#i think playing with dolls so much and playing pretend as often as we did also rly contributed to developing imagination n storytelling ski

[inkykeiji]

I think I remember you mentioning how you are a college student and I’m curious what major are you taking? Everything you write is so well written that I imagine you would at the very least be minoring in literature.

Also I hope you have an amazing day Clari ❤️❤️

hi hi!! <33 i’m not a student, actually!! i graduated university a few years ago hehe c: i specialized in film (so a specialist is one notch above a major) and i minored in english literature, yes! waaaah thank you so much for such kind words anon bb, they mean so much to me, genuinely (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ i definitely do think studying film (+ being in the screenwriting program within the film program at my uni) and studying literature absolutely sharpened my writing skills (i did a lot of genre, character, and narrative work) and helped me become a better writer. i’ve also been writing silly lil stories for fun since i was baaaby baby,, like five years old HAHA so i have had a lot of practice (*ﾉωﾉ)

[shojimezolovemail]

hi! jjk men tearing up when yn kisses their forehead 🤭

A/N: thank you so much for the request!!! if you don't see your fave, feel free to send another ask! request open :-)

A/N pt 2: sorry that some of these are longer than others, i promise i love all these men :”)

warnings: allusion to canon level violence, pet names (sugar, doll, darling & honey), other than that mainly fluff! let me know if i missed anything ^_^

characters included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, & choso kamo

✰ satoru gojo ✰

A particularly difficult mission was left to the past of the last few hours but it was one Gojo couldn’t shake off of himself. It was one where both of your lives were nearly compromised and that alone was enough to churn his stomach.

“Satoru?” your voice called, breaking him away from a spiral within his mind. “Look at me, honey, please?” Your tone almost desperate as you took in his slumped posture against the seat he was in, legs pressed together as if he were folding himself up.

You got closer to Gojo, standing in front of him and using a hand to cup his face. The gentle touch was enough to begin soothing his racing mind. A sweet kiss pressed to his forehead then to the crown of his head.

Tears pooled along his waterline, breaching containment as they rolled down his cheeks.

As he always kissed away your tears, you returned the favor and pressed a few over where they would begin to stain against his skin.

✰ suguru geto ✰

For so long Geto believed that anything that could go bad would inevitably happen to him. He was spiraling down such a deep, dark depth of his mind until a strong force of light forced itself into to his life. You.

He felt as if divine timing had to play a part in uniting you two but you had other ideas of it.

“We were simply meant to be. Call it fate, or divine timing, whatever you’d like, Sugu,” you’d look over from where you stood in front of the stove, smiling at him and melting his heart.

“You really won’t settle on my divine timing theory?” He asked as he began closing the physical distance between you two.

“I think it’s more fun to pretend that there’s little red strings wrapped around our fingers and that’s what brought us together,” you tried to sound serious but couldn’t help the laugh in your voice at the theory that you spoke of.

Your laughter like the first inkling of spring after a hard winter to Geto, welcoming him into your warmth as it was all consuming. He was a sucker for everything about you though, in truth.

A small smile fell upon his lips, “You’re ridiculous. A red string tying us together? I think that’s a new one.”

You stood on your tip toes to press a quick kiss to his forehead, “You heard me, sugar. Do you mind grabbing the girls for me? I’ll plate up lunch right now.”

Geto stood still for a moment, warmth radiating throughout his body as he processed what you had done. Something within him stirring when he turned to leave the kitchen. His throat tightening at the act of intimacy.

Eyes welling up with tears and a quick cough to cover up the hiccups that followed him beginning to get emotional.

✰ kento nanami ✰

Rarely did you wake up earlier than Nanami but when you did, you tried to make the most of the time you had before he would wake up. He so often spent the hours of the night finishing up paperwork or lulling you to sleep because he had a habit of prioritizing your health over his.

While of course, that was sweet you knew eventually it would catch up and impact his life so when he’d stay up late and sleep in, it was almost a cause for celebration on your end.

You hatched a plan to make breakfast for him as he often would for you when he woke up before you. Nanami slept soundly as you slid out of the bed, careful to leave him with the warmth of the blanket you two shared and little noise as you departed the bedroom.

Soft hums falling past your lips as you gathered all your ingredients, tapping your foot as you awaited for the toast to pop up while you began the eggs.

Truthfully, you weren’t paying much attention to the clock so when you glanced up to see your lover standing in a half-open robe with his chest on display as he leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

A gasp of surprise leaving your lips, “Good morning honey,” you said with a flushed smile.

“Good morning darling,” he moved to get closer to you but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Ah ah - take a seat at the table, the food’s almost done,” you pointed a spatula toward him, earning a chuckle from his lips.

Nanami took a seat at the small dining table, watching as you moved around the kitchen and finally plated the breakfast you had prepared.

You poured a glass of water and presented the food to Nanami, his hands coming to rest on your hips. A sleepy smile on his lips as he looked up at you.

“Why didn’t you wake me up to help you, darling?” he questioned, thumbs rubbing over your hips through your pajama pants.

One of your hands came to cup his cheeks, “You looked so peaceful, Ken. I didn’t want to disturb you, my love.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, wrapping an arms around his shoulders.

Nanami couldn’t help the warmth that spread all over his body, eyes beginning to burn with tears.

“You’re too good to me, my darling.”

You press another kiss to his cheek now, “I treat you to what you deserve, Kento.”

✰ toji fushiguro ✰

It was another night of patching him up after a particularly bad job he had taken on. The only sound in the bathroom the ripping of gauze and a weak fan that pulled the fumes of rubbing alcohol away from the two of you.

You didn’t bother scolding him now, he knew you were upset but the state he came home in was too bad for you to think of anything else but stopping the blood staining his clothes.

Toji watched you gently clean his wounds, hisses falling past his scarred lips with quick muttered “Sorry, sorry!” from you every time he made noises of discomfort.

He clenched his fist together, the burning of the alcohol never got any easier but one would think that someone of his caliber would not react to something like wounds being treated.

“Doll, would ya look at me?” he questioned with his normally unfriendly tone, quickly adding a “please?” to possibly convince you any further to give him attention.

You met his eyes for the first time since he had come home, worry and fear brimming your waterline.

A kiss to his forehead all you could give, it was quick and sweet. A way of rationalizing that he was in fact right in front of you.

Toji didn’t know what came over him but his throat felt as if it were closing up. One of his hands shot up to grab it, confusion weighing on his brows.

“You okay, Toji? Something hurt?”

He blinked twice then met your eyes again, a small smile on his lips.

“Hm? Yeah, ‘m good, doll. Don’t worry. Just thought about how much I love ya s’all,” he spoke nonchalantly as if his own heart beat wasn’t beating like a drum in his chest.

✰ choso kamo ✰

The love that existed within Choso was overwhelming and all consuming. He was so hopelessly in love with you. Everything you had shown him about being human amazed him and left him hungry for more.

He wasn’t entirely clueless but there were things that he needed coaching on such as kissing or when its appropriate to express love to one another in public. Not to imply you didn’t love when he showed you affection but there was certain things strangers shouldn’t be subjected to.

When he got a better understanding of kissing, he was obsessed with it. Any chance he got, he was pressing a little one to your lips, cheeks or any part of you he could get his hands on.

Choso lived so long only expressing his love to his brothers but now that he had other people to express it towards, he was hooked.

For a while his love and devotion was used as a weapon against himself and others around him, of course not through his full understanding of the situations he was put into.

You two were interlocked in your bed, limbs tangled under a mountain of blankets on a particularly cold night. Would either of you bother to close the cracked window though? Not a chance.

Choso had his head rested against your chest, listening to the thumping of your heartbeat as he often said it soothed his mind. Your body stirred under him, his dark eyebrows furrowing to look up at you - his eyes full of question.

“I’m gonna go grab a snack from the kitchen, you want somethin’?” you questioned as you ran a hand through his hair and began to scoot out from under his head.

He blinked up at you before shaking his head, “I think I’m okay. Thank you though. Love you,” he smiled.

You leaned over the side of the bed he was against now, a kiss presented to his forehead before you disappeared out of the room.

Choso’s pale skin immediately flushed a pink hue, a grin forming on his lips and some tears rolling down his face.

A wet laugh to himself, wiping his fallen tears away before you’d return.

[writing-for-life]

Ok, I’m not going to get involved in a certain thread because I don’t want any drama and the line of argumentation leans too much to one side already (the views of the vocal majority in this fandom) for it to make much sense to contribute, but I had a few thoughts today:

In a fandom where people write AUs full of cows and merpeople and other shenanigans that have nothing to do with canon (or the actual characters, to be frank), they can’t do that for Calliope (or any other female character, for that matter)?

She doesn’t get to play in the sandbox?

We don’t have the imagination to turn her into one of the two dolls that kiss?

We have to keep her in character while everyone else can be turned into… whatever person (certainly neither the one of the comics nor the show)?

We constantly have to remember her strife and trauma and can’t invent (!, that’s what writing is about!) a different or new side to her? Or a better future? One in which she gets to be happy?

Or we can’t turn her into someone she canonically isn’t?

While all of this always, always works for Dream? Or the hairy guy?

And speaking of said guy: Do we have any reason to think Dream would treat him better than Nada? We’re automatically assuming he’d do the same thing to Calliope, but not to him? Or: Why do we assume he would do what he did to Nada to any other love interest, because canonically, there’s no evidence for that (we wrote about this on here before)? So no, that line of argument just doesn’t fly in my view.

If Calliope and Dream have chemistry and people are able to acknowledge it (which most do), that on its own is enough to ship them. The chemistry argument works with every M/M ship. Why doesn’t it work with her?

Oh, she is allowed in gen fics (and I am a fan of those btw, but that’s past the point), or as a character with very little agency, or any personal or sexual desires. Even better if she serves the ship. That’s okay of course, I forgot. Reminds me of most of the women of the Sandman—I wonder why.

I just wish people would give the honest reason without going through all the mental gymnastics of why Dreamuse is not an interesting (or even bad or problematic) ship, and the other one is the best invention since sliced bread:

They want to see/imagine two guys together.

There, I said it, it wasn’t hard. It’s really as simple as that in fandom, it’s a predictable fantasy, and it’s the same in every fandom. The Sandman isn’t any different.

M/F ships are frowned upon because they’re “heteronormative”, and yet, (mostly) women proceed to project (mostly) heteronormative relationship dynamics on two guys of which they fancy at least one and use the other to project themselves on. Sometimes, they fancy both of them and get more of what they have the hots for. Good for them, there’s nothing wrong with it. We have oodles of research by now why some women prefer M/M porn; it’s not earth-shattering, groundbreaking or “queer-positive” (it sometimes fetishises homosexuality though, but that’s a different topic). It’s been like that since at least the times of Spirk, and probably longer. It’s actually a fairly (dare I utter the word on here?) straight female sexual fantasy. The queer-positivity everyone is so enamoured with is more than, and not singularly limited to, shipping M/M—as a bisexual woman, I personally can’t identify with that line of thinking at all, but other people’s mileage might vary…

If people are into smutty/explicit fanfic , that’s just how it works: Some women project on a female body while imagining to get railed by a guy, others prefer to imagine two guys because they fancy men. Again: Nothing wrong with it, but it’s also not as deep as people often pretend it is.

Yes, I wrote about that one before as well. That’s why I can do it again—“once your reputation is ruined” and all that 🤣

It’s ok to be horny for two guys without turning it into a brain-contorting statement every time.

It’s also okay to reflect on the wider implications of completely erasing women from EVERY fandom, especially if you identify as one.

Edited on May 27 since it’s obviously necessary:

If people’s main takeaway from this post is that it’s about criticising fetishising homosexuality, they clearly have a reading comprehension problem and should read it again. “Sometimes” doesn’t mean “always”, plus it wasn’t even a main point. I even said that fancying m/m is a fairly middle-of-the-road-fantasy, and that there’s nothing wrong with it. The internalised misogyny that shows in people who think they are “saving women from men” by completely erasing them from the narrative and only centering men is a different topic, but these two things aren’t the same.

If people’s main response to this post is, “Then write your own stuff,” they also have a reading comprehension problem and did not get at all what this is about. It’s also the slightly old getting standard response to anything that invites critical thinking, but that one isn’t all that surprising anymore. The assumption people aren’t writing their own stuff is also a bit… silly? But I imagine that misconception is down to the fact that those people never check any tags beyond one or two, and certainly never any that involve female characters. [And to say it quite frankly: That some people wrote verbatim, “If you want Dream and Calliope to fuck so badly, write it yourself,” just shows me that they’re incapable of viewing anything but through a sex/smut lens. Good for you, kids, your world sounds so exciting *slow clap*. But maybe don’t project your thirst on everyone else.]

Some people in the OP this was about even made good points, and I didn’t criticise any of those because they are true.

This post is about the double standards people apply when they say why one ship (m/m) is more successful than the other (m/f):

Trauma? Never a problem when it’s Dream.

Relationship that somehow “shouldn’t work”? Never a problem in tropes like enemies to lovers and many others that are totally used for thee ship. Or with two people (read: men) they really want to see together.

Bending a character beyond recognition or giving them a totally different backstory, because that would solve the “relationship has run its course”-issue? Never a problem with the two guys who can be anything from a cow to a mafia boss. But the women? Nope, we have to remember their trauma and strife, keep them exactly as in the source material and protect their sacredness by completely ignoring them.

Still don’t get that this is not about a ship per se but the erasure of all women from stories bar being cheerleaders for thee m/m ship in some way? Okay, then that one’s really beyond anything I can explain, although I think some people just like to consciously misrepresent stuff or really don’t do anything but skim-read. That’s not on me I guess…

[missholloween]

4, 10, and/ or 28 for Wilbur Cross with the headcanon game?

4. Voice

We all know and love his uncle Wiley voice, which is mostly used for their lords' more entrepreneurial ventures (tickle me wiggly, watcher's world). He knows how to fit their brand, often associated with products for kids and the lords themselves presenting their most fwendy face. He fits their brand so much he even takes expressions and mannerism from them. Wiggly finds it amusing when Wilbur imitates his brothers, but he isn't so fond of seeing his on their disciple. That's why Wilbur also uses other inspirations, such as the cartoons he used to watch as a child. His memories aren't always crisp, provoking more uncanny effects that he wants to.

Talking about Wilbur himself, I do think his voice changed when he went through the portal. Even if he had a protection suit like Howie had in Black Friday, I don't think it was refined enough to protect him, even less if they were in the black and white for an extended period of time. Everyone who knew him before the portal says something changed, but none of them agree on what: some think his voice got deeper, while others think it is something about the pitch. John only knows it got colder than it was. Everyone agrees however that there's something uncanny about it, something wrong, even if it's their first time talking with Wilbur.

10. Posture/physical movement

There is something Wrong with how Wilbur moves. It is close to the movement of a puppet: if you see it just passing by and without paying it much attention it seems fine. But if you look closer, you'll see that the arms and the legs aren't really moving at the same time, or that the chest is slightly too inflated when he's inhaling. Wilbur lost part of his corporality in the Black and White, and pretending to be human and have a normal body required an effort they don't usually put into.

Their movements are also really fluid, slightly more fluid that they should be. Their whole body moves as one whole, even if it's the smallest gesture. This provokes that, when he stops and has to stay still, he is in really odd postures. Think water in a weirdly-shaped recipient, or a doll thrown by a kid.

28. Interactions with their lover

Much to their chagrin, they always meet on the field. It's always during an apotheosis, Wilbur is helping the lords with their designs while John is trying to stop them. Wilbur really enjoys their brief time together, toying with John and seeing how he reacts in the different timelines. I think Wilbur has given speeches to John about their intentions like they did to Howie in Black Friday, sometimes trying to make him understand it, others just having fun with MacNamara. I like to think Wilbur often plays a key role in neutralizing John, being the reason he is infected in The Guy (shoutout to The Colour Green, fic that introduced me to the concept and I've integrated to my headcanons).

In the Black Friday timeline things are different, as John is also part of the Black and White. I like to think that when wwiii is started, and Wiggly is probably gets out as his kingdom has come, John and Wilbur can have a real talk. John wouldn't want to talk to them, but I think Wilbur would. They would want John to know the lords as he does, to work with him one last time. Wilbur would be as sweet as they're able to, he would be excited to guide John through his world. But they also know John would never accept. That doesn't stop Wilbur from trying though

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Thanks for your response. I was the anon who ended the ask with 'the fandom can suck it'. When I saw that anon who you and twinanimatronics had assumed to be the one that keeps you know starting shit with you, I really hated that they labeled us as shipbrain or whatever they said. I am aroace who finds comfort in shipping characters and that doesn't make me any less aroace. Can't people like them just let us have this, let us share it and stop taping our mouths? God. We are not even hurting anyone. I posted a solarxmoon and solarxearth mini comic thing yesterday and behold, I believe that same anon found it and is looking adamantly through the solarxmoon and even solarxearth because I didn't use the tsams tag for my comic. I took the comic down fast and turned off anon messages so quick because God that anon was quick to leave nasty messages, six in total and that was panic attack inducing. I'm sorry for rambling about this. I don't know anyone else who got that same anon on their back. It looks like they are persistent for lack of better term and it annoys me+scares me. Can't even share things I like about here anymore. Hoping solarxmoon becomes canon so that anon can shut up already

If Solar Moon became canon, they don't even need to change anything.

The actors don't even need to pretend to kiss or be romanically involved at all.

It's literally as simple as "Oh yeah, we were dating for months, anyway..."

OH AND... FUCK THAT ANON. I know the user you are talking about, I think there's around two or three of them... and it seems like they're dead set on hunting down people who use that Solarmoon or Solar x Moon tag.

Going into popular users in the tsams fandom that I personally don't know... and spreading bad lies and rumors about me.

Like, they typically try to keep it as vague as possible, like "oh I am not talking about dana-chan-the-control-brain specifically....." but they often steal the exact wording and turn of phrase I use.

Cause I have an overly wordy way of talking on the internet.

I've always been this way since I was 15, so I feel my style of speaking is pretty overly wordy, rambly and long compared to most people just because I don't have a lot to share with my opinions with in real life. And I also misspell things a lot cus spellcheck has gotten worse since it became AI trained and it doesn't help my dyslexia.

But how sad is that? That someone is searching out the tag for a ship that they don't like, claim that "it's everywhere" and I'm "poisoning the fanbase" when I'm just.... here... playing with my own dolls, doing my own thing.... and not bothering anyone... Not even putting the ship in the tags publicly because I have Such respect and love for the silly little youtube show, who also plays with fnaf characters like they're dolls.

(just saying.. "bio-organic" and interdimensional travel did NOT come from fnaf I can tell you that much. )

And yeah, if they're really stumbling across Solarmoon or these ships on accident.......Blacklist the tags and move on? Don't come to my messages... Don't harass my friends...

And don't harass other people I DON'T EVEN KNOW because someone just said "hehe but what if they kissed" on the internet?

Like blocklist the tag, and move on.

I know the blocklisting tagging system sucks sometimes, so maybe it's picking up "Solar" like in that case? Just scroll super fast and don't look at it?

And yeah. You don't deserve those nasty messages sent your way at all!

Oh, and if you feel brave enough to reupload your art to tumblr and DM me, I will gladly reblog it here. <3

[mono-red-menace]

sorry just thinking about how often growing up i'd do things and be so full of shame and try to hide them and not know why im hiding it

like listening to britney spears or watching "girl" shows or playing with my sister's dolls or playing my sister's dating games or like all of that stuff.

like. i mean it's not necessarily that i didn't know why i was hiding it, but like. not knowing why i couldn't stop myself from loving them? yk?

like why did i feel so drawn to do "girl" things? even through the shame? even though i had to hide it? even though i'd risk getting caught?

why did i feel like i Had to do it?

why was i so drawn to the books targeted towards little girls that were my age?

why did boy things not really interest me?

i spent so much of my time growing up doing things boys were "supposed" to like to do, pretending i enjoyed them, to cover my shame, which was that the things i enjoyed the most were things that boys Weren't supposed to enjoy.

i liked playing with my sister's dolls and i liked my sister's games and i liked my sister's shows and i liked my sister's music and i liked girl things and i hated guy things and i didn't even realise i felt like this until i was reading if i was your girl lately and i was reading about the character and thinking about how she's kinda a stereotypical trans girl and then. i realised.

like uh

the barrier over my childhood broke down. and i realised how my childhood was balancing the shame of my girliness with the facade of boyishness.

and how for literally my entire life i was a stereotypical little girl. i was girlier than my sister. i liked girl things more than her and liked boy things less. i liked playing with her bratz dolls and playing her dating game more than she did.

but i wasnt Allowed. yk?

and like this wall is just Open now yk?

and im remembering in whipping girl how julia serano talks about how things like this are somewhere between nature and nurture

bc like if it was entirely nature. then why would we have girly boys and boyish girls?

and if it was entirely nurture, then why do the girly boys and boyish girls persist Through societal pressure against them?

shouldnt the pressure drive them away from that?

and maybe its because the only people i felt safe around and loved by in my life were women, yk.

and its fully 100% nurture and i just didnt have a man i felt safe around. so i naturally developed into a girlier boy,

but also like maybe there Is some nature to it. maybe im just naturally empathetic and sensitive and artistic and all of those things, and maybe those natural qualities in me lead me toward "girl" things, even though im not supposed to like them, yk?

idk.

[who-owl-shares]

Go to Wonderland, Alice

"Curiouser and curiouser!"

Alice in Wonderland has to be one of my favorite stories out there, it's safe to say that I've managed to consume every type of media it has been adapted to. From printed books to the fantastical movies/cartoons and games it has been featured in.

But after listening to Neville Goddard, it changed my view on the story.

I've always saw myself in Alice, a little girl who's imagination knows no bounds. So limitless that my imagination became my reality. When I was younger I loved reading books and playing with my dolls, I never really saw that line between reality and my imagination because they were in fact, one.

The line was never there, it wasn't blurry or jagged, it just never existed. I didn't need to close my eyes to dream up these realities I've created, I simply believed.

"Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

My imagination has always been wild ever since and it has become useful now as I grew. I often tell my friends who knew about the Law to "Just assume it." They would frequently come to me for advice and I always answer them the same thing.

I've managed to get out from horrendous situations by using my imagination. That's why I always find the confidence to answer my friends worries when they feel they're out of control because I have went through the same phase before becoming a conscious creator.

It's a good practice to start imagining yourself being wealthy when you're still poor, to be smart when you think you're dumb, to be faithful but feel hopeless and to be beautiful if you feel ugly.

"Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!"

Throughout my manifestation journey, I realized that there is an aspect that most people in the community doesn't discuss enough. You lose you're sense of self in the process.

Everything thought was true, everything I have learned was just flushed out my system. I lived most of my life pursuing society's, my parent's and friend's expectations of me. I never really had my own belief system and even if I did have one, without The Law, I would've easily absorbed other people's opinions as my reality without a second thought.

But just like Alice, I ran through the maze of our garden as I made my escape from society's constraints and along the way, I got curious and tripped on a overgrown root of an old tree. Until eventually I found myself falling down into this deep mysterious rabbit hole.

"Is it mad to pray for better hallucinations?"

I see this a lot and it's understandable to feel weird, maybe even crazy, for thinking that you could simply get things just by imagining them. But I would like to remind you that you have been doing this the moment you took your first breath. It's not crazy, its just different from what you're used to.

I felt uncomfortable as well when I started manifesting, it was so unbelievable to me. After years of hardships, I would stumble upon Neville Goddard's talks on YouTube and this guy was telling me that I could have everything I wanted by just imagining it? I thought it was the most idiotic thing ever.

But I felt like a bigger idiot for dismissing the most helpful teachings I've ever heard while I was going through a hard time in life. After some time of scepticism, I tried it and you could guess by now that it actually worked. I wouldn't be writing so much about this if it didn't.

To some extent you do need to be delusional, but in my opinion that's not really the word I would like to use when describing this. Why feel the need to pretend its a lie waiting to be true if it's already true?

It will feel like a lie at first but through persistence and repetition, it will have no choice but to harden into fact.

"The destruction of Wonderland, is the destructing of me!?"

If negativity consumes your brain, negativity will consume your reality.

In the game, Alice: Madness Returns, we see that all the characters, scenarios, the train (metaphor: Alice's train of thought) were all reflections of Alice's psyche, the Queen of Hearts is a great example. We can also see that her hair was longer in Wonderland compared to the real world because it was a way to showcase how much Alice had control depending on what world she was in.

And this version of Alice wasn't so happy with her life, but through overcoming tribulations within herself by visiting her own Wonderland. All the answers she wanted was within her all along.

Alice is Wonderland, and Wonderland is Alice.

From this, we could see how much of an impact our imagination can cause. Our emotions, feelings and assumptions, will find it's way to embody itself through a person or situation.

So if you keep thinking something bad will happen, it will happen, vice versa.

That's why you have to pay attention to your train of thought, not necessarily obsessing over everything that comes up in your mind but to remind yourself of where to focus your attention to when you go off track.

"We're all mad here."

After reading all of that, you may think to yourself that this is just a fun and interesting take on the cult classic that is Alice in Wonderland.

You're not wrong but I encourage you to try, run through the garden and fall down the rabbit hole. The Law of Assumption has helped me so much in my life that I couldn't even recognize the person and the lifestyle I had before learning about manifestation.

Thanks to people like Neville Goddard, they helped me realized that we always had and will have the power to create our own reality, and that no one could take away this power.

And it does feel overwhelming but peaceful at the same time, like a catharsis waiting to explode after decades of mundanity. But through your imagination you can create a brand new reality from scratch. You can create a world, a world that's built on your own terms. It's okay to live a life others do not understand.

You can create your own Wonderland.

Go to Wonderland, Alice.

[yuiyuihan]

AKB48 Kubo Hinano × Yagi Azuki, "HinaAzu" Love Story

Interview with AKB48's Kubo Hinano and Yagi Azuki.

From AKB48's 18th generation trainees, the duo of Kubo Hinano and Yagi Azuki, known for their distinctive characters and stunning visuals, make their appearance. We delve into the unknown aspects of the "HinaAzu" combo’s relationship and uncover the secrets to their cuteness.

──The "HinaAzu" combo from 18th generation's trainees! Even THE Kojima Haruna has highly praised your visuals, so did you stand out as exceptionally cute even when you were kids?

Kubo Hinano: Not at all!

Yagi Azuki: Really? I always thought you were a beautiful girl right from the beginning.

──Did you get the princess role during your kindergarten plays?

Kubo Hinano: No, I was "Villager 11."

Yagi Azuki: E…leven!?

Kubo Hinano: Yes, a total mob character (laughs). In high school, I was in the choir and did musicals, but I was always just a supporting role with only one line.

Yagi Azuki: Did you ever play as the lead role?

Kubo Hinano: Just barely in my last year of high school…

Yagi Azuki: You got to be the lead?

Kubo Hinano: It was a role that died around the third act (laughs).

Yagi Azuki: But when I first saw Hinano after entering AKB48, I remember thinking, "Wow, there's a model!" because of her doll-like appearance and good figure.

Kubo Hinano: Hehehe (embarrassed).

Yagi Azuki: But because you were always looking down, my first impression was, "There's a somewhat gloomy model" (laughs).

Kubo Hinano: I was too shy��� Since I joined AKB48, I've always said how cute Azu is, and it seemed like she wasn't exactly pleased by it.

Yagi Azuki: The way she showed her affection was a bit weird. Hinano would come to my SHOWROOM streams and send messages like, "I love you so much, really~" "I'll buy anything for Azu," and lots of stuff like that.

──Did you comment while pretending to be a fan?

Kubo Hinano: No, I used my own name. I even sent gifts.

Yagi Azuki: She was literally spending money on me! Normally, that would be surprising, right? (laughs)

──Do you still visit Yagi-san's SHOWROOM these days?

Kubo Hinano: She doesn't really like it so lately, between 'pushing forward' and 'pulling back'... I'm in the 'pulling back' phase.

Yagi Azuki: You were so pushy at the beginning, weren't you? (laughs)

Kubo Hinano: Azu's face would tense up.

Yagi Azuki: Because I was embarrassed when a genmate tells me she likes me…

──Because you were too pushy back then, are you trying to keep your distance now?

Kubo Hinano: I used to talk to Azu too much before, that even when I just greet her a normal "Good morning," she would show a bit of wariness.

Yagi Azuki: That’s not true!

Kubo Hinano: So recently, I’m trying to be in the 'pulling back' phase and not be bothersome (laughs).

──Is Yagi-san's face your type?

Kubo Hinano: Yes. She’s cute.

Yagi Azuki: Really!?… I’m happy.

Kubo Hinano: I’d like to have her in my class.

Yagi Azuki: You say that a lot (laughs).

Kubo Hinano: But even if we were in the same class, we probably wouldn’t become close.

Yagi Azuki: I don’t think you’d talk to me.

Kubo Hinano: Yeah. Azu and I would be in different social strata.

Yagi Azuki: No, we'd be in the same! (laughs) Because I'm the type to not wear makeup at all, keep my skirt long, and be serious about school.

Kubo Hinano: But I think Azu would be that one quiet member of the popular group and I would just be in the corner watching, admiring how cute you are.

Yagi Azuki: Who would be watching? Hinano?

Kubo Hinano: Yes, me (laughs).

──That's a version of Kubo-san in a parallel world (laughs). What do you think is cute about each other?

Yagi Azuki: When she eats something delicious, her eyes become droopy and she make a "fufu~n" face. That face is very cute.

Kubo Hinano: That's when I eat flour-based food…

Yagi Azuki: When you eat bread, your eyes often look like that. You hide your mouth halfway and make a "fufu~n" face (laughs).

Kubo Hinano: I like Azu’s shiny hair.

──Indeed, her angelic halo is still there.

Kubo Hinano: She has the "beautiful girl’s hair volume."

Yagi Azuki: I've never heard that phrase before (laughs).

Kubo Hinano: It’s the texture and thinness of hair typical of cute girls, and the amount is just right.

Yagi Azuki: I’m happy to be complimented for my face and figure, but I'm also overjoyed to be praised for my hair. I’ve always had long hair and I usually do my best to take care of it. So when fans tell me, "Your hair is so smooth!" at handshake events, it makes me very happy.

──Seeing the cuticle in person is impressive. What kind of compliments make you happy, Kubo-san?

Kubo Hinano: AKB48 is a large group, but when we have concerts in big venues and people say, "Even from afar, I recognized you by your figure" or "You’re easy to spot," it makes me happy.

Yagi Azuki: I envy Hinano’s bone structure. When I saw Hinano in a fashion magazine recently, I thought she was on a different level. She’s so cute.

Kubo Hinano: Hmm~ (laughs).

──You look happy, Kubo-san.

Kubo Hinano: I never get tired of being told I’m cute.

Yagi Azuki: I want to hear it every day. It helps me do my best for the day (laughs).

Source

[bubmyg]

I’ve been into BTS since 2014 and yes most (the bulk I would say) have never seen them or treated them as actual human beings. And you’re right on about the fact that they treat them as dolls playing pretend to make them into whatever they want. They’re not people in their eyes, just objects. It’s very much giving - I like you, I’ve given you my money, I did things for you therefore you must do everything I say and be just like me otherwise die. That is so mind boggling to me. It reminds me of men who become friends with girls and do all these things for them because they like them and then the girl tells them they don’t like them and so they become pissed off because they were “friend zoned” and now they hurt the girls or name call because they didn’t get what they want. Pretty gross to me. When someone disappoints me I don’t sit there and be little them because they don’t align with my views. I simply walk away because I’m not going to force someone to be how I am or believe what I believe just like I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me. That type of behavior pushes people away not makes them come to their side which then becomes worse in the long run. Sounds to me like people need to learn to walk away from the group if it’s that bad and start being fans of people who believe in what they believe.

These psycho “fans” are pushing people away from the agenda because of their behavior instead of trying to educate and unite to bring peace. Even they are the reason I’m losing hope not because of some music group of men who should have never been seen as idols but like the rest of us just as humans. Or maybe I’ve just lost hope (no pun intended) in everything.

If being into BTS is making people feel some type of way then it’s time to walk away. Being into K-Pop is not a need, it’s a want. We won’t die without it.

this isn’t necessarily the point i was trying to make but i think i kind of agree with this and i kind of don’t.

this talking point generally is used to absolve them of any accountability, which i think is a very important part of treating them as humans. the answer to someone w a huge platform doing wrong should not be that everyone who disagrees just leave. like the “unstan” argument is more often than not weaponized so that certain factions of the fandom feel better in their complicity. i am always going to be of the opinion that they should speak out and use their platforms positively always for anything. in no way do i ever want to imply that they shouldn’t do the right thing

on the same token, i think that a lot of activism in fandom spaces has teetered into unhelpful and diluted territory for months. activism as a whole is constant work. it should not be fun or comfortable. others who are privileged enough to be ignorant to what’s going on should not be gifted with comfort. however, at some point, i think u simply have to accept that maybe they’re not going to do as you want, specifically not to the degree that ur organized, deeply educated circles are hoping for. and if that bothers u to this degree for this long, ur energy is probably best spent elsewhere

[distopea]

She was the most beautiful woman Nunnally had seen in a long time. Her beauty was as striking as the fact she was an outsider. It was her dress, her hair style, the way she moved, spoke, held the glass that made it painfully obvious she didn’t belong there with the rest of the guests. And that she was not welcomed. At least by the majority of the female guests. Nunnally wondered if the woman (what was her name again? Sybille?) could feel that. She was watching her from over the glass of red wine as she was surrounded by men and seemed overly happy (and proud?) for getting their fake attention. Was she an escort? Or just some poor girl that was hoping that the man she came with (or any of them actually) would fall in love and marry her? Well, that was hardly to happen and Nunnally truly pitied Sybille. She was hoping her face was not showing that but even if it were, the girl wouldn’t notice. Nunnally was probably invisible for her.

But Nunnally had seen (and met) too many of such girls to think this one would have more luck in finding her happy ending here. Even though she considered Sybille naïve and perhaps even foolish to play the game she could not win, Nunnally didn’t think she deserved all that treatment that was going on behind her back. Was she even aware of it? Did she care? Nunnally was not the one to do it often (or ever in fact) but that remark she just heard about the woman made her wanting to intervene. She walked towards the group admiring Sybille, involuntarily stealing some attention from her (it would be so impolite if the heiress to the political and financial empire was ignored, right?).

“You’ve got a lovely dress, Sybille…” – she said lightly as if they were good friends – “You must share your secret with me and confess who designed it for you as I am actually looking for a new attire.” – she sent an apologetic smile to the men surrounding them; that was what these "morons" wanted to think about her. So let them have it. She smiled to Sybille again – “Since soon the men will have some time for their tiny business, we will also have a chance to discuss our things.” – Nunnally kept her face innocent – “You must promise to reserve some time for me.” – suddenly Nunnally was not sure what and why she was doing. But no-one would guess her thoughts as she confidently stood there waiting for Sybille's reply.

@lured-into-wonderland

Sybille was truly enjoying herself. Whenever one of her regulars would call her for those fancy parties, she knew she would be the center of their attention. Bad gossip, dark stares and other little remarks would escort her walk, but surely, she didn’t care much about all of this. She was there for multiple reasons; but one, of course, was for the money earned. Her host of the night was clearly loaded, and from the generous amount he had sent to her bank account, it was more than certain he wanted to finish the night somewhere in a palace, probably naked and intertwined. She felt quite in the mood for that, parading at his arm with her glittering dress she had demanded to specifically buy for the occasion (his money should be useful after all), and her glass of champagne; truly, she felt that she was born for this. She didn’t care at all if it was only for the job, only to play pretend; she felt perfectly content with the attention. 

It was easy to laugh at the bad jokes and other little teasing comment they would throw at her. The more she knew it was pissing off the feminine part of the audience, and the better it was. Sybille was paid to be a mystery, to enthrall people and to belong to only one man for one night. The lucky fellow knew it; he had certainly wanted to have her around to gain popularity or a good amount of scandal around his name, but she was there to be the wanted doll. Yet, she would soon be disturbed during her performance, when, through the masculine attention she received, Sybille eyed a woman coming her way. She hadn’t noticed her until now; she seemed to belong to this world, politely smiling in the middle of the sharks when there was blood in the water. 

“Oh? Thank you.” She observed the difference of style between the two of them, her eyes gleaming with wicked intentions, quite unhappy to be bothered, but she had to pretend it was fine. “Yes, of course. I’m quite used to the cold weather though, maybe my brand of clothes is a bit too short for you.” She hummed and smiled, earning a little laughter from the man who had paid her. A frown crossed her face though, as she wondered why she would ever have to entertain someone else than her client? She tipped her nail against her glass of champagne, staring. 

“I wasn’t aware those gentlemen needed a moment alone. But I guess it won’t be that long, right, honey?” She eyed her client; the message was clear on his side. If he ever hoped to caress those legs later tonight, he had better not make her wait, or else, money would have to follow. “Promise?” She didn't have the capacity to hide her surprise, or even her lack of interest. She only offered a long stare. “Well, if you insist, then. Yet, I still do have obligations, and my sweet beloved Victor shouldn’t be left alone for too long.”

She brushed her client’s arm before she slammed her glass onto the tray a waiter was carrying, grabbing another one. “I have to powder my nose.” She gave a light pout before she detached herself from her client. “Gentlemen, I’ll be more than happy to chat with you a bit later.” 

[silverstori]

... Throwback Tori

I think it's better if I just write this in the first person point of view.

So, I woke up one time, that was summer. My parents had to go to work, My siblings are nowhere. But I was at home with my brother. We also had a house helper, who really is not a helper that much, I realized just now.

I ate breakfast and played with my dolls while my brother was watching TV. His friend suddenly showed up calling him through the window.

When we were young we are taught to ask permission first before we let someone in. The helper, who obviously is older than us, let Lexis' friend come inside the house. The helper was just upstairs talking to someone on her phone. While I was left behind downstairs with them. Lexis asked me to go up as well and so I did. When I went up the helper told me to go down. I'm very young and I just follow whatever they say, because that's what I was taught. The youngest always obey.

When I came down I wasn't sure what to react, what to think, what to feel, and what to say.

Lexis is watching TV and his friend too, but his friend is sitting on top of him, butt-naked.

I was frozen on the stairs.

After a few minutes, they changed position.

Then his friend saw me. And Lexis just told him, "Let her be, she doesn't know anything."

They did a lot of positions I didn't understand back then. After an hour, they cornered me and told me to not say anything to anyone.

I remember completely as his friend threatened me that I will hold his penis if I talk about what I saw. I was about to cry and I closed my eyes as his friend came toward me.

They did that a lot of times when no one is at home. Just me and the helper. The helper once checked on us when we were downstairs and they were doing the stuff I didn't understand. They jumped out of each other and pretended that they aren't doing anything.

Every time, I go near my elder sisters or parents Lexis will always give signals to me that he will hurt me or make me cry if I talk.

I never told anyone this. But remembering the scenario made me feel anger towards his friend. I don't even want to hear his name. My brother even tells stories when we were young and he often mentions his name. I hate it. That guy even tried to be friends with me on SNS. I got scared but also angry. I ignored him since then...

This was one of the secret stories I wish I could've told anyone to save me from the horrible thoughts that I had...

Did your brother do this to you too?

#throwbacktori #iamtori #silversotry #cilverhitori

[diamcndlegacy]

"Oh well that great! That'll make this way more easier then! We can talk to her together in the morning." He still wasn't sure about yellow and definitely didn't wanna introduce her to white just yet. Out of all of them blue would be the most understanding and apparently liked the gem already. Not to mention she seemed to cling to things attached to his mother's legacy. She wouldn't just cast aside spinel when she used to be pink very best friend.

Princey's room did look pretty similar to how it had all those years ago when it used to be pink's but there were some slight differences. His room was themed around royalty which he pretty much was but moreso princes and princesses from those disney movies he watched. Ones that he would likely show spinel seeing as they would be spending all their time together now that they were best friends.

In his toy box his mothers toys still remained. As well as some of the pebbles resting there but also sat on top were his various dolls. Some taken from trips blue had taken on earth. Every so often she liked bringing the boy snacks and toys. It was one of the few ways he connected with his human side. Because gems had no way of knowing the gender norms modern humans had she had always just bought him the toys on the pink side of the toy aisles.

As a result since he was a toddler he was just given more girly toys to play with which varied from dolls to, dress up clothes and makeup and nail polish sets. As well as sets for his tea parties. Along with all normal dolls he also had custom made ones that looked like pearls. Before spinel came along they were his favorite gem type and one he attached himself to seeing as the diamonds pearls basically acted as his nannies.

"Oh I've never even thought about playing those games!" He kinda wanted to play that colony game at one point. He'd been begging for one forever at this point. "I usually play hide and seek or tag. Oh and I like having tea parties! So let's play that one!" Quickly he gathered up some stuffed animals from his bed and placed them around his little table meant for such a game. Along with a couple pearl dolls. "Okay this is how you play. These are tea cups and this is the teapot. You're supposed to pour the pretend tea inside them. Then you just have conversation with all my toy friends! Think you can do it?"

Steven loved listening to her and hearing her talk about pink made him think not only was this the beginning of an amazing friendship but spinel really knew pink. She was his mom's best friend. It was literally her purpose to be that. That meant there was so much he could ask about her. Finally he'd be told more than just the basic stuff that she was so kind and such a gracious leader. This was an opportunity to get to know his long passed mother on a deeper level.

"That's great! I always loved playing with the pearls but the diamonds scolded me when I was distracting them too much from their duty." Which seemed to be everything. Unlike every other gem who had one singular purpose pearls seemed bombarded with countless tasks that would make anyone's head spin. He honestly admired them a lot for working so hard.

So far he really liked spinel and he saw what his mom saw in her. The gem even through her heartbreak and her grief was managing to be a great friend already. She was so giddy and friendly and excitable. Not to mention affectionate. Steven couldn't help but erupt into delighter laughter as he was squeezed tight.

Her promise filled him up with this warmth. This happiness that spread throughout his entire being. He really believed her when she said it and after the experience she had being out here all on her own he thought she deserved a new friend too. He sure as heck wasn't gonna let her rot out here a second longer than he had to. "You really give the best hugs spinel and I'm sure were gonna be great friends! Best friends even if you're okay with that."

He didn't wanna push her after everything she'd been through and maybe considering she just learned she lost pink she wasn't ready to make a new best friend. The diamond hybrid gave a sigh of relief once they were beamed back home. Right back into his room. The boy didn't let go of her hand as he led her to his toy chest. "I'm gonna tell the diamonds about you once you're settled but blue really loves me so I'm pretty sure she'll be more than fine with you becoming my spinel. So what game do you wanna play first? Or we could play with my toys!"

[aseaofyoongi]

rivals academia | knj

pairing: knj x reader (f)

genre: slight angst/smut

rating: mature audiences ONLY (strictly 18+)

wc: 4.2 thousand

summary: you and kim namjoon absolutely hate eachother but after you’re both paired for a school project — things get rather interesting at the school library.

warnings: enemies to one-night stand (potential fwb) unprotected sex (wrap it up yall); penetrative sex; hand job; fingering; brief nipple play; teasing; dirty talk; public sex; foul language; dirty talk; bickering; thigh riding; slight degradation; praise kink; i think thats it ??; namjoon’s fucking thighs; i was having a moment of weakness please; college au

posted: sunday september 11th, 2022

-

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Repulsed.

That’s precisely the word indicative enough to portray exactly how you felt. Repulsed, repugnant, nauseated, revolting — it all came rushing in like a wave of rage aggressively meeting the golden shores.

It was overwhelming yet still - here you sat across from him and his absolutely irritating aura. It excluded an intoxicating amount of cockiness and an irritating deal of arrogance.

His presence was so irritating.

So fucking irritating.

“Are we supposed to finish this whole project today?” He asked exasperated - as if putting off the project until the last minute wasn’t his exact idea and now he wants to treat it as a nuisance?

“The project is due Monday, Kim. And it is 8:00PM Friday,” you briefly examined the watch sitting on your wrist, “and I’m guessing you have plans for the entire weekend?”

Namjoon nodded eagerly, picking up his phone for the thousandth time but you snatched it right out of his hand.

“What the—”

“It’s time to get to work. For real this time, Kim.” You shoved his phone in your purse, “I'm tired of you just pretending to do things.”

“Can I have my phone back?” He uttered through gritted teeth.You could’ve sworn you saw clouds of smoke emitting from his ears as his usually chocolate eyes turned red hot with anger, “Now!.”

“You’ll get it back when you actually fucking do something for once.” You snapped back — standing your ground.

He slouched back on the wooden library chair and scoffed typing away at his laptop.

Kim Namjoon.

If it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t your first choice for a project partner, however, your Intro to Art History professor thought otherwise. And now you suffered the consequences; bearing the temper tantrums of a man baby.

“What was the year for Venus of Urbino again?”

“1534.”

“Artist?”

“Titian.”

“Interpretation some believe?”

You huffed — he was truly insufferable, “did you even read the cards she passed out?”

He rolled his eyes, “does it look like I did?”

“Kim, do I really have to do your part of the project too?”

He quirked a brow as he shrugged, “you’re the one holding me hostage.”

“I’m not holding you anything. You have a responsibility to this project as my partner. This doesn’t just fall on me.”

“And yet here I am contributing absolutely nothing and you’re already doing both our jobs so you might as well excuse me.” He pushed his chair back in an attempt to stand-up.

“I swear if you so much as take a step, Kim,” you stood up from the table from him — your eyes sternly set on his. You were not afraid of him, “your name will be removed from this entire fucking project and word on the street is you’re current GPA isn’t really securing you a place on the team. What is the athlete’s magic number again? 2.5 right?”

“Ouch!” His full lips curved into a smile. His chasmic dimples on full display. You could sense the sarcasm even in the simple phrase your attention was averted towards his lips. It’s rather nice. His smile that is. You didn’t really see it often but his smile — fuck — it was picturesque; similar to the sunset as it kissed the deepest depths of the cerulean sea when nighttime lurked behind in its shadows.

“Don’t hold back now.” he uttered, taking a seat once again.

“I don’t intend to.”

“Tell me, doll. Are you always this dense?”

You ignored him and continued typing your section of the project. Just pretend he’s not even here — you repeat in your head.

“Are you going to answer my question on Venus about the depiction or should I spend the next hour researching it?”

You looked up at him and there it is again. The soft strokes of curvatures of his golden cheeks painting a delicate smile.

“It is literally a five minute search,” You cleared your throat in an attempt to be clear and to avoid having to repeat yourself, “but to save you the trouble; we're focusing on sexuality through the ages she is theorized to be masturbating, Kim.”

“Masturbating?”

“Precisely, with the way she’s laying naked and the placement of her hands — it’s only been assumed by some and obviously our professor as well considering she included it.”

Namjoon huffed. “Interesting.”

“Not at all,” you pointed at his laptop, “now write it down.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Where is this going, Kim?”

“Well,” he began, “I don’t mean to be lewd—”

“You already are, Kim.”

“It’s Joon,” Namjoon smirked, “but have you ever?”

His words were brief but they were tainted with a vivid carmine hue — all of it backtracked with sexual intent. And truly you despised the kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting at the pit of your stomach.

“That is none of your business.”

“—but it is something to be curious about.”

“I don’t see why,” though the library was completely vacant and you both sat in a private study area for some reason you could feel a swarm of watchful judging eyes — all of them condemning everything you've ever done. Everything right down to that very question. You shifted in your seat clearly affected at the utterances of his beguiling words, “and the next artwork on the list is The Swing. Figure it out.”

“Truly, has a girl like you even —” he chuckled, “never mind.”

“What could you possibly mean by that?” there was a feeling bubbling deep inside but you couldn’t quite decipher what it was. Anger? Annoyance? Bashfulness? .

“I just mean you’re innocent.”

“Innocent?”

“You could barely say ‘masturbation’ without a stutter a couple minutes ago,” he shrugged and you knew that in his own twisted way Namjoon was using this as another thing to hold over you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I just don’t feel like discussing those things with you. This has nothing to do with how innocent you think I am.”

“I think. .” He drifted off. His chin was now propped up on his palms.

“You think?” you emphasized the word ‘think.’

“You wanna know what I think?”

“Is it that maybe you should shut up for once so we can get this project done already?”

“In fact,” he scoffed, beginning to share his theory anyway, “I think you’re a virgin.”

“That’s a great observation, Kim. Now let’s move on to what we’re actually here for.”

He slouched down in his chair, his arms now crossed at his chest, his eyes laid intently on you sitting right across from him. His watchfulness was kind of — intimidating to say the least.

“Kim, it’s 9PM. Can we please?” you sighed your eyes, never leaving the brightness of your screen.

“I would but it’s just so hard to concentrate.”

You sighed, “what will it take for you to finally move on and finish this project once and for all?” You shut your laptop, your eyes finally meeting his once again,

“Answer my question. Have you ever masturbated?”

His cavernous voice was bottomless like the deep sea and the obscenity in his words sent a glacial shiver down your spine. Was his voice always this low? You’d never really noticed before.

“I know you may think I’m familial to freaks of some sort but like any normal person I have in fact masturbated Joon,” you let out all in one breathe.

“You called me Joon,”

“I did,” his smile beamed brighter than sun rays — the rapid thumping of your heart beat aggressively thumped against the walls of your chest and you were afraid he might just be able to hear, “Are we done or do you also need a demonstration?”

“Let’s make your proposition a bit more sensible,” he began.

“I was kidding.”

“It was your idea,” The air in the room grew thicker. It constricted your airway and for a minute you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Were the air vents even opened here? You checked and they were, “are you already backing out now?”

“Joon. .”

“Tell me,” his voice was provocative and you feared one more soft utter would have you stripped bare with little to no command.

“Tell you?” your leg is bouncing under the wooden table and you could feel your palms growing clammy.

The soft glimmer of the luminous moonbeam was casted upon him accentuating his sun-kissed tone and the striking features staring back at you intently — his glistening cherry lips, the way his dimples formed at the mere appearance of the smirk on his face and his stern amber gaze still so intimidating. It made you feel small but you are not going to show him the power he could have over you.

“What do you wanna hear?” your tone now masked in thin layers of silk.

He panted softly, “I want to hear it all.”

“You wanna hear about how I lay completely bare with my head propped up against my pillows. Eyes shut tightly as my hands explore every single inch of my body pretending it’s someone else?”

“Fuck-” His hands dug under the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes now casted on the way the cotton light grey fabric rhythmically moved up and down repeatedly. His chest heaved as his breathing became uneven — and in that moment you could not think of a more captivating sight. Like an erotic painting right out of the renaissance era. You remained at your previous position behind his chair, “but when I get tired of that I have to resort to other measures as you may know.”

“I d-don’t know..” he groaned. His tone expressed frustration and arousal combined. The repulsion you once felt ceased and all your mind could become aware of was the vast ocean accumulating between your thighs; staining the fabric of your underwear as the sight of Namjoon stroking himself in the campus library became imprinted in your mind.

“Sometimes, I also like to mount my pillow placing my thighs on each side as I move my hips steadily against the soft fabric. Slowly rolling my hips back and forth until I’m finally able to reach that high,” you whispered.

His soft pants filled the stillness and furnished the serenity amongst the vacant tables and chairs right outside the private study room. The sounds so addicting it looped within the walls of your head like a vinyl on a broken record player.

“Y-You—” was all he could manage as he became enthralled in his own pleasure, the sweat forming at his temples could attest to it.

“Can I touch you Joon?”

“Please.”

You placed a velvet kiss on the nape of his neck. Your hands found their way up to his dark strands — you softly tugged at it, pushing his head back, “well I’m not the one with my hands in my pants. Am I?”

A thunderous chuckle rumbled within the four walls of the secluded study room, “Please believe you are the clear cause of this.”

“I didn’t do anything, Joon.” you let out an airy laugh, “just provided details of a scenario per your request. Remember?”

“You’re a fucking demon.”

“And you’re too easy. Just like every other horny dude on this campus.”

“Please—” He begged, grabbing onto your wrist before you could walk away. This tone was husk and as much as you hated to admit it. It was like an alluring song to your ears all of it shooting right down to your core just like everything he did. “I need you.”

I need you. The three words invaded your tympanum serving as a command for his needed pleasure and you felt as if your feet vacated their stance on the ground. His honey voice was lulling and if he continued to say anything in that tone, you’d fear your dignity would rid itself and follow every single thing he’d bark without objection. Every bone in your body already begged you to comply; to do it for you and chase your own pleasure — and as much as your mind screamed at you to leave. You listened to the throbbing between your legs instead.

“Pull it all down,” You ordered and Joon quickly rid himself of the pesky fabrics standing between him and utter vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to get up, just allowed them to pool at his ankles. His rather massive erection now on full display — shocked wasn’t the word you were looking for. After all, Joon always exuded the aura that he was considerable in size but nevertheless it was a pleasant reaffirmation to your lingering rumors.

Joon cleared his throat pulling your eyes away from his erection — your trance was essentially amusing to him, you could see it painted on his smirk, “You can come closer you know. If you want to.”

“Closer?”

Joon softly tapped on his bare thighs. His thick fucking thighs. Having attended numerous of his soccer games you were constantly given a sneak peak at his toned legs. His upper thighs often lolled you into a fantasy that was now taking play right before you and instead of following the script your head had created for you on multiple occasions; instead you sat here salivating at the clear view of his lower half without the burden of shorts being in the way.

“Come sit. Please,” his pleading made your legs turn to jello — the way his tone so delicately continued to voice his intricate needs was fucking sexy. Although you’ve only been sitting on top of his left thighs approximately 30 seconds now you couldn’t help the way you were throbbing at an uncontrollable beat. You were certain he could feel it too — it was plastered all over his shit-eating grin.

“Can you be a good girl and move for me please?” His tone still velvet to the touch.

Your underwear were already drenched and you were terrified he would notice — the lack of shorts under your skirt left only the thin cotton fabric of your underwear to meet his thighs. But you were not going to back down. Not now.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” you simply stated.

“Just follow along.”

You nodded.

Initially, the mere feeling of his hands secured around your waist clouded your thoughts entirely. His warm grasp sent waves of electric currents down your spine but nothing prepared you for the feeling that bubbled in your core as soon as his sinful hands instructed you to move. The pace began agonizingly slow and you followed his motion moving forward and backwards against his thigh.

You whimpered, “It feels so good. .”

Joon laughed — the sound drummed at your eardrums and without a stutter in his rhythm you were being guided to move against him faster and faster as he continued flexing his thigh muscles causing all that more friction against your lower half.

“N-namjoon,” You moaned holding on to his chest for support; your head rolled back as you grew consumed by pleasure.

His hands vacated their place on your waist but you continued the steady pace against him chasing a high you knew you were very close to achieving. Joon’s attention was diverted into your clothed chest.

“Can I take your shirt and bra off?”

“Mhm,” was all you truly could manage.

Though, you were breaking a sweat going at it against his thighs as soon as your top half was stripped you felt a draft of cool air meet your perky nipples. The slight frigidness you briefly felt subsided and instead you were met with Joon’s warm touch once again except now it was taking a hold of your breast — his slender finder massaged one while the other was taken care of by his plump lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck as the rhythm of your hips stopped against his thigh. Your senses now focused entirely on the way he swirled his tongue against the sensitive bud.

He paused for a moment looking up at you through hooded eyes, “did I say you could stop?”

“No.”

“Then, continue riding my thigh until I say it’s enough.”

The switch off between his pleads for consent and the way he barked orders in your direction shot straight down only adding to the piled up sexual frustration bubbling deep within you but nevertheless you obeyed — now taking on a slower pace against him as he continued his attack on your breasts.

Locked away in a retreat of arousal and between slurred words and dazed moans you asked Joon if he was in accordance with receiving some attention as well.

“I want to focus on you.”

“And I on you,”

“If you insist,” he gave in, “just stay on my lap.”

His words set a stump in wanting to suck him off but ultimately you settled for using your hands. After aiming down to use your saliva as lubricant you could see the shock sitting behind his lust induced eyes. Your hands began working at his length mimicking his earlier motions — there was nothing more you wanted than to be on your knees in front of him but you were glad you fought against those urges when you felt his hands traveling under your skirt to move your panties to the side.

“Fuck.” He hissed, “you’re drenched.” Joons words only affect you in the worst way possible. Causing the pool between your thighs to deepen, “you claim you’re so fucking quiet but that’s all a facade you know. You’re a fucking slut.”

You never thought a word would affect you as much as being called a slut but you fucking loved it.

“Call me that again,” you whined, “call me that again, please.”

“You’re a slut — you know that?” the soft pads of his fingers finally arrived at their destination and quickly began massaging your clit . . lento. An eruption of lights fired in the back of your mind as Joon continued to immerse himself in bringing you utter satisfaction. You were levitating — your body vibrated which only accentuated the feeling of his heavenly touch.

“Your slut.” your lips ‘fessed up before your brain could register what you actually said.

“My slut.” He sat-up on the wooden chairs but his fingers abandoned your bundle of nerves and traveled further down resting at your entrance, “You know what you’re doing to me right?”

His face was just inches away from yours but your eyes were set on his lips — you leaned forward. Both of you began composing a magical piece in the way your lips danced against each other. His kisses were drug induced and you were already addicted; making it impossible to even pull away so you didn’t and he certainly didn’t either. Under your skirt his phantom touch ceased until you felt his pointer and middle fingers push past your entrance.

“Your fingers are blessed Joon. . They’re fucking blessed. .” you rambled on, “Blessed.”

“You think so?” He pushed them further in causing a strain of moans to fall from your swollen lips.

“Hmm.”

Joon’s pace picked up as he continued to move in and out of you repeatedly. Truly, all the words you could make out were stuttered strings of praises toward his fingers. They were fucking blessed and right then you swore you could write a million poems just on how delectable they felt inside of you.

“Uh, J-Joon. I’m so close. . so so fucking close Joon.”

“Come for me,” he whispered against the nape of your neck as he continued peppering you with silken kisses.

“Shit. .”

His fingers continued moving at a rapid pace as they finally met that spot that drove you over the edge. If you were levitating before you could easily confirm that now you danced amongst the twinkling stars.

“You were so good for me.” He was panting, his chest matching your heaving as you came down from your high, “so fucking good for me.”

His words were always so intricately sensual and you could feel your arousal throb at his dulcet praises.

Why did you hate him again? You couldn’t recall ever having such a feeling for the man you were currently straddling.

You didn’t hate him. You craved him.

After Namjoon removed his hands from underneath your skirt he brought his fingers up to your mouth and smeared your juice on your lips like lip gloss. Before you knew it you were welcoming his digits past your cerise lips tasting your sweet nectar right off his fingers.

“You are so hot.”

“Did it really take having me half naked on your lap for you to realize that?”

“Actually, no. . only one of us in this room actually hated the other.”

“I didn’t hate you.” you blurred out.

“I didn’t say you did, doll. But since you practically snitched on yourself I think it’s safe to say you despise me. ”

“I despised you. As it's in the past,” you corrected him.

“Dick is all it took to change your mind?”

“Hmm,” you took Joon’s cock in your hand slowly pumping at his shaft once again. And he just looked so good— slouched on the chair, his hair disheveled, a slight glow taking hold of his forehead and chest as sweat ran down his tan skin tone. His grin showed the way his teeth sparkle even in the darkness of the room. Namjoon is pulchritudinous and you are under his spell, “I would need to actually have you inside me to make that deduction.”

“I-I didn’t bring protection,” he let out in-between pants.

“I mean I’m clean. Are you?”

He nodded eagerly. But that didn’t suffice. You wanted to hear his raspy voice as confirmation. You tightened your hold on his erection just a bit, “I didn’t hear you.”

His jaw was clenched but still managed a soft, “I’m clean.”

“Perfect.”

Joon welcomed you back on his lap now accompanying him in complete nudity after you had finally decided to rid yourself of the clothes still covering your lower half. His keen gaze felt like it cut right through your confidence like a knife. And although it was a bit intimidating you didn’t let it set a stumble in your actions. His hand landed back on your waist like earlier that night and he guided you towards the tip of his erection.

“Hold it while you go down.”

You complied. Taking him inch-by-inch, your mouth forming into an ‘O’ immediately after his tip pushed past your entrance.

“Y-you’re so fucking big,” you could’ve sworn his length was sucking the air right out of you like a vacuum.

If you thought Namjoon’s thighs and fingers are graces sent by God himself, there was absolutely nothing in this world that could compare to his cock. There was nothing in this world that could feel so—

“J-Joon,” you moaned, attempting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure driven by the guidance of his clammy hands as you bounced on his dick.

“You feel so good, doll. You’re doing so well.”

His praises you discovered are your weakness — his words were dipped in honey and they fed your ears affirmations you could not get enough of. Your head grew hazy at the duality in his words.

That alone drove you closer and closer to the edge. Not to mention the way his thrusts met yours was a sufficient contribution to your demise — you are about to crumble at the mercy of Kim Namjoon’s massive dick.

“R-right there,” your temples glisten with sweat and you could feel the scratchiness in your throat take flight after the past hour you’ve just had, “don’t— please don’t stop.”

“Mhm. .” His thrusts are harder. Deeper. You could feel the way he continued meeting you right where you needed him most. His eyes never lose contact where your bodies meet comforted in the way he disappears inside of you entirely.

And he continued fucking you so good. Fucking you into oblivion.

The silence that once tip-toed around the both of you was gone never to be seen again. Instead it was replaced by the squeaking of the chair (which you continued to pray it wouldn’t break), Namjoon’s groans and your slurred obscenities. It was like that for a while until your legs began to shake and your moans became too loud to suppress. Until your juices coated his cock and his filled you up.

“The Swing-” he managed after catching his breath, “Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1767. It symbolizes the ideas of infidelity, desire, eroticism and love. The guy on the bottom left is peeking up her dress right?”

“Huh?”

“The next one on the list for our project.”

You stared at him wide-eyed, a bit stunned by the realization, “You knew the information this entire time?”

“I had to get your attention somehow right,” he snickered.

“I hate you, Kim Namjoon,” you laughed playfully, landing a punch on his arm.

“After tonight, I think we both know that is simply not true.”

-

-

-

authour’s note: it took me forever to finish this for a lot of reasons but the main being that thisismyfirstsmutandiwassupernervoustopost so lol sorry if its — bad — i do apologize in advance. I tried and am using it as a way to break out of that shell and explore uncharted grounds. either way i hope some of you enjoy it lol

thank you for reading <3

- em

[paletigers]

Brahms Heelshire Headcanons

I’ve seen the takes on here and I am disappointed. So I will now set the record straight and provide some hot takes on this man.

•He’s very intelligent ↳ I don’t know why Brahms fans don’t give him full credit but this guy is insanely intelligent. His entire room exemplifies this: the walls being diy soundproofed/insulated, the beartraps and animal traps in his room takes competence to set up properly and place in a strategical manner, the countless number of books in his room so hes obviously well read, etc. etc. 

•He’s a master manipulator ↳ Along with his intelligence comes his manipulation skills. I think the fans of Brahms often misinterpret the whole “baby talk” Brahms does and says it’s a fetish thing or a mommy kink thing, but I believe it is pure manipulation. There’s a lot of context in the movie that gives this point weight. Greta is said to have had a miscarriage, so pretending to be a dead boy that gives Greta comfort is just a manipulation tatic. This can also be seen when Brahms having just revealed himself uses a baby voice to call out to Greta after striking Malcolm. ANOTHER THING, the whole “going to bed” sequence I also feel is misinterpreted. I think it is a mixture of self ‘satisfaction’ as well as manipulation on Brahms’ part. He’s obviously infatuated with Greta and doesn’t want to lose her, so he plays along to get back into her good graces after almost killing Malcolm.  ((I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum, but I really don’t see the mommy kink thing. I can see him being a submissive of sorts however.))

•He’s the one truly in control of his parents. ↳We’re told in the movie that Brahms parents are the reason he lives in the walls and can’t come out, that they made the rules for Brahms to follow, and that they hire nannies to take care of Brahms for when they eventually go off to abandon Brahms. BUT I think this is a load of horseshit. I believe the Brahms doll was his idead and was a way to control his family in a sense. I also believe that at first, Brahms was probably just forced to stay in the house out of sight at first, but as he grew up and got bigger and too much to handle, that he made the choice to live in the walls. I imagine that the secret room he lives in was probably a playroom that his parents didn’t even know existed and as he grew older it became his bedroom. The dude is tall as fuck and stacked for gods sakes, he took out Malcolm kind of easily (by suprise, but still). I can’t imagine that the parents knew about all the secret entrances and chose to live in the house and in the master bedroom knowing their child could sneak up on them and kill them in their sleep without being genuinely frightened by him and controlled by him. If they had the power, why didn’t they make it so Brahms physically could not leave the walled up bedroom??? Why didn’t they close all the secret entrances?? Where is the thought. The doll is also pretty random for Mrs. Heelshire to have wanted made, since Brahms killed that girl as a child. She wants a constant reminder of the boy who murdered a girl and lit himself on fire accidentally? Okaaaay. We see Brahms at the end of the movie repair his mask, what if he made the doll or wanted the doll to be made? It’s a power move on his end.

Okay, now for the actual hot takes •BRAHMS HEELSHIRE IS A TRANS MAN!!!! ↳ So OBVIOUSLY I’m not saying this is canon, but this is my personal favorite Brahms headcanon. There’s so much subtext that can be interpreted in this way and here’s what I think: It (1. Explains the reason for the creation of “the boy” doll (2. Why Brahms has such a disdain for his lush lifestyle (3. Could give a reason to the death of his childhood friend at his own hands, and (4. Why that fucking doll SO:

JUST GONNA SAY THIS BEFORE I START: this headcanon is based off my personal experience as a trans guy and someone with mental illness. I don’t want it to seem like being trans is the reason he did all of this stuff, but a different explanation to why all of this could have happened. (1.) The doll is the “accurate” representation of Brahms. If we are going with the pretense that Brahms is transgender (FtM), this would mean he would have grown up in a strict, gender role inforced, conservative household and been raised as a girl. Being FtM, this would have been an incredibly triggering and traumatic experience, seeing how the Heelshire parents are so strict in the movie. This probably would have included punishments for Brahms acting out of line or “unsightly” in regards to gender presentation. It can also explain the relationship between Brahms and his parents. We only see what the movie shows us (obviously) so we don’t have much insight into why Brahms acts this way or why he holds his parents hostage in the way he does. It seems that Brahms is entirely to blame while the poor parents are just victims. But we know nature and nurture are really important things to a child’s syche growing up, and I don’t entirely believe the parents are blameless, this headcanon or not. For this particular headcanon, I think the parents probably abused Brahms in the way “old timey”/ “traditional” parenting works like the authoritarian parenting style relying heavily on punishment. While Brahms obviously has a mental illness that could explain the way he acts, this could have been combated if the Heelshires had raised Brahms in a way that recognized their child was ill and got him treatment. The way they phrase his personality as a child gives some speculation that the parents knew he acted out of the ordinary, but seemingly they didn’t do anything about it. My own personal headcanon is that Brahms probably suffers from some sort of personality disorder such as HPD, historonic personality disorder or some sort of other disorder. People with HPD when abused or in an instable home environment can increase risk, which could have led to Brahms lashing out during childhood. For this headcanon in particular, having a personality disorder while being abused in addition to having feelings of gender dysphoria could have caused Brahms to “snap” in a sense. I dunno, food for thought. ((author projecting onto brahms whaaat no way))

(2.) So like, Brahms is obviously very unhappy with his current living situation. He prefers living in (his own sense, i suppose) a comfortable, personalized cramped room rather than even step foot outside into the actual house. In the movie, we’re told they forced him to live in the walls to hide the fact he wasn’t actually dead, but I mean genuinely how does that make sense, especially if they’re scared of him. They have enough money and resources to cover up the murder of the girl and the best case scenario for them is..that? (once again it kind of gives weight to the abuse theory because how is that a healthy mindset or actions to take after your kid does something like that??) So TLDR, I believe that the reason for living in the walls even with his power over his family is because he just genuinely hates it there. Living with abusers in a house that caused you so much pain that living in the walls seemed like the best option. It also gives him freedom to sneak around and have freedom despite how ‘princess tower’ of a situation it looks like.  (3.) Why did he kill that girl? In the movie, the explaination would just be “he’s insaaanee oooooh mentally ill person scarrryy” but I suggest something with a bit more substance. The girl, Emily, probably seemed like everything Brahms couldn’t be for his parents, like a constant reminder of his failure to be the perfect daughter. Emily could have been favorited by his parents and she could have been a constant comparison against Brahms as a form of abuse. (why can’t you be more like emily, stuff like that). Obviously thats not Emily’s fault, but in a child’s mind in his state it could be his reason to “get rid” of her.  (4.) What’s up with that doll? If, previously stated in the post that the doll is not the mothers idea, then why would Brahms request the doll to be made? ITS A REPRESENTATION OF BRAHMS WANTING A CHILDHOOD OF BEING RAISED A BOY!!!!! GOD DAMN IT!!! Forcing his parents to take care of this doll of how he sees himself and his parents resent him for it??? COME ON THATS SO FUCKING FUN!! Especially since Brahms wears a matching porcelain mask!!! It’s a facade!! It’s his inner feelings of how he sees himself!! Especially since he was burned on his face, he wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of himself already, making the mask and the doll would probably give him a fucked up sense of gender euphoria!!! I THINK ITS NEAT!!! I only have a couple of regular headcanons for him since we don’t know much about his character but the trans headcanon is all the meat of this post and how I feel about him. I think it gives a really fun reading of his character and provides an explaination to all the weird shit happening in the manor. Let me know what you guys think, obviously if you don’t agree with this headcanon thats cool! Cis Brahms is just as fun :)

[liaaacantwrite]

Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Series)

Chapter Two: Just the Two of Us

part one! part three!

(A/N: i know billy may be slightly out of character, but this is just for fun! i think most people, especially people as young as billy was, are capable of being kind and loving if they’re shown how to do those things, and he clearly wasn’t. this is just a silly little story that i’m writing for myself, and i’m glad other people can also enjoy it! so thank you so much for all of the love on chapter one! hearing appreciation for my writing is what inspires me to create more. so thank you so much, and enjoy chapter two!!!!)

*****

It was strange. Billy usually found himself annoyed with people around 10 minutes into meeting them. Sometimes quicker, and that seemed to be happening more often in Hawkins than California.

Not with his new friends, though.

Lunch was actually fun. Jonathan had accepted him so quickly, immediately launching into a story about when he was locked in the bathroom during a fire drill. Billy felt like he could actually be himself, open up (very slightly as he didn’t really know these people) to the first people to be genuinely kind to him in years.

He’d met Robin while walking (Y/N) to her next class after lunch. Her ramblings were pretty funny and she wasn’t intimidated by the older boy. Actually, she seemed to embrace him rather quickly.

“All I’m saying is if you want my mom to like you, let her pay for the pizza. Otherwise, she’ll think you’re calling her poor.” They were discussing Saturday night, the day after Halloween.

“Can I give her some Halloween candy I stole from Mike, Lucas, Will, and Dustin?”

“Yeah, or we can just eat it.”

“Who’s that?” Billy spoke up for the first time in awhile.

“They’re these kids I babysit sometimes.” A code word for saving the world together. “Very sweet, but so annoying.”

“They come in sometimes to play with the puppies at work. Bye, dorks.” Robin added, waving goodbye as she walked off to her class.

“I never did ask where you work, by the way.” Billy double checked his schedule, trying to find the correct room. He had spent the majority of the previous day in the front office taking placement tests.

“You couldn’t see the logo on my scrubs last night?” (Y/N) teased, her tone light.

“It was obstructed by mud, doll.”

“I work at the animal shelter. You should definitely come by sometime.” She stopped walking, finally arriving at her class.

“This is your class?” Billy was grinning from ear to ear.

She nodded.

“Well, I think I won the lottery, princess. It’s mine, too.”

He followed his friend (he liked to think of her as one) inside, the bell ringing as he took a seat next to her. He took a moment to take in her side profile, the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her lips. Her eyelashes, which stuck out straight instead of curling up, hiding their length. Her hair was braided, falling over her shoulder. She chewed on her thumbnail as she waited for the teacher to come in.

She pretended she didn’t notice him staring.

“Hello, everyone. Sorry for being late.” An elderly lady walked in quickly. “Ms. Hopper, will you take attendance?”

(Y/N) was Mrs. Thompson’s absolute favorite. She had called the police once after she fell and became enamored with Hopper, who had come to check out the scene when his patrol officers were all busy. Hopper, having a heart of gold, decided to have dinner with the lonely old woman and he brought along his only daughter (at the time.) This had been years ago, and she couldn’t believe that the sweet little girl who she had made brownies with was in her class.

“While attendance is being taken, we have a new student in our class. Mr. Hargrove, will you please come to the front?”

Now, normally, Billy would have just sat there and flipped off the teacher. But (Y/N) looked at him in such an expectant, hopeful manner that he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint her. So, he brought himself to his feet and stepped to the front of the room.

“Hi. I’m Billy.” Mrs. Thompson smiled and placed a hand on his arm.

“Where are you from?”

“California.”

She nodded, letting go of him. Looking around the class, all the girls (except the only one he actually knew) looked absolutely ravenous as they drank in his physicality. Playing with their hair, chewing gum, sitting perched in just a way to make their breasts stick out. The dudes looked intimidated, but overall curious. He walked back to his seat, feeling slightly ridiculous, but any sense of embarrassment flew out of the window when (Y/N) flashed him a toothy grin and held out her fist for a bump.

He obliged.

*****

“What’s bothering you?” Robin slid up to her best friend, placing a caring hand on her back.

“What? Who said something’s wrong with me?”

“Uh, your expression? You’ve been frowning at that inventory report for the past 10 minutes. What’s up?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath.

“My dad didn’t come home last night. Do you think you could ask your mom to drive me by the station on your way home? I can ask one of the officers for a ride if he’s not there.” She chewed her thumbnail, eyes downcast. She hated asking for help.

“Of course! He’s probably just busy, you know? Although, it’s weird he didn’t call. But don’t you live out in like the middle of the woods? Do you guys even have a phone? Maybe he was getting laid! That’s gross. Although, he probably needs it.”

Listening to Robin brought a sense of rationality to (Y/N). Hopper was probably fine, and if she couldn’t find him today, she could ask Eleven to find him. Although, if something bad did happen to him, she really didn’t want El to see that. She’d seen enough bad shit, and it always made her feel bad to see her little sister’s nose bleed.

The shift carried on pretty gracefully. A chihuahua bit Robin, but she just laughed it off, and a new cat was found in the alley behind the local church. The dog food shipment was running late, so Robin had to call their supplier and chew them out, and the cat food supplier sent the wrong brand, so (Y/N) called them and complained as well.

At around 15 minutes until the end of their shift, the one and only Billy Hargrove strolled in.

“Evening, ladies.” He smiled as soon as he spotted them.

His smile seemed extremely perfected, like he had spent a pretty good amount of time in the mirror rehearsing it. She figured he had some stupid name for it, too, like ‘the Ladykiller’, or ‘the Pantysoaker’. It was manufactured to impress girls, not to actually show joy.

“Hello, Billy. Come to clean the kennels?” She chided, not looking up from her adoption reports.

“You know me so well. I love cleaning up dog shit.” He leaned against the counter and looked down at her papers. She snatched them away from his gaze.

“Confidential.”

“Yeah, you’d be fucked if I knew who adopted Mr. Mittens, huh?”

“Royally. Now, do you wanna see some dogs?”

He nodded and started to lead him to the back area where the dogs were kept. Robin just kept reading her book.

“Do you have any old dogs?” He wasn’t sure why, but he’d always had a soft spot for geriatric animals. His mother had an old ass border collie and as a kid, Billy would fall asleep on the dog nearly every night.

“Yeah! There’s this one dog, we don’t really know her breed, but I would guess she’s part lab part pitbull? Anyway, she’s around 10 and she’s so sweet and sleepy. She’s in the green room, actually.”

She felt excited, showing him a part of her life, even if visitors weren’t allowed to see dogs this late. There was something about him that just screamed out at her, begging her to keep digging and find out what he was keeping under the surface. Maybe it was the way he glanced around nervously but immediately mustered up the confidence of 10 men as soon as he realized he was caught.

Christ, she’d known him 2 days at this point and was already feeling poetic about the whole thing.

“Hello, Peach!” She knelt next to a tan and white dog that rested in the corner of her kennel. It was actually pretty spacious, and she had multiple toys and food bowls around the area.

“Her name is Peach?” He thought it suited her pretty well as the dog slowly walked over to (Y/N), legs shaky but eyes excited.

“Thank you! I picked it.” She unlocked the kennel door and stepped inside, waving Billy to follow.

They sat on the floor with Peach and spent a good amount of time loving on her. She very much appreciated it, especially when Billy scratched that one spot behind her ears. No words were said to each other, only loving phrases toward the old dog.

“Who’s a good girl? Are you a good girl? Aw, you’ve got such pretty eyes.” Billy cooed, losing all sense of cool as the dog’s tail wagged faster than ever. He knew (Y/N) wouldn’t judge him anyway, so he moved to where he was laying on the floor, both hands petting Peach.

“I hate to break up this absolutely adorable moment, but my shift ended 5 minutes ago. I really need to clock out or I’ll get in a ton of trouble.” (Y/N) stood, holding a hand out to help Billy up. He took it, mostly using his own legs to stand but appreciably smiling at her.

“I always forget how much I love dogs.” The smile didn’t leave his face as they left the green room. He waited for her she clocked out, watching her speak to Robin for a minute, seemingly arguing about something. He couldn’t help the way his ears picked up his own name.

“Just ask Billy!”

“No, he drove me yesterday.”

“You think he doesn’t want an excuse to parade that little Camaro around?!”

“You just don’t want to ask your mom to drive me.”

“I can want two things!”

Billy wondered if (Y/N)‘s dad didn’t come home again. He hadn’t even met the guy and his opinion of the police chief was starting to sour.

She walked up to him, her hands behind her back and chin up high. Her eyes were closed as if she was gathering courage and, unbeknownst to Billy, she was flipping Robin off behind her back.

“Hey, Billy. Look, I’m so sorry to ask you for this, but my dad didn’t come home again and I was just wondering if you could drop me by the police station? I can have an officer take me home, so don’t worry about that.”

Billy checked his watch. It was 7:10, and his curfew was 8 on school nights. He figured he could make it, and even if he didn’t, Neil could honestly go to hell. He’d just sleep in his car and deal with the consequences another day, hopefully on a day that Max had already fucked up.

“Sure, princess. You don’t have to look so embarrassed.” He winked and opened the passenger door for her. It took every ounce of willpower in his body not to look at her ass as she slid into the seat.

As he walked around and got into his own, she had already started hyperventilating.

“I am embarrassed because now my dad looks shitty when he’s actually wonderful, and I’m upset because I don’t know where he is, and I’m nervous because I’m just a nervous person in general, and I’m tired because I didn’t sleep last night waiting up for him, and I’m angry because he hasn’t fucking called, and this whole situation is just turning into a huge clusterfuck!” She slammed her hands on the dashboard and started crying.

“Hey, doll, it’s alright. We’re gonna head over there and check this shit out, alright?”

“I promise I’m not usually so needy.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were.”

Billy started to drive, already mostly knowing his way around the town after spending so much time just aimlessly driving. She turned the music up and hummed as she stared out the window.

She was absolutely terrified at the thought of Hopper being missing, of the Hawkins Lab shit coming back. She was even more terrified at the thought of taking care of Eleven by herself, something she was willing to do, but not exactly excited about.

Billy, on the other hand, was confused. He’d never enjoyed doing things for other people in California. He liked to keep to himself and pretend to care just enough to get laid. Honestly, the girls didn’t mind what he said much, anyway. They were honestly just as cruel to him as he was in return. He was just a hot bad boy to them, a way to rebel against society. Eventually, they’d all marry their band nerd high school sweetheart, and Billy would probably end up in jail or dead. At least, that’s what Neil loved to point out. ‘Walking STD’ was a favorite name of Neil’s, and Billy absolutely hated it.

“Thank you, Billy. Honestly.” She unbuckled and started to open the door, but stopped when Billy opened his own. “Why are you getting out?”

“I’m coming with. You know, in case something happened?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Her eyes were glassy, still not completely finished crying. His were intense and grounding as she steeled herself to enter the police station. She took a few deep breaths, still staring intently into his baby blues and she nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

They walked towards the double doors of the station and she gripped the sleeve of his denim jacket.

“Everybody knows me in here, so we should probably be able to tell what’s happening just based on their reactions.”

She took it as a good sign that no one had pulled her out of class with bad news.

“After you.” He pulled open the door for her and she stepped in.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing here?” The receptionist, Gloria, beamed at the pair.

“Hey, Gloria. Listen, my dad hasn’t been home in a few days and I was just curious if you’d seen him?”

“Oh, yes! He’s been hard at work with some infected pumpkins. It’s pretty silly if you ask me, but he’s been trying to get to the bottom of it. I think he’s actually in his office if you need him!”

“I’ll be in the car if you need me.” Billy sent (Y/N) a reassuring smile and left as she walked towards her dad’s office.

The door opened loudly, waking a sleeping Hopper at his desk.

“Are you kidding me? You don’t come home last night and when I come to find you you’re sleeping at your desk?” She was angry all over again, but still relieved he was okay.

“I told Gloria to call you at work so you could find a ride home.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“Well, clearly she didn’t! We were so worried about you! And I had to walk home, until some jackass splashed me and I got a ride!” She slammed her hands against his desk.

“From who?” He looked up from whatever the hell he was doing, now getting mad himself.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters—”

“It absolutely does matter. What, because you didn’t want to walk home, you’re gonna put her in danger?” There was a rule against saying Eleven’s name public.

“I was covered in muddy water and it was 45 fucking degrees outside!”

“Language! And I don’t care how cold you were, you could have put her in danger.”

“So, freezing to death isn’t danger? Walking 10 miles alone at night isn’t danger? Having a fucking—”

“Language.”

“—panic attack because I’m thinking you’re dead isn’t danger? You’re gonna put me at risk because you’re too lazy to actually call me yourself?!”

“I was walking around 3 different pumpkin patches for 5 hours last night. I told Gloria to call you. I did my job! You can not blame me for her not doing hers.”

“Your job is to be my father. When you remember that, we’ll be glad to have you home.”

She stormed out, slamming the door as hard as she could behind her, satisfied when she heard a picture frame fall off the wall. Walking as fast as she could, she carried herself out of the station and into the parking lot to where Billy was waiting.

He looked at her frazzled state as she entered the car. He could tell from her expression that things didn’t go well.

“Drive, please.”

*****

Hopper had returned at about 2 am, completely exhausted. He used his keys, not wanting to wake the girls as he let himself in.

He set down his keys and shrugged off his jacket before looking around. The TV was still on, but the girls were nowhere in sight. He ventured deeper into the house, stopping outside Eleven’s room. As he opened the door, his heart rate quickened when he noticed she wasn’t in there.

“Oh, fuck.”

He dashed into his older daughter’s room, sighing in relief as he saw both girls cuddled together in the bed. Eleven’s arms were wrapped tightly around her sister, their faces looking so peaceful as they slept. He took a moment to just stare at them and kneeled next to the bed. He took one of their hands each and just held them for a minute. He felt extremely guilty, especially for how he treated (Y/N) in his office. She was right. He should have called her himself, but he was caught up in the case again. He felt so ashamed for making her walk alone at night. He knew how dangerous it was out there, and he knew he could never forgive himself, even if nothing bad actually happened to her. He started to cry softly and kissed each girl’s hand.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I love you.”

He sat for a few more moments just reminiscing on all of the good moments he had with them. Driving (Y/N) to the zoo and seeing how absolutely batshit insane she went over all of the animals, baking a cake with Eleven, watching bad movies with the both of them way too late at night and laughing way too much. He wouldn’t ever take them for granted, and he would always come home to them.

He stood, walking towards the door.

“I love you, too.” (Y/N) spoke softly, snuggling into her sister even more as she went back to sleep.

He’d really hit the jackpot when it came to his daughters.

*****

The next day was Halloween, and no one at Hawkins High really acknowledged it besides a few parties happening that night. Billy had obviously been invited to them all, but Jonathan and (Y/N) hadn’t. Not that they cared, and even if they had been asked, they wouldn’t go. They were both planning on being with their younger siblings.

“Come on. I’ll even wear a matching costume with you.” Billy begged her.

“Where are you even going to get one? I’m pretty sure all the stores are sold out.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

“I’ll make one.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Since when can you sew?” Jonathan laughed, finally looking up from his homework.

“You really need to do your homework at night. I’m getting sick of seeing your chicken-scratch while I’m eating.” She lightly pushed the notebook, causing Jonathan to roll his eyes.

“Look, you guys come to the party with me for 10 minutes. Then I’ll drive you both home. Deal?”

She took a second to consider. She really did want to spend the evening with El. And having a night of fun with her family would be a good way to get over the argument with Hopper. But on the other hand, she had never been to a party. Steve had offered to bring her a few times, but she always declined.

She looked at Jonathan. The perk of being friends with someone for 10 years was being able to communicate with only the eyes.

He gave an ‘it’s up to you’ glance and went back to his work.

“5 minutes.”

“Deal.” Billy grinned.

*****

Hopper was actually very open to his daughter going to a party. He figured she needed to just let off some steam and be a teenager for awhile. Plus, he really didn’t want to watch whatever horror movie she would subject them to in the spirit of the holiday.

Billy pulled up to the cabin (rather, an area about 5 minutes of walking away, as Hopper didn’t want to risk anything) and couldn’t believe his luck as his eyes landed on her.

She was wearing a knee-length black dress with a light blue sweater over the top. It wasn’t revealing in the slightest, but the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the way he could see the reflection of the moon in her eyes was absolutely maddening.

He wasn’t wearing a costume either, just some jeans and a leather jacket. He opted for no shirt, a decision that didn’t really make sense for October, but a decision nonetheless.

He really couldn’t figure out what it was about her that was so amazing to him. He’d admired her honestly and wit, sure, and she was obviously beautiful. He liked how intwined with his own life she had become, and how she wasn’t ashamed of letting him in. He liked how he knew she would accept him no matter what. But he didn’t know what compelled him to stop that night, what made him insist on taking her home. He had never done something like that before. Fate, possibly, or divine intervention had to be it.

“Let’s get going. I plan on being back within the hour.” She gave him a wicked grin as she pulled open the door and slid into the increasingly familiar seat.

“Not even gonna tell me how beautiful I look?” He teased, putting the car into drive.

“Nah. You already know it.”

They talked for a bit on the drive, mostly just teasing back and forth and giving directions to Jonathan’s house. He wanted to reach over and grab her hand, her thigh, anything.

She, however, was very anxious about the whole thing. She didn’t want to go now that she was in the car, on the way. She was thinking of every possible bad scenario, everything that could go wrong.

“You okay?” Billy asked, turning onto Jonathan’s street.

“Just anxious.” She but her thumbnail.

“About?”

“What if there’s a pool and I get pushed in?”

“Why are you even thinking about that?” He parked beside the house she pointed at.

“Because that’s how my brain works.”

Jonathan walked out, Will in tow. They were laughing as they walked to the car and as she rolled down the window.

“Hey, guys, I’m just gonna take Will to Mike’s so he can go trick or treating. I’ll meet you there!” He smiled and turned around to his own car.

“Guess it’s just us for a bit, doll.” Billy grinned and sped off, secretly excited to spend a bit more time alone with her. It’s not that he didn’t like Jonathan. He really did, more than he expected to. It’s just, he really liked her too.

“Don’t get so excited. Five minutes and then we’re leaving.”

He didn’t really think she would only stay 5 minutes. Honestly, he really wanted to see what she was like around other people. Was the special treatment (like sharing lunches and crying in the car) reserved for him? Or was she like this with everyone? He certainly treated her better than he did most people.

“Sure, princess.”

*****

taglist:

@renaroo123 @maaciimoo @ria132love @lem0ns77 @krys-orion @dgrangaa

[0perfectimperfections0]

It's Okay

Okay, but imagining Lou reacting this way at the end of the movie for some reason breaks my heart more...

<><><><><>

The X reflected in his dull eyes. It didn't matter. He had imagined this dreadful day before, each scenario playing out a little differently. He had nightmares of this event, too. More often than not, each one ended in his death. Thrown into the furnace by his fellow dolls just because he was fake. Not real.

Worthless.

"You failed? How could you fail?"

His tongue rolled in his mouth, close to resorting to anger as a means of getting through these airheads. It would be wasted energy. He'd be dead in a few minutes, anyhow. "Yes, I failed. Just like I always will."

"B-But how?" Tuesday asked.

"I'm a prototype." His voice was oddly desolate of any emotion. He kept his gaze on the screen as it mocked him. It never usually stayed on the results for this long.

And, of course, the comments started coming. The dumb blue kept asking questions to ensure that her unhealthy obsession for him had not been in the wrong. Because no one would dare love a prototype.

"He ain't a real doll, girl."

Not real. Fake. She was right. It still hurt, but she was right. Lou's jaw clenched to keep it from quivering. He finally tore his eyes away from the screen to stare at the UglyDolls. Ox. Just Ox. The others could stuff themselves for all he cared. Oddly enough, the blonde gave a soft smile.

"He lied!"

"He forced us to be perfect!"

"He kept throwing us in the wash!"

"He's not even a real doll! What does he know about the Big World?"

Lou pretended like it didn't hurt. That's what he'd been doing all his life. Pretending. Faking not being a fake. Pretending he was real.

Pretending everything he did actually meant something to someone.

And in the end, he met the cold, ugly truth of reality that no matter how much he poured his knowledge into those dolls, they'd all turn against him in a heartbeat. A bunch of Peter's in the crowd denying the man that saved them so many times.

He walked up to the UglyDolls--to Ox, only Ox. A hand reached out to the bunny, face lax as if nothing had caused discourse between them. "Congratulations, you actually did it."

The crowd continued spatting remarks amongst themselves about the Perfect Doll.

Ox looked at the hand, confused, "You were never gonna come with me anyway to the Big World. Ya told me ya would when I first got here."

"Yes, well, sometimes we have to lie to stay on top."

A doll from the crowd bellowed above the cacophony of voices, "Let's see if he burns like a real doll!"

Lou didn't have to turn to sense the wave of accord that surpassed the crowd. The blonde gave a wry smile to the bunny, "Funny how the tables turn, huh?"

"Lou--"

"It's okay." Another soft smile. "Now that everyone knows, I don't have to spend every day trying to hide it. At any rate, I won't be trapped here anymore." Ox opened his mouth to object, but Lou interceded, "Don't make this harder than it has to be, bunny." There was no malice underlying his words. Just an eerily calm tone.

The mechanical dog sauntered up to them, growling down at Lou and nodding its head toward the crowd of livid dolls. He knew what would happen next.

"Wait!" Ox reached out again.

Lou held a hand up to stop him, "Enjoy the Big World. You've earned it." He walked on calmly as the dog pushed him forward. Without the context, one wouldn't think he was walking to his death.

Ox's ears fell limply behind him. "I...," his voice was barely a whisper, "I never wanted t' go without ya."

The blonde, surprising to the crowd, accepted his fate honorably. And, for any of them actually wondering.

He did, in fact, burn like a real doll.