#i don’t think he’s done anything wrong?

[1byhwng]

16 with chan pleasee 🫶🏻🫶🏻 make it as angsty as possible hehe

prompt 16 - “we’re done”

member; Chan

The one thing you thought would never happen with Chan happened. You’ve always thought he was a great guy, never capable of doing anything so low.

You were wrong and you hate that you were, you wish it wasn’t true. It’s sad to think about..the amazing caring Chan cheating on you, with your best friend.

you haven’t talked to him about it but it was clear that you were distancing yourself from him. But he didn’t seem to mind.

It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen chris..your own boyfriend. He hasn’t even been replying to your texts at all and when he did he’d send short answers not even a ´love you’ just a ‘ttyl’. He would rarely send any pictures to show how he was doing or called to hear your voice.

You’re sitting on the couch reading when you hear a knock at the door. You set your book down and walk to the door opening it to see Chan there with a bouquet of flowers, all of the flowers were your favorite colors.  “Hey baby” he says walking handing you the bouquet before giving you a short kiss. You just stood there unsure of what to say or do.

you look at the flowers, it was a very pretty arrangement of course but your gut just wouldn’t let you be happy about it. It wouldn’t let you be happy about finally seeing your boyfriend. It wouldn’t let you forget the fact that he cheated on you with your best friend.

You could see the confusion in his eyes as the silence fill the room. “Do you not like them? I can take them back and get different ones.” He says in a hurried manner.

you don’t respond for a moment, your mind running a thousand miles a minute.

You feel tears brim your eyes as you look up at him “you cant just show up to my house…after completely ignoring me for weeks.” Your handd tightening around the bouquet. “Baby..you know I’ve been busy-“ you shove the bouquet back in his hands already having enough of his excuses “busy cheating on me by fucking my best friend?!” You could see the shock in his face “Y/N it’s not like that, I promise you.” He reaches out to you but you move away “I wouldn’t do that to you..”

“but you did, Chris. You did the one thing I didn’t think you would do.”

He stays silent as he sees your state. He could tell you’ve probably already known about it. “please let me explain…I promise it will make sense.” You clench your fist as he speaks. “You don’t have to.” You say taking a breath before speaking again “we’re done”. The look on Chan’s face breaks you but not as much as it broke you when you found out he cheated.

“you’ve got to be joking, Y/N? Please tell me you’re joking.” He says his eyes tearing up. “Please leave Christopher.” You say looking away from him. “Don’t call me that.” He cringes as you say his government name. You shrug and motion to the door trying to hold back any more tears. “I won’t ask again, leave.” You speak in a stern tone.

“Fine.” You watch as he walks to the door. He stops and tosses the bouquet to you. “I still love you..I did something stupid and yes that was my fault but I never stopped caring for you.” he says before leaving.

You look at the flowers scattered across your floor as you cry. You’d never think you’d care that much about him. Before you could curse yourself for confronting him you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

You open your phone to see Felix’s messages the number going up every few seconds. Atleast you knew you had someone to talk to.

A/N - I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted but I tried 😭

[writeriguess]

kirishima x insecure reader where he overhears that she has a huge crush on him please. have a good day!

It was late afternoon at U.A. High, and you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the common room. Your close friend, Mina Ashido, sat beside you, and you hesitated, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your sleeve.

“You’ve been acting strange lately, you know that?” Mina teased, nudging you playfully. “What’s up? You can tell me anything.”

You felt a rush of warmth to your cheeks as you tried to avoid eye contact. Mina was sharp and had probably noticed the way you’d been acting around a certain someone. Your heart pounded every time he was around, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep it a secret.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you whispered, “Okay, okay… promise you won’t tell anyone?”

Mina’s eyes lit up. “Of course! You know I’m good with secrets.”

You swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I have... I have the biggest crush on Kirishima.”

As soon as you said it, you felt like you wanted to curl up into a ball. Admitting it out loud felt like the most vulnerable thing you’d ever done.

“What?!” Mina gasped, clearly trying to suppress a squeal. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “It’s not cute, it’s embarrassing. He’s so confident and amazing, and I’m just… not. He’d never go for someone like me.”

Mina frowned and shook her head. “That’s not true at all! Kirishima isn’t the type to judge people like that. You’re amazing, and he’d be lucky to have you.”

Little did you know, Kirishima was standing just outside the room. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but he was frozen in place, wide-eyed as he overheard the conversation. The words tumbled around in his mind — You liked him? His heart raced at the thought, but he also felt a pang of sadness. You thought you weren’t good enough for him?

He knocked on the door, pretending he hadn’t heard anything, and stepped inside. “Hey, what are you two up to?” he asked casually, flashing his usual bright grin.

You stiffened, feeling like the ground was about to swallow you whole. Did he hear anything?

Mina smirked knowingly but kept quiet, just giving you a reassuring look before standing up. “I think I’ll leave you two to talk,” she said, almost too casually. She shot you a wink and walked out, leaving you alone with Kirishima.

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you tried to keep calm. “H-Hey, Kirishima…”

“Hey,” he said, a little softer than usual. There was something different in his expression — his usual carefree smile was still there, but his eyes seemed more serious. “Can we talk?”

You nodded, unsure of where this was going.

Kirishima took a deep breath, his usual confidence faltering for a moment. “Look, I heard what you were talking about earlier. I wasn’t trying to listen, but... I overheard.”

Your stomach dropped. He knows?

“W-What did you hear?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kirishima stepped closer, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I heard that you like me. And… I also heard that you think you’re not good enough for me, which is just ridiculous.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping you gently.

“You’re amazing,” he continued, his voice steady and sincere. “You’re kind, strong, and always working so hard to improve. I’ve noticed how determined you are, even if you don’t see it in yourself.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked down, overwhelmed by his words. “I just… I didn’t think someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me.”

Kirishima’s expression softened, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Well, you were wrong,” he said softly. “Because I’ve liked you for a while now too. I just… didn’t know how to say it.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “You… like me?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

For the first time, a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

Kirishima shook his head, his smile growing. “No way! I wouldn’t lie about something like this. You’re super cool in your own way, and I really like that about you.”

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. For the first time in a long time, the insecurities that had been weighing you down started to lift, just a little.

“So… what now?” you asked, your voice still soft.

Kirishima grinned and held out his hand to you. “Well, how about we start with dinner? I know this great ramen place we can go to. You up for it?”

You stared at his hand for a moment, your heart racing, before finally taking it, feeling a spark of hope and excitement. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

And as you walked side by side with Kirishima, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you were enough after all.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[warnadudenexttime]

Roman, groaning: UGHHHH!

Virgil:

Roman: I SAID UGHHHHH!

Virgil, taking off his headphones: Okay, Roman, I get it. What do you want?

Roman: Thank you~ Ugh, I’m just so annoyed! Today is Logan’s week to decide movie night!

Virgil: You know we wouldn’t do a weekly rotation for movie nights if you didn’t rig the votes everytime we tried to-

Roman: HE’S PROBABLY GOING TO PICK ANOTHER LAME EDUCATIONAL DOCUMENTARY!

Virgil: I will agree with you on that, they- are… really boring.

Patton: Aw, come on guys! Be nice! If it’s what Logan wants then we all have to watch, it’s his turn!

Virgil, shooting a glare: You fell asleep 5 minutes into the 3 hour movie on parakeets last month!

Patton: RAINFOREST NOISES MAKE ME SLEEPY! I CAN’T HELP IT!

Logan, walking in holding a DVD: Ah, I see you are all “pumped up” as they say, likely for movie night?

Roman, looking up: Uh-

Virgil, looking down: Er-

Patton, mumbling: Please don’t ask me to lie-

Logan, frowning: Well, luckily for you three then, we aren’t watching the ‘Exploring the History of Cryptids in Europe’ documentary I did have planned for this week.

Virgil: Well, now- that one sounds pretty cool-

Logan: We will instead be watching the Disney classic, “Cinderella.”

Patton and Roman: Yay!

Virgil, pointing a finger upwards: I think- we should really revisit that cryptids documentary idea- actually-

Logan, handing out papers to the others: But of course, due to its lack of educational content you all will be completing a worksheet on the movie.

Roman, grabbing the paper with force: A WORKSHEET?! I get you’re a teacher but this is overstepping it don’t you think??

Virgil, reading one of the questions: “Do you foresee the economic collapse of the prince’s kingdom in the future? Argue why or why not in a short answer format?” Wow this is… this sucks.

Patton, staring at the paper: Were we supposed to study for this- I moved out Thomas’ memories of Cinderella to make more room for celebrity crushes-

Logan: Hm? Study? No. You should be filling out these questions as we watch the film, but I suppose afterwards we all can go over the worksheet if you prefer.

Virgil, eyes widening: Share my answers with the whole group? What if my answer is wrong- what if my voice cracks- what if-

Roman, shaking the paper in the air: Why the hell do we have to fill out a worksheet! This is movie night! It’s about having fun!

Logan: Well, you all wanted something “non-educational” and to work around copyright laws, the only way teachers are allowed to show films in that nature is to mandate a worksheet along with it. So. If anything you’ve done this to yourselves.

Virgil:

Patton:

Roman: WHAT COPYRIGHT LAWS?! WE LIVE IN A GAY MAN’S F-CKING HEAD?! JUST LET US WATCH THE MOVIE!

[the-broken-pen]

As another request, maybe the villain and hero are fighting , and the villain notices that the hero reacts suspiciously numb to his attacks. And when he taunts him about it, the hero sisimply says something to the effect of being used to it. And the villain is suspicious by the tone so he follow the hero and find out he’s abused by family . Cue villain saving the hero, comforting him and showering him with the love he never got

The villain should have known something was wrong the first time he hit the hero, and he simply braced, pain flickering along the muscles of his jaw, before hitting back. Face blank, a mask stronger than concrete. As if pain played no part, and it was just the give and return of kinetic energy, and nothing more.

He should have known when he said something so cruel it felt like graveyard dirt upon his tongue, and the hero merely stuttered for half a second, everything within him freezing, before he continued like nothing had happened. Nothing cruel in return, nothing biting in his face. Just–complete nothing.

“You never flinch,” the villain said, and it wasn’t a sudden realization, but it was close. Again, that momentary pause, like the hero had been grabbed and stopped by some otherworldly being on a molecular level. It allowed the villain to catch the next hit the hero threw at them.

“What?”

The hero, to his credit, didn’t sound upset, and in this line of work the villain was especially good at noticing the tiny pieces of that kind of thing. He just sounded confused, maybe.

“When I hit you. You don’t flinch,” the villain clarified. The hero just stared at them.

“You only really flinch if you aren’t used to it,” the hero said finally.

“Used to it?”

“You heard me,” the hero replied, and this time, there was irritation behind his words.

The villain tossed the hero’s fist down, and the hero stumbled back.

“And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I wasn’t aware there was one.”

“Are you intentionally being annoying, or is it just natural for you?”

The hero’s breath shuddered.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry–you–I don’t want an apology,” the villain sputtered. This conversation felt above his pay grade; and he wasn't entirely sure why, either, which irked him, itching under his skin.

“So–” the hero snapped his jaw shut around the rest of the word, and it looked like he was doing everything in his power to stop himself from finishing it.

Before the villain could prod further–about the flinching, or any other confusing aspect of it–the hero blew out a breath, and said, “I’m done here.”

The villain blinked.

“You can’t just decide when a fight is over.”

“Watch me,” the hero said, but his voice didn’t have the heat that usually went along with that phrase.

“You’re a hero, isn’t this kind of your entire job? Finishing fights, not walking away from them?”

“I said, I’m done,” the hero snarled, and it was the first hint of emotion he had shown the entire day, explosive and aimed entirely at the villain. The villain was taken aback for a moment.

The hero turned and left before the villain could even think of a response. He didn’t look over his shoulder.

Of course, the villain followed him home.

The fact that he had been able to at all was something to be worried about.

He watched as the hero entered, shutting the door behind him. Heard the sound of his bag hitting the floor, his jacket being hung up. Normal, quiet little things. Shuffling through the kitchen, making a cup of tea. A quiet conversation with his mother.

The villain was about to leave when he heard the slap.

He was through the door before he realized he was moving, leaving the handle to slam into the wall.

He caught the barest edge of a conversation as he rounded the corner–a curse word, then a vile sort of thing that was somehow worse than anything the villain had managed to say in his entire life–and slotted himself neatly between the hero and his mother.

The villain caught her wrist before it could touch any part of the hero. His grip was too tight to be anything but painful.

The hero’s mother gaped at them.

A bruise was beginning to bloom across the hero’s cheek.

The hero was shaking, slightly, face tense and drawn as he stared at the villain. Like the villain was the unnerving thing in this situation, and the hand his mother still had raised was the normality.

A rage, raw and unfathomable, ravenous within him, descending down so deep into the white hot of fury that it passed anything that had a name, uncurled itself along his bones.

“Touch him again,” the villain seethed, voice shaking with all that feral untamed mess within himself, “and you lose the hand.”

“Villain,” the hero said quietly, and the villain had never heard him so meek.

How long did it take for a person to learn that kind of quiet?

“Villain, leave it.”

The villain didn’t release the hero’s mother’s–no. The woman in front of him wasn’t a mother. She was something twisted, and broken, and cruel, upper lip curled with displeasure. Not that the villain was within her kitchen; but that he had stopped her from hitting her child.

The villain wanted nothing more than to vomit on her spotless white tiles.

Maybe in another life she would have been the kind of person the hero, with his kind heart, would have saved before it got to this point.

Maybe in another life the villain would have let the hero try.

But that was not this life.

And there was a bruise blooming on his hero’s cheek.

“You have no right–”

“Did I not make myself clear?” He said, and it was black and poisonous in the air.

The woman in front of him swallowed, and for the first time, fear flickered across her face.

Good.

“Villain,” the hero said, voice strangled, and the villain turned to look at him.

“She’s hurt you before,” the villain said, and it wasn’t a question. The hero looked at him wide-eyed, and he wondered how many times the hero had walked into a fight with him with pre-existing injuries. Injuries he would pretend later that the villain had given him.

The hero swallowed, hard.

“Yes,” he whispered, and that was all the villain needed. He turned back around.

“The only reason you are alive right now is because I think killing you would upset him,” he informed her, and he watched her face pale. “That, and getting blood out of shoes is a bitch. Isn’t it, hero? See, you wouldn’t know. Nobody’s ever made you bleed, I’d wager, because if they had, you would understand it isn’t the kind of thing you do to someone you love.”

He grinned, feral.

“You’re going to leave,” he continued. “Matter of fact, you’re going to vanish. And you’re going to do it so well that if he wants, he’ll never have to think of you again. The only way you’ll ever see him again will be because he wants it to happen, do you understand me? If you don’t, we’ll make you vanish my way.”

The hero made a choked noise behind him. “I don’t think you’ll like that very much,” the villain confided in a whisper.

He wasn’t sure the woman in front of him was breathing.

“Hero,” he said after a long minute. He was going to leave bruises on her wrist. She was shaking, and it soothed some of the yawning rage within him. “Pack a bag.”

The hero vanished into the halls of the house.

The villain didn’t say anything, just stared at the woman in front of him, as if he looked long enough he would be able to see the rotten core inside of her that had made her this way. Turned her into something violent. Or perhaps, the thing that had been inside her since birth, broken and seething. Inevitable.

He didn’t like to believe people could be born evil.

He would make an exception.

The hero appeared back behind him as silent as a wraith, far faster than the villain had expected, duffel bag in one hand.

He wondered how long the hero had had a bag tucked away, packed and ready to run if it got too bad.

He wondered what the hero considered ‘bad enough’ and his jaw clenched hard enough he could hear the bones creak.

“That all you need?”

The hero nodded, mutely, and the villain finally dropped the woman’s hand. She pulled back, hissing as she rubbed her arm, but she had the sense to not glare at the villain.

He tipped his head towards the door.

“Let’s go,” he said, as gently as he had ever heard himself.

The hero followed him out, and they didn’t say anything until the villain’s apartment door locked behind the both of them.

The villain blew out a shuddering breath.

The hero looked like he wasn’t entirely there, eyes glassy.

“Hero,” he said softly, and the hero’s gaze snapped to his face. He stopped himself from reaching for him, a helpless effort to do something, to fix it. “Can I touch you?”

He made sure it didn’t sound like a demand, because if the hero said no, the villain would die before crossing that line, no matter how much it stung. A moment later, to his relief, the hero gave a jerky nod.

He moved slowly, a gentle palm on the hero’s jaw to tip it up, inspecting the bruise with pursed lips. He brushed away the tear that slipped down the hero’s cheek with his thumb, and left it there.

“It could be worse,” the hero offered quietly.

“The fact that it exists at all is worse enough,” the villain murmured, tipping the hero’s head back down. “I’m so sorry.”

The hero blinked, brow furrowing. “For what?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder. “That it happened. That it has been happening. That I didn’t notice.”

“I’m good at hiding it,” the hero said, like it was supposed to make the villain feel better.

“You shouldn’t have had to learn how to do that at all,” the villain said, and the hero’s lip wobbled.

The hero wavered slightly, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He carried himself like the entirety of his body was an open wound, every second spent breathing a second spent in agony.

The villain couldn’t pretend he knew what this felt like, but he could do his best to soothe it as much as possible.

“Come here,” he said softly, and the hero melted into him, shaking as he tried to cry quietly and failed. He tucked the hero against his chest, and hand coming to curl into the hero’s hair as he let out a desperate keening noise.

He rested his chin on the top of the hero’s head. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “It’s not right now, but it will be, I promise. Even if it takes a while.”

The hero shuddered against him, then nodded, just once.

It wasn’t okay, but it would be.

The villain had promised.

And he never broke a promise.

[carnelianly]

this post contains noncon! please don’t read if that will be upsetting! i would never promote this in real life, and people, men or women, are always unable to consent to any kind of contact while intoxicated!

art is your friend. not your boyfriend. not your dog that you can tug around on a leash like you seem to think you can. he has a girlfriend. he’s madly in love with her. he doesn’t want you. sure, he can acknowledge that you’re pretty and he can tell himself, in the comforts of his own head ‘if i were single, i’d.. definitely go for her’. in another life, maybe he was yours. not in this one.

but he was invited out to the bar by patrick who also invited you and a couple other friends and he doesn’t mind your presence at all. you’re.. you’re nice enough. you may make him a little nervous when you smile like that, but that’s not for him to say. he keeps himself polite but distant in conversation with you.

he drinks a little too much. patrick always suggests shots and what is art supposed to do? say no? look like a pussy?

he downs them anyway, one after another until it’s two hours later and he forgets he’s barely eaten much all day and there’s so much alcohol in his system that he can’t stand up straight.

not to worry, you’re them to catch him before he falls over. patrick and the others are off talking about some nonsense, but you’re being so nice and helpful, you wipe the drool from his chin and fix his hair and he smiles faintly at you in gratitude.

you smile back at him, one arm holding him up since he’s not stable enough to stand on his own, half leaning on the bar counter and half relying on you to keep him up. your other hand is… art isn’t really paying attention. feels weird, though. it’s between his thighs, rubbing the skin softly, almost teasingly. art isn’t coherent enough to understand what’s happening.

you’re smiling at him, telling him everything is gonna be fine, because it will be. everything will be okay. he doesn’t have to worry, you’ll take care of him, keep him safe. there’s so many bad people in this world that might try to hurt him, steal his wallet, take advantage of him. you’re not like that. you’re just gonna keep talking to him like this until it’s time to leave and then you’re gonna take him home. he’s too drunk to get back to his place by himself, so you’ll just let him stay at yours. so gracious of you.

he listens because he has no other choice, and he’s not as much letting you touch him but not able to stop you. your hand is on his crotch, massaging him through his jeans, and he moans and he falls forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s weak. unable to do anything but take this treatment. your hand that was keeping him upright moves to his ass, always so plump and thick, god, he obviously does it for his girlfriend but he might as well have done it for you, in this moment.

you could so easily take what you wanted from him, especially because you’re sure he’s about to black out and remember nothing. but you’re a better person than that, you tell yourself. you’re just touching, you’re not gonna break anything.

you end up taking him into the bathroom, and he’s too drunk to know what he’s doing, but hey, he kissed you first, even if he’s tripping over his own feet and practically drooling into your mouth. it’s hot, and you feel him up some more. it feels wrong to fuck him, too permanent. he’d definitely know what happened then. he’s smart when he’s sober, smart enough anyway.

in the end, he’s taken home with patrick and a couple of buddies, taking a shared uber home while art is blacked out, while you go off by yourself.

the next time you see art, he definitely does not remember what happened that night. he does feel a little weird around you, but he can’t quite put his finger on why your presence is so.. uncomfortable all of a sudden…

[mariacallous]

There was a moment that struck me, and I think it would strike you too: Donald Trump openly praised Viktor Orbán, as he has done repeatedly in the past. But he said, explicitly, Orbán is a good guy because he’s a “strongman,” which is a word that he clearly takes to be a compliment, not derogatory. You’ve written about the strongman fantasy in your Substack, so I’m curious: What do you think Trump is appealing to here?

Well, I’m going to answer it in a slightly different way, and then I’ll go back to the way you mean it. I think he’s tapping into one of his own inner fantasies. I think he looks around the world and he sees that there’s a person like Orbán, who’s taken a constitutional system and climbed out of it and has managed to go from being a normal prime minister to essentially being an extraconstitutional figure. And I think that’s what Trump wants for himself. And then, of course, the next step is a Putin-type figure, where he’s now an unquestioned dictator.

For the rest of us, I think he’s tapping—in a minor key—into inexperience, and that was my strongman piece that you kindly mentioned. Americans don’t really think through what it would mean to have a government without the rule of law and the possibility of throwing the bums out. I think we just haven’t thought that through in all of its banality: the neighbors denouncing you, your kids not having social mobility because you maybe did something wrong, having to be afraid all the damn time. African Americans and some immigrants have a sense of this, but in general, Americans don’t get that. They don’t get what that would be like.

So that’s a minor key. The major key, though, is the 20% or so of Americans who really, I think, authentically do want an authoritarian regime, because they would prefer to identify personally with a leader figure and feel good about it rather than enjoy freedom.

You mentioned the word banality, which makes me think of Hannah Arendt’s theory of the “banality of evil.” What would the banality of authoritarianism look like in America?

So let me first talk about the nonbanality of evil, because our version of evil is something like, and I don’t want to be too mean, but it’s something like this: A giant monster rises out of the ocean and then we get it with our F-16s or F-35s or whatever. That’s our version of evil. It’s corporeal, it’s obviously bad, and it can be defeated by dramatic acts of violence.

And we apply that to figures like Hitler or Stalin, and we think, Okay, what happened with Hitler was that he was suddenly defeated by a war. Of course he was defeated by a war, but he did some dramatic and violent things to come to power, but his coming to power also involved a million banalities. It involved a million assimilations, a million changes of what we think of as normal. And it’s our ability to make things normal and abnormal which is so terrifying. It’s like an animal instinct on our part: We can tell what the power wants us to do, and if we don’t think about it, we then do it. In authoritarian conditions, this means that we realize, Oh, the law doesn’t really apply anymore. That means my neighbor could have denounced me for anything, and so I better denounce my neighbor first. And before you know it, you’re in a completely different society, and the banality here is that instead of just walking down the street thinking about your own stuff, you’re thinking, Wait a minute, which of my neighbors is going to denounce me?

Americans think all the time about getting their kids into the right school. What happens in an authoritarian country is that all of that access to social mobility becomes determined by obedience. And as a parent, suddenly you realize you have to be publicly loyal all the time, because one little black mark against you ruins your child’s future. And that’s the banality right there. In Russia, everybody lives like that, because any little thing you do wrong, and your kid has no chance. They get thrown out of school; they can’t go to university.

We don’t imagine how a regime change is going to be at the dinner table. The regime change is going to be on the sidewalk. It’s going to be in your whole life. It’s not going to be some external thing. It’s not like this strongman is just going to be some bad person in the White House, and then eventually the good guys will come and knock him out. When the regime changes, you change and you adapt, and you look around as everyone else is adapting and you realize, Well, everyone else adapting is a new reality for me, and I’m probably going to have to adapt too. Trump wants to be a strongman. He’s already tried a ​​ coup d’état. He makes it clear that he wants to be a different regime. And so if you vote him in, you’re basically saying, “Okay, strongman, tell me how to adapt.”

Yeah, we could talk about Project 2025 all day. This new effort to bureaucratize tyranny—which was not in place in 2020—could really make the banal aspect a reality because it’s enforced by the administrative state, which is going to be felt by Americans at a quotidian level.

I agree with what you say. If I were in business, I would be terrified of Project 2025 because what it’s going to lead to is favoritism. You’re never going to get approvals for your stuff unless you’re politically close to administration. It’s going to push us toward a more Hungary-like situation, where the president’s pals’ or Jared Kushner’s pals’ companies are going to do fine. But everybody else is going to have to pay bribes. Everyone else is going to have to make friends.

It’s anticompetitive.

Yeah, it’s going to generate a very, very uneven playing field where certain people are going to be favored and become oligarchs. And most of the rest of us are going to have a hard time. Also, the 40,000 [loyalists Trump wants to replace the administrative state with] are going to be completely incompetent. When people stop getting their Social Security checks, they’re going to realize that the federal government—which they’ve been told is so dysfunctional—actually did do some things. It’s going to be chaos. The only way to get anything done is to have a phone number where you can call somebody at someplace in the government and say, “Make my thing a priority.” The chaos of the administration state feeds into the strongman thing. And since that’s true, the strongman view starts to become natural for you because it’s the only way to get anything done.

Timothy Snyder Explains How Americans Might Adapt to Fascism Under Trump

[fushizhuo]

Happier Than Ever

Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesn’t seem to fit in. Her groupmates think she’s distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.

Pairing — NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)

Genre — Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint

Warnings — Mentions of trauma and abuse

WC — 8.6k words

Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, that’s what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanor—it was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.

“She’s so full of herself,” Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. “Yeah, I don’t get why she tries so hard,” Danielle added, her tone frustrated.

“It’s like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.” Haerin hummed. “She probably just wants to be the center of attention,” Minji sighed. “I don’t know. She’s always got this attitude. It’s like she doesn’t care about us.”

What they didn’t know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.

To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasn’t an option. “If you don’t stay at the top, you’re done,” he had told her, his voice harsh. “I’ll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.”

She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Tonight, she had to break free.

Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. “I need to sing a solo.”

“What?” Minji frowned, confused. “We don’t have time for that, Y/N. It’s not part of the plan.”

“I'm sorry, but please.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. “I have to do this.”

The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonight’s show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.

“Fine,” Minji finally said, exasperated. “But this better be quick.”

Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.

She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.

She was going to let everything out.

"When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever…"

Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true…"

Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her father’s cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was her story.

"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influence…"

As the next verse flowed out, Minji’s eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.

"You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath, ‘cause you only listen to your fucking friends…"

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she sang. She could feel her father’s cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.

"I don’t relate to you, I don’t relate to you, no, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city…"

Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasn’t some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.

"And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, ‘cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad…"

The pain in Y/N’s voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.

"So don’t waste the time I don’t have, don’t try to make me feel bad..."

Y/N’s voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasn’t just singing for herself—she was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.

"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but I’d have an empty line, ‘cause you never did…"

Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.

"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut ‘em all out for you ‘cause I was a kid…"

The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.

Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasn’t trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..

just fucking leave me alone!"

By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.

Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.

Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadn’t touched him at all. And in that moment, she knew—he would never change. He would never let her be free.

As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her father’s presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“I’m so sorry,” Minji whispered, holding Y/N’s shaking form. “We didn’t know… We didn’t understand.”

“We should’ve seen it,” Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her father’s eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasn’t over. It wasn’t up to her anymore.

Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.

“What does he want?” Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.

“Y/N…” Minji started, her voice full of concern.

But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowd’s cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.

“Where is she going?” Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didn’t fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.

“No,” Minji said firmly, stepping forward. “She doesn’t have to go with you.”

But Y/N’s father shot them a cold glare. “This is none of your business. She’s my daughter. And she’s done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.”

Danielle’s fists clenched in anger. “You can’t do that to her. She’s not your puppet.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her father’s control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasn’t enough to change that.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.

As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her father’s control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to build—it was all slipping through her fingers.

She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her father’s voice was low and cold as they left the venue. “That’s it. You’re done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, we’ll start making plans for your future. A real future.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She had nothing left to say.

As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.

She was no longer a part of NewJeans.

And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.

[clrasecretdiary]

I think i'll miss you forever | Spencer reid x Reader (Blurb)

Content: If the argument between Spencer and jj after emily's return was with reader. Angst

word-count: 244 words (really short one).

Warning: Mention of spencer relapsing (doesn't actualy happen)

----

You had lied to his face, comforted him when he cried for his dead friend and now, as the grand-ending to this shit show you might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to you - Spencer's friendship. 

“What if I started taking dilaudid again? Would you have cared then?” Spencer said, heartbroken and cruel. 

You hated yourself for lying to him but it had to be done and you’ll just have to live with the consequences. 

“Spencer, that's not fair. You know i would, you know i care for you above anything else.” You say, almost crying but holding back your tears. 

“Do i? Because i thought i knew you would never lie to me, i thought i knew one of my fucking bestfriends was dead but aparently i was wrong. I honestly don’t think i know anything right now.”  He says, trying really hard not to scream at you,  his anger making him feverish. He was clearly heartbroken and you didn't know what to do. 

“I’m so sorry Spencer, I wish I didn't get involved but they needed my help with the documents, i wish I had not lied to you but I had to. All I can do is say i’m sorry”  

“Well, maybe sorry is not enough this time.’ He says, storming out of the room. 

As soon as he exited you started sobbing, you regret everything  and you’re terrified that Spencer might never forgive you after this.

[1roentgen]

.

[alluralater]

hey everyone, i won’t be as active for a while. got home last night super late after being on the road for 20 some odd hours. dealing with some family things and as an older sister, my priority of taking care of my siblings comes first before anything else. being on here is amazing for me but i don’t think i’ll have much time for it. reminder to please treat those in your life who are battling addiction with patience and care. i lost my older brother (sweetest person i’ve ever known and he remained that way up until his last night) to suicide and alcoholism, trauma and ptsd, depression and his feelings of hopelessness. talk with the people you care about. another of my siblings is dealing with the same and i refuse to let it escalate to such a terrifying end twice in less than a fucking year. remind the people you care about that there are beautiful things to live for. show them kindness and love. there is all kinds of misinformation out there but know this, you can make a difference for someone. don’t let them suffer in silence.

[magical-misfit]

Thinking about that one post that was like “Gerard wants to stay in the castle when war comes because he spent his formative years struggling to stay alive and survive and now he’s expected to do it again”

Like…yes you get it.

Gerard was ten.

And at ten years old he knew death better than others. He watched his first friend get eaten alive as part of the food chain at work, he nearly died at the teeth of a dog because he didn’t understand why it was weird for a talking frog to address a guard like a prince. A ten year old experienced near death for the first time and people still have the audacity to call him a coward.

He stayed in that pond for god knows how long (he states he’s thirty but we don’t know how long he and Elody have been married) and he waited for ages for someone to come find him, anyone really. That heron probably came by every day, same with the hunters and their dogs. How much death and injury did you think Gerard saw over those years in the pond? How much bravery and cleverness do you think he had to muster up in himself so as not to get eaten? No wonder he latched onto Elody and the castle life so quickly.

And when war comes at a time when he’s supposed to be free, a time when the curse has been broken and everything is fine, of course he flees. Of course he claims they can stay in their castle and be okay.

Because Gerard knows death. And he knows that if he leaves the castle again, he’s not sure he’ll make it back this time.

And he’s right. He doesn’t.

(At least that version of him anyway)

[tianshiisdead]

Japan shaves just about everything. He doesn't think more hair=more manly. He infact has a whole different idea of what is manly compared to western countries or most countries in general. He also likes flowers and floral patterns.

everything?!

[danidoesathing]

am i the only one who feels like alex(the world ender guy) was kind of a missed oportunity in vide noir? like, he was set up by johnnie to be a badass gang leader just for him to never even appear in the end, we just got a close up to his face scar

i feel like buck's encounter with the psychic would've been way more powerful if it was alex instead. its implied that johnnie and moonbeam had a relationship ig, but its barely even hinted at, and he never even mentions her. but with johnnie and alex, johnnie actually mentions him and speaks highly of his brother, and says alex will help buck if he sees the red cloth that belonged to johnnie

the fact that all that build up led to buck not even TALKING to alex kinda irks me. imagine how much better the payoff would be if alex had received the cloth instead of moonbeam? if we had seen his reaction to johnnie's death? if he would've helped buck like johnnie said he would? if we saw what johnnie implied alex would do to the guys who black brained his brother? idk man i think we were robbed

im new to the fanbase, so im gonna be very embarassed if this is a topic that already came up here LOLL but i still wanted to get it off my chest💀sry if this ask is messy, i suck at writing down my thoughts lmao

No I gotta agree on that. Like I LOVED seeing Moonbeam and getting know her as her and having all this new information about her (her being part of the World Enders is still wild to me and I love it) and it’s a good scene and all, but I’m still confused as to why they built up Alex so much, especially since this is the first time we’re hearing about him, and he never even got the chance to speak. If it were Dale I’d be a bit more understanding as we know him already (tho not by much cause I would have loved to see more of Dale). But it’s Alex, whose not only the leader of the World Enders but also Johnnie’s (and Dale’s) brother. I would’ve have loved to, you know, actually meet the guy. Especially with how much build up he got. And I GET IT Lord Huron’s lore is meant to be weird and vague and hard to pin down but like. Didn’t need to tease me like that come on

The only reason I could think of was maybe they needed to get Buck on his own again? Like having this the beginning of a war between the World Enders and Z’Oieasu shown or having Buck work with them consistently might have thrown off the tone. It is supposed to be Buck’s story and his own descent into madness. The whole album has this isolated vibe to me, like being alone in a city of people Hard to get that when there’s other people around, especially a group as lively as the world enders. Or maybe they just wanted to include Moonbeam back into the story again lol

GOD I would have loved to see Moonbeam’s scene with Buck done with Alex. I can only imagine how that scene would’ve played out and his reaction to Johnnie’s death. Contrasting Buck’s scene with Johnnie with Alex’s own personality, the possible dynamics, the anger and grief that could arise…..ough

[thattargboy]

What’s your perspective on the fight at Driftmark?

Short answer: I don’t blame Aemond (or. I blame him a little because disrespect, but the kid lost an eye so he gets sympathy points), I especially don’t blame Rhaena or Baela, they did nothing wrong 🥰. I kinda blame Luke and Jace because they were the ones with the knife, but mostly their parents because why was no one watching these kids???? Should there not have been a guard outside their rooms or something????

Very long and repetitive answer: I understand that as soon as Laena died Vhagar was a free dragon, and “technically” Rhaena had no claim over her. That doesn’t change the fact that she was an eight year old girl who has just lost her mother (who had ordered that dragon to kill her and that definitely factors in), so I understand why she felt entitled to try to claim her and why she hadn’t attempted it yet.

So yeah needless to say, claiming Vhagar during the night of the funeral was very disrespectful on Aemond’s part. Does it make sense why he did it? Absolutely. He was like 10 (?12?) being bullied by his big brother and his nephews and he wanted to prove himself by claiming the oldest and biggest dragon in the world because It Be Like That, and yeah he was technically right in like that Rhaena “should have” tried to claim Vhagar. But like I said. Eight year old girl at her mom’s funeral. And also Rhaena understands what it feels like to feel inadequate over lacking a dragon so really Aemond what’s your play?

Also we have no idea that Vhagar would have even accepted Rhaena if she did try to claim her, but honestly I think she would have. No real reason there other than vibes so feel free to disagree.

Ultimately, Baela, Rhaena, Luke and Jace should have gone to guards or their parents if they thought something was going on with Vhagar but then again they were kids so I don’t blame for not doing so, and I think we all have taken something into our own hands when we kids that we should have went to adults for (I do however blame their parents for not having anyone watching them and instead banging on the beach at his wife’s funeral). But like. They weren’t being watched and they took things into their own hands, like kids do, and they reacted very emotionally and got into a fight (and no, 4v1 is not fair, but also they are all like 12 and under. I know y’all have seen playground fights like that in your youth. If they were older I’d be like oh yeah fuck all four of them), like kids do.

And honestly if Aemond didn’t lose an eye I probably would just be like “haha little shit got what he deserves,” because like. Not to sound like Bobby B here cuz fuck that guy but. Kids fight. It’s a thing they do because like emotional regulation is undeveloped and all over the place. It’s over. (Thinking about it because that scene was an obvious parallel to the one in GoT, making that comparison with Cersei and Alicent is both genius and fills me with rage)

But to get back on track, Aemond did lose an eye, and y’know permanent mutilation and a scuffle between cousins (and uncle/nephews) are two very different things.

Jace never should have brought the knife and honestly for once I can’t really see the kid logic there. I guess I can compare it to like being a kid and thinking you hear a burglar and instead of waking up your parents you grab a bat (okay now I’m seeing the kid logic, Jace you’re free to go. Still why did he even have a dagger in the first place kid’s like 9???)

And then there’s Luke, who I’m giving some leniency because he’s the youngest, but again even a 7 year old knows better then to cut a boy’s eye out.

Like yeah from his perspective Aemond was about to brain his brother with a rock so yeah I kinda get it. But us as viewers are not 7 year olds in the middle of a fight, and we could see that Aemond was not moving, and really Luke should have been able to see that too but also, need I say it again? A kid in the middle of a fight. I honestly kinda thought it looked like Aemond was gonna put it down but no one else seems to think that so I’m just gonna assume I’m wrong

Ultimately what I think the problem was no one was punished. Back to sounding like Bobby B because obviously none of the kids should have tortured (or sharply questioned) or lost an eye as compensation (really girlie, charging with his knife is iconic but very stupid). But to bring it back to the playground thing, if that was fight in an elementary school all of those kids would have been getting in trouble.

Instead Viserys threatened his wife and children over the truth. So. Yeah. Fuck all the adults in that situation.

(Also I do understand and sympathize with both Alicent and Rhaenyra in that scene. Alicent’s son has been made permanently disabled and no one is on her side not even the child’s father, it makes sense that she kinda snapped, and yes even though it is the truth, calling her children bastards puts their lives and their inheritance in danger, of course they’re both going to try and protect their children it’s what mothers do. Understandable and sympathetic, and even justifiable doesn’t mean they were exactly in the right however.)

Westeros needs some sort of man price, at the very least Luke should have been made to apologize (and then apologize again when he’s older and actually means it instead of laughing at the pig) and in a world where we got more episodes and they emphasized that this is a family we’re watching tear itself apart I would have liked to seen Aemond at least try to put water under the bridge with Rhaena and only Rhaena (and maybe Baela but she wasn’t really involved) when they’re older.

(Like maybe if we got to see Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, and Rhaenyra’s family was invited. That could’ve been cool.)

All that said (and sorry for saying so much), the way everything played out makes sense and I wouldn’t change it except like I said with like older Aemond and Rhaena attempting to make amends before shit hits the fan.

[allofuswantgwinam]

my mom literally wants to be clueless and im so sick of hearing her say that

[daenerysstormreborn]

I’ve seen a post recently that dismisses Lyanna’s age as GRRM being bad with picking the ages of women, basically saying nooooo it’s fine she was 15/16 and Rhaegar was in his early 20s it’s just George not thinking it through enough but I really disagree. George wrote “It was her fourteenth nameday” on purpose he knew what he was doing with that I think we are supposed to be critical of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Rhaegar is boring if you’re not critical of him. Most characters are boring if you’re not critical of them. I could theoretically come up with arguments defending many the actions of my favs as perfectly just but that is so boring. Like. Yes the protagonists are Always In The Right don’t you get bored of that? Isn’t that tiring? Isn’t it better to have a protagonist who makes mistakes? Some of you are like “we do acknowledge xyz character’s faults we do!! we only get mad about the unfair criticisms!!” and then I never see any discussion of said faults. I get that people can have a knee jerk reaction because some criticism of certain characters I see IS unfair and sexist so it’s hard not to develop a knee jerk response to it but I prommy it’s more interesting to say “well what if this wasn’t a writing oversight and the character was actually in the wrong?” Because we are all in the wrong sometimes and acting like a character has never done anything wrong makes them unrelatable and boring.

Except for Samwell Tarly I think he actually never did anything wrong.