#if we fail it will not be through my doing

[y3sterdaysproblem]

⤷𝙛𝙬𝙗!𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚

 ⤷ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ; 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤!𝘧𝘸𝘣!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘹 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤!𝘧𝘸𝘣!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

{texts above are relevant to story}

cw: alcohol consumption

“chris!” you exclaim excitedly as you see the familiar blacked out bmw pulling up on the curb, pulling yourself up from the stairs you sat at outside the house you somehow ended up at. you were under the impression you and your friend would just be at her house, but when you ended up at a party with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, you knew you had to get somewhere you knew to ride out your drunken state.

he’s not even out of the car when you’re running up to the car and to the passenger door, trying to pull it open but failing miserably. “hey, chill,” chris says to you as he circles around the car, pulling the door open for you. “how much have you had to drink?” he questions as he watches you flop into the seat, the whole car wobbling from the force.

“umm,” you drawl out, turning your head up to look at him, eyes unfocused and darting around. “i’m not sure! maybe… nine drinks?”

chris’s eyes widen in shock as he looks down at you, noticing how hard it was for you to lock eyes with him. “nine drinks?” he asks, desperate to clarify.

“maybe more,” you mumble with a small shrug. “can we get like… taco bell or something?”

chris sighs and shuts the door on you, coming back around to the driver’s side and getting in. once he’s settled, he turns back to look at you again, seeing the messed up hair on the top of your head and the way your clothes seemed a little disheveled. he wonders for a split second if your state was fully to do with alcohol, or if somebody had put something in your drink without you noticing.

“yeah, we can get food,” he says, but doesn’t make any effort to move. “did someone slip something in your drink?”

“what?” you say, slinging your head around to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “think my drinks were just really strong.” you finally say when you process his words.

“okay,” chris nods, eyes scanning over your face to see if you were alright. “are you gonna throw up or anything?”

you laugh and wave a hand at him dismissively, shaking your head. “no!” you say, reaching forward to place your hand on his chest. “you know i’m not a bitch.”

chris laughs and grabs your hand, bringing it back over to your own lap. “didn’t say you were a bitch, just asking if you need a bag or something. don’t want you puking in my car.”

you narrow your eyes at him and turn your body in your seat, crossing your arms. “you called me a raging bitch the other day,” you huff, raising your eyebrows sassily.

he’s not having any of it, not wanting to play into your confrontational switch, so he turns his body back to the steering wheel and puts the car in drive, pulling away from the curb. “because you were being a raging bitch,” he says calmly, eyes scanning over the road as he sets out on the route back to his place.

“what, because I wasn’t with you?” you ask defensively, feeling heat starting to rise up your neck, getting worked up over something that wasn’t even a big deal. “am I supposed to ask you for permission every time I want to fuck somebody else?”

chris’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, jaw tensing at your words. he had to remind himself that you were only saying all of this because of the alcohol, but part of him wanted to fight back, wanted to put you in your place. “definitely not,” he responds lowly, eyes locked in front of him. “you really need to stop and think about what you’re going to say next.”

you scoff out a laugh and roll your eyes, turning back to sit straight in your seat, arms still crossed as you stare out through the windshield now as well, eyes still trying to focus on the road as it disappeared under the car. “still want food,” you mumble, lips pursed in a childlike pout. “you’ll get your food, just sit there and be quiet,” chris responds, reaching forward to turn the volume up to drown out anything you might say. you wanted to protest, but the heavy weight on your eyelids started to take over, and within the next minute you were asleep.

it felt like seconds had passed when the passenger door was being opened and chris was reaching down to touch your shoulder, shaking you lightly. “hey,” he said softly, trying to rouse you awake. “dude, get up,” he says louder, shaking you harder. you let out a groan as you come back to your senses, forcing your eyes open once again. “come on, let’s go inside so you can go to bed.”

you take another couple of moments to ground yourself and remember where you are, but you eventually swing your legs to your side and use every surrounding method of support to help you out of the car, feeling drunker than you did when you first got into it. “I feel awful,” you mumble once you’re standing in the driveway, reaching your hands up to rub over your face. chris just laughs and shuts the door before he wraps an arm around your waist and guides you up towards his apartment, his grip on you tight to keep you standing straight.

after stumbling up a couple flights of stairs and leaning on the wall while he unlocked the door, you both finally make it into his place and you immediately try kicking your shoes off, groaning when they don’t slip off with ease. chris chuckles at you again and crouches down to grab your foot to stop you, unlacing your shoes for you. “you’re a fucking mess,” he comments, straightening back up once both of your shoes were off, taking in your appearance.

your hair looked tangled from running your hands through it, and the way that it fell in front of your face made him realize you weren’t even aware of how messy it looked, your purse hadn’t even made it inside, left to spend the night in his car, and your makeup was smudged all around your eyes, already looking days old.

“you’re a mess,” you shoot back, bringing a hand up to poke him in the chest. “I am just… fucking…” you look down at yourself and groan, hands coming up to claw at your top. “get me out of this fucking corset.”

chris grabs your hands and pulls them away from your shirt, turning your body to guide you into his room. “alright, we’ll get you out of these clothes and you can pass out, yeah? sound good?”

you nod, more to yourself than anything as you walk into his room, immediately pushing away from him and going towards his bed, falling onto it face first. chris shuts the door behind him and comes to stand next to his bed, reaching down to rest a hand on the bare part of your back. “do you want to take your clothes off or sleep like this?” he asks, leaning down a bit so he could hear your muffled voice against his comforter, but between your slurring and your mouth buried in the blankets, he couldn’t make out your response, so he carefully rolls you over as to not jostle your stomach too much. “what’d you say?”

“off,” you repeat in a moan, laying limp on the bed with your head tilted to the side, eyes still closed.

“okay,” chris responds, his hands reaching out towards the button on your jeans. your head immediately pops up and looks down at his hands, then his face.

“woah, woah, woah!” you exclaim, reaching down with one hand to push his away frantically. “i’m drunk, chris!”

chris looks up at you with one eyebrow raised, moving to rest both hands on your thighs, your skin touching through the large rips in the fabric. “uh huh,” he nods, sliding his hands back up your hips. “which is why i’m taking your clothes off so you can go to bed,” he tells you in a slow, calm voice, like he’s explaining something to a little kid.

“oh,” you say in understanding, flopping back down onto the bed. “am I sleeping here?” you ask him as you feel his hands starting to undo your pants again.

“yeah,” he answers, pulling your jeans down and off of your legs, leaving you in your panties and a corset he can’t even begin to understand how to remove. “gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t puke on your back or something.”

“ew,” you answer, eyes staring up at the ceiling, providing no help for chris as he undressed you. he reaches down and scoops his arms underneath you to pull you into a sitting position, to which you groan in disapproval. “wanna lay down.”

“I know, but I need to get this… fuckass shirt off of you first.” chris is clueless as he stares down at it, although he doesn’t mind the view too much. he sees what look like latches at the front of the shirt, and he can’t help but wonder why somebody would wear this to go out drinking unless they expected to sleep in it that night. “i’m about to just cut this shit off of you.” he huffs.

“no!” you whine, reaching out to grab his shirt while you tilt your head up to look at him, eyes pleading. “don’t cut my clothes pleeease,” you drawl, tugging on his shirt. “i’ll show you how to take it off, c’mon, you’ve taken my clothes off like a hundred times.”

he couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head in disbelief at your words, but then he agrees and gestures to the corset, ready to learn. “alright, show me then.” he says, taking a step back to watch. you look down at the corset and groan a bit, hands coming up to squeeze the sides together. “just… push it… together… and undo it.” chris watches for a moment, and he thinks he understands, so he steps back up to you and starts to unclasp your shirt, eventually getting it off and leaving you on his bed in just your underwear. you gasp in a deep breath at the relief and flop back down, eyes closing instantly. “so much better,” you breathe out.

chris tosses the corset on the ground and keeps his eyes locked on you, trailing over your body. he admires you in a way he doesn’t think he ever has before, taking in your vulnerable state and recognizing the level of trust you must have in him to not only ask him for a ride, but to lay here so drunk you couldn’t even undress yourself and know that he wouldn’t do anything to harm you. it sent a shiver down his spine, and he had to pull his eyes away from you before he thought too hard about it, turning towards his dresser to grab a shirt for you to sleep in.

he walks back to his bed once he finds an old shirt that he knew fell past your hips, seeing you curled up on your side and most definitely almost asleep, if you weren’t already. he reaches down and pulls the shirt over your head, maneuvering your body through the shirt until he pulls it down on your torso, covering you up. you’re pretty malleable like this, so he grabs your body and slides you up on the bed and under the blankets, finally letting out a sigh of relief when you’re tucked in.

chris runs his hands over his face for a moment before he turns and gets himself changed as well, which just consisted of taking off the clothes he had thrown on to pick you up, leaving him in just his boxers. he debated sleeping on the couch, or the floor, or anywhere that wouldn’t be in your line of fire if your body decided to throw up, but ultimately he talked himself into just sliding into bed next to you, making sure to keep his distance on his side of the mattress.

his efforts didn’t last long, though, because not even a few minutes after he laid down, you were turning your body to face him and scooting closer until you could wrap your arm around his waist and rest your head on his chest, letting out a small sigh of contentment.

chris is taken aback at your action, his arm that’s now around you extended out in discomfort, not knowing what to do in this situation. you guys weren’t cuddlers, it wasn’t a part of your routine when you would sleep together. lay in the same bed and catch your breath, sure, but cuddling was never in the cards, so he couldn’t help the way his heart picked up at your newfound closeness. it almost felt more intimate than being inside you, like you guys had crossed a line he didn’t even know was drawn.

you let out another soft breath, nuzzling your face further into him as you settled in, not noticing his disconcertment. “chris?” you mumble suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he hums, letting you know he’s listening. “if you just let yourself open up, you’d be a really good boyfriend to somebody someday.”

your words are clearer than they have been all night, and it makes chris’s ears ring and his face go pale, though it’s undetectable in the dark bedroom. he doesn’t answer, unable to find a good enough response, and he deems it unnecessary when he hears small snores coming from your parted lips, like you hadn’t just said something that was going to send him into a spiral for the remainder of the night.

he finally lets his hand come down and rest on your back, staring at the ceiling as he thinks over what you said, trying not to focus on your body weight resting on his, and the way your manicured hand sat peacefully on his stomach while you slept.

you’d be a really good boyfriend to somebody someday.

he found that hard to believe.

a/n: they’re becoming REAL

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44

[tobiasdrake]

Protestant Work Ethic.

Culturally, Americans have been brought up to believe that the act of labor is in and of itself a moral virtue. That work is not a means to the end of achieving a material outcome or the end of acquiring compensation, but a means to the end of demonstrating intrinsic virtue and earning your place in Heaven.

The Protestant Work Ethic is very convenient for capitalists, and so business eagerly propagates it. How many times have you heard, "We don't want people who are just gonna clock in, do their forty hours, and then go home. We want people who are motivated to go above and beyond their job duties!"

Why would anybody want to do that? Why would actually want to work unpaid overtime or take on extra responsibilities beyond the scope of their job that they will not be compensated for?

Well, because that's demonstrating the moral virtue of work ethic. Capitalist propaganda promises a slightly different reward. Rather than the Kingdom of Heaven, capitalism dangles the possibility of future promotions and rising through the corporate ranks some day as your incentive to do all that extra work today.

But it's the same. And in a country that's 43% Protestant specifically, it speaks to the values that many American Christians are already raised to believe: That your purpose in being alive is to suffer, to persevere, and through that perseverance, to demonstrate the moral virtue that will earn your way into Heaven.

My dad used to say, "If you have to shovel shit, you go out there and be the best damn shit shoveler they've ever seen. You do that, and you won't be shoveling shit for very long." This, in my experience, is not an opinion that is well-founded in the reality of labor economics. It's just the same ephemeral promise: Work diligently without complaint and one day your labors will be rewarded.

It's the Problem of Evil. Evil must exist because if evil did not exist then good people could not demonstrate their goodness and earn their place in Heaven. So the goal must never be to eliminate evil. A lot of people don't understand why you would even want that. If we didn't have poverty then how would we have charity?

In the same way, Americans are raised to be grateful to their capitalist overlords for bestowing on them the opportunity to thanklessly demonstrate work ethic.

This is why Americans get more pissy about "stealing jobs" and "automation" and "globalization" than they do about wage theft and anti-labor practices. The implicit contract between the classes is not that the underclass will do work and the upper class will pay them for it. It's that the upper class will provide the underclass with opportunities to demonstrate work ethic, and the underclass will compensate the upper class for it.

To many Americans, they are not paying us for our labor. We are paying them for providing us with jobs. And when those jobs are taken away from us, we get upset. We don't want a society where we all live comfortably and don't have to work, because having opportunities to do work is the sole purpose of the economy in the eyes of many Americans.

This is also why Americans see a robust system of welfare as enabling moral failure. If demonstrating work ethic gives you value as a human being, then what does that say about people who aren't working? Why should my tax dollars got to support people who are, by definition, demonstrating immorality by not working? Am I to reimburse gamblers who blew all their money on poker chips next?

Do note that, like many things, racism is also a key player in all this. Demonizing people for failing to demonstrate work ethic has its roots in rich white people furious that their slaves would desire freedom over working in their plantations. Blasting the underclass as "lazy" if they don't want to do slave labor is a tale older than United States history.

But it's all interconnected. The intermarriage of the Protestant Work Ethic and capitalist interests has woven a wide net over the way Americans think about the economy and labor.

[woozinhos]

wonwoo keeping his hair long because he knows you love to pull his hair during sex

Wonwoo had noticed the way you always loved to run your fingers through his hair and tug on it during intimate moments. He had also noticed the way your eyes lingered on his long hair, and he couldn't help but wonder if you had a particular thing for it. So, he decided to keep his hair long for a while, just to see what would happen. And he wasn't disappointed.

Every time you touched his hair, you would tug on it just a little bit, sending shivers down his spine. He would feel your fingers tangling in the strands, pulling just enough to make him gasp. And during sex, he could tell that you loved having something to hold onto. You would bury your hands in his hair, using it to guide him as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

Wonwoo secretly loved it too. The feeling of your hands tugging on his hair was intoxicating, and it always drove him wild. He would let out a low growl as you pulled, his hips thrusting harder and faster as he lost himself in the pleasure. Wonwoo loved the way you used his hair to control him, to take control of the situation. He would surrender to your touch, allowing you to guide him however you wanted.

One night, as you lay tangled together in bed, Wonwoo turned to look at you with a sly smile on his face. "You know, I've been keeping my hair long for a reason," he said, his voice low and husky.

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips. "Oh really? And what reason is that?"

Wonwoo chuckled and reached up to run his fingers through your hair. "I know how much you love to play with it," he replied, his hand moving down to the nape of your neck. "And I love it when you pull it during sex."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, a flush spreading across your cheeks. "You do?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Wonwoo chuckled again and pulled you closer to him, his hand still playing with the hair at the back of your neck. "Oh yeah," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "I love the way you lose control when you pull my hair. The way you arch up into me, the way you moan..."

He nibbled on your earlobe, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin. "It drives me crazy," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

“How about you eat me out and we can test that theory,” You say smirking. Wonwoo’s eyes darkened at your words, a low growl escaping his throat. "With pleasure," he said, his voice thick with lust. He rolled you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a fierce intensity.

As he kissed you, his hands roamed over your body, touching and caressing every inch of you. He broke the kiss and began to trail kisses down your neck, his lips leaving a burning path down your skin. He continued to kiss and nibble his way down your body, stopping to pay special attention to your sensitive spots. He lingered at your breasts for a while, sucking and biting on your nipples until you were writhing beneath him. Finally, he reached his destination, settling himself between your legs. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I could look at you like this all day."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, his lips teasingly close to where you wanted him most. He could see the way your body was trembling with anticipation, and it only made him more eager to give you what you wanted.

"You're already so wet for me," he whispered, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. "I can't wait to taste you."

Wonwoo slowly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them aside as he settled himself between your thighs. He leaned in and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your arousal.

"You smell amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He leaned in and gently ran his tongue along your folds, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He let out a low moan of appreciation, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he began to devour you. He licked and sucked at your sensitive flesh, his tongue moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you gasping and writhing beneath him. He knew exactly how to use his mouth to drive you wild, and he took his time, enjoying every moment of it.

Wonwoo moaned softly as you buried your hands in his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands. He loved the feeling of your hands on him, especially when you pulled on his hair like this. He increased the pace of his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit with renewed intensity. He could feel you getting closer to the edge, your body tensing beneath him as you neared your climax.

He looked up at you through his lashes, his eyes burning with desire. "Come for me," he whispered against your skin, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault on your sensitive flesh. Wonwoo let out a low groan as you pulled his hair harder, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue working even faster and harder as he tried to bring you to your peak. He could feel your body trembling beneath him, your thighs clenching around his head as you neared your release. He knew you were close, and he wanted to push you over the edge.

"Come for me," he repeated, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let go for me, baby."

As you tugged on his hair and pulled him closer, Wonwoo couldn't help but grind against the bed. The feeling of your hands in his hair, your body writhing beneath him, and the taste of you on his tongue was driving him crazy.

He let out a strangled moan as he rutted against the bed, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache in his own body. He could feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, the sensation almost unbearable.

“I’m gonna cum Wonwoo please,” You moan arching back.

Wonwoo heard your breathy declaration and increased the pace of his tongue even more. He knew you were close, and he was determined to push you over the edge. He focused all his attention on your clit, licking and sucking at it with a relentless determination. He could feel your body tensing up, your thighs clenching around his head as you neared your climax.

Wonwoo felt your body shudder as you reached your peak, your release crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. He continued to lap at your clit, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm as you came apart beneath him. He moaned against your skin, his own body tensing as he felt your release flood his senses. He couldn't help but grind against the bed even harder, desperate for some kind of release himself. Wonwoo finally pulled away from you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up at you with a satisfied smile, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

"You taste amazing," he said, his voice still rough from desire.

He crawled up your body and collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply as he held you close.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "I love the way you lose control like that."

You cuddled into his chest, feeling content and sated after your intense orgasm. Wonwoo held you close, his hand stroking your hair as he nuzzled against your neck.

"You know, I think I'm going to have to keep my hair long from now on," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just so you can keep pulling it like that."

[rafecameronsslxt]

Professor Cameron

Professor! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: A semster passes full of intense, seductive looks you finalize the first touch between Professor Cameron and you.

Warnings: Smut, taboo themes, taboo nicknames, light choking, fingering, sex

It's been such a long time since I've wrote.

Masterlist

Maybe opening my legs to a professor during class was not the most ethical way of going about my erotic fantasy but our attraction was not one-sided. When Professor Cameron asked questions seemingly to the whole class, why would his eyes linger on me only to answer it? When I would stay after class to inquire questions about what he assigned with quite revealing clothes why would he call me gorgeous and freely let his eyes sip me in? The way Professor Cameron would walk back and forth trying so hard to keep his eyes off his student, who is forbidden, had me aroused in more ways than imaginable.  

I could feel my white skirt ride up my thighs revealing my white lace panties. I knew Professor Cameron was looking by the stutter in his lecture talking about marketing. I wanted his greedy, lustful eyes to need more of me. I could see the sweat beads forming on his forehead, the gel in his hair failing as strands of his curtain bangs fell to the front, and the tense form of his posture. I had forgotten all about the lecture.  

I feel a tug on my dirty blonde knowing it is my friend Freya. “Focus on writing down notes and the lecture not prof. Cameron you slut.” She whisper-yells in my ear with a small teasing smile on her face. I sigh yet analyze the projector for missing information to type down which seems my busy mind has missed all the information of this marketing lecture. At the end of class I watched Professor Cameron run a hand through his hair and see his black silky button-up shirt, a button near the top not buttoned and his expensive looking dress pants. What could a handsome young man be doing in a lecture hall filled with stressed young adults?  

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could stay after class for a moment?” Professor Cameron inquired. We watched the students filter out of the classroom until there was no one left to hear our conversation. I packed away my laptop, walking to Professor Camerons desk a smile seductive smile plastered on my red lips. “Yes, Professor Cameron? Something wrong?” I ask too innocently. I watch his red face stare at me trying to calculate his words correctly. “What you are doing is inappropriate.” His serious words and stern face make me feel a bit intimidated, but I am not one to back down. “I’m not doing anything. My skirt may have been riding up accidentally but maybe you should not have been looking.” He scoffs at my excuse too knowingly. Professor Cameron steps closer to me and my legs hit the cold wood of the long desk. I’m forced to sit on it, my skirt riding up once again this time fully. “Months have gone by with you wearing these slutty, revealing outfits for me. Months that I have let you have this control over me. You must feel powerful, huh, sweetheart?” Professor Cameron whispers condescendingly and seductively in my ear. I feel his warm hands on my thighs, rubbing up and down slowly getting further up each time. “You're telling me you don’t like this? How I get you turned on during class and no one else knows besides you and me.” I sound like I'm asking but I’m not because I already know he loves the sexual glances or slutty skirts for him. I begin to feel his hard-on through the expensive black dress pants until I hear Freya calling my name. Quickly Professor Cameron steps away from me and I stand up fixing my skirt. I clear my throat, grab my bag, and quickly walk away from the professor.  

Freya is star-struck as I walk up to her. Jaw-dropped and in complete shock is what she tells me. “What the actual fuck!? Were you just hooking up with THE Professor Cameron? The one you’ve been crushing on this entire year???” Freya practically yells too everyone walking past. “Oh my gosh Freya shut up. I’m serious. If this gets out-” she cuts me off instantly “You’re my best friend. You know you can trust me. It's not like you haven’t gone on and on about how hot he is for months now.” She says rolling her eyes and I’m relieved I feel like I can trust her. “Sorry you’re right. Everything is so jumbled right now. How am I supposed to go to class tomorrow when he was touching me like that?” I say still in disbelief of the events that have played out today. We head back to our dorm as I spill the complete details of what happened but when night falls, I start to get anxious about everything that could happen tomorrow.  

I wake up throwing on a more business casual style consisting of beige trousers and a corset top that ties at the shoulders forming a bow. I could not put anything too wild today considering my nerves of seeing Professor Cameron had been shot. Freya and I walk to class slowly but surely as she is my support. Unfortunately, she sits behind me and I’m in the front row. Professor Cameron hasn’t shown up yet but by the time I think get lucky he’s at the front of the lecture hall turning on the projector. I hold my breath when he looks up around the class, his eyes not daring to set on me. It makes me feel upset that he isn’t acknowledging me even when he starts the lecture. I don’t get a glance or when I raise my hand for a question it’s like he doesn’t even see me. Class ends and I give Freya a heads up I will be a few and we’ll meet later.  

Professor Cameron is sitting at his desk, unmoving, until I speak up. “You decide to ghost me today?” I ask tensely, keeping a place in my own seat. He finally looks at me. The first time today. “This is practically illegal Y/F/N. I shouldn’t have touched you like that yesterday and kept our distance.” My heart drops. I can tell he’s lying. He doesn’t mean what happened yesterday was a mistake. “Stop. You don’t get to say that. All these long months and after one touch you give up? NO, you can’t do that, please.” My voice is small and on the verge of tears. Rafe’s face softens up. “If I touch you again, we’ll do bad things princess.” His raspy voice vibrates through me to the right places. “Maybe you should.” I leave it at that, and he walks over.  

Rafe motions for me to crawl over the desk. My legs are now hanging off the desk and Rafe pulls my hips closer to him letting me feel how hard his cock is. His big hand rests on my jaw forcing me to look up into his cerulean eyes, ones I could get lost in forever. I press my sweet, soft red lips to his. Rafe slides his tongue in my mouth and the kiss became hungrier as I grinded against him. I ran my hands through his already messy hair deepening the dirty kiss more. He pulls back a splotchy red face from our passionate kiss. “Is it okay if I take off your top baby?” The question takes me aback. It’s not what I’d expected, or I've gotten to use to horny guys. I nod with a sweet smile. Rafe slowly pulls a sheer string to the shoulder parts of my corset top. He bends down kissing my neck down to my collarbone leaving little love bites all the while being gentle to unzip the back of the corset. I moan out softly at the sweet and sexy feeling of his mouth gliding down my neck. Once the corset is off, I unbutton his white-collar shirt and begin kissing down his abs placing each kiss softly until I’m at the hem of his blank dress pants.  

I give him a deceiving sexual grin as I kiss Rafe’s hard cock through his pants. I look up at him seeing his red complexion and coarse grunts while I tease him. “Does my favorite professor like this?” I question coming back face to face. Rafe nods pressing his hot lips back to my neck making me fall back onto the desk. He brings his lips back to mine and begins unbuttoning my trousers, pulling them off, and rubs his warm fingers over my pink laced panties. I can feel how wet I am by the lace panties sticking to me and when Rafe says, “Fuck are you always this much of a whore for your professors?” I moan too loudly, pushing myself closer into his fingers needing more than this. Rafe grabs my jaw forcing me to look at him. “Answer me princess.” He says sternly now pushing my panties to the side lightly sliding his finger through my folds teasing my clit with each brush which compels a soft whimper out of me. “No professor Cameron I’m only your dirty secret.” With that response he shoves his middle finger in me. An unwarranted pornographic moan comes from my mouth clearly turning my professor on even more. Rafe’s middle and index finger are now quickly sliding in and out as well as repressed moans from me, so I don’t alert anyone to come into the lecture hall considering how big it is and voices bounce off the walls. “I need more Professor, please.” I beg as I begin to spasm around Rafe’s long fingers on the edge of releasing.  

On the brink of release his needed fingers disappear from inside of me. I moan out no, practically begging Professor Cameron to keep using his fingers. “Such a good little student laying down-” Professor Cameron pauses and I hear him unbuckling his belt, pants dropping, and suddenly feeling his cock brush my entrance. He glides his hard cock through my wetness and continues “taking this cock like such an obedient student.”  

As much as I try to be quiet I physically can’t when my professor pounds me into the table on my back and legs around his waist feeling every inch of his cock inside my tight pussy. Professor Cameron wraps his large hand around my throat leaning down to give me deep, passionate yet sloppy kisses and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. My hands find his back nails digging into his muscular shoulders. “Fuck Professor it feels so good,” I drone off with a moan and my nails scratching down his back my boobs bouncing with each thrust of his cock. I hear Rafe groan whispering in my ear how good I’m taking him such a seductive, sweet, soft whisper.  

“I’m so close Professor,” My eyes roll, nails dragging along my professors back, and spasming around his hard cock. A loud sweet moan comes from my messy swollen lips and a few seconds after me I feel Professor Camerons hot cum fill me up. He pulls out sitting on the long desk table beside me, breathing heavily. I keep my naked, sweaty body on the table for a few minutes, taking this warm feeling in. “That was amazing.” Professor Cameron in his euphoric mind states and I couldn’t agree more.  

Professor Cameron brings me my clothes with a soft kiss. “We’ll have to do this again Professor” I say with a little laugh.   

[gracie-eilish]

can’t get over you…

an: oh the things i would do for a billie eilish hug tonight.

summary: it’s your ex best friends birthday… but billie is there to make everything better.

The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the rain pattering against the windows. You sat curled up on the couch, your phone in your hands, scrolling through Instagram stories with a knot in your chest. Every smiling face, every heartfelt caption, every “Happy Birthday” post felt like a fresh wound.

It was her birthday. Your ex-best friend.

The sting of betrayal, the anger at how she’d hurt you, and the sadness of missing her all swirled together in your chest, threatening to break you apart.

You didn’t hear Billie enter the room until the couch dipped beside you. The faint scent of her perfume—vanilla and sandalwood—wrapped around you before her voice did.

“Hey,” she said softly, her blue eyes locking on yours. “What’s going on baby?”

You hesitated, wiping at your eyes quickly, though it was no use. Tears were already streaming down your cheeks. Billie leaned closer, her hand finding your knee. “Talk to me,” she coaxed gently.

“It’s her birthday,” you finally choked out, your voice thick with emotion. “And everyone’s posting about her—like she didn’t completely destroy me.”

Billie’s face softened instantly. She shifted closer, her hand sliding from your knee to your hand, lacing your fingers together. “Oh, love,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing.

You sniffled, squeezing her hand as your voice cracked. “I feel so stupid for still being this upset. She’s not even in my life anymore, and I shouldn’t care, but I do. And seeing everyone love her like this… it just—it hurts so much.”

“You’re not stupid,” Billie said firmly, squeezing your hand back. “Not even a little bit. She hurt you, and it’s okay that it still hurts. It’s okay to feel angry, and sad, and everything in between. You don’t have to be over it just because time’s passed.”

“I hate it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I hate that she’s not here anymore, but I also hate how much it still affects me. I thought I was past this.”

“Baby,” Billie said softly, her other hand cupping your cheek and tilting your face toward hers. “Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line. Some days, you’re fine, and then days like this come along, and it feels like you’re back to square one. That’s normal. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or failing—it just means you’re human.”

Her thumb brushed gently across your cheek, catching a tear as it fell. “Let yourself feel it, okay? You don’t have to fight it. I’m here. Cry if you need to.”

Her words broke something loose inside you, and the tears came freely now, spilling down your face as sobs wracked your body. Billie didn’t pull away or try to hush you. She just slid closer, wrapping her arms around you and holding you tight.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered into your hair, her voice steady and calm. “Let it out, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

You buried your face in her chest, gripping the soft fabric of her hoodie like a lifeline. “I just miss her so much,” you admitted through your tears. “I miss the person she was before everything went wrong. I miss what we had.”

“I know,” Billie said, her hand stroking your back in slow, soothing circles. “Of course you do. Losing someone like that… it’s like losing a part of yourself. It’s okay to miss her, even if she hurt you. That doesn’t make you weak—it makes you someone who loves deeply.”

Her words sank in slowly, the weight of her love wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You cried until the storm inside you began to quiet, your sobs softening into hiccups as you rested against her.

After a while, Billie leaned back slightly, her fingers brushing through your hair. “Feeling a little lighter?” she asked gently, her voice full of care.

You nodded weakly, your cheek still pressed against her chest. “Yeah… a little.”

Billie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Good. Because I need you to know something, okay?”

“What?” you murmured, tilting your head to meet her gaze.

Her eyes were soft but unwavering, her expression full of love. “You are so loved,” she said firmly. “By me, by everyone who truly knows you. And that love? It’s real. It’s steady. It’s not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. “Billie…”

She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. “I’m serious, baby. You’re everything to me. So if a piece of your heart feels chipped tonight, it’s okay—I’ll be here to help glue it back together, just like I always have.”

Her words broke through the lingering heaviness, and a soft laugh escaped you. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”

“Nah,” Billie teased, grinning as she kissed your nose. “I just love you too much to let you feel like this alone. You deserve to be reminded how incredible you are.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of her love settling deep in your chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, lucky for you,” she said, her arms tightening around you, “you’ll never have to find out.”

Her lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss, her touch reassuring and full of love. When she pulled back, she smirked. “Now, let’s do something to distract you. Wanna watch a movie? Or bake cookies? Or I could serenade you—though I’m not promising it’ll be good.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and genuine for the first time that night. “Anything, as long as I get to stay like this. In your arms.”

Billie’s grin softened, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “Then we’ll stay right here. I’ve got all night, baby. Whatever you need, I’m yours.”

And as the rain continued to fall outside, you rested in Billie’s embrace, the ache in your chest fading bit by bit. You weren’t fully healed—some wounds took time. But with Billie’s love and patience, you knew you’d get there.

Because you were loved. Deeply, endlessly, and without question. And that love was enough to keep you going, one day at a time.

🩵🌙☁️🫧✨

can’t get over you,

no matter what i do.

i know i should but i could never hate you.

[noseboopsanddandelionwishes]

I feel like some of the reason that generative AI and AI tools have become popular and that things like this seem to be helpful, is the focus on completing or finishing something.

We don't necessarily get credit just for showing up to class; we also have to pass the test. The goal is only met when the website page is written and published.

In some instances and scenarios, using completion as a metric is understandable, but to experiment with other metrics of value, I have been trying to allow for areas where that doesn't matter. And just allow to try and fail, or get better, or just do the process because then I'm doing it.

I play guitar though I have no plans to play anything at all - but I put my fingers on the fretboard and experimented with what made sound. I bake a cookie recipe and chase the flavor or texture as the whim takes me and sometimes change it 10 times before the end result.

When the goal becomes "finish the book", then having it summed up makes perfect sense. The goal being "hear the author and their turn of phrase even if it's strange" or "sympathise with the characters and feel their journey" it's different.

Have you ever read lyrics before hearing a song? I don't know if it's just me, but they make no bloody sense when I do. And sometimes it's a song I know, and I read the lyrics and they fall flat, have zero impact, and are completely indecipherable. But when spaced out, set to instrument, emphasized in certain ways, suddenly many meanings emerge as each phrase is sung.

Idk, I think it's kind of like that?

But when I'm just trying to quickly absorb the meaning of the song through the lyrics, I miss the meaning of the song - but I did take in all the lyrics.

Making completed works, and getting good grades, and making products - all emphasize that the only value is after something is finished. So, I kind of get the push for tools to help us finish things quicker, so we achieve the thing.

But sometimes I think we need the space to not do that, and have it be valued - the work in progress, or even just the partially executed ideas, starts of things, and random trails that lead nowhere in the end but were a part of the experience. Running through hypotheticals and discarding choices and only making it 70% of the way through a course. There is no closed loop, or job well done, or finale. But they still matter and added to and enriched my life and sometimes prepared me for some other thing.

what is HAPPENING

[lemon-shark-gamer]

The Genshin Impact fandom is fascinating to me when it comes to fanfics, because I feel like I struggle to find any fics that really *get* the characterization of certain characters and I'm loathed to write my own because dammit I just want to read the specific itch I crave without resorting to creating it. Give me three more months and I'll cave in.

For example, Diluc is one of my favorites and I find his backstory fascinating in terms of his father Crepus possibly being more morally ambiguous than most fans are willing to admit and how little we know of Diluc's murder spree in Snezhnaya.

For example which Harbinger(s) did he have a run-in with? Will we find out more about the secret intelligence network that took him in, that he apparently had a high position in? Did he ever find the answers he was searching for? The list goes on.

It's hard for me to find the specific characterization of him I crave for in fics because I think his platonic relationship with Kaeya is incredibly nuanced and complex but I feel like his character often gets assassinated for Kaeya angst but like, the man had the worst birthday ever?

Imagine being Diluc, living through a literal worst nightmare. Your dad is dead after you failed to protect him yourself. Not only is your dad dead but he died after wielding a delusion--you dont even know what a delusion is but its clearly bad news. Why the fuck did your father have it and how?

On top of this, the Favonius Knights--the organization you proudly served and the very organization that your father heavily encouraged you to serve--insists on covering up the truth because it makes them look bad. The Favonius Knights, who are supposed to be honorable and uphold integrity, are anything but that.

Then your adoptive brother, who you've known for years and trust with your life, shows up and tells you he's been spying for a foreign nation since you were kids with the intent of harming Mondstadt and everything about your relationship is possibly all one big lie and well--how do you not snap??

Now, I'm also incredibly fond of Kaeya and he was just as traumatized by Crepus's death. He was wracked with guilt for *feeling* relieved that he didn't have to worry about betraying his birth father for his adoptive father since Crepus was dead. He anticipated Diluc's anger and felt like their duel was a punishment for his lies.

To me, it hints that Kaeya probably didn't reveal the truth expecting Diluc's understanding, but rather he knew how he would react and perhaps he wanted Diluc to strike him down in that duel. Or at the very least, he wanted to distance himself from Diluc and cut off ties in order to avoid emotional attachment stopping him from his mission.

I personally head-canon that Diluc withdrew upon seeing Kaeya's vision because well--why would the gods bless Kaeya with a vision if he truly had the intent to harm Mondstadt? So in spite of what Kaeya revealed, he isn't a threat. But there's still a lot of hurt there to navigate through.

I think it's fascinating seeing where they stand in present game because Kaeya obviously has the ideology of working the system from within. He stayed in the knights (even taking over his brother's position) and with Jean rooted out the Inspector and his cronies.

Meanwhile Diluc just isn't that type of person. He doesn't settle, he refuses to work in a system he views corrupt, he rather accomplish what he can outside of it. Curiously, he doesn't challenge the status quo beyond being vocal of his distaste of the Knights.

This is head-canon fantasyland, but I like to envision Kaeya and Diluc do use a lot of the same informants and collaborate on intel relating to the safety of Mondstadt (especially since Diluc can move in ways against the Fatui that the Knights can't due to political reasons) but they struggle to have the same connection as before.

For example, Diluc's story quest--Kaeya was essentially giving Diluc an alibi with the Knights. Even if Jean damn well knows who it is, they still have to have official documentation stating otherwise.

Kaeya is good at reading people, he has to be given how he was raised to be a child spy. But I like to think he struggles to read Diluc like before. Diluc is much more jaded, pessimistic, quieter than before. He prefers to work on his own as much as possible. From Kaeya's pov, the only person he's seen Diluc willing to fully trust enough to work alongside with is the Traveler, and he states as much.

The opposite is true of Diluc. Kaeya was his shadow, a quiet but inquisitive, witty observer. Cavalry Captain Kaeya is much more outgoing and friendly, his charm on full display. Did he ever really truly know Kaeya or did he only show Diluc what he wanted him to see? Is Kaeya happier this way?

Fanon often depicts Kaeya as essentially being barred from the dawn winery from the duel by Diluc himself, but I don't think that's quite the case. Much rather, given the reason he told Diluc that night, I think he views himself as undeserving due to unresolved guilt.

Canon seems to hint at all of this through his hangout and Hidden Strife, the latter of which is unfortunately a time-limited event that occurred before I even played (hoyo please stop having heavy lore drops occur in time limited events).

I think the two want to trust each other again, but both are afraid of destroying the tentative truce they have so they leave all of it unaddressed. Kaeya refuses to be completely truthful ever again and Diluc acknowledges the past but refuses to discuss it. The tragedy in their relationship that neither is at fault for what happened--it's a twisted emotional mess of grief and heartbreak.

The last point I'd like to touch on is the parallels between Kaeya and Diluc both being essentially child soldiers for their fathers' causes.

For Kaeya, being abandoned in Mondstadt to be a child spy is the most overt. For Diluc? Despite Crepus's strong ambition to be a Favonius Knight and to have a vision--neither happened for him. In Diluc's vision story, it states that he views his vision being a result of their "shared" ambition, hinting that his vision was granted after Diluc's strong resolve to achieve his father's dreams for him.

We know Crepus heavily encouraged Diluc down this path at very young age, given Diluc received his vision at age 10 and became the youngest Captain at age 14. In some ways, I'm sure Kaeya was a bit jealous of Diluc for having a loving father present in his life that was overtly proud of him.

I am not saying Crepus wasn't a good father, I think he cared immensely for Kaeya and Diluc both, but I do think he did some morally grey shit.

Diluc abandoning his vision is fascinating and it's almost never explored in fics. He is the only vision holder we know of (aside from the Inazumauns whose visions were taken by force) that had their ambition for their vision shaken in such a way that they voluntarily discarded their vision for a time and only took it back after reigniting a new ambition to have it (and as far we know the only allogene that faced no negative setbacks from using a delusion long-term without their vision present).

I don't know where to end all of this, except if you have ragbros fic recommendations that you believe cover it in a more nuanced way, let me know!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hello hello! I was just reading through your account and saw the ask of some hsr characters being the big spoon, so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing hsr characters being the little spoon? I was thinking characters like, Silver Wolf, Asta, Acheron and Firefly, if that's ok with you.

Have a good one!

(H:SR) Silver Wolf, Asta, Acheron, Firefly, Feixiao, Qingque, Serval, and Tingyun being asked to be the small spoon

(Silver Wolf) "'Kay."

Silver Wolf doesn't get flustered nor does she really hesitate to let S/O hold her.

As long as they don't block her arms and hands from moving and to keep playing her game, it's good.

It's a nice feeling, sure, but she's too busy grinding.

For in the grim darkness of the far future, there is only material grinding.

(Silver Wolf) "...What? Turn down the brightness? Hang on, just need to see in this cave for a second-"

(Asta) "A-Alright, go ahead!"

Asta feels honestly a little giddy being held by her S/O.

She isn't particularly shy with her affection, but to be in such an intimate space never failed to get her heart beating faster.

Asta takes a deep breath before exhaling, snuggling into S/O's chest and hugging them back.

For now, she doesn't have to worry about work, she can just decompress with their arms around her.

(Asta) "...Do you think we need to buy a new blanket? This one feels a little too thin-...N-No need? Hm. True, this would be our third blanket.-"

(Acheron) "...You may hold me if you wish."

Acheron takes a second to adjust in their hold. Normally, she was the one holding S/O.

She wasn't entirely 100% positive at first if she liked it, but with how quickly her body relaxed she figured she could learn to.

Regardless, it's something she will start to treasure, any time spent with her beloved is time well spent.

Acheron's face is unmoving until S/O's hand brushes the back of her head, holding her gently yet firmly.

(Acheron) "Is your hand stroking my hair?...No, it is not unpleasant, it's quite nice, actually..."

(Firefly) "If you don't mind...!"

Well, Firefly doesn't really need sleep that much, but she'll never pass an up an opportunity to snuggle!

As much as she enjoyed being the big spoon for S/O sometimes, she could not deny how nice it felt for someone to care for her like this.

Even if it was something small like cuddling, it still meant a lot to Firefly.

Firefly's smile is ear to ear, accompanied by a light blush as she holds S/O back, her head underneath their chin.

(Firefly) "Dream well, S/O..."

(Feixiao) "Hm, alright, guess I could!"

Feixiao as the little spoon? Now that was a novel experience!

It felt absolutely divine to her to be held by S/O like this, as well as very strange.

Usually her strong arms would be holding S/O, sober or otherwise but she could get used to this!...Probably!

Her Foxian ears droop ever so slightly as she smiles, leaning into S/O's touch as their hand caressed her face.

(Feixiao) "Just don't blame me if you wake up when I do! With your arms around me it'll be kinda hard to get out."

(Qingque) "...Is that some kind of joke, S/O?!"

As if Qingque wasn't always the little spoon anyway!

Pouting, she'll just sigh before letting S/O hold her tightly, blushing.

It takes only a few seconds for her attitude to soften, simply yawning and ready to fall asleep.

Even if the hardest thing she did today was play a few games at work.

(Qingque) "...Why am I yawning? I'll have you know I do work from time to time you know!...STOP LAUGHING!"

(Serval) "Change of pace, huh? Sure!"

Serval doesn't hesitate, at least not until S/O holds her closer, making her blush.

She fiddles with her fingers for a brief moment before shifting their arms around her stomach, allowing her to move her head backwards into them.

Serval closes her eyes with a wide smile, already feeling comfortable.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

(Serval) "Hm, you're really comfy too, S/O..."

(Tingyun) "Mind the tail!"

Tingyun giggles at their request, but promptly settles in after doing the proper care for her tail, making sure that S/O can't mess with it during their sleep.

But afterwards, Tingyun happily lets herself be held by S/O.

After a long day, nothing is better than being held coming home. Well, maybe that and a promotion.

But she probably shouldn't complain.

(Tingyun) "Good night, S/O!~...Hm? What about my ears?...Alright, a little touching is fine, but don't mess it up too bad!"

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (ace x reader) [pt3]

a/n: part 3 yippee!! i actually planned out the idea like a week ago but haven’t had the time to write it properly until now ;;0;; btw if anyone has any ideas/themes they might wanna see explored in the series, feel free to comment! also bruh i realise i’ve never writing mutual pining before so i hope this works :D ajsdjahdihdiuwdh

contents: silly children antics, mutual pining, jealous!Ace and jealous!reader, angst :’ 

wc. 2.6k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 2 || part 4

i. 

“hey, (Y/N),” Luffy asked through a mouthful of roasted boar.

“don’t talk with your mouth full, Luffy,” Makino reminded him from across the mat laid across the grass. It was her day off and the weather was perfect so she decided to treat you and the brothers to a picnic by a lake near Dadan’s cabin.

“okay, sorry,” the young boy replied, once again through a mouthful of roasted boar. completely forgetting what she’d just said, he turned back to you and continued his initial train of thought. “hey, (Y/N), when we grow up, i wanna marry you!” 

it takes another week���and nearly a hundred more failed assassination attempts–for Ace to realise he wants to join the crew.

“hey, i think he’s gonna talk to Pops about joining us now,” you whisper under your breath, just loud enough for Marco to hear as he stands perched on your shoulders in his half-Zoan form. he’d just returned from checking in on a nearby village and decided you were his perfect landing spot.

“you sure he’s not just going in to try to kill him again?” the older man replies in an equally hushed manner as he shoots a glance over his shoulder just in time to see Ace enter Whitebeard’s room. 

“he looks nervous,” you point out, “all the other times he just looked angry or something.”

Marco hums in what you assume to be agreement, still not showing any signs of getting off your shoulders. the first time he pulled something like this it spooked the hell out of you but now it’s a regular occurance. he’s surprisingly light and you enjoy the warmth that emanates from his phoenix wings. 

sure enough, the door doesn’t go flying off into the ocean like it’s done the last two hundred times. instead, it swings open quietly before Ace walks back out with his hat tilted far down enough to cover most of his face. you manage to catch a glimpse of his lips when he turns to walk over, and you see a hint of a smile. 

“you dumbass! do you even know what that means?!” Ace yelled after recovering from choking on his food. he laid a swift chop to Luffy’s head, his frown only deepening when his brother tried to gum-gum pistol him and missed.

“Magra told me it’s what you do when you’re a grown-up and you really love someone who’s not part of your family! and then after that they become part of your family!” the younger boy whined, rubbing at his sore head. “i want (Y/N) to be part of my family once i become the Pirate King!” beside you, Makino laughed into her palm while you kinda just sat there gobsmacked. 

speechless, Ace let out a stubborn huff before bonking Luffy’s head once again. he takes a huge bite out of his share of meat whilst the younger boy grumbled in displeasure.

“you’re just mad (Y/N) wants to marry me instead of you, stinky!” Luffy yells before sticking out his tongue at his older brother.

“shut up, you idiot!” Ace barked, a hint of red flushing his freckled cheeks. “how do you know who (Y/N) wants to marry anyway!” he then turned to look at you almost expectedly, face growing redder by the second. 

unsure of what he wanted you to say, you simply stared back at him blankly. after a couple of seconds, he huffed and grumbled something under his breath before taking off entirely, leaving the picnic behind.

ii.

the Moby Dick manages to dock at Cupid Island right before sunset. its citizens, already used to the presence of Whitebeard pirates due to being under their protection, barely bat an eye at the massive crowd making their way to the dockside bar. your crew had visited the island fairly recently but since Whitebeard announced Ace’s decision to join a couple of hours ago, it was unanimously decided that a special celebration was in order.

you enter the bar a little later than the others, with Ace trailing behind you. he’d fallen asleep after lunch and refused to get out of your bed even though the whole crew was waiting to celebrate with him. after a little bribery though (you told him he could sleep in your room tonight) he decided he suddenly really wanted to get a drink with you. 

you spot Marco the quickest due to his distinct hair and the fact that he’s one of the few sitting directly at the bar. he waves the two of you over when your eyes meet. 

“hey, (Y/N), Akira’s looking for you! don’t wanna keep your boyfriend waiting, do ya?” he teases, eliciting a chorus of ooooohs from your fellow crewmates. rolling your eyes, you run up to him to deliver a hard slap to his back, inadvertently leaving Ace behind in the process.

“how many times do i have to tell you, old man!” you hit his back one more time even though it’s clear from how he laughs that it doesn’t hurt at all. you continue to berate him, much to the amusement of the onlookers, but Ace finds it’s getting harder to pay attention to what you’re saying as he stands rooted to the spot where you left him. 

he watches as you join in the festivities so seamlessly. he can’t help but feel a tinge of envy when Marco and the others tease you with inside jokes he doesn’t get… and what’s this about a boyfriend? you never told him you were dating someone!

eyes still glued to you standing just a few metres away, Ace feels his fingers begin to tingle with heat as his mind starts to race in a way it's never done before.

boyfriend.

your boyfriend?

what about me?

he’s taken aback by his own thoughts. what about him? it’s never occurred to Ace–until right now–that you’re not his. you’re his best friend, sure, but aside from that you don’t owe him any exclusivity, do you? he’s gotten so used to spending time alone with you and Luffy that he’s forgotten other people exist outside of the space the three of you carved in your hearts for each other–as well as the fact that you might have more space in your heart to carve out for other new people. 

Ace has to remind himself that you’ve only been reunited pretty recently. weaving your lives back together was so seamless and effortless he’d nearly forgotten the fact that you’d spent two whole years away from him; and that he’d spent those two years thinking you were dead.

i mourned for you, didn’t i?

did you mourn for me, too?

“hey, get over here already!” you call out to him, breaking his train of thought. wordlessly, he listens and makes his way over to see you’ve kept a seat beside you just for him. “tonight’s all about you, y’know? have some fun!”

seeing you smile lifts a bit of the weight pressing down on his chest and he even gives you a small smile of his own. right as he takes a seat, the bartender returns and Ace catches the way the man’s eyes practically shine once they land on you. the heaviness in his heart returns tenfold as a bitter taste stains the back of his throat.

“fancy seeing you again so soon, (Y/N)!” the bartender greets with a smile that screams lovesick–to Ace, at least.

“hey Akira, yeah it’s a special day today,” you hum, shooting a quick glance at Ace. “give me two of my usuals, will you? one for me and one for Ace here.”

“ahh you must be the one Marco was telling me about!” Akira finally turns his attention away from you to look at Ace. “nice to meet you, i’m Akira and i’m the owner of the bar.” he offers his hand and Ace shakes it as amicably as he can–considering he wants nothing more than to set Akira on fire right now.

and also (Y/N)’s boyfriend, i presume?

he nearly says aloud but he bites his tongue and just smiles. 

“Luffy ate all your food, y’know?” you said in a hushed tone, careful not to wake Dadan and the others. 

“i don’t care.” Ace crossed his arms, frowning face illuminated by the single lit lamp sat in between the two of you. an arms length away, Luffy snored in his sleep.

“why were you so mad anyway?”

“... i wasn’t mad.”

“you sure looked mad.”

“i just thought Luffy was being stupid.”

“he’s always stupid.” Ace laughed at that one. you were right, his little brother was pretty dumb but his definition of marriage, though not totally accurate, wasn’t really wrong either. “you don’t want me to marry Luffy?” you teased.

“do you even wanna marry him?” he huffed as he flicked his finger at your forehead.

“no, not really,” you admitted. Luffy certainly wasn’t the worst person you could imagine yourself marrying but he felt too much like a baby brother to you. Ace averted his eyes away from yours as his face flushed a familiar red.

“you should marry me instead… when we’re all grown up, i mean.”

for a few seconds you were speechless and Ace nearly considered throwing himself off a mountain; but then you reached out to hold his hand, your fingers cold to the touch.

“shouldn’t we date first?” your eyes refused to meet his as well. “don’t adults date before they get married?”

“i don’t know.” he shrugged even though neither of you were even looking at the other. 

“that’s what my parents did, i think.” 

“well, your parents suck,” Ace declared, he hated your parents even though he never met them. you hummed in agreement. “but, if you want,” he continued as he adjusted his hand so that your fingers interlocked, his heart beating like crazy, “we can date first. then i’ll ask you to marry me. deal?”

“deal.” 

iii.

“wait, you’re not dating?” Thatch gasps, face slightly reddened from the few drinks he’s already had. “we all thought he was your long lost boyfriend or something.” a few other crew members voice their agreement.

rubbing your face in your hands, you sigh. though, you can’t really blame them. to outsiders, the way you and Ace behave around each other doesn’t exactly scream platonic.

“no, we’re just childhood friends,” you say, taking a sip of your third drink of the night. you’d long since migrated from the bar to the table where Thatch and a few others are sitting. the topic of your relationship status was only brought up once the fourth division commander noticed a crowd of young women forming around Ace, who’d stayed by the bar with Marco.

“i was so ready to kick his ass,” Thatch says, “i legitimately thought he was your boyfriend! he acts like a lovesick puppy and follows you around all the time.” he takes another swig of beer before shooting another glance at the group of women fawning over Ace.

“maybe he was just out of options,” a random crewmate you’re not very familiar with chimes in. as rude as it sounds, you can tell from his tone he hadn’t meant it in a mean way but he still apologises when Thatch and the others call him out.

“i mean, you might be right,” you admit, unable to keep your eyes away from the activity going on by the bar counter. Ace’s freckled face is tinted red even though he’s barely halfway through his first and only drink as the handful of local women fawn and flirt with him in a manner that’s only normal on Cupid Island–a place renown for its openness to romantic love.

although, even if you weren’t on Cupid Island, you still wouldn’t be surprised if women flocked to Ace on the daily. with his cute face, attractive physique and friendly demeanour, you can’t exactly blame them.

is this what your life was like when we were apart for two years? 

did you fall in love with anyone? are you in love with anyone?

you raise your glass to your lips but find it difficult to even take a sip. there’s a bitter taste lingering in the back of your throat that you know for sure didn’t come from any of your drinks. one of the ladies flirting with Ace laughs particularly loudly and you realise you can’t stay here anymore. 

your chest hurts too much in a way it's never done before. you’re old enough to know why you’re feeling this way but you avoid thinking about it as much as you can, worried that if you face the truth head-on, you might end up feeling worse.

you stand up abruptly, the scrapping of your chair against the worn wooden floor inadvertently attracting the attention of everyone in the bar. most lost interest right away but some curious stares linger. you feel a hint of embarrassment at being caught but your slight intoxication and frazzled mind makes it hard for you to care about shame right now.

without saying anything to anyone, you make your way to the exit. 

you reentered my life so abruptly and we fell back into place like puzzle pieces so seamlessly. i can’t remember my life before you came into it.

as you walk past the bar, you fail to notice Ace calling out your name.

i’ve taken for granted how happily you accept me back in your arms, just like when we were kids. how will i cope once you leave me for something better?

tears sting your eyes as the cold night air whips at your face. as quickly as you can, you walk back to the Moby Dick.

“(Y/N)! where’re you going?” Ace shouts as he catches up after ditching the group of women at the bar without a second thought. the moment he sensed you were upset, all his mind could focus on was making you feel better somehow. “are you okay?” he reaches out to grab your arm the moment you’re within range. although you don’t outright shake off his hand, you don’t stop walking either. 

“go back to the celebration, Ace,” you say without even looking at him, “it’s for you. you should have as much fun as you can.” you know you’re being unfair to him but the sudden revelation you’ve had to deal with tonight is taking its toll on you mentally and emotionally.

“it won’t be fun without you,” he whines, tightening his grip on your elbow. why’re you so cold all of a sudden? “come back in with me. we can hang out, just the two of us.” 

you want to so badly but you’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle seeing the same group of ladies waiting for Ace when you return. the aching in your chest grows tenfold and before you realise, you’re no longer able to avoid thinking about why you feel this way.

i’m so jealous.

i’m so selfish.

“no,” you finally stop walking and turn around to look up at Ace. he furrows his eyebrows when he notices the tears pooling in your eyes. “i can’t– i mean i’m not feeling well. i just wanna rest. you should go back,” you say as you force a smile that fails to fool him, “you looked like you were having fun… with all the girls, i mean. don’t stop because of me.”

for a moment Ace doesn’t know what to say and you take full advantage of it, tearing your arm out of his grip before continuing your walk back to the ship. he watches for a while as you leave, a million thoughts running through his mind as the pounding of his heart grows stronger by the second.

don’t leave me. i just want to be with you. 

he decides to run after you. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss (my bad bruh i added the extra s by accident ;;0;;) @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[the-amber-raven]

Snippet Sunday

I don't usually post snippets for fics that I'm already in the process of posting, but I'm aware it's been an age since I updated it feels like home to me (writing has been a struggle but it's coming this week, I promise - most likely on Tuesday) so I thought I might as well post a fun fire-fam snippet from the wedding in this story!

--

“Oh, no, please do feel free to spill, baby brother,” Maddie said. “I want to hear all about the pigtails that were pulled to make this happen.” 

“There were no pigtails,” Evan groused. 

“Uh, excuse me,” Eddie said, raising his hand to interrupt. “But as the person who almost ended up with a broken ankle for the high crime of having Tommy’s attention, I beg to differ about the lack of pigtails.” 

“What?!” Hen asked, looking torn between concern and delight.

“You realise you just called yourself a pigtail?” Evan sniped at Eddie, pouting at him. 

“Wait,” Nash said, frowning, his brows furrowed.

Tommy froze, willing his brain to come up with something to distract Nash away from the conclusion he was inevitably drawing, wanting to spare Evan from being on the receiving end of his captain’s wrath on his birthday. While Nash was never anywhere near as harsh as Gerrard, Tommy knew that he was no slouch in the discipline department. 

He was somewhat surprised that Eddie had even brought this incident up in front of him but Tommy knew that he was also operating on very little sleep (he’d gotten some hilarious messages and videos from the failed bachelor party) so he likely hadn’t thought the comment through. 

“That was how you injured your ankle and had to call out of work for a week?” Taking the silence as confirmation, Nash sighed exasperatedly and turned to give Evan a disappointed look. “Buck.” 

“I ended up going over to Evan’s house and kissing him,” Tommy blurted out, flushing when all the attention immediately diverted to him.

“Really?” Eddie said, staring at him. "That was how it happened?"

“So, what, he opened the door and you just laid one on him?” Karen asked, confused. 

“No, we were inside,” Tommy corrected. “And we spoke about – things –” 

“Buck going Full Buck and maiming Eddie because he couldn’t just ask to go to a basketball game,��� Chimney supplied helpfully. 

“I asked you,” Evan retorted. 

“Kid, do you remember the conversations we’ve had about talking to the wom – the people you’re dating?” Nash asked. To Tommy’s surprise, he didn’t look upset – more resignedly amused. “You realise that applies to the w – people you want to date as well.”

“See, it’s not my fault that you didn’t make that clear,” Evan said, slinging an arm around Nash’s shoulders and giving him an innocent smile. 

[capricoopla]

I always interpreted the ascension cutscenes as what the slugcat's have to see before being able to fully let go and ascend Like, the idea that in death, the brain does what it needs to do in preparations More of a mental process than anything What the slugcats see before ascension is what gives them peace of mind in order to continue beyond the cycle Which is also why I think the Artificer was able to ascend, despite it looking rather bleak in the ascension scenes Survivor sees their journey complete, seeing family back at home they were stranded from Monk reunites with their sibling Hunter is freed from illness and rests in comfort after their hardships And Artificer, likely on the verge, is finally able to let go of their hatred and forgive themselves once reunited with what they lost, their children, getting the chance to embrace them one last time and gaining the closure they need to move on Which is why they didn't echo Echos, are bound to the cycle because of something they weren't able to let go Which is why it's interesting to note that Saint is the only slug cat who didn't gain peace in their ascension cutscene, as it shows them failing to ascend a void worm, escaping from their grasp and leaving their journey of ascending everyone incomplete (this is also apart of my hc of Saint that Saint's already repeated multiple cycles even before we first start playing their campaign, also that it's a made up scenario that they live through) There is something that the Saint can't let go, and that wanting manifests in the eternal dream that is the cycles they forever live through, cycles that spiral endlessly

[missarchive]

Hi fellow Virgo!! I saw your post about wanting asks on my feed and icl I didn’t check when it was from so I could be old but 🤷‍♀️

This is my first Spencer request ever- I was wondering if you could do a Spencer Reid x bau!reader who is working on a case at the police station but she’s all emotional and soft because she’s tired? Established relationships if possible?

Thank you!!! - 💋

i wrote this one last night but passed out before i could upload it 😭

cw; hurt/comfort, reader has a breakdown, spencer is the sweetest, most perfect boy ever (what's new?)

The police station teemed with activity, phones ringing, voices echoing across the bullpen, and the faint click of keyboards creating an unrelenting rhythm. You sat at your desk, hunched over a case file, your mind fraying at the edges. Every line you read seemed to slip through your grasp, blending into a tangled mess of details that refused to make sense.

It had been a long week—a gruelling mix of late nights and early mornings. The current case was particularly brutal: a string of disappearances with few solid leads and rising pressure from the local authorities to produce results. But what truly gnawed at you was the witness interview earlier that day, a young woman barely out of her teens who’d been found, scared and shaken, after narrowly escaping the unsub.

You’d tried to get her to talk, sitting with her in the interrogation room for hours, coaxing her gently. But the girl had clammed up, her hands trembling as tears streamed down her face.

“You should’ve let Hotch or JJ handle that,” you muttered to yourself now, guilt twisting your stomach. The thought of having failed her, of maybe missing something crucial, weighed heavily on your mind.

"Y/N?"

Spencer’s voice cut through the noise, soft and steady. You blinked, lifting your head to see him standing by your desk, his eyes scanning your face with concern.

“Hey,” you said weakly, trying to muster a smile.

He didn’t return it, his brow furrowing instead. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you replied quickly, turning back to the file.

“Y/N,” Spencer said again, his voice a gentle but insistent nudge. He crouched down beside you, bringing himself into your line of sight. “Talk to me. Please.”

Your chest tightened. The last thing you wanted was to break down in the middle of the station, but his gaze was so kind, so full of understanding, that you felt the dam begin to crack. “I’m just… tired,” you whispered, but the quiver in your voice gave you away.

Spencer’s hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding you. “It’s more than that. What happened?”

You took a shaky breath, staring at the file in front of you. “I blew it earlier. That girl, the one we found… she wouldn’t talk to me. I tried everything, Spence. I thought I could connect with her, but all I did was make it worse.”

His expression softened, and he gave your knee a gentle squeeze. “You didn’t blow it,” he said firmly. “Sometimes people shut down no matter what we do. It’s not your fault.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly looked away, swiping at them with the back of your hand. “It feels like my fault. She was so scared, and I couldn’t…”

Your voice broke, and Spencer didn’t hesitate. He stood and gently tugged you up from your chair, pulling you into his arms. The moment you felt his warmth, the tears came, silent but steady as you buried your face in his chest. His hand moved in slow, soothing circles on your back, and his chin rested lightly on the top of your head.

“You’ve been carrying too much,” he murmured. “You always do. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

You clung to him, his words a balm to your frayed nerves. The sound of his heartbeat, steady and strong, filled your ears, grounding you in the moment.

“I hate feeling like this,” you admitted after a while, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Like I’m not good enough.”

Spencer pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “You’re more than good enough,” he said, his tone unwavering. “You’re brilliant, compassionate, and one of the strongest people I know. And if you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s okay to lean on me. That’s what I’m here for.”

After a moment, you sniffled and pulled back just enough to look at him. “I didn’t mean to fall apart like that,” you said, wiping at your cheeks.

Spencer reached out, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “You’re allowed to fall apart,” he said softly. “Especially with me. We’re a team, remember?”

His words hit you square in the heart, and you nodded. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

He smiled, a small, reassuring curve of his lips. “How about this? You take a break—actually eat something and get some rest. I’ll cover for you here.”

You started to protest, but he held up a hand. “No arguments. We can’t solve this case if you’re running on empty. Let me take care of you, okay?”

The tenderness in his voice made your chest ache in the best way. You nodded again, feeling a small smile tug at your lips. “Okay.”

He kept an arm around your shoulders as he guided you toward the break room, insisting that you take a moment to breathe, to rest. And for the first time in days, you let yourself believe that you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.

[jsmainblog]

shoulder to cry on - spencer reid ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

requests are always open <3

spencer reid x bau!reader,

summary: after a particulary bad case which upsets you spencer offers you some comfort

warnings: light angst, illusions to child murder/death/killing

fluff 💗/ angst 💔

It had been a hard case. Even just thinking about how everything turned out makes your eye's water and your throat raw. Sitting on the BAU jet staring out the window you grapple onto the ledge in your mind to avoid being dragged into the unforgiving hell of emotion surrounding the case.

Most the BAU team are asleep. All except for one. He sat quietly in his seat seemingly engrossed in the book held in his nimble hands that you have come to known better than your own. You notice the way his eyebrows furrows, or the way his lip curls, or when he's looking at.. you? Your eyes dart away quickly. You know they are red rimmed and glassy and if anything Spencer knows when somethings up. Even just one glance and he could tell. Having a profiler and genius as a boyfriend has its pros and cons sometimes.

Spencer stands, his long limbs seeming unsteady as he comes and sits next to you.

"Hey" he says gently. He gives you that smile. The smile that makes you wanna melt, the smile that makes you believe everythings okay, the smile that you want to confide in.

"Hi"

"So I know you probably not having a allergic reaction, and I know its hayfever season, and I know you probably didn't put any contact lenses in so are you going to tell me whats wrong?" he says gently trying to inquire about your emotional state without pushing you. Your heart can't help to flutter. He knows you so well.

"Is it about the case?" he inquires again. When your eyes dart away you see a saddened, almost sympathetic look befall his face and he sighs.

"Baby, you couldn't have saved them you know that. There in a better place now, a place without pain. Please sweetheart don't blame yourself, I know it's tough but I can't sit here and watch you be so upset." he murmured.

"I know that Spence but if I did something different I could've...I could've saved them or at very least one of them. I didn't.. I didn't want to fail them." you choke. You feel his arm wrap around your shoulder and a tender kiss placed to your temple.

"You saved a life angel. Thats better than saving none okay? One kid is going home back to their mom and dad. One baby is going back to their parents." he mused. When a raw sob cut through your throat and tears spilled over the already sensitive rim of your eyes Spencer pulls you into a tight hug. His splayed hand rubs circles on your spine, his other hand which rests on your hip, rubs your hip bone with his thumb.

"Sshh shhh. Your okay, your gonna be okay lovely. I'm here don't worry." he mumbles into your hair pressing a kiss to your crown. You sob quietly into his chest as his warm palms and lips attempt to comfort you.

"Oh my sweet girl. I know, I know. I'm so sorry angel. Deep breathes for me now." he mutters. When you finally lean away from him revealing your tear stained face he wipes his thumb over travelling tears. Spencer looks like his heart is aching, which in reality it is. He's seeing the girl who he cares so deeply and eternally for break down in his arms for something she was no control of.

"I'm sorry." you say bashfully a weak smile tugging at your lips.

"Sweetheart what are you sorry for? If your sorry about being upset you have absolutely no reason to be sorry for. Infact, if you didn't get upset I'd be even more worried. You don't have to be sorry for being human baby, or having emotions, everyone on the team has probably done this in the jet bathrooms if I'm gonna be honest." he says trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Really?" you say a bit shocked. You thought the other team members where so resilient, acquired through years of emotional berating from cases and a 'if it happens, it happens.' attitude.

"Course we do. JJ always has to have a minute after some cases revolving around children, Morgan with pedophiles, I do with those who are struggling mentally. Some of us aren't as strong as we think. But its okay, at the end of the day we know we've tried our best and if we've at least saved one life we are happy. Its better to focus on what went right rather then mulling over what went wrong." Spencer explains. It shocks you again, you've noticed BAU members having unusually long time spent in the jets bathroom but you didn't think it was for crying at all. It comforts you a little, while yes your teammates, your friends are in pain at least they feel the same way you do. At least they can understand.

"I think you should sleep sweetie, I think it would be good for you. You know because you can't think in your sleep. Well actually you can, you process your thoughts and events from the day subconsciously, and you dream, and you can wake yourself up from thinking when you are asleep. I'm not helping am I?" he rambles.

"No, not particularly."

"You wanna sleep on me? I don't want to sound full of myself but I think I'm more comfy then the jets headrest." he suggests.

When your head drops to his shoulder and your eyes close, you don't feel like your head is a swarm of bad memories and thoughts surrounding the case being played on loop its just filled with thoughts about Spencer. Mainly on how grateful that you have such a sweet, loving boyfriend in your life. At that point in time you knew that you love Spencer, that you are inlove with him and it fills you with ease because you already know he loves you back.

[abigmessofablog]

I'm sure I'm probably not the first person to note this but the reason so many works derivative of The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings fails to capture the magic of those works is the lack of the hobbityness

Tolkien was, obviously, entirely aware of he common fantasy and fairytale tropes he was playing off of and they're present in his work (placing the proper king on the throne, elves and dwarves, main character who's hesitant to start his heros journey, dragons, ext) but if need be, these elements will be sidelined to emphasize the Hobbitish philosophy about the importance of comfort and good food and so on and so forth. (Thorin's death speech, Frodo's "I can't recall the taste of food, nor the touch of grass" ext)

Warning; super long, barely readable meta rant written at 2AM below

I've seen people say in any other story, Aragorn would be the main character of LOTR and I can agree with that but I'd argue you can kinda say the same thing about Thorin. Aragorn has his whole "rightful king" plot not dissimilar to how Thorin has his "reclaim the homeland, fight the dragon" plot. In the movies our emotional involvement in Aragorn and Thorin gets beefed up a little as they get some more brooding to the both of them. Aragorn gets his angst over his ancestry, Thorin is taken more seriously (ie: his updated, much more dramatic introduction giving him an air of mystery vs his book introduction, movie Balin's speech about his loyalty to Thorin, the treatment of the whole "gold sickness" thing, Thorin's speeches being taken seriously rather than being lovingly made fun of by the narration, ext) You can easily see a version of these stories where these two kings are the main characters of the story but they aren't! but neither of these characters are our main characters. Frodo and Bilbo are, respectively. And Frodo and Bilbo are simple hobbits with simple likes and the desire to live their simple shire life before getting dragged into adventure by the narrative.

I do genuinely like that in the Hobbit movies Bilbo gets to decide to go on the adventure by himself instead of getting unceremoniously shoved out of the house by Gandalf. It gives him more agency and we get the fun adventure that is supposed to take Bilbo out of his shell. Thats the message most people took from the story (ie "the world is not in your books..." I love this message/interpretation as much as anyone to be clear. I'm very guilty of loving my "Bilbo stays in Erebor" fanworks) but it is worth noting that Bilbo returns back to the Shire after his adventure and he gets the big speech about how more people should value the simple things in life before Thorin dies. Bilbo positions himself as sort of an unconventional hero by modern standards. Bilbo gets out of his situations more often than not through his wit and cleverly talking his way out of it rather than any displays of strength. He talks his way around Smaug, he cheats at his game of riddles with Gollum, he stalls the trolls. Bilbo wasn't even awake for the big climatic battle that gets turned into a climax for one of the movies. Bilbo, while getting braver more capable and more accepting of the situation, is still a hobbit! He wants his home and hearth and if he is dragged on an adventure, he will very loudly let you know about it. Frodo is similar in the sense that his strength doesn't come from any physical strength but from his ability to shoulder the horrors™ and then accept help from the people around him (mainly Sam) because he shouldn't have to shoulder the horrors™ alone. Again, the entire time Frodo is going on his adventure he's thinking about how much he'd rather be home. Sam sort of acts like this beacon of what the home represents and he’s the only thing keeping him emotionally stable and tries to comfort him through keeping him tethered to those memories of home. There’s the obvious scenes where Sam straight up tells Frodo to imagine home but there’s also just things like Sam cooking and insisting on making sure Frodo is fed (please note that sharing food is basically the universal signal for closeness, domesticity and the idea of a family unit. Think Norman Rockwell) or them turning their traumatic events into stories that they (again mostly Sam) expect to tell to their family and friends in a very domestic setting and then have those stories be passed down in the “Samwise the brave”, “Frodo wouldn’t have made it far without Sam” scene

You can also use this theme to sort of track the change in tone between the two stories. Bilbo's craving for the simple comforts of a warm meal, his bookshelves and a comfortable are played for jokes a few times, it's ultimately validated by the narrative. Frodo's drive to get back home is ultimately very melancholic and downright heartwrenching and when he can finally go home, it's not the same. In Bilbos case this change is sort of implied through the way Bilbo is treated very differently and treated like the neighborhood crazy guy by his peers post-adventure and this is played for laughs mostly but with Frodo it's outright stated and it is played completely straight. He's been so traumatized, so changed by his journey that he's simply not the same person he was when he left and he struggles to enjoy the aspects of the home that were previously used as an attempt to comfort him. Hence, “the Shire has been saved, but not for me." And he ends up leaving the Shire for good. As much as we know Tolkien hated the war allegory, it does bring to mind a soldier coming back home with severe trauma.

I feel like so much of this is lost in works that try to emulate LOTR and The Hobbit because of the simple fact that action sells much better. I mean, that's why the third hobbit movie is called "The Battle of The Five Armies" isn't it? There's also the want for grimmer, darker stories, since so many people view those as more "realistic" Maybe it's just the result of more cynical creators and audiences who want to watch more of the killing the dragon and cool battles with the big armies and less of the writing about trees and the value of home. I dunno I'm tired

[astradyke]

No please tell us your thoughts on dinok, dinok is all I think about all the time

i waited to answer this for a really long time because i have been struggling to formulate some of my thoughts. i have two main thoughts about DINOK, but i only really explore one of them because i have long since thought the other one was a bit reductive-- which was essentially exploring the implications of Phil's absence in DINOK. i don't think phil himself, as much as i love him, should be centered or heavily involved in the discussion about DINOK, because as i go on to elaborate, i think everything internally and from an external meta about DINOK was very much about dan transitioning from a rumination period of his life to one where he confronts the idea of moving forward.

i think DINOK is fascinating when put in comparison to WAD, because both of them were functionally intended to do the same thing but had drastically different journeys.

DINOK was based on dan's experience with his sexuality in particular, based on the premise that if dan never came out as gay he would end up being a lawyer and et cetera et cetera, having a breakdown at age 30. from there he goes through a comedic journey (in a dark comedy way) where he reconciles with his own sexuality, and by the end presumably finds that kind of self acceptance and happiness. in a lot of ways, that end goal is really similar to WAD (as is the dark comedy because Woah), except WAD is a lot more global in its end goal-- with the idea that everyone may be doomed, but there is so much good in the world anyway, and so much one person can do to fight against that doom-- and is also a bit broader when it comes to dan! WAD is about dan's sexuality, but it's also about dan reconciling with the rapidly changing and- to him- deteriorating world. and with that comes some questions about his own content and other parts of his identity. it's about more than just his sexuality-- which is NOT to say that making a special about just his sexuality "wouldn't be enough", that's not my point at all. but what i'm saying is there's a difference of scope, and i think that difference came... because of DINOK.

like, DINOK is riding off of the freedom he experienced coming out in basically i'm gay. but as we saw repeatedly BIG didn't resolve a ton of dan's issues with his sexuality-- from his one-off comedy gig and gay and not proud (note that content in G&NP was cut by youtube for the original so we only saw a slivered down version. that being said im still insane about it but, as a disclaimer) we see that he struggled to feel pride with his sexuality despite having come out, didn't know where he fit into the queer community as a whole, and was altogether ruminating. DINOK, in my opinion, was dan trying to answer those questions fully in his own terms. it's him trying to grapple with the struggles he still has around his sexuality through the POV of a different version of him that may experience that more "acutely" than dan does-- because from a public perspective, dan very much is part of the queer community! he was like one of the top role models for queer British teens as voted recently in that one magazine i don't remember the title. but internally, it's different, and getting to explore that through the lens of DINOK Dan who does NOT present as being super in the queer community was probably a cathartic thought!

but with the inability to produce DINOK due to YouTube's overall negligence, that left dan in a strange position. his sexuality now felt almost used against him because of all these fucking originals he was getting dragged into, builboards in the like-- his sexuality was something that he should be proud of, with all these accomplishments and shows, but they felt hollow and not like something he really deserved. and that inherently segues into talks about capitalism and fame as a whole because -- after DINOK failed, dan was no longer working with hypothetical alternate universes, but was instead forced to reckon with his own.

quick detour to dystopia daily because i am really fond of it-- i think DD was also part of the WAD process in that it's about dan being trapped behind this persona but using it to kind of explore content creation, and himself, and in a lot of ways i think the performance was a satire but in other ways i think it was a cocoon phase. testing the waters of the future of daniel howell's content, but through dragging an antiquated persona into a different time in order to ask that. so i think it runs like DINOK -> DD -> WAD.

and by the end of WAD dan came out of it feeling more authentically himself, not liberated by the performance from DD, and not liberated through the proxy of his alternate universe self in DINOK. WAD is dan having to reckon with this as HIM, as daniel howell in the years 2022 and surrounding, as his own person. i admit at this part of the post that i did watch WAD but haven't rewatched it and that a lot of the segments weren't really my favorite so i don't actually remember beat for beat what happens in WAD (i'm more invested in WAD as a meta than as an actual stage show with segments, to be honest), but like... overarchingly that is about dan! it ends in a painfully vulnerable place, and he sheds away from the black and the shadows to start wearing orange and enter kind of this new phase of dan howell. one where he is more openly queer but is also more openly... everything! and we see all of that now when we see new content with dan and how happy he looks.

DINOK fascinates me because i wonder if the end outcome would have felt the same for dan. i think DINOK roots itself less in existential crises as a whole and more specifically those about his sexuality, while WAD asks the question of "what comes next?" which i think is really interesting and is also more helpful.

which is why, though i sometimes think about the fact that book deals tend to come in twos (fly high DAPGO) and that dan has only released one book thus meaning he could release DINOK as a book, the more i think about it the more i... don't think he would. i think the time for DINOK has passed. i think it was more of a psychological state for him, a rumination, and from here on it's about moving forward. to the day after the night.

... if any of this makes any sense at all, God i am yapping. but i hope you get it? i hope you get it.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

To address some further points that the notes have been kind enough to bring up, it would appear further debunking is needed. To be clear, I get that most people don't have my encyclopedic knowledge of a series that ended a quarter century ago and are getting their information filtered through fandom. However.

"She doesn't acknowledge the sacrifices her friends make for the war effort."

Counterpoint:

"I guess I'm not you, Tobias. I guess I'm not willing to make the sacrifices you've made... That can mean... I'm a coward. I'm selfish." (Cassie, #19)

"'Each day, each battle, each mission, I just feel less and less.' ...I turned to Jake. He made the ghost of a smile and nodded his head. He understood. He knew. It was happening to him, too." (Cassie, #19)

"Cassie put her arm around my shoulder. It is a human gesture of comfort. 'You okay?' she asked. [Ax just rejected the only 3 other andalites on the planet.]... Cassie held my hand, and in the darkness where no one could see, I cried." (Ax, #38)

"She [Rachel] had this way of seeming untouched by what went on around her. Unaffected. Above... But the war had touched her. She'd changed, and she'd known she was changing... My beautiful, brave best friend." (Cassie, #54)

"'So how is he [Jake], really?' /'I'm not exactly a psychiatrist, Cassie.' /I wasn't going to accept that. "Marco, you have a very subtle mind and you're a good observer. And he's your best friend." (Cassie, #54)

"Jake had done an almost superhuman job of protecting his parents. Both from death and a fate worse than death. Infestation. Until the last time." (Cassie, #50)

"He wants us to just quit the whole thing... But at the same time, it's Marco who is very aware of all the security problems. He's the one who makes sure we never discuss anything on the phone, where enemy ears might be listening in." (Cassie, #4)

In conclusion: I could go on, but she's IMHO more aware of the others' sacrifices than Ax or Marco is.

"Her saving Ax with brain surgery in #29 is a deus ex machina"

Counterpoint: First, trephination predates writing in parts of the world so, a) it can be done without modern tools, b) it can be done without written instruction (which Cassie has), c) it can be done without yeerk assistance (which Cassie has). Cassie doesn't literally trepan Ax, but her surgery isn't far off.

Second... I already brought up Tobias reshaping the history of the entire Earth, didn't I? Aight, how about:

Marco predicts Visser One's moves months in advance, using information gleaned from 3 interactions with her that each lasted less than 15 minutes (#30)

Ax, who weighs ~100lbs, kills a T. rex that weighs ~25,000lbs using only his tail (MM2)

Rachel fights three hork-bajir controllers, injuring two and killing one, with no morphing and only melee weapons (MM4)

Tobias catches an arrow in midair, intercepting an object traveling at over 200 MPH while himself traveling at up to 60 MPH and actively being shot at (MM3)

Marco and Ax hack the CIA database in an afternoon because they're bored (#48)

In conclusion: It's a superhero story, ffs.

"Her ability to morph well is rarely or never helpful"

Counterpoint: This one has got to be down to OP not having read the books in ~20 years.

In #37, she morphs her way out of shackles without revealing she's human by only demorphing parts of her polar bear legs.

In #44, she pulls a similar trick by breaking into an airplane with human fingers while still 90% gull.

The default "nuclear option" (MM1, #24, #34, #39) is for the kids to drop Moby Cassie on their problems, a strategy that never fails to get results — and that hinges on Cassie being able to turn into a whale ultra-fast while retaining some of her bird parts.

In #9, she saves everyone's lives by regaining control of her termite morph long enough to kill the queen, something none of her friends can do.

In #3, #21, and #26, she saves fellow morphers from being trapped by helping them demorph.

In conclusion: Cassie being a skilled morpher doesn't become useful quite as often as Tobias's flying skills or Ax's lightning calculation, but it's a close contest.

"She's the one who pushed the others to dump oatmeal in the yeerk pool and later to drop a nuclear bomb on it."

Counterpoint: This one has got to be down to OP not having read the books in ~20 years, but also it's extremely telling that this false rumor is making its way around the fandom. I'm sure someone's come up with a way to blame her for the JFK assassination and the Mount St. Helens eruption while they're at it.

"'Cassie?' I asked. 'What do you think?' /... When she turned around, I was shocked. She had a stricken look. 'I... I don't know anymore, okay?... All the rights and wrongs, and all the lines between good and evil...' Cassie hugged herself." (Rachel, #17)

"I kicked the rest of the barrels into the pool, just so Marco couldn't possibly miss. Then Cassie went off to free the others... «Marco has to shoot,» I said... /«He's not leaving us any choice,» Tobias said grimly. He hopped over to sit on Marco's shoulder. «You're aiming high,» he said. «A hair lower...»" (Rachel, #17)

[Jake and Eva discuss bombing the yeerk pool] "«You know, maybe we should rethink this,» Tobias said. /'Yeah, we should,' Cassie agreed. 'This mission is way too heavy with bad karma.' .../'I'm out,' Cassie said hotly. 'I thought that maybe... but I can't. And I can tell you my parents are out, too.' .../ Cassie turned to walk away, but Jake grabbed her sleeve. 'Cassie! Come on.'/ 'Come on what! ... You don't knowingly take innocent life. Not if you're a decent person. I thought you knew that, Jake.'" (Ax, #52)

"'Cassie's going [on the mission],' Jake said. 'If there are tough decisions to be made along the way, I want Cassie to make them.' .../'Cassie!' Marco sighed. 'We increase the risk...' /«Cassie is right,» I said abruptly. «We agreed to give a full five minutes to those who wish to escape. To give them less would be dishonorable and inhumane.»" (Ax, #52)

In conclusion: She's capable of tough calls when they need to be made. But she always opposes slaughtering unhosted yeerks.

"Cassie is preachy and moralizing"

Counterpoint: I could bring up all the times Jake outright scolds someone for going against the team, or the times Tobias decides the fate of the world based on a gut feeling, or the times Marco's a straight-up asshole about someone disagreeing with him. But instead I'd like to list Cassie's morals:

Don't kill prisoners of war if at all possible (#19, #52, #16)

Don't ask anyone else to do something you wouldn't be willing to do yourself (#9, #19)

We should maybe stop annihilating every other species on Earth at top speed, even if doing so is good for the economy (#4, #9, #24)

Sport hunting is wasteful (#29)

Hunting for food is not only acceptable, but often a person's only option (#25, #9)

Animals feel pain (#4, #28)

Animal experimentation, especially for cosmetics, is cruel (#28)

It's better to fuck up by saving a life than by taking one (#19, #29, #50)

An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind (sometimes you have to compromise) (#41, #52)

In conclusion: The environmentalism is the obvious place where Cassie's idealism has stood the test of time, far better than Marco's mockery about logging limits being the same as "let dogs vote!" (#9). But if we take a step back from the idea that the point of war is winning at all costs (again: if you want that, play Call of Duty) then most of what Cassie supports seems downright reasonable. You don't have to agree with her on everything — I'm in favor of culling animal overpopulations with sport hunting — but in a lot of ways she's less extreme in her views than Marco or Ax.

So I'm putting together an In Defence of Cassie PowerPoint for a PowerPoint night with friends. Do you have any arguments for or against her? I trust your opinion and am curious.

Let's see.

"She's too powerful, too unique, too far-seeing, and not good enough for Jake! What a Mary Sue!"

Counterpoint: May I introduce you to the reigning champion fan favorite, Sad White Boy Tobias?

Only nothlit ever to regain the ability to morph

Only known human-andalite hybrid ever to exist

Regarded as savior by entire hork-bajir species

Entire existence is a time paradox the war hinges upon

Pulls the canonically "most beautiful girl in our grade", who turns down 6 or 7 other offers in favor of Bird Boy

Correctly predicted planetary ecology 65 million years in advance

Believed to be immune to 2-hour limit

In conclusion: y'all wouldn't be crying "Mary Sue" if Cassie was a sad white boy, and I can prove it.

"She's too weak and hand-wringing, and she never helps the war effort!"

Counterpoint: First of all, the fact that the same people say this in the same breath as "she's too powerful" is... telling. Secondly:

She saved the entire team's lives in #24, in #29, in #44, and in MM1, among others.

Specifically calling out #44 — that ending shows she is willing and able to be ruthless when her friends are in need. She doesn't like slaughtering human-controllers, but if the alternative is everyone she loves dying, then she'll fucking well do it.

Much like Jake (see: Sad White Boy), she's more willing to risk herself than her friends, hence the end of MM1

Her medical knowledge saves Marco from rabies, Ax from brain!appendicitis, and Tobias from bird flu.

Her survivalist knowledge saves everyone in #25 (the Arctic), MM2 (Cretaceous Era), #11 (rainforest), and #14 (desert).

In conclusion: Cassie's only idealistic-looking by the standards of this extremely morally gray team.

"She's so unfair to Jake!"

Counterpoint: Jake? The Jake who refused to speak with her for weeks? Jake who proposes marriage while they're still broken up? Jake who announces he'll never trust Cassie again because she [checks notes] saved his brother's life? That Jake?

Also:

She gives him tons of emotional support in #16, #21, #47, and other times he's feeling low.

They have a healthy argument where they air differences and come to an understanding in #9.

Did I mention he doesn't just dump her but ghosts her in the middle of the war's endgame?

They're teenagers. Their relationship isn't perfect, but it is built on open communication and mutual respect which is more than Rachel and Tobias can say

She's fighting a war, and PTSD for that matter. No, she doesn't have infinite emotional bandwidth.

In conclusion: Their relationship is fine, their breakup is mutual, and her behavior only looks bad if, once again, you're holding Cassie to a different standard than you are Jake.

"She shouldn't have trusted Aftran!"

Counterpoint: friendly reminder that the alternative was killing a 6-year-old for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that's what you think Cassie should've done, that tells us more about you than about her.

"She spends too much time moralizing!"

Counterpoint: this is a book series about war, not a friggin' video game. If you want moral pornography, go play Call of Duty. If you want sci fi realism, then you're going to have to accept that a majority of humans prefer not to kill their fellow humans if at all possible.

"She's a ripoff of [insert character here]!"

Counterpoint: literally every single one of these says more about the commenter than about the source work. "Every dystopia is set in the U.S." is the kind of thing only people who only read books by American authors would think. "All epic fantasy is Eurocentric" => tell me you only read books by white people without telling me. I'm glad you think Cassie is too similar to Willow Rosenberg, but there are at least 6 other stories in the known world, and I hear some of them even feature sweet/dorky/caring characters who are secretly ultra-powerful.

In conclusion: You don't have to like Cassie as a (fictional) person, but 85% of criticisms directed at her are bad-faith attacks on one of the 1990s' only fat Black female gnc ultra-powerful superheroes.