was today.

You should have, but you don’t because you have too much on your mind today — too many things to do. The main street is a fifteen minute walk from your house, and you have to be home by noon. There’s simply no time to take note of the weather.

You have to be more careful of where you step these days. The town had never fully recovered from the quake of 62, and the cracks in the pavement had deepened when the rainy season had started up; shallow, murky puddles now pepper the road, and you weave around them while trying to avoid any human collisions.

Everyone around you is wearing thicker, heavier clothes now. The turn of the season is near. It’s probably why the sun isn’t beating down on you, even if it’s close to its high. You tuck your limbs closer in as you cross the road, watching your feet to ensure you don’t slip on the rocks when you hop on them. There’s about a ten-inch interval between each one, and you have to make sure you land on just the right spot where your foot can fit. One misstep means a sandal drenched in sewage.

For some reason, Via dell’Abbondanza isn’t as crowded when you arrive there. For a main street, it’s a little too quiet. You can hear the harmony of sighs coming from the different stalls lined up on either side of the road. Not much good business today, then, you think.

You make a point to jingle your relatively small coin purse as you approach one stall. A flurry of limbs reveals the merchant’s son just standing up, trying his best to look attentive. He’s about your age. You’ve only seen him a few times as a child, and even fewer times as you grew up; when you left the merchant’s side of town to get married, you’d forgotten him, along with every other boy and girl that lived in that area. You’re sure you know his name, but you can’t quite place it; you know his father more, as he’s usually who greets you with fresh produce every week.

You express your mild surprise at seeing him by saying, “You’re father’s not well today?”

“Gout’s acting up again,” he answers. The lives of the somewhat rich weren’t always fabulous, you guessed, but you had never stayed long enough to really find out. “It’s just me today. What can I get you?”

“I’ve got a list.” Your eyes sweep over the goods, spread out before you, and you absently hand it over along with the sack. Tanned hands move swiftly, making sure to fit all the produce your tiny pouch can handle. “Do you have anything sweet?”

“I’ve got some fresh apples,” he offers, hand hovering over a bright red pile of fruit.

“Maybe something a little more special.”

He pauses for a moment before abandoning your sack, only half-filled with produce, to go to the back of the stall. Two minutes of rummaging results in him extracting a tiny bag from a box and spilling its contents onto his palm. Even in the grim light, they shine like gold pieces — small, round things rolling around in his hand. You lean forward to take a closer look.

“What are they?”

“Honey drops. Some men from India came with them last week. They say the Greeks love it.” His fingers curl in a little. “What do you need something special for?”

“It’s for my son. We’re celebrating his birthday today.”

The merchant’s son doesn’t say anything anymore; he turns his palm sideways and lets the honey drops fall into your pack. You stand in silence as he finishes off your list, tying the sack neatly up with the rope again. When you’re digging around for the money, though, he speaks.

“You were very young when you got married.” It’s not what you’d have expected, but you nod in response all the same. “Your father… he was upset. My father said he didn’t see your father for at least a month here. He let your brother manage the goods.”

“He was more upset that he didn’t get the dowry he was expecting out of me,” you say, tone rather clipped.

“So, it’s true, then? You ran away with a farmer. That’s what people say.”

“People still talk about it?” You frown. “It’s been years. I love him. I don’t regret it.”

“I never said — I’m sorry if you felt like I was criticizing. I’m not. I just didn’t—” he sighs. “I just think it must be nice.”

“To be gossiped about?”

“No. To marry for love.”

A dull silence follows, and you’re not sure how to react to his words. Instead, you ask, “How much?”

“Just twenty denarii.”

“And the honey drops?”

“You just take them,” he shakes his head. “For your son. Think of it as a gift for him.”

You offer him a small smile before counting out the silver pieces carefully. He cups his palm under your hand, skin brushing briefly against yours as you tip the money to him. Something like electricity runs up your arm and hits the back of your neck, and you both draw back sharply, looking sheepish.

“Thank you. Give your father my best,” you say, rubbing your neck.

“I will. Have a good day.”

Even though it’s noon when you get back, you can’t find the sun; the wind that blows against the back of your neck is hot and dry, though. Your son’s face is flushed when he runs to the door to meet you, but at least he doesn’t look uncomfortable; his eyes are wide with excitement. At the age of three — well, four today — he’s got too much energy trapped inside his tiny form, and he constantly tries to release it by running the perimeter of your tiny home. As you sit at the table, he resumes his crusade, sometimes standing on his tiptoes by the window and yelling “Domitian is our savior!” You’ve never figured out where he’d learned that, but you know it always tires him out a little faster, so you just let him be.

Around what feels like his hundredth time around the house, he sticks his head out of the window again. Instead of screaming the same praise for the emperor, he ends up saying, “Papa’s home!” Your head snaps up, and, sure enough, there’s a playful little knock on the door not a minute later. Your son almost trips over his chubby legs as he goes to open the door, revealing your husband, sun-kissed skin covered in a sheen of sweat and a wide grin across his face. More noise ensues as your son lets out a happy squeal at being swept up in his father’s arms and carried over to the table, limbs flailing fruitlessly. His arm collides with the side of your face gently when your husband leans down to press his lips to your forehead, and you let out a surprised laugh at the contact.

“I didn’t think they’d really let you come home early,” you say as your husband sets your squirming son down on a stool before taking his own seat. He starts unpacking the rest of the produce you’d left inside the sack.

“I said I couldn’t miss this special occasion,” he chuckles. “Besides, it looked like it was going to rain, anyway. What’s this?”

He rolls a honey drop between his calloused fingers. Your son stops making a fuss on his own and turns his attention to the sweet, eyes widening.

“Gold?” He whispers. Your husband bursts out laughing.

“Son, if we ever had this much gold, I could give your mother the life she truly deserved.”

“Stop it,” you smile, shaking your head. “You two are all I could ever ask for. I’m the luckiest person alive.”

“Frankly, I think that’s me, but let’s agree to disagree.” He flashes you another grin you can’t help but mirror. Your son reaches over and tries to grab the drop when you’re not watching, but your husband is smart enough to hide it in a fist and put it back in the sack where it can’t be reached. “Let’s save that for later. Should we pray first?”

The meal is filled with small talk. You tell your husband about the merchant’s gout. He tells you about one of the men who work with him on the field who had been caught and punished for stealing a bit of barley. You make him promise never to do that, and he pretends to be hurt by your lack of faith in him before making the promise, coupled with a kiss to your palm. Your son finishes his food quickly and goes to the window to yell one more time before asking the both of you if the emperor had greeted him a happy birthday. You assure him of it.

The food and the running around (at least, in your child’s case) quickly makes you sleepy, but your son insists that you both sing him a birthday song before you take him in for a nap. You don’t have that gift, so you let your husband lead, opting to clap along instead. Two minutes later, your son is yawning so widely you can see the back of his throat, and you pick him up to bring him to bed.

“What about the gold drops?” He asks sleepily.

“They’ll still be there when you wake up,” you promise. He concedes and lets you cart him off.

You’d only just seen your son off to sleep when you feel it — the first wave of something. It’s mild at first, but it’s quickly followed by a second, longer one. You stumble out of the room to find that your husband is also standing up, brow furrowed.

“An earthquake?” You ask.

“It could be,” he mutters. “But it—“

The third one is accompanied by a terrifying sound; it’s a deep rumble that passes through the earth under your feet and resonates in your chest. Instinctively, you run forward, and your husband wraps you in his arms. You both look out the window.

No one is on the street now, but you can see a few heads also peeking out of their windows. All their eyes seem to follow the same line, and you quickly direct your own gaze to what they’re so focused on. When you see it, you let out a weak gasp. Your husband’s hold on you grows tighter.

The thick outline of the volcano is different today; more than just its normal conical shape, you see a thick cloud of thick, gray smoke rising up from its tip. The cloud is moving fast — too fast to be something you could shrug off. Your husband seems to think the same thing, because he lets go of you quickly but keeps a hold on your arm, towing you towards the room where your son rested.

He can barely get out the words “we have to leave” before he’s interrupted by the sound of an explosion. You don’t see it, but you feel it instantly; the air grows alarmingly hotter, almost burning your skin. A new smell enters the hot wind; it’s sharp and unpleasant, sticking to the back of your throat.

There’s another tell-tale rumble in the floor, and your son screams in confusion as he sits up in bed. You land by his side, holding him close to you. You say it’s fine, but it’s not.

Another explosion. It’s much louder this time, maybe because people are screaming outside. You’re screaming too, face pressed into your son’s hair. It’s much too hot now. Too hot, like the air is setting you aflame completely.

The last two things you feel are your son’s tears dripping onto your knee and your husband’s form pressed firmly against you. It’s his body that catches most of the impact when the last explosion sounds off and you’re completely engulfed in ash.

When you come back into consciousness, you notice that your shirt is sticking to your back. Despite Heehyeon turning down the temperature, you’d still sweat through the nightmare. She’d been kind enough to leave you a glass of water by your bedside. You throw her a silent thank you as you throw your head back and gulp it down. You drink almost desperately, as if you’re trying to wash the last of the ashes out of your throat.

You ask your boss if you can leave work early when Heehyeon texts you that you have an “urgent package” a few days later. You’re pretty sure it’s for the fansign event. She lets you take the rest of the day off, but she can’t hide her exasperation.

“NCT models for Nature Republic,” she says pointedly. “You get to see them all day.”

“It’s not the same thing as seeing them in person,” you defend yourself.

“You go to a fan sign to see how pretty they are. What’s the difference?”

You feel like telling her that the difference is that in a fan sign, the love of your life is a real, three-dimensional person you can talk to and not a life-sized standee at the front of the shop, but you don’t really want to argue. She had just given you the day off, anyway.

“Just remember you’re working double shifts this Monday.” She says this like it’s a punishment, even though weekdays mean later opening times and less customers. “Sejeong has already covered for you twice this week. It’s a good thing she’s okay that you’re such a big NCT fan.”

There are two big boxes by your door when you get home, your face still flushed from running up the stairs; one has already been ripped open, and a big chunk of what was inside has already been extracted. You can hear the sound of ripping plastic and the regular sigh coming from the kitchen, and you enter it to find your roommate with a cutter in her hand and at least twenty NCT albums spread out across the table. She’s in the process of opening one of them, peeling off the cling wrap and shaking out the papers inside.

“You know you don’t even have to open them, right?” You say slowly. “They don’t stick the ticket inside. They do the draws on the websites, so all you need is the receipt.”

“I know; you told me that,” Heehyeon leans back, tossing the free Genie streaming pass to the side. “I’m looking at the photocards.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“They’re all the same. You shouldn’t have bought it in bulk.”

“I had to,” you frown. “They say it’s better to get a whole range of entries instead of sparse numbers.”

“Well, you also got a whole range of Kim Doyoung photo cards.” To prove her point, she tosses a photo card in your direction. “Oh, and one Taeil card. So far.”

“No Mark?”

“No; it’s what I’ve been looking for.” You think she’s acting really considerate and touching for you until she says, “They’re the ones that make the most money often. Him and Jaehyun”

“You can’t sell my photocards.”

“Why not? You have at least ten Doyoungs right now. What are you going to do with them; make a Kim Doyoung photocard fort?”

You ignore her, taking an album instead and peeling off the wrapping. You leaf through the first few pages, but it’s the Chinese version, and you can’t read it, so you just skip to where all the extra goods have been stuck. When you turn the photo card over, you sigh. It’s just Jaehyun.

You don’t even get through the entire stack that Heehyeon has laid out on the kitchen table before you give up. Obviously, the photo cards aren’t urgent, so you just let her collect them with the Genie passes and move on to the boxes again. You nearly break a nail trying to rip open the other box, but it’s worth it; you manage to get your hands on the receipt, wedged between two albums, and the list of lottery entries for the fansign has been stapled to it.

Heehyeon has given up too, and she stands by the doorway as you scan the numbers. “So how many entries do you get?”

“Depends on how many albums you buy.”

“Well, how many albums did you buy?”

“A hundred and fifty,” you respond, not batting an eyelash.

“You crazy bitch,” she sighs heavily. “We could be living in a better apartment if you hadn’t thrown all your money at NCT.”

“At Mark,” you correct her. You may be a crazy bitch, but you’re also pretty loyal. “Our apartment is great now, anyway.”

“So if you do get a fan sign pass, what’s the plan?”

It sounds like a test or something, like there’s only one right answer to the question. There really is only one right answer, and you let her hear it. “The plan is not to attack anyone.”

“Good. I approve of this plan. But I’d sleep better knowing that I could actually make sure you stuck to it.” Her expression says what she doesn’t verbalize. Unlike last time.

“I’d be lucky to get one fan sign pass, let alone two.”

“Maybe you should let me take the one fan sign pass instead. I’ll give Mark your love.”

You make a motion to throw an album at her, but she doesn’t budge, knowing fully well that you won’t attack her with anything that expensive. She just sticks out her tongue in reply.

The announcement comes up later than expected; Heehyeon’s laptop is out on the kitchen table again after a quick argument about who should clean up the albums (apparently, since they’re yours, you are also responsible in some way; you’d played rock, paper, scissors with her, and had promptly lost). You put up a SuaSua page that autorefreshes the Synnara website while you eat dinner. Heehyeon tells you about how someone at her office had stuck a ripped bag of popcorn into the pantry’s microwave and had caused the butter to explode and leak out of the appliance, leading to the entire floor smelling like burnt popcorn. You ask her if that “someone” was her, and she starts talking about how the weather today was unusually hot.

Synarra’s website crashes for a good ten minutes, showing only a white page with a proxy error, and you realize they must be adding the announcement already. You grab the laptop and yank it towards you while Heehyeon inhales the rest of her rice quickly before moving her chair closer to yours and sticking her head closer to the monitor. A chipped gray nail drags down the screen, leaving a long fingerprint streak, and she says the numbers out loud as you check the list.

“98?”

“No.”

“121?”

“Nope.”

“How about 145?”

She loses almost all of her saliva trying to carefully read out the numbers, but there’s such a short list drawn from a slew of album sales that you’re slowly losing hope. Only about a hundred people will be able to enter the fan sign. You glance back at the boxes by the door, wondering if they’re enough. You’d thought so at first — 150 albums were a lot — but now you’re unsure. Heehyeon says something you don’t catch.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

“I said, do you have 322?”

“Oh-“ You check the first page of the list. Nothing. You’re holding your breath when you flip the page, your eyes more carefully counting the numbers. 317. 318. 319. God, please don’t let it stop there. 320. 321. “Yes, I—”

The paper is snatched out from your grasp before you can complete your poor word choice. Heehyeon’s jaw falls steadily lower as she counts the same numbers and arrives at the magic one.

“You crazy bitch,” she says for the second time today, but it’s less accusing now; in fact, it’s more of an awed whisper. “It actually worked.”

“You’re sure it says 322?”

You both take turns checking, but there’s no denying it. Your number is there. You’re going to the fan sign.

“This is crazy,” Heehyeon murmurs, and she sounds like she really thinks it’s the single most astonishing thing she’s ever seen in all of her lives. “I’d already written out my comforting in-case-you-didn’t-win speech.”

You don’t say anything in response; your mind is much too far away, focused on a week from now, on a day you would see Mark again. It wouldn’t be like M! Countdown. You’d be calmer. You’d be able to explain yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to set things right. It’s a gamble, facing him again, but at this point, you feel like fate is finally starting to take your side, and you’re too high from running with it to think about all the cracks in the road.

Heehyeon takes you to CGV Apgujeong on the Saturday of the fansign a week later. There are a number of fans on the orange subway to Apgujeong station, and you panic momentarily in the fear that some of them might recognize you as That Sasaeng from Hell, but they don’t even pay attention; they’re too busy talking to each other, flipping through their albums and showing each other which gifts they want to give to the members. One of them has a goodie basket, and you tilt your head to read the card attached to it.

Mark oppa, please eat these snacks and gain some strength. Czennies are always with you!

It hits you again that the fan demographic for this group isn’t exactly the work a full time job kind, so they have to call him oppa. When you point this out to Heehyeon, all she does is give you a patronizing look and ask if you’re just jealous that you’re not the only one who can lovingly call him that. You ignore her for the rest of the train ride until she tries to make it up to you by dragging you into a coffee shop and buying you a churro.

Even though there are only 100 winners, the crowd at the building is at least five times larger. It’s M! Countdown all over again with the line, except only a select few can really go inside, and the others are just hanging around with their cameras to see if they’ll be able to get a glimpse of NCT. No one bothers you, and you start to realize that maybe less people had seen you in full during The Incident; maybe at that time, you had just looked like a very aggressive blur of pink. It also helps that Heehyeon is chatting to you loudly while dipping and re-dipping her churro into her chocolate so that you can keep your mind off of your building anxiety.

Of course, that dam breaks the moment security says only people with the winning albums can go through the door. Instinctively, you cling onto Heehyeon, and you realize you actually do want her in there with you. She��s the one that has to extract herself from your hold.

“Go on, _____________.”

“I’m terrified,” you admit, fiddling with the sticker on the album that says 322.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Just remember what we talked about.” She leans in closer to whisper. “Keep your cool. Explain yourself. Say sorry for the other day, and give him the thing.”

You make a face. Right. The thing. While fans had brought their little dolls and gift baskets and toys, you had a letter — a stupid, handwritten letter that you tried to explain yourself with in the vaguest way possible (to avoid looking even more like a lunatic than you probably already do) while also begging for forgiveness for your attitude. You aren’t very good with words, so Heehyeon had stood behind you coaching you through what to say. All in all, the letter’s a mess, but at least you’re not going in empty-handed.

The elevator’s the only way to the theater where the fan sign is going to be held, so they let you in by batches. When it’s your turn, you get stuck between the wall and another fan the wrong way, the handle bar of the elevator digging into your stomach. You spend what feels like ten whole minutes like two uncomfortable inches away from Mark’s huge face on the poster that runs along the three walls of the elevator before you arrive at the fifth floor of the building and everyone trickles out of the cramped space. At this point, you’re absolutely nauseated, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the whole handle-punching-you thing in the elevator, or if it’s because you’re growing more and more nervous at the prospect of seeing Mark again.

The auditorium is full when you’re ushered to your seat, and you get to stay near the back, which is elevated so that you can see everything, albeit from a distance. Three long tables have been stuck together on the little stage they have set up in front of the theater screen curtains, and there are nine chairs set up in a row behind them. The sea of fans in front of you houses a good number of pink dots, and you remember what those Jaehyun fans at the M! Countdown pre-recording had said about how you could pick out a Mark fan by the color of their shirt. You’re not one of them this time, though; Heehyeon had told you not to draw any kind of attention to yourself, and a violently fuschia shirt was the antithesis to that advice. You content yourself with miserably counting how many people are wearing pink.

You’re in the 20 or so range when a loud cheer erupts from the crowd, and you start; you had been so busy counting that you hadn’t noticed that the staff and security had taken their place around the stage, soon followed by the NCT members themselves. They enter in a line, waving at the crowd enthusiastically. Johnny, who is leading the line and takes the farthest seat from the starting point, is throwing out a flurry of finger hearts that the crowd goes wild over. When they’re at their places, they do their greetings before taking their seats, and the fans quiet down to listen to Mark, who is starting off the opening ment and talking about how he’s really happy about this comeback.

You lean forward in your seat, your eyes trained on only him. Mark looks different today from when you last saw (some would say attacked) him. Today, there are no traces of make-up on his face, no hair products in place. His skin looks dewy and bright, and he’s wearing glasses, perched just on the edge of his nose. They move when he scrunches his nose as he laughs, and he has to push them back to keep them from falling when he leans forward to look at the other members down the line. The white shirt he has on is a little too big for him, but it looks comfortable. Seeing him on stage for a performance is different, you realize. He looks so… at home like this. So normal. So happy.

It makes your heart ache even more.

There’s nothing to do but wait for your turn, and it’s a long time until then. The process goes on a per-row basis to avoid a messy and overcrowded stage, and you watch as fans enter the line one after another, stopping to chat with each member. Some of them have obviously done this before — at least, enough times to be comfortably chatting and laughing with members who remember them. Others are a little more starstruck, and they come off the stage crying, their tears spilling over on their albums — more specifically, Johnny’s face, since they usually have the books open to his photo.

The more people that go up, the more unsure you are of this whole scenario. You wish you could be the kind of fan that they would remember fondly, but most of the members hadn’t even seen you properly when you’d run up to Mark. Probably the only person that would remember you apart from him would be Doyoung, and your only interaction with him had been him trying to pry you off his friend. Chances are, you’re going to end up like the other kind of fan that just broke down during the course of the fan sign, but maybe not for the same reasons.

When the row in front of you is led to the stage, you start feeling sick. You think it’s because you’ve been sitting too long, but, deep down, you know it’s you fears eating away at your insides, and this is only confirmed when you’re advised to stand, and you actually raise a hand to your mouth, pressing two fingers against your lips tightly just in case your churro decided to make a reappearance.

The walk to the stage is horrendously long, and even though you know the other fans are too busy leafing through their signed albums, you feel like you’re under scrutiny. The staff make sure you go up one by one to avoid some kind of traffic jam, and when it’s your turn, you feel your knees go weak. You’re not sure what you look like, but you can’t look that great. The staff at the front of the line asks you to hand over your album and follow the other fans, who’ve had to kneel in front of the idols. You’re inwardly thankful, because there’s almost no strength left in your calves.

The first member in line is Taeil, and he greets you quietly and without fuss. The staff member hands him your album, and he asks for your name. You barely manage to choke it out, and it’s embarrassing when he has to ask for it again. It’s worse with Yuta, who’s so intimidatingly attractive that you actually feel the need to scoot backwards onto your knees. He even asks you to spell out your name because your voice has gone too small.

“You seem so nervous,” he laughs. “Is this your first fan sign?”

“Um,” you answer unintelligibly. “Sorry?”

“No, no. I don’t mean it like it’s a bad thing. But don’t be nervous in front of us. We like seeing our fans happy.”

“Yes. I’m… happy.”

He spares you an amused glance as he’s finishing up his signature. You don’t know what’s so funny, unless you look paper-white and that somehow sets his funny bone off. Luckily, Taeyong isn’t the excessively talkative type — at least, not the kind that makes you feel like you’re under a lamplight in an interrogation room — and the only thing Haechan asks you is if he should call you “noona,” to which you also smartly reply with “uh.” You can’t remember when his birthday is; all you can think about is trying to keep consciousness. He just writes “noona” next to your name, anyway.

When you get to Jaehyun, you truly feel like you’re going to throw up. Mark is right beside him, talking to another fan animatedly. You hear him say something about ghost pepper noodles. He can’t take spicy food, you remember. Your head is light, and the room is spinning, and is that a halo around Mark’s head?

“You must like Mark, huh?”

When you look back at Jaehyun, it looks like a bright light is shining behind his head as well. He only spares you a quick glance, his entire body leaned forward to sign your album carefully. You lick your lips, unsurprised to find them bone dry.

“I — sorry,” you say quietly, and he laughs easily, signing across his torso in the picture. You briefly consider that these people have a weird sense of humor.

“No; it’s fine. Mark has so many fans, doesn’t he? It’s because he’s really talented and humble.”

“You’re… talented and humble too,” you mutter carefully. He chuckles again.

“Thank you. What did you say your name was again?”

“______________.”

He scrawls it messily above his signature before tilting his head back to look at the overall effect of his handwriting vandalizing his own photo. The last stroke of your name just touches his forehead in the picture. “_____________, I hope you continue to love and support Mark and NCT, then.”

Jaehyun pushes your album to the side towards Mark, but your hands are already outstretched to receive it. There’s this long, awkward pause where you’re just cupping thin air and he’s just staring at your hands, and you want to apologize again, except you’re not sure what to apologize for. He just bursts out laughing again, and takes your hand in his to shake it so you don’t look foolish. There must be a lot of static in the air, because the moment your palms make contact, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if you’ve been weakly electrocuted.

He must feel it too because he draws back quickly, and his eyes, previously crinkled with laughter, are now wide and alert. On you. Your stomach drops as an unmistakable expression of recognition reforms his features. His jaw drops.

“Hold on—“

You’re screwed. He must recognize you from The Incident. You open your mouth, but you don’t even know what to say, and before you even have a chance to form a word, the girl beside you inches closer to kneel in front of Jaehyun; the staff behind him is motioning for you to move faster. All you can do is shoot him one last pleading look before you move in front of Mark, and  he’s still staring at you, a little dumbfounded, as you side-crawl further away.

Mark is talking to Doyoung, unaware of the hold-up you’ve caused. They’re sharing a joke, and Mark’s laughter rings in your ears. You actually feel yourself drowning out all the noise around you and focusing on the sound of it. All you can hear is that laugh, coupled by the erratic beat of your heart that feels like it’s about to rip through your chest.

It happens again — that slow-motion, tunnel vision thing you’d felt right before you’d rushed towards him last week. You think it’s nerves at first, but you quickly realize it’s your body warning you of an impending disaster.

He turns to face you, his eyes a little glassy and unfocused from laughing. He doesn’t recognize you for a moment, slim fingers already reaching out for your album and uncapping his pen. It’s only for a split second, really, but you lock eyes in that small span of time. The realization seeps through his gaze as his memory feeds him the information you fear the most.

Mark drops his pen at the same time that he pushes his chair back; the movement is so sharp and violent that the table he’s sharing with Doyoung and Johnny scrapes forward, hitting your chest — not too hard, but enough to knock a little wind out of you. The members look up in alarm at the noise, and it’s only aggravated by Mark’s loud voice hitting all four corners of the auditorium.

“It’s you—!”

Doyoung is the second to recognize you, and he stands up, looking still disoriented but mostly angry, and he jabs his index finger in your direction as if he wants everyone to know you’re the one Mark is referring to.

You don’t know what to do; you put your hands forward, but this just seems to cause an even larger riot. Staff are by your side in a second, and this burly guy grabs you by the elbow and hoists you up. A vague memory of him as the same guy who’d grabbed Mark after the pre-recording pings in the back of your mind, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You go up without resistance, but your gaze is still fixed on Mark, who is now just staring back at you in alarm, half his body hidden behind another security guard who’s shielding him, as if he thinks you’re just going to propel yourself forward and strangle the life out of someone.

Everyone at the table is standing now; even the fans are on their feet, looking livid. Suddenly, everything in your field of vision swims, and you feel the tears spilling over your cheeks, leaving hot, wet streaks of make-up that can’t look attractive.

“Mark,” your voice comes out weakly. “Mark, please. Please — just listen—”

Even if he were to really listen, you don’t have time; you’re already being dragged away by the staff, and they take you through the fire exit to avoid a bigger scene. This entire time, you’re looking back at the table, and you’re trying to call out Mark’s name, but he’s refusing to look your way now, shakily taking his seat as the staff realigns the tables. The only time you stop yelling is when the fire exit’s door slams shut.

It doesn’t take long for you to sober down, and you try telling the staff you weren’t planning on doing anything weird, but they aren’t taking any chances. Two big guys keep your arms practically pinned to your sides as they escort you to the first floor, where building security had called up the police again. You at least feel a little lucky that they don’t parade you out up front where everyone can see you.

You desperately want to call Heehyeon, but they’ve confiscated your phone and your wallet, so you just sit in the back of the police car, trying not to scream. You hadn’t even done anything, but he’d panicked anyway. You’d already spent your time regretting The Incident, but this, by far, was its worse effect. If you ever showed up in front of him again, you’d probably be given a real restraining order.

No one talks to you at the police station; they’re so busy trying to deal with other cases of misdemeanor here and there that they actually just let you sit by the door for twenty minutes. You could leave, but you don’t; you’re not taking any more chances right now. Eventually, you’re led into a temporary holding cell next to a shoplifter, and you’re suddenly glad they’ve confiscated your valuables.

It’s quiet, save for the footsteps of the shoplifter that’s pacing agitatedly. She keeps forgetting she doesn’t have a watch and actually checks her bare wrist every so often, as if she’s waiting for someone. You let out a long sigh and press your back against the wall for a second before you realize you don’t know what’s been near it, and you shoot up straight again, your features morphing to express disgust. Your cellmate snickers.

Heehyeon must know something’s wrong already. By now, everyone’s left the auditorium, and it won’t take a public service announcement for her to catch wind of something bad happening in the fan sign. She’d have to ask security about you, then wait for a cab to get to the police station. If she’s as smart as you think she is, she should be outside trying to bail you out of your overnight stay.

Your spirit lifts for the first time since the fan sign as you see the officer that apprehended you come back into the holding areas. He stops in front of your cell, gesturing for you come forward before getting the keys to unlock the cell.

“You’re letting me go?” You confirm, watching him struggle with the keys.

“Your friend paid your bail,” he drawls out the word friend, like he’s disgusted by the idea that Heehyeon is paying for your release. “He’s signing the papers outside.”

He?

You’re nothing short of confused when you exit the holding area, and your eyes immediately scan the police station for Heehyeon. There’s no sign of her though.

The only person you recognize is NCT’s Jaehyun, standing taller than almost everyone in the room, grinning and gesturing for you to come over.

[magpiesbones]

I’ve never read or watched bnha (mostly because fanservice give me hives) but I am adjacent enough and have friends who are obsessed with it and. FRANKLY. it is CRIMINAL that bnha has the Most Interesting Character Setup Of All Time and then wastes her.

I am talking about Todoroki Fuyumi, of course. She should, logically, be the main character.

She should be the main character, for ease of writing and plot, because she is THE CLOSEST to almost all themes while being enough of an outsider to allow for some exposition. She also lives a thematically insane life. And she’s a side character! At best! HOW.

like okay first off: she has been a failure since birth, and not for gender reasons but for OTHER REASONS inherent to her genetics. Fantastic setup to explore parental neglect. She has been the mother figure in a survival mode family since her mother was institutionalized. How old could she really have been, ten? Thirteen at the most? THESE THINGS FUCK PEOPLE UP. You could have explored the ways in which Fuyumi believes that because she is ignored, if everyone else tried they too could escape physical abuse, which is, you know, a fucked up way to think. Eldest daughter syndrome to the maximum. Not only that but she literally knows her father is capable of pushing her siblings so hard they die. This is fucked up knowledge to have. We could have explored atypical responses to abuse.

She has very close experience with the idea that actually not all Heroes are good people, yet still believes in the institution. Incredibly thematically dense there. We can also connect this back to her home dynamic— Heroism isn’t a flawed system, criminals just need to try harder, like her siblings maybe, and Not Get Attention. This could be INCREDIBLY GOOD.

I’m frankly unclear on whether or not Dabi is her twin or not. Either way, what better plot twist is ‘our father’s abuse made my brother a villain and almost killed him’ I think this would definitely fuck her up a little. Or a lot. More than she was already, you see. Also, the sheer amount of parallels you could make in this situation. None of them were ever considered because the mangaka thinks women are ineffective and More Background Of Characters Than Men, but the possibilities are endless. I’m envisioning a situation where she realizes that Dabi does the same shit as her father thus rendering the hero/villain dichotomy essentially meaningless, and/or confronts Either Of Them with this information. That would require Fuyumi to have had character development enough to confront someone, and bc she is Fawn Response The Character, probably unlikely.

I am Very Much Aware that Fuyumi has a quirk and the quirk is Ice, not very powerful, etc. but how fucked up would it be if SHE got all for one and kept it Very Much A Secret. Fuyumi is now pitted against her littlest brother and discovering her Inner Potential For Extreme Violence at the same time, something that has no potential at all for going very very badly. Please picture this with me: Fuyumi is making dinner for the brother who they BOTH know is pitted against All Mights Successor, whoever they may be, and he is telling her all about his quirkless friend who is breaking records at his school etc etc. and she knows that once he graduates their father will put him against her in the publicity battle to the death, which she has decided she is Very Very Mad About. However I honestly think this shouldn’t happen. Quirk transference should be treated like a Later plot twist after you really get Used to the idea that a quirk is Inherent and unchangeable. This should shake her DEEPLY and ideally she should learn About All For One after the Hawks Reveal (child trafficking).

I don’t know if it’s canon whether or not Natsuo has a quirk. If he doesn’t this effectively renders Midoriya’s character moot, because here is a MUCH closer way to talk about quirklessness in this society. What’s Fuyumi’s take on this as de facto mother. What’s Fuyumi’s take on this as abused child? lots to think about.

The whole Eugenics Thing that endeavor is doing is pretty glossed over in the manga to my understanding. It is however SO fucked up, first of all, and second of all. The Implications this has on Fuyumi as endeavors only child (Canonically) capable of bearing children. How powerful is her quirk actually? Is she as powerful as Dabi but with ice? Would she ever let her father know if she was (was she hiding her power deliberately or subconsciously)? Do we think he was arranging her marriage before Shouto was born and he had his own success. What are Fuyumi’s thoughts on this whole Thing. I think Fuyumi would have a VERY nuanced take on abortion rights and no fault divorce.

What does Midoriya Izuku have? Plot armour? The power of friendship? A heroics hyperfixation? Does canon have a singular consistent theme tied to Midoriya, In Particular?

I realize that most of the fandom fucking hates Fuyumi, sometimes more than endeavor (why?), but she seems to be someone both Very selfless (she’s a teacher (I think), presumably salaried, who still lives in her parents house with her underage and severely abused brother and the abusive father, despite having the means and the societal pressure to move out) and VERY aware of the Power Dynamics in that house. Whether or not she genuinely believes that her brothers could manage to make peace with their father or if that is a peacemaking tactic, she’s clearly got Some Thoughts about her duty, responsibility in general, et cetera, that would have been literally fascinating to explore. Storytellingwise, I think it would be fascinating if this started as a genuine beleif that she had some character development about and then began using as a coping mechanism until she got enough character development to actually experience anger.

Just HOW do you accidentally create a character with THIS MUCH potential and then completely ignore her except as (it sounds like) a minor antagonist to a secondary protagonist. When she is SO perfectly placed to be the protagonist, in a fun little antihero type of way.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

You Tag Me Before I Tag You, and You're In. No Questions Asked.

Before we get into Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex, we need to take a small detour into one of the few Fowl Short stories. Before we continue to Artemis's saga, we need to spend a little time with the Root brothers. The Artemis Fowl Files is technically two short stories and a bunch of miscellaneous worldbuilding and activites--it's a kids book, you guys--but we're going to just focus on one of the stories. Let's talk "LEPrecon."

As always, SPOILERS ABOUND below the break, so if you're not caught up on the whole Artemis Fowl series and the short stories, catch up first, then read this.

Content Warning: Arachnaphobes might want to skip this post and this book, because there are scary AF spiders, and I will be talking about them.

We're all very familiar with--and love despite his grumplestiltskin nature and low-key sexism--LEP Commander Julius Root. We're also very familiar with Captain Holly Short, first female elf to make the Reconaissance Squad, or LEPrecon. What we are less familiar with are a) How Holly got herself on recon, and b) Commander Root's dickhead older brother. This short work gives us the story of Holly's recon initiation and introduces us to criminal mastermind wanna-be Captain Turnball Root.

Y'all know that I love Opal Koboi. Well, Turnball makes me sad. Not because he's not a good villain--he is--but because his entire cat-and-mouse game with Julius is sad and it gives Julius the big sad. The TLDR on Turnball is that he was using his position as an LEP Captain to run a smuggling ring and Julius caught him with his finger on the button of a massive explosion that would have wiped out half of Haven. Julius couldn't shoot his own brother, so Turnball escaped and the two have been cat-and-mousing for 500 years.

So when Turnball shows up on the Tern Islands to fuck up Holly's initiation and strip Julius of his magic--and thereby his life, because the LEP does not employ magic-less fairies--the heartbreaking thing is not so much Turnball himself as Turnball's effect of Julius. Julius goes from the most possibly exhausted "not this shit again" to "god I wish I could just hug it out with my brother and make everything ok" to "you threatened my officers, look in my eyes and tell me I won't pull this trigger." And yet, none of that prevents Julius from instantly going for the coffee grounds when his big brother swallows a tunnel blue spider.

SIDEBAR: Holy shit Colfer, did you HAVE to stick a carnivorous spider with claws sharp enough to cut air that is small enough to TIP DOWN SOMEONE'S THROAT in the path of an utter psychopath like Turnball goddamn Root??? I was not ike...thrilled with spiders before I read this short story, and the fact that tunnel blue spiders are Turnball's favorite way of torturing and murdering other elves was NOT COMFORTING.

So yeah, Julius didn't hesitate to use the coffee grounds to stop the tunnel blue spider's heart and save his brother's life. This relationship is hard for both brothers, and the tragic thing is that not only do they both know its hard but they also can't seem to break the pattern.

Now, what does this have to do with Holly? Well, it's her initiation into recon that Turnball completely fucks up to get to Julius. The rules for the initiation are that the rookie and a senior officer (Holly and Julius, respectively, in this case) go hunting for each other. The rookie has zero resources and the senior officer has a full arsenal. Typically, these initiations are recorded and reviewed, and candidates may or may not be promoted to recon based on the review. There is, however, a loophole: If the rookie tags (with a paintball gun) the senior officer before getting tagged themself, then they skip the review process and are in, no questions asked.

Despite fully managing to pull both Julius Root's and Trouble Kelp's bacon out of the fire and successfully facilitating the arrest of Turnball and his two accomplices, Holly is basically told that she isn't trustworthy enough to be in recon. She did have to disobey a set of direct orders and demonlish a human house to rescue her people, but JULIUS, COME ON. And yet, we know that Holly is a member of recon. So what gives?

In the ballsy-est move I think I have ever seen, when she is asked if there is anything she can do to prove that she's trustworthy, she shoots Julius in the chest with her painball gun three times.

*stands up. Applauds.*

Hell yes, Holly.

So overall, I'm not generally a big short story girl; I tend to prefer longofrm storytelling, or at least a novella. That said, I thoroughly did love this short story. I thought it was a nice addition to Holly and Root's relationship, and I think it does a wonderful job of setting up Turnball for his role in The Atlantis Complex.

[coochiequeens]

Finland’s Center for Legal Protection of Health Care also stated that Penttilä should be classified as an extreme danger to others, and the Appellate Court intervened and extended his prison term by one additional year.“ The original sentence was only 9 and a half years and that was the THIRD woman he strangled to death.

A Finnish serial killer who targeted young girls and women has been categorized as a “female” criminal by Wikipedia, prompting criticism on social media. Michael Maria Penttilä, 57, has been described by national media as the “only Finn to meet the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s (FBI) definition of a serial killer,” having sexually abused and strangled multiple female victims to death, including children. Penttilä was born Jukka Torsten Lindholm, but is also known as Michael Pentholm.

Penttilä has a lengthy criminal record, which was recently highlighted in response to the revelation that he is classified as a “female” by Wikipedia. Many women expressed their outrage using the hashtag “notourcrimes,” which indicates opposition to male violence being recorded in statistics as having been committed by a woman.

Even as an adolescent, Penttilä committed sexually motivated and violent crimes. In 1981, at the age of 16, he abducted a teen girl, locked her in a basement, and beat her. Penttilä choked the girl with scarves and threatened to rape her, but she was able to flee. As punishment for the sadistic offense and a series of petty thefts, Penttilä was held at the Kerava Youth Facility in 1984 for one year.

Penttilä’s first known murder victim was of his own mother, Laina Lahja Orvokki Lindholm, whom he strangled on August 26, 1985, just after his release from the youth detention center. However, the crime was initially considered accidental by authorities, and the verdict in Penttilä’s case was ultimately decided to be wrongful death.

The next year, Penttilä met two 12 year-old girls and convinced them to accompany him to his apartment by promising to give them money to buy alcohol. He then locked one of the victims in the bathroom before using a belt to fatally strangle the other girl. Penttilä proceeded to rape the surviving girl, who was eventually able to escape after neighbors overheard her screams for help and contacted law enforcement.

It was only upon his arrest for the rape and murder of the young girls that the truth about Laina Lindholm’s death was revealed. During interrogations, Penttilä described to police how he had waited for his mother to fall asleep before donning her blue leather gloves and one of her scarves and choking her to death. He told authorities he killed his mother because she had begun dating another man since divorcing his father, and because he blamed her for not attempting to secure an early release for him from the youth facility.

In March of 1987, the Oulu District Court ruled that Penttilä was guilty of the murders of his mother and the child, and sentenced him to 9 years and seven months’ imprisonment. Despite this, the Rovaniemi Appellate Court intervened and held that Laina Lindholm’s death was not a murder, but instead a lesser crime of negligent homicide, and reduced his sentence to seven years.

Disturbingly, Penttilä confessed that he visited his mother’s grave after the killing.

Just one year after Penttilä was granted parole in May of 1992, he again choked a woman to death in his apartment in Kempele. The victim was a 42 year-old woman identified in press as Arja, and Penttilä admitted to causing her death, but claimed the murder was accidental and a result of engaging in the sadomasochistic sexual practice of erotic asphyxiation. 

Months later and while in prison, Penttilä told law enforcement his chilling motive behind the slaying. He said that he had confessed to having a “sexual abnormality” to Arja. Before her death, he told Arja that he was only capable of sadomasochistic sex, which included bondage, whipping and strangulation.

The Oulu District Court sentenced Penttilä to 9 and a half years, and a psychiatric evaluation was conducted. The examination concluded that Lindholm was sane and aware of his actions, and was therefore guilty. Finnish media reported that “[Penttilä’s] sexual inclination towards S/M sex and desire for strangulation did not show up in the examination because he focused on being as normal as possible.”

Finland’s Center for Legal Protection of Health Care also stated that Penttilä should be classified as an extreme danger to others, and the Appellate Court intervened and extended his prison term by one additional year.

In 2000, while incarcerated in Hämeenlinna Central Prison which houses both male and female inmates in separate wards, Penttilä began to wear make-up and dress in women’s clothes. According to psychiatric reports, Penttilä had a preoccupation with a hyper-masculine and violent male ideal, despite his fetishistic crossdressing tendencies. 

However, the prison’s director soon forbade him from wearing make-up and dresses, citing concerns about security. Penttilä then filed a formal complaint to Parliament’s ombudsman and attempted to argue that he was being discriminated against because female inmates were permitted to wear “men’s clothes.”

While in Hämeenlinna, Penttilä was granted permission to marry a woman named Hannele Pentholm, who was convicted of killing her husband and serving a life sentence. The two were married a short time, only two years, and after their divorce Penttilä adopted the name Michael Maria Penttilä and began claiming to be a lesbianwoman.

After he was released on parole in November 2008, Penttilä again attacked three more women on separate occasions. In May of 2009, he attempted to strangle a healthcare worker who he had called to his home to perform chiropractic services. The woman was eventually able to escape after calming Penttilä down and convincing him to release her.

He continued his violent pattern twice more: first strangling a female housecleaner he had hired to tidy his apartment, and the second just three weeks afterwards.

On June 11 of 2010, the Oulu District Court sentenced Penttilä to six years for three aggravated assaults and attempted aggravated assault, as well as aggravated rape and deprivation of liberty. The next year, the Rovaniemi Appellate Court once again interfered with the ruling and reduced Penttilä’s sentence to just four years and five months. The final verdict was upheld in October of 2012.

Penttilä was released in December of 2016, and just two years later, he murdered a prostituted woman by strangling her with stockings in his Helsinki apartment. Additionally, he had been found to have planned to murder a 17 year-old girl in 2017.

He is now serving a life sentence for the brutal slaying. 

During deliberations to determine whether Penttilä should be charged with homicide or the lesser crime of manslaughter, the court heard how he had spent hours of each day viewing pornography depicting asphyxiationleading up to the murders he had committed.

Psychologist Jan-Henry Stenberg told the Helsinki Court of Appeal that Penttilä’s pornography consumption illustrated the premeditated nature of his crime and highlighted the tendency for pornography use to escalate towards more extreme content. It was revealed that Penttilä had mimicked the actions of one of the men in a pornographic video he had watched.

Despite repeatedly targeting women and girls for sexually motivated violence, Penttilä is now listed as a “female serial killer” on Wikipedia, where editors have argued amongst themselves over this classification in the site’s open-access backend.

The page was initially created in 2018 under Penttilä’s birth name, Jukka Lindholm. 

Few changes were made until last month when, on April 5, a trans activist Wiki editor known as Maddy from Celeste updated the serial killer’s name to Michael Maria Penttilä and cited “deadnaming” as the reason.

Editor Maddy from Celeste, a pseudonym which is a nod to a video game character and its developer, is credited with having created the page “Transgender history in Finland,” and identifies as queer, trans, and non-binary.

“A serial murderer has zero rights – stop with the pathetic gender crap, HE is not a she,” reads one comment on the article’s edit page.

Other comments can be seen in the edit history and depict a back-and-forth exchange over “misgendering”, with one anonymous editor stating, “This person was born a male. Humans cannot change sex.”

In July of 2019, the category labeled “transgender serial killers” was deleted by Wikipedia editors. However, a category does exist for “female serial killers,” and Penttilä is one of two entries in the section regarding Finnish criminals.

Penttilä’s sadistic killing spree resembles the criminal behavior of American serial killer Harvey Marcelin. Marcelin, who identifies as transgender and uses the name Marceline Harvey, murdered three women and dismembered two of his victims’ bodies. Marcelin similarly targeted women trafficked in the sex industry, and is currently being held in the women’s ward at Rikers Island in New York. 

Like with Penttilä’s entry, a dispute between various Wikipedia contributors broke out over Harvey’s pronounsin 2022.

By Genevieve Gluck

Genevieve is the Co-Founder of Reduxx, and the outlet's Chief Investigative Journalist with a focused interest in pornography, sexual predators, and fetish subcultures. She is the creator of the podcast Women's Voices, which features news commentary and interviews regarding women's rights.

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE C

Kvothe Propaganda:

OKAY SO! for one thing we know for a fact that his perception of denna is different from the reality of her, but that’s the tiniest fucking TIP of the ice berg, because: WE DO NOT EVEN KNOW IF ANYTHING HE HAS TOLD US THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE COURSE OF THE STORY REALLY HAPPENED!!!!!!!!!! we know skarpi is real because chronicler knows him, we know denna is real because bast met her (if that even was the real denna) BUT WE HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE ABOUT THE ENTIRE REST OF IT !!!!!! HE COULD BE LYING OUT HIS ASS WITH EVERY WORD OUT OF HIS MOUTH!!!!!!!!! WE SIMPLY DO NOT KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LORD AND LADY I ENT EVER MET A LIAR LIKE YOU IN ME WHOLE LIFE <- ACTUAL THING SAID TO HIM WITHIN THE BOOKS, IN THE FRAME STORY, WHICH WE KNOW *IS* REAL

Kvothe (now just an innkeeper called Kote) is a man who faked his death to escape his status as a legendary hero, criminal, and villain, depending on who you ask. In the books, he admits he's lied and spread some of the more flashy legends about himself for his own purposes, but he agrees to tell his *true* life story over the course of three days. There are times he contradicts himself, brushes over details, or goes into his more extravagant deeds, but it's pretty much always in question as to how much of it is true, how much is clouded by his nostalgia for the past, and how much could be an intentional lie. I LOVE these books and I love Kvothe :)

he narrates most of the book where he is sooo good at everything and learns things very very fast and gets all the women. yeah mhm. he skips over one thing that is a huge myth because it isn't really interesting to him.

there's a frame narrative consisting of Kvothe telling the main story in order to have it recorded. there's several instances where situations are only vaguely described because Kvothe at the time wasn't mentally sound enough to remember all of them. there's also a big argument to be made for him leaving out or changing parts of his story on purpose (he even points out that, since it's his story, he's entitled to some changes if he thinks they're necessary), mostly I think he depicts his teenage self as much less of a dumbass than he actually was

Dr. John Watson Propaganda:

He literally admits that he changes his stories. "One day the true stories may be told"? Do I need to say more?

[applepiesandalibis]

My God Bless Your Black Heart (by The pAper chAse) analysis/interpretation/I'm not very sure how to call it

General content warning: lots of dark stuff like murder, suicide, death in general, abuse, sexual and religious themes. Pretty sure this will be a loooong post

Please keep in mind that it's mostly just *my* personal thoughts and views on this record and the story it tells. I will go into some details about other possible interpretations though, but it's not something I will be mainly focusing on, as I'm writing this to connect it with my original characters based on this album. I got a lot of things I'll mention here are from genius.com (my beloved) annotations, so keep that in mind too, not all of these are my original thoughts, but of course I will mostly focus on them.

OH AND ALSO, English is not my native language, so excuse any dumb mistakes of mine if I didn't notice them...

Alright, let's start :)

1. Said the Spider to the Fly

The first thing we see before the actual lyrics start is "Entry number one, I still hear the boots in the hallway". GBYBH is divided by five of these "entries", we'll get back to them soon. The line itself is a reference to I Did a Terrible Thing from the band's previous album, Hide the Kitchen Knives, where an almost identical line can be heard ("I hear the boots in the hallway again"), so we can assume, that this album is a direct continuation of HTKK.

Also, in the official lyrics the song seems to have two separate parts: words that are being said by the "Spider" (from the first line) and the ones that belong to the "Fly" (from "So if I fight a good fight" until the end). I don't have anything to say about this and the exact thought behind this, but I guess it's pretty obvious that this is our first introduction to our main characters (who appear to be a straight couple with very complicated relationships). I'm also pretty sure that the chorus is sang by neither of them, but by some third person.

Alright, let's talk about the song itself. It has a looot of references to Jeffrey Dahmer and even uses a sample from his trial, though it was proven by John Congleton himself that it's not directly about this individual. He's being used as a metaphor for someone/something else. It's not uncommon for TPC to reference serial killers and other criminals in their stuff. It was done on their previous records and will also be done on the later ones.

In this song we hear the phrase "God bless your heart" for the first time. It will appear again several times throughout the album. The interesting thing is: this phrase could be used both as an insult and as a genuine expression of sympathy. Again, I'll go into some deeper detail about this later.

In general, I think this track works as some kind of foreshadowing to the next ones, especially the chorus. One of the main ideas this album explores is people not sinning just because they want to go to heaven or deserve some "prize".

Okay, it's not a very interesting song to analyze (I still absolutely love it, though, don't get me wrong!), so let's move on.

2. One Day He Went Out for Milk and Never Came Home

In the lyrics before this track we see "Entry number two, at one point I had the time... now time has me". I don't think this worth commenting?

This song gives us a more clear view on what the characters' relationships are like. The main character seems to be abusive towards his partner, judging by the next lyrics. "Your smoke alarms and barred windows / Can't save your house, God burn your soul" could mean that the victim (A.K.A. his partner) cannot escape from him, he also promises to "never let [her] die", which could, again, mean the unwillingness to let her go. "Is my dinner in the oven? / Lovebird, you haven't touched your bread" may be about the protagonist only caring about her serving him (cooking for him, etc.) even if she will literally starve because of it or lose interest in her own life to the point that she refuses to eat.

Then, we are exposed to the way our protagonist manipulates his victim and calls her various cute nicknames, to make her believe he loves her:

My tender jewel, my precious pearl / My ruby red, my diamond girl

"I'll never touch a hair on your pretty head" may be about the same thing — him denying that he is abusive towards his girlfriend/wife.

This song contains some references to the previous one ("I want your heart, I want your head") and one of the next ones ("The sinking ship, the grand applause", which is the name of another song).

There's also some religious things: for example, "Do you want to go to heaven?" being repeated several times. And the song ends with a bunch of lines from The Tibetan Book Of Living And Dying.

3. What I'd Be Without Me

We are witnessing the protagonist writing something in his diary — it can be taken both as a metaphor and/or literally. It also explains the "entries" we see throughout the album.

There's a line that says "My sweet body will turn on me", which could be one of many lyrics about a body (or, more specifically, hands) not being fully controlled with one's mind in The Paper Chase's discography. That was a common theme in Congleton's songs, I'll link the genius annotation here if you want to read more about it, I'm not really good at explanations. This could mean that our protagonist can't control himself, he makes big mistakes because of this and they look like awful ink spots on a white paper in his "diary". Maybe I'm going too deep into this, I don't know, that's just an assumption.

The main character starts to think about "what girls and boys want/need", and basically about the relationships between a man and a woman.

Then, the first name on this album is mentioned — Abeline, or Abby (it would make sense if you assume both names belong to her. I'm sure you can make a different interpretation as well, where they are two separate people, but let's just go with it). The protagonist tells her to "not forget what she'll be without him", so yeah, he's being a manipulative asshole again, I guess.

Let's move to the next song on this note.

4. The Sinking Ship, The Grand Applause

One of my favorite songs on this album. And it's very interesting to analyze!

Let's start with a little fact I found out about recently while googling this song: there's a Gotham episode that was possibly named after it! I'm not familiar with this series, but from what I've heard, it's not uncommon for its episodes to be named after songs, so yeah, I just think it's really nice. :)

Now, about the track itself.

The lyrics start with "Entry number three, I've come to the conclusion that I am not in fact a messiah after all". Pretty self-explanatory, I guess, especially after you listen to the song. John has also said that it's kinda autobiographical. In general, it's just about realizing that the world doesn't revolve around you.

Grandfather burned up to ash and returned to the earth it spawned / This nefarious prank that's controlled by the lengths of his arms / And the kindred is gathering by coffin and chaplain on his behalf / And [a] discreet tender man clears his throat, waves his hand following a laugh

This appears to be about a funeral of some old man ("grandfather"). We'll talk about him later.

The next verse goes like this:

Like a fat baby's birth, like a cry and a curse at the breathing space / While the mother rejoices, ten fingers, ten toes, and a handsome face / And the family is gasping, each one can't help asking «How was it, my dear?» / Like a scorn for the one that was torn and deformed for the next cruel years, next cruel years

Obviously, some woman has just given birth to a child. Her and her family are celebrating and all of them are glad that the child is "normal". Meanwhile, somewhere else there is also the one who isn't — the one who will remain "torn and deformed for the next cruel years", which can refer to either physical or mental condition of this person. And I'm pretty sure it's about our main character again: he is that one child who was born "wrong" and can't do anything about it. He couldn't live normally because of something that wasn't accepted by society and that probably traumatised him and not getting help resulted in him becoming a terrible person he is. The first child could be literally anyone, probably even Abby herself, which could also explain why is he so abusive towards her — he simply envies her.

So I'll cut you all open, I'll see what's inside you or what's missing / While this virgin, your daughter, skirt down in the altar - she don't owe you a God damn thing / 'Cause she's gorgeous, I'll take her to the house by the lake where I'll write her a song / While you fat pigs with call-girls, they dance in the ballrooms shaking their wallets at God / And the notes fill the pages, I scramble to paste up my bleeding heart / And this sick song moves on, if you're lucky lifelong you can sing a part as it falls apart

Okay. I have a lot to say about this one.

These lyrics can be interpreted in many ways, depending on who you consider the "daughter" to be — Abby or someone else. In the first case the line is about the past, when her and protagonist just met and were genuinely in love with each other. However, if you see this as some other character — it's most likely about the protagonist cheating on Abby with someone who he will be truly happy with.

Anyway, in both of these cases it's clear that the "daughter" is not like her father, who seems to be hated by the main character for being one of the wealthy greedy people who, again, believe in god just so they can get something from him, all they do is "shake their wallets" at him. The protagonist has already expessed his hatred towards this type of people, but here we can see it perfectly. Actually, this phrase can also be referring to the "call-girls", so they're the ones shaking wallets at god. Anyway, you get what it's criticizing. Also, the theme of some guy saving a girl he loves from the hands of her awful abusive father can be seen in some other TPC songs: for example, At The Other End of The Leash is most likely about it, and there are some other songs where it's mentioned as well.

So, in both of those scenarios it starts as pure and innocent love, but soon we'll see that everything is ruined.

The last two lines, as well as the "And the band plays on" that we can hear several times throughout the song tell us that life is... kinda cruel. When someone's suffering or dying it's a tragedy just for this person and, maybe, for the ones who know them — everyone else on this planet doesn't care. Because they simply don't know about it. And the one who's suffering don't care about the people they don't know. The band will keep playing, some people will keep celebrating their happiness while someone else is experiencing horrible things. That's just how life is. You don't really matter. No one does. But maybe it's for the best.

And, well, our protagonist is the one who is not the part of this "orchestra", so he has to listen to their awfully festive melodies that feel absolutely wrong for him.

Okay, feels like I got too serious... Next one!

5. Piggy's Had Too Much Wine

One of the sample/"divider" tracks on the album. Don't have that much to say about it, honestly.

We can hear someone talking about loneliness and there's also a line that says "you're 60 years old" — in this context can be easily seen as "you're running out of time", "you're going to die soon", etc.

Well, I'm pretty sure the main character is somewhere in his 20s, but it can still be about him being scared of getting older and dying alone.

I couldn't find any information on where this sample comes from, though.

The song ends with "Get rid of 'em"...

6. Ready, Willing, Cain and Able

...and in the next one we hear the following:

See, but once you bury somebody, it was already gone. Once they were in the ground, they weren't my problem.

Something I really like in TPC songs is the way they're connected between each other: a sample starting in one song and continuing in the other, like here, is a good example of this. That's why I always recommend listening to their albums in the correct order.

This sample itself comes from an interview with John Wayne Gacy, an infamous serial killer. As I've said before, it's not an uncommon thing for the band to use samples of criminals, especially serial killers. That can also be seen comparing one or some of the characters to such people.

This song has an interesting name: it's a word play that combines a story about Cain and Abel (a religious reference once again) and most likely the name of a 1937 movie "Ready, Willing and Able". I've never watched that movie, so I really can't say anything about it and if there are any references to it in the song.

A line I'd like to mention is "I'm 26 and running out of time". According to John Congleton, it is, again, pretty much autobiographical and he really was 26 at the time when he wrote it, but it can also be about the main character. The fear of getting older and dying before you make something meaningful has been already expressed a bunch of times in previous tracks (and will also be expressed on the band's next record, Now You Are One Of Us, just in a bit different way. I'll probably write about that album too someday!)

The rest of the lyrics contains the narrator being critical of religion (once again) and a lot of what can be easily seen as threats. "They're coming for you" can be read in different ways:

1) It's something the main character says to his victim (whoever that victim is. Could be Abby's abusive father who is being killed by the protagonist, or someone she cheated on him with, or someone completely different, you can imagine basically anything here), meaning that he and "his guys", or something like that, are coming to kill that person;

2) It's the protagonist thinking about how someone is coming for him after what he did.

But yeah, in these two interpretations it's clear that he murdered someone he really hated and now is suffering because of guilt/paranoia/whatever.

3) The protagonist never killed anyone, but still did something that led him to being threatened by some evil guys. So, in this case the song is not from his perspective, it's some other person or group of people.

Anyway, the song ends with "Yes, a war is coming", which is a sample from a 1988 movie called Talk Radio. And also... Bingo! The name of a track that will appear on this album soon. It possibly means that some kind of "war" between our main character and whoever the second side is has started.

7. Now, We Just Slowly Circle the Draining Fish Bowl

This one starts with "I'll come back from the war", which could means that it has already ended or it's just the main character imagining what will happen after. The whole verse goes like this:

I'll come back from the war / But everything I'll touch seems to break / And I won't be the same man / I won't be the same man you knew / And I was somewhat tickled by your gauge / Of your ticker tape parade / Now you know and you know that I know / We could dance all night here on their graves / God bless our black souls

Let's keep assuming that "war" means whatever happened in the previous song, with the MC finally escaping/getting rid of whoever threatened him. The protagonist is being compared to a soldier, who comes back from the war, but can't live the same anymore and can't bring himself to care about all the parades thrown to honor him. This metaphor can seem kinda weird, especially considering that the MC is not a "hero" and he shouldn't be compared to people who risk their lives at war, but still, for him it was a war, his own battle that he won.

Also, regarding the last lines: it's clear that he's saying them to someone he loves, but it's most likely that this time his feelings are genuine, so he either has changed his mind about Abby (and it wouldn't be the last time he does so), or he's simply refering to the second woman, who he truly loves.

Later, the protagonist starts to wish himself all kinds of bad things ("Hope I choke, hope I stroke, catch the flu"), probably regretting what he did and hating himself.

Wife resents kids that fuck in your room / When we laugh, we’ll be laughing at you / When you circle your draining fish bowl / Sell your house, sell your car, sell your soul / Spend your whole life just praying to spend your life

Finally, those lines imply that he keeps wasting his life by spending it with a family he hates and thinking he'll never feel happy again. That's why he seeks love somewhere else, escaping his tragic reality and building a new relationship without his wife and kid(s) knowing about it, or simply spending time with women he barely knows. Maybe, family life wasn't made for him at all, but it was way too late when he realized it. That's pretty sad.

8. A War Is Coming

Entry number four, welcome home Henry. So table for one, is it?

Wow! A name! Who is Henry, you may ask? Pretty sure that's the name of our protagonist (and now I can finally stop referring to him that way). You'll get why I think so later, this isn't the last mention of this name on the album.

So, Henry is being welcomed by someone in a restaurant or some place like that. He probably visits it very often, so it starts to feel like home. Maybe even like his real home.

The track itself is simply just a repeating of various common sayings with the word "heart" — including "God bless your black heart", which is the name of the album (in case you forgot).

What does a heart usually symbolize? That's right — love and feelings. So, for me this track is a representation of Henry's feelings. It sounds extremely chaotic, and so are they. We can imagine that emotions have always been a hard thing for him to deal with and it seems like it simply drives him insane when there's too many of them.

Now, another question: why is it called A War Is Coming if we decided that the last track was about the main character already coming back from his "war"? I don't really know. But probably it's about how he still has to go through the hardest battle — the inner one. He has to deal with his feelings and maybe... forgive himself... Um, I'll get back to this later.

Well, at least that's how I see it, but maybe I'm thinking too much yet again.

9. Your Ankles to Your Earlobes

This song is basically about Henry running away after all of the shit he had done.

So Abby, it's far too late for me / I left a notebook on the shelf / Just take the keys, just save yourself / My little Abby, and soon they'll come for me / Just tell my son that I'm sorry / I'll disappear, you now are free

He leaves Abeline alone and asks her to give his apologies to their son. It feels like in this song his words actually mean something. Like, he seems more genuine, probably he's truly sorry about the terrible thing(s) he have commited and that is the reason he's leaving now. It is possible that he will be murdered by someone as a "punishment" for whatever he did — or just simply will end up in prison — so, obviously, he doesn't want his family to know about it and everything he can do is just leave them. You start appreciating something more after losing it, so that's probably the case here too and that's why he finally starts to care about those people.

And Abby, it's far too late for me / I left a checkbook on the shelf / Just take the keys, just save yourself / My little Abby, I hope you die laughing / All fat and cheeky in your warm bed / The raven, the vulture won't circle your head / My sweet queen bee, I hope it comes quickly / I hope your thoughts don't drift to me / I'll die in here, you now are free

Why is she dying? Of course these words could have a literal meaning, but very unlikely, so let's not focus on that. Remember the songs we discussed earlier — I think it's because she simply can't live without him. If Henry will leave or (god forbid!) die, her life would be absolutely ruined. So, even when he seems more "kind" in this song, he's still himself and still can't bring himself to care about Abby more than about his own life. He still has chances to get away and live happily with a new family (if we look at some of the next songs, seems like it's actually what happened then), but Abby will suffer. And Henry knows that. What a bastard, am I right?

This verse also really contrasts with the second song, where the protagonist promised he would never let her die.

10. Let's Be Bad, Henry, Let's Be Really Bad

(As if he wasn't bad enough already, huh)

Oh, what a song. Okay, so it starts with:

Henry, tell your wife everything / Henry, put your bible under your hand/head / Henry, bite your lip if she says / "Do you love me? Do you love me?"

Someone (or something) is convincing him to come back to his wife until it's too late and, considering the bible being mentioned, even confess all his sins and pray to be forgiven. Sounds interesting, if you remember his disgust towards religion that has been expressed many times before.

The "voice" that tells it is most likely his own inner voice. Deep down he knows that what he did was incredibly wrong and he should at least try to accept it and ask for forgiveness (even if he doesn't deserve it).

Wife bedside, she's in heaven right now / A voice from the ground / Come to me, come to me, come to me, come to me / Wife bedside, the good son says his goodbye / A voice from pine box / Come to me, come to me, come to me, come to me

Feels like he's also very much paranoid about this whole thing. He can "hear" the voices of his, probably now deceased, wife and child. And they're inviting him to come with them. Obviously, the "pine box" here is a coffin, so they want him to be dead, just like them. It doesn't matter if it's about literal death or it's a simple metaphor to "feeling" dead, it's clear that they want him to suffer like they did. Or at least that's what he thinks.

The girls you got inside? Tell me every time you tried / Tell me everything / Come to me, come to me, come to me

Also pretty obvious, but this is about him cheating/having one-night relationships with sex workers. Henry probably thinks Abeline will also find out about that soon and the shame he feels makes him want to "come to her" even more.

I think it's *also* worth mentioning that there's a little instrumental sample that repeats a melody from Your Ankles to Your Earlobes, one of the next songs. Love how literally everything on this album is so beautifully connected.

There's really not much to say about this track as it's pretty self-explanatory, but I adore the atmosphere it creates. It's so heartbreakingly sad and you can really feel every emotion that the narrator goes through, so even if you think he's a terrible being (which is a very valid point) you can still kinda symphatize with him here. One of my favorites, not only on this record, but in the whole TPC discography!

11. Now You're Gonna Get It

That's funny how in this song it seems like Henry lost all of his good feelings to Abby again. He probably have changed his mind about her a hundred times by now. My guy has some terrible mood swings, or whatever even is that... Seriously, this could be a result of untreated mental ilness(es), because it's pretty clear that he's not mentally stable (and I really doubt Abby is).

Well, the song starts with:

Are you planning your escape? / Are you crumbling for the evening when I'm asleep and you're awake? / I swear to God, I'll take it to the grave / Are you planning your escape?

This could be Henry saying this to Abby, or vice versa, or it's from someone else's perspective, I don't know. This verse can have a lot of different interpretations, so it's up to you to decide which one you like.

The phrase "She's a wonderful actress" can be heard a bunch of times in this song. Of course it's our poor little angel Henry once again saying that Abeline just manipulates him by playing a victim! But wait, when did we decide that she was absolutely innocent?

Okay, I'm not gonna do any kind of victimblaiming here, but I'm trying to say that we never got to hear the full story. Maybe both of them are abusive and these relationships are harmful for both sides? That could be the case, considering human sins being the main theme of this album. None of the characters mentioned here are "good".

Honestly, no idea what to say about the rest of the lyrics. Again, this song doesn't have only one "correct" interpretation, so I'd like to stop here. Though it's clear that the song is about hatred and abuse, once again. Just listen to this song and imagine your own story based on it, I think that would be even more interesting than just reading me reciting every single variation that can be seen here.

One more thing: there is a sample that says:

Tired of your suffering, tired of your having pain, tired of your being misunderstood".

This comes from Funeral Eulogy For Elder Marguerite McClain (Excerpt), which is the first track from Dancing With The Dead: The Music Of Global Death Rites. The sample is probably completely out of context, so here it can easily be read in the same hateful nature, and that's why it suits the rest of the song very well.

12. Abby, Your Going to Burn for What You've Done to Me

As we can see from the name, Henry just keeps blaming his beloved wife in everything for reasons that will not be revealed to us for the rest of the album.

The track itself also contains a sample from that exact source I mentioned just a minute ago. This time it says the following:

Better off as a result of having died, glory to God, and we all too must die one day. But the thing about it is, will you be ready?

Then it's just some slightly changed lyrics from One Day He Went Out for Milk...

Alright, so Nobody_of_any_importance on Genius made this annotation that I'd really like to share because it's so well written:

The album enters its final stages, beginning with this reprise of “One Day He Went Out For Milk And Never Came Home.” However, whereas before there was fire and brimstone, now there is quiet resignation in its place.

I really can't think of anything that could describe this track and this album better, so credits to this person! By the way, they have done a lot for the TPC fandom in general which I think is very cool.

Although the exact details of what occurred across the prior tracks of this album are open to interpretation, there were certainly a lot of bad people who did a lot bad things. From this point on, the album’s tone shifts radically from vengeance and rage towards themes of guilt, remorse, and fear of God’s judgement as they relate to the terrible things that the narrator has done over the course of the album.

13. Your Pretty Little Head

We're being meet with a melody from The Sinking Ship, The Grand Applause, and a sample from The Green Mile (1999), which simply says "I hope it hurts like hell" and which was also used in The Sinking Ship... (but I did not mention that before for some reason).

Then there's yet another sample from Funeral Eulogy For Elder Marguerite McClain. This one says:

If there's any out there today that have not made preparation for this final day, now is the acceptable time. You don't know what tomorrow is gonna bring.​ Will you be ready? Will you be ready? Will you be ready? Will you be ready? I'm like you, I hate to give her up, we just hate to give her up, but we've got to give her up. Will you be ready? Will you be ready?

Okay. Don't you dare thinking I'm just being lazy to write my own thoughts, I still have a lot to say, but let me just paste one more annotation by the same user:

Following an album full of madness, vengeance, and murder, the narrator is seemingly overcome with guilt and regret. There is nothing left for him now, except to contend with the idea that there may be an afterlife and a god to whom he will ultimately have to answer (hence the sampled pastor talking about making preparations for “this final day”).

Also, I think that the name of this song could be, once again, a reference to the second track. Don't you think it's being referenced too many times? Hm? But that might be just a stretch.

Now, we're heading to our most important part...

14. Dying With Decent Music

We're being met with "Entry number five, you now are free" (which was also a line used in Your Ankles to Your Earlobes btw).

And the final song begins.

Well, maybe better you than me / You're much weaker, you're more clumsy / When I forfeit my patience to you / So maybe you've had too much wine

For me this sounds like Henry trying to accept that he is the bad one here. Again.

"Maybe you've had too much wine" is possibly him trying to find an excuse for Abby's behavior that he (for whatever reason) hated so much while they were living together. It also references track 5 which is called Piggy's Had Too Much Wine. Or vice versa, it was named after this line.

We can see him once again confirming that he spent a lot of his time with prostitutes: the song contains lyrics like "...ankles swell up as my lady works the room" and "Oh my hostess, oh my pick up, oh my dreadful… my white slave" (all of these words can be used for sex workers).

"Let them die while some decent music plays" probably refers to... Well, everyone Henry knew in his life. While having sex with some lady and really enjoying it, he's thinking about wanting to let all of them go ("die"), stay with this woman forever, keep pleasing himself and finally become free.

When the shit shoe stumble, that's me, dirty nails and awful thoughts / I'll use the words used up on commercials / Like such sharp boys like to write songs, music, and quick lines / This feeling, I can't confine that to a rhyme / But maybe I can, if I see you on the other side

The "shit shoe" can be a different way to say "shit heel", which is simply used to describe "a contemptible person". The alternate version of this line, heard in one of the band's live perfomances is "When the shit shoe stumble, that's me, scratching nails outside your box". Again, the "box" here means coffin and probably implies him trying to reach out to Abby, even if she's already "dead" (at least to him).

Henry tries to use pretty words to describe his feelings, but fails: he wasn't made for it, he's not one of those poets/songwriters and everything he's going to say will sound awful. Just like him.

I really like how this verse uses an unidentified (as far as I know) sample of a woman screaming and it's being used as a part of the instrumental. It fits in this part so well you barely pay attention to it, but then it ends right when John says the word "rhyme" and it creates such a great feeling. I can't even explain it, but I think you'll get it if you listen. They also did almost the same thing in the chorus of Said the Spider to the Fly.

And that's not the only thing that connects these two tracks. Once again, probably a big big stretch, but it came to my head that this can be linked to "You'll never have to find the words, they come spilling unrehearsed / But you and I will never find that peace" — a line from the first song.

Also think it worth mentioning that "lines", "rhyme" and "side" do rhyme pretty well. And that's probably intentional.

So, our narrator is dying, or probably even killing himself — this theory is supported by the fact that John Congleton used to mime a rope around his neck in several live performances of this song. This also looks like a little foreshadowing to their next album, Now You Are One Of Us, which has a hanged man on its cover, but I'm 99% sure that's not the case. Just a silly thing I thought about.

Henry wants to reconnect with one of the women mentioned on the album after his death, so they can finally be together, in peace. Though it's not entirely clear if he believes in afterlife (that's why it's "if I see you on the other side"). I think it's about his wife, because she's the one who "died" and earlier on this track he finally forgave her.

The track is coming to its end with Mr. Congleton tragically screaming "I will be free" for a couple of times while the most amazing instrumental you will ever hear in your entire life is playing. If this part doesn't make you incredibly emotional and you don't think it's absolutely beautiful, then... Well, I strongly disagree with you.

We can hear one last sample from The Tibetan Book Of Living And Dying :

What is born will die / What has been gathered will be dispersed /What has been accumulated will be exhausted / What has been built up will collapse / And what has been high will be brought low

And then... footsteps. You may remember the first entry which also mentioned them ("the boots in the hallway"). My favorite part about this is actually the fact that in Said the Spider... there's the sound of footsteps at the very beggining and in this track it's at the end, so the album can loop perfectly.

Now, what does all of this mean?

Hm. Maybe, the main character is in his own personal hell now, and the loop is the way to tell us that he will suffer forever, even after his death, so he can finally pay for his sins. Or maybe he didn't die at all — it was just a metaphor, the way to show us the chaos going on in his sick head. Maybe nothing was real? Maybe some of these things never happened? I don't think this "Henry" guy is a very reliable narrator, so who knows.

We're not supposed to know. We can only guess.

And that's what I find so amazing about this album: it can have a million different interpretations. You can see it as a totally different story rather than what I wrote here. Or maybe you don't see a story with some plot and characters here at all, and for you it's just the artist's thoughts and feelings being presented this way. It's up to you to decide.

For me, God Bless Your Black Heart is one of the greatest albums ever made (sorry for sounding dramatic, but really). There's just SO many little details and references you can think about, it almost makes my little brain explode. It hurts to see it being so underrated. If you never listened to The pAper chAse before but somehow got to this point of my hilariously long essay and you're interested — please do. You won't regret it.

And, well, reblogs are incredibly appreciated. I spent A LOT of time on this (for a bunch of different reasons), so of course I want this post to reach... at least someone, lol. Also, if you have anything to add — it's always welcomed. I'd really love to hear your thoughts! :)

Thank you for reading!!!

UPD 9/12/2024: I came back to this post after a year because I am writing the same thing for Now You Are One Of Us right now and noticed a couple of mistakes/little things that I now think were unnecessary, so I got rid of them. Didn't make any big changes (even though I have some things to add — my interpretation has changed a bit after writing this — they are just less important than what I've already written here), but I still think it's worth mentioning. Just in case someone reads this.

[lurkingshan]

Hi Shan! I had a thought that I wanted to pass along to the ephemerality squad, specifically with regard to accountability and consequences. All these boys are acting like their actions don't have consequences beyond personal and interpersonal hurt, but with the exception of Boston and Top, they're all doing things that could have extremely permanent consequences - given that every single one of them has committed at least one actual crime. Every single one of those boys who has come into possession of that sex audio has been guilty of some combination of theft, possession of stolen materials, blackmail and/or criminal threat and some variety of sex crime (in my country it's possession/distribution of illegally-acquired pornographic material i.e. the 'revenge porn law'). If the sex tape or the sex audio makes its way into the public sphere, as is starting to seem increasingly likely, they may not just be facing shame or reputational damage, they could be looking at actual jail time. And Boston and Top were recorded during their hookups with Gap, so they're both at risk of being victims of blackmail or revenge porn.

Hey anon, thanks for sending these thoughts! I totally agree with your assessment of the disconnect between how easily these characters decide to do these reckless things and the potential long-term consequences of them. They are all very young and most of them are also fairly well-off financially, which gives them a feeling of invincibility and insulation from consequences.

I was struck in this last episode by learning that Ray’s dad is well aware of his drunk driving habit, because where are the consequences? Does he take away Ray’s car, restrict his access to funds, or monitor him in any way? Nope. He just delivers a hollow lecture at him and goes back to leaving him to his own devices, free to hurt not only himself but also others who just happen to stumble into his destructive path. And we know Boston’s dad already has an escape hatch planned for him if he fails in school—he’ll simply ship him off to NYC. It’s no wonder these boys behave this way when no one has ever held them accountable.

Tagging @ranchthoughts for ephemerality tracking.

[supersonicart]

Gabriel Sanchez: "Silencio."

Currently on view at Luis De Jesus Los Angeles in Los Angeles, California is artist Gabriel Sanchez's solo exhibition, "Silencio."

Sanchez uses portraiture as a means to make visible the contemporary reality of Cuban citizens. Stranded on an oppressive island, young Cubans are angry and disillusioned. They are in crisis, lacking basic resources due to constant food and power shortages and unable to openly express themselves for fear of retaliation. They call for freedom in all forms—a demand which erupted in the historic 11 July protests of 2021. However, under continual threat of detainment and criminalization by authorities, public activism has largely dissipated. Many Cubans now search desperately for escape, risking their lives because they have nothing left to lose. As a consequence, the ongoing mass migration from Cuba is at a record high, eclipsing the numbers of previous decades.

Sanchez finds himself amidst these tensions in his intimate portraits of those closest to him as well as complete strangers. Within the paintings, his subjects contemplate their impending forced exodus and the families they may have to leave behind. Their emotions are intense, the frustration they feel palpable. Some cannot suppress their outrage, while others silently weigh their options. Sanchez renders the humanity of Cubans with tenderness; he captures their vulnerability, but also their strength and spirit. Many of his subjects have already left Cuba and their portraits linger as a reminder of their former lives. Yet, there is a collective understanding that, in leaving the empty island which is slowly dying from its antiquated ideals and repression, they journey toward a fulfilling future—a new life beyond conflict and strife, with more potential and freedom than anything they can experience back in Cuba. 

THE SUPERSONIC ART SHOP | FOLLOW ON INSTAGRAM

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for calling the "wrong" person on purpose?

I (30's?M) am basically the chief of police in my small, backwater town. Except I don't have so much authority because I'm under the supervision of another guy, whom I hate (40M, call him S). I'm pretty friendly with R (37M), the owner of a saloon in town. I don't know much about him, but he's a funny guy and we go along well.

Recently, an evaded guy (late 30's?M), V, came around because our town is basically the only point of transit to another town that allows people to go through the border basically unchecked.

I told R about that because who am I kidding? Everyone knows R has basically a way for V to leave the town without being stopped. I told R not to help him, and R said V wouldn't need help, since he'd already escaped from everywhere S and his buddies had tried to put him before (that's in another state, that's why I'm saying "S" not "us", i'm not part of the same force as them). I bet 10k bucks with R that V couldn't escape. He wanted to bet 20k bucks but i was like no sorry i may be corrupt but i'm not that rich.

Later, S came to the saloon and asked R if he was going to help V, and R was like "haha no thanks, the only reason i'm rooting for him is because I bet 10k bucks on him but i'm not going to get a record for that yk"

But later, R told me to come because V was at his house and he wanted me to arrest him (turns out V had stolen R's girlfriend years prior?) so he could run away with the girl.

So I went there, and R literally threatened me into calling the border patrol so they'd let all of them pass, because he was on V's side actually. Now, I'm a sentimentalist, and I would have totally been onboard the whole scheme if i'd been in. But R literally bet 10 thousand bucks with me and now he was holding me at gunpoint in order to help V escape! That was so not what sportmanship is!

So I took the phone but instead of calling the border patrol, I called S, and told him, as if calling the border patrol, that we were all coming, V and R and I, to cross the border in an hour. I'm writing this on my way to the airport so idk how it will all go down but anyway:

AITA for calling S instead of the border patrol?

(edit: V was in prison for political reasons, he's not like a violent criminal or anything, that I know)

[noperopesaredope]

My Slightly Cringey Transformers OC

Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally give in to their inner "cringe" and make a canon-non-compliant Transformers Prime OC.

Me.

It's me.

I'm the one who decided to make a dumb OC.

Now, let me start off by saying that I have only watched Rescue Bots and about half of Transformers Prime (I'm partway through Season 2). I don't remember much about the lore, and in this instance, I don't exactly care. This OC likely breaks some lore in relation to Cybertronian history and society, and I'm not really gonna do anything about it. It's also one of those OCs that I just kinda inserted into the team and pretend that she's always been there this whole time.

I did this purely for self-indulgent reasons, because I wanted to make a big cool robot who is morally grey and will help people with their redemption arcs. Please be understanding of that fact. I'm working on just allowing myself to create "dumb" and "cringy" OCs and stories, because this is all just for fun, and why should I limit myself?

So, with that out of the way, please enjoy.

Tireslash is a relatively liked member of the Autobots, but she has a few dark secrets that she constantly worries will get her kicked out of the group. Long before the war, Tireslash was a member of the infamous criminal group known as the Ground Shakers. They were essentially like a bank robbing gang, but instead of stealing money, they stole energon and resold it on the streets. It was a very organized criminal enterprise, with carefully planned operations, separated teams of thieves, and a network of distributors. And Tireslash wasn’t just a random grunt, oh no. She was someone working on the field, actively participating in robberies and some of the more violent stuff. She led her own team and personally knew the head of the Ground Shakers (though they weren’t super close or anything).

However, eventually the organization fell apart, and most of its members were arrested, including Tireslash, whose teammates were killed during a raid, the same one in which she was eventually caught (though it is later revealed that her second in command, Firewall, actually survived and went into hiding). Tireslash was sent to prison, where she reflected on her life and began to regret her crimes. 

She remained there for a long while, until one day, the war broke out. At a later point in the war, the war came to the area which her prison was in, and the prison wasn’t safe from the blasts as the battle raged on around it. The wall next to Tireslash’s cell ended up being destroyed by a stray blaster shot, and she and many other prisoners ended up escaping in the ensuing chaos. Somehow, Tireslash managed to find a small ship, and she stole it, escaping to another area across the planet. Due to this being later in the war, a lot of stuff had been destroyed, and many computers and systems with Tireslash’s criminal records in it were deleted.

Due to this (and being a more obscure criminal whose crimes occurred long ago), Tireslash was able to join the Autobots with few suspicions against her. She liked Optimus’ vibes and beliefs, and had heard about some of the more atrocious behavior of the Decepticons, something she no longer wished to be associated with.

I might make it so that Optimus has his suspicions about her past, and may have even found out about Tireslash’s crimes long ago, but after getting to know her, he was able to tell that she likely regretted her past, and had developed a good heart. He believes in second chances for many bots, and seeing how willingly Tireslash took that chance to do genuine good, Optimus decided to never mention his insight into her past. None of the other Autobots know Tireslash’s secret, and it is only at a slightly later point in the series that her past is revealed, about partway through.

This happens in an episode in which Bumblebee and Tireslash are patrolling an old ship that was a prisoner-transport-ship-turned-energon-transport-ship. Some of the old files were saved in the ship’s computer, and Bumblebee choses to go through a few of them while Tireslash continues to patrol the ship. Bumblebee accidentally ends up stumbling across Tireslash’s old prisoner files, which outline some of her past crimes and history. He is both shocked and unsure what to do with this information, and when Tireslash comes back into the room, he quickly clicks out of it and pretends he didn’t see it. This will lead to some drama later on, and at some point, while Tireslash is out, the truth will come out to the whole team, with the records appearing on the screen of the main computer and everyone staring at them. Tireslash then walks in, and freezes at the sight of her mugshot-type-picture.

She then proceeds to immediately flee the base, panicking. More drama ensues, and it is very fun (for me. Not for the characters).

But anyways, I should talk a bit about her personality.

When we first meet her, Tireslash has already had her reformation and redemption arc, so she is somewhat likable at this point (though she was already somewhat likable even back when she was a baddie). Very friendly and encouraging, Tireslash tries to see the best in almost everyone, and if any Decepticons happen throughout the series, she is likely to quickly welcome them in with open arms. She is very open minded and, despite having been a violent robber, very sympathetic when others talk about their feelings.

She also cares a lot about her friends and teammates, valuing them over everything else and protecting them with her life. This is why she was so well respected by her old team, and why she is well liked by her fellow Autobots. She puts a lot of effort into maintaining positive relationships with the people in her life, hanging out with them and lifting them up when they’re feeling down. She can also be a very good person to work with when trying to work with people who don’t work well with others and are often unfriendly. Tireslash is almost immune to feeling insulted, and even the most mean and sour of people will barely phase her. 

I actually initially thought her up because I was thinking about potential Starscream Redemption AUs, and I wanted to, for funsies, make a character on the team who quickly empathizes with him for personal reasons. So if I do have any kind of Starscream Redemption in an AU where she exists, she will immediately be like “well, I guess you’re part of the family now.” He could constantly be trying to insult her and act contrary, and she’ll basically laugh it off.

Tireslash is just very easy to get along with for many people, and it can be very fun in regards to character dynamics. However, she is not without her flaws.

While she tries her best, Tireslash can admittedly have some issues regarding understanding others, and will occasionally say some pretty hurtful or insensitive things by mistake. She means well and wants to do good, but she can occasionally forget how things like death have an emotional effect on people. 

In a Starscream Redemption AU, Tireslash and Arcee may have an argument over whether or not to forgive Starscream, and Tireslash unintentionally says something really insensitive things to Arcee in regards to Cliffjumper, resulting in a temporary rift in their relationship. Whilst she might be shown to have many very good points about redemption and forgiveness, Tireslash is explicitly presented as being in the wrong here. She later ends up apologizing to Arcee, and they make up, explaining their points more calmly.

Generally, Tireslash is good at working her way into people’s hearts through her friendliness and ability to shrug things off, forgiving and forgetting quite quickly. However, she is also somewhat socially awkward, and this can cause problems in a few of her relationships. She forgets about personal space a lot, which can get very uncomfortable very quickly. She is a bit too blunt, stating things that she really didn’t need to say aloud, and putting other people off.

When she was robbing and hurting people, she really didn’t seem to process the fact that her actions affect others, not thinking much about it or the morality of her actions. While she’s gotten better at that, she wasn’t always good at it. She just sometimes forgets that her actions have consequences, and that is a major flaw of her’s. Tireslash also has some impulse issues, and can be a bit triggerhappy. Again, she may be reformed and somewhat redeemed, but old habits die hard, and her slight violent tendencies is one of those habits. She can forget where to draw the line, and occasionally needs to be reminded to chill out a bit.

Tireslash is an experienced fighter, having been part of a crime syndicate after all, and while she’s developed a tamer fighting style that’s more fine tuned, her past still shows. Tireslash heavily relies on her weapons, but she actually doesn’t use her blasters all that often. That is because blasting at energon could be dangerous, and so she and her team were ordered to use their blasters as little as possible. This is why she’s best at using her blades and objects around her, tending to improvise in the middle of a fight.

She also does a lot of ambushing, trying to knock her opponents out before she even needs to fight them. But if she needs to fight, she will continue to focus on mainly knocking people out as quickly and efficiently as possible, aiming her punches more towards the head. Due to being quite clunky and large for a Femme, Tireslash often ends up being forced into the role of Tank, blocking attacks and even just hurling herself at the enemy. Her main form of attack is literally just body slamming people.

The main things that she brings to the team are fighting skills, but also her intense amounts of knowledge on Energon and gathering it, as well as conducting raids. Tireslash may be no scientist, but she was required to have a generally good understanding of it in order to do her job, so she knows a lot about how it’s stored, harvested, and how to transport it properly. She will also reveal random skills and knowledge (that make sense in the context of her backstory) which will serve as foreshadowing to her past.

Tireslash’s alt mode is probably gonna be one of those armored trucks that banks use for transporting money. This is quite useful at times, as Tireslash is able to carry various things with her, and this function is used quite frequently throughout the series when it comes to certain smaller items. She also has slightly thicker armor than most, which is very handy in battle and allows her to act as a bit of a shield for others.

Due to having been in many battles over the years, Tireslash does have a few scars, some of which cause her a bit of chronic pain. A particular example of this is one in which she got stabbed in the elbow, and really deep as well. At the time, she didn’t have much access to good medical services, so her old teammates tried to fix it themselves. 

Eventually, by the time she could have been able to have it fixed, it had already mostly healed/become old. So she now has a slightly wonky left elbow that she dislikes moving. Tireslash will still insist on “powering through” the pain, but there have been times where she’s been fighting for multiple hours, and her arm gave out on her. This is why her fellow Autobots occasionally remind her to not fight with that arm for too long, and Ratchet will scold her if she does.

Tireslash’s past does come back to bite her multiple times after the others have found out the truth, like when she discovers that her old second in command and longtime friend, Firewall, has joined the Decepticons. There is a lot of angst there, especially in regards to Tireslash trying to convince her friend to come to the side of good. They actually have an argument in which we learn some of the more unsavory parts of Tireslash’s past, specifically the murder of innocent people. Tireslash was a legitimately bad person, and though she has grown a lot over the thousands of years of war, it doesn’t take away what she’s done.

It even leaves some of the other Autobots feeling conflicted, because sure, they knew that she likely did some pretty bad stuff, but hearing the specifics makes it feel a lot more real.

There’s also some stuff tied to what caused these bots to join this group and become violent criminals. We look a bit into what things like poverty and desperation did to certain bots, and how some got wrapped up in a life like that. While we don’t get to know too much about them, there is a flashback episode in which we get to see the day most of Tireslash’s team dies and she is arrested. In that episode, we get to know a bit about her old team and their legitimately sweet friendships, their hopes and dreams. We see both the kindness and ruthlessness within Tireslash, and how she views things like death and revenge.

Tireslash’s past isn’t her whole character, but it does greatly shape it. I’m hoping to show an extremely nuanced and ~messy~ character who is nonetheless somewhat likable. A character who has a very specific kinda past. A character who has a somewhat sympathetic backstory, but not completely, and has a more unsympathetic backstory than a sympathetic one. A character who has a unique perspective in regards to the Decepticons without ever having been one.

Also, I just generally wanted to create a herbo with a dark past because I’m like that.

Hope you like her decently enough, or find her vaguely interesting. Please tell me what you think. I’m trying to just let myself make fun and silly OCs without caring what others think, but I do hope that people find this character to be potentially compelling. I might make a few more, each more cringy than the last, since I just do that with Transformers. I like big cool robots and I will make big cool robots if it’s the last thing I do.

So, TFP fandom, your thoughts?