#if you wanna I may write an explanation at some point

[chemzee]

Wanted to make in detail post with my "can they ride a bike" headcanons but I made a tierlist instead (feel free to argue argue against these if you wanna btw, I made this mostly for fun)

[quimichi]

I Read Your Twisted Wonderland 'When You Wake Him Up With Nonsense" and Wanted To Ask If We Can Get One With The Staff(With Staff!Reader) and RSA(With RSA!Reader)? 🥺

Feel Free To Ignore😭

Love You❤️ And Have a Great Day!

"=⌕ YOU WAKE HIM UP WITH NONSENSE / pt. 2

⌕ pt. 1 here

warnings: bad writing, as usual, some characters may seem ooc, I apologize, pet names, some might dislike those

summary: You wake him up in the middle of the night with some nonsense

characters: RSA, NRC Staff and Rollo x GN!Reader

word count: 1,995

a/n: some are shorter or longer, it's just that I find some characters hard to write or I write them like I view them :) I HOPE YOU ALSO HAVE A VEEEERY NICE DAY TOO!

Chenya

The sound of your voice draws his attention to you. His breath hitches as he tries to stay asleep. He does not respond, instead he remains still as a statue. It is as if he wants to hear every word you have to say. And he wants to keep sleeping.

"Chenya, Chenya, Chenya, Chenya...Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker." Your voice cuts through the quiet. Your words pull him out of a dream.

He opens his eyes, and he looks straight at you and whines. "Why you gotta pull my full naaaaame...jus' wanna sleeeep..." "Yesterday I saw a motorcycle on the sun kissing the curtains in a cow." He blinks, utterly baffled by your words. His brow furrows and he is at a complete loss with how to respond. Finally, he settles on a simple and tired, "Wha-?" "What I said." You are utterly illogical. It makes it nearly impossible for him to comprehend you.

Your mind is fascinating, weird. You're fucking dumb sometimes.

His lips twitch upwards. That's why he loves you.

"You make no sense, ya know." He signs hard, rubbing his eyes. "And ya woke me up for that bullshit...you gotta pay me back, you better."

Neige

The sound of your voice is so familiar, and the words hit him like a wave of cool air while he's asleep. His body shifts as he starts to respond in the depths of his sleep.

"Wha-" He starts to say, his words faltering on the cusp of waking. "Cutie are you...is everything okay?" he asks groggily, a bit of sleep still clinging to him. If he could blush in his slumber, he would have been scarlet in shame for how his words slurred and garbled on his tongue. He slowly sits up, looking more worried than ever.

"I just saw a chicken picking up McDonald's at the gas station for detention." The words catch him off-guard once more, and he stares at you with a small confused smile on his face. He tries to process what you've said, but finds it impossible without more explanation.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and he tilts his head to the side, looking way to adorable for his own good. His confusion soon gives way to a brief chuckle, and he smiles widely and nods, still processing your words.

"That's such a nice story!...You should tell me the ending tomorrow though..." and with that he pulls you back against him and pets your head gently before both of you fall back asleep. He's still confused tho...

Rollo

He begins to stir, slowly waking to consciousness. His eyes dart around the room, his vision blurred and unfocused as he sits up. "Mmm, yes?" Rollo could never be mad if you woken him up for a reason, a good reason.

"I forgot to tell you that the telephone told me about the flying elephant with rainbow eyes and silver shoes." Rollo raises one eyebrow at first, thinking you're playing a trick on him. The joke is too outlandish to be real. Even this is to stupid for you.

But seeing that you're serious, he has no idea what to say. He is speechless. Oh...so you are that dumb huh? At this point the lord can't save him anymore.

"Is...that so?" he finally asks. "Yes!" Rollo stares at you incredulously as you continue. Every detail you describe is nonsensical and unrealistic. But his gaze remains firmly fixed on yours, and his thoughts are blank.

He struggles to understand why you woke him up. Is this a game? He is utterly puzzled. And his annoyance is starting to seep in. But the look in your eyes is magnetic, and it is difficult for him to hold his frustration. He sighs, "You...you are truly one of a kind, are you aware of that?" But Rollo can't help but smile at you, you just had to turn his life upside down, huh?

Crowley

He stirs slightly, his eyes blinking slowly open. He opens his mouth to speak, but then he realizes you are next to him and closes it again. His expression is soft and delicate, like your presence is a beacon of light in the darkness, and all he can focus on is you. You'd be surprised, moments of his adoration aren't that rare.

"What is it?" he asks with a slight yawn, his voice still soft and sleepy. "So like, I cooked us a clock with sprinkles of snow and the clock then when away with the pan because of their date at the baseball doctor." In spite of his tired mood, he bursts into laughter. A hearty, full-bellied laugh that only he would be so amused by such ridiculous, nonsensical statements.

"Ah, my love. It seems you have discovered the wonders of a dream," the headmaster chuckles, running his fingers curiously through your hair. For a moment he ponders about what other kinds of nonsense you would utter, if this is what your brain conjures just during your sleep.

He chuckles again in amusement. "Do go on," he encourages you, still looking through you with a light in his eyes. "Did the clock turn into a frog? Did the frog wear green boots and sing rock songs in kitchen utensils?" He's amused, but he also wants to know.

Crewel

As you call to him, you can see his eyelids twitch underneath. Your voice seems to permeate his dreams. There is no immediate answer as his eyes flutter in a way that seems to indicate that he's trying to force himself awake but still struggles to do so. He turns onto his back, his head tilting towards the sound of your voice. After a moment, he finally manages to open his eyes with a low groan. His hand reaches for his forehead and rubs it, as though he's suffered from a particularly intense headache. But once he sees you, he stops, his eyes brightening at the sight of your face.

All the weariness seems to leave him in an instance, yet not entirely. He manages a smile for you. "Puppy?..." "I just ate a singing pizza who told me the story of the bees and the snakes who danced underwater." "Ah..." Divus manages a confused hum. It takes him a moment as he seems to try and work it out in his head.

"They danced in...underwater?" He asks, voice soft. "Underwater...is a body of water...but...how does one..." he looks away from you as he attempts to picture the scenario. After a moment, he shakes his head, chuckling softly into his palm. "No matter. That is quite a tale, indeed my pup."

Divus draws you close and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your shoulder and hugging you tightly. His breath is hot against your neck, his muscles tensing underneath.  "Sleep..." he mumbles softly, his voice seeming to get thicker as a low growl rumbles from his chest.

"Or does my pup want to keep being disobedient?"

Trein

(Solid grandpa issues ya'll have here)

It is almost as you say his name that his eyes blink quickly. They become wide and concerned. "Dearest?" he whispers with a hint of urgency in his voice. Though his expression turns gentle as he notices you aren't hurt or sick. His shoulders relax. "Yuu, have you not been feeling well?" Mozus asks, his voice a soothing melody. After a moment, he sits up. The bed creaks with the weight of his shifting body. Even Lucius wakes up from his slumber to tip tap his way over to your shared bed.

"Did you perhaps catch a cold? I could fetch some medicine if you would like." He doesn't want to see you in pain, not even for a moment. Oh, how caring he can be sometimes..."My hair turned purple because I washed it with dirt in the afternoon 13 years ago on a full red moon at midnight."

Silence hangs in the air as you speak. Mozus's expression remains concerned; worried. And then it turns into a frown. "Ah... You must've hit your head. Or else you wouldn't speak of such nonsense" he says. Though he tries to conceal it, a flicker of irritation flashes across his eyes. Your sudden statements seem to have sparked his annoyance.

"Or are you perhaps playing a childish prank on me at unholy hours?" he asks sharply, tone becoming stern. "If there is nothing else you require, I believe you've wasted enough of your time together." He tries to keep his voice neutral, but is obviously still slightly peeved at your game. "I-Im sorry..." His anger melts at your apology. His face melts back to a soft expression as he pulls you into his arms. His voice returns to its soothing tone as he presses his lips to yours.

When he pulls away, only seconds later, there's a content smile on to his lips. "Do not apologize," he says softly, voice quiet. Yet you feel a surge of pleasure run through your body. You feel almost as light as a feather once again. "I'm happy you're in best condition."

Vargas

Ashton jolts awake as he hears your voice, immediately rising into a defensive stance as he looks at you. Protectively he stands before the bed frantically looking around for potential danger with both his fists up, ready to punch whatever lurks in your shared bedroom.

"It's okay! Is there something wrong? Are you hurt?!" he asks anxiously but wild as he still holds his position. "Wha--no?!" He reacted so fast you couldn't keep up. "Oh...!" Asthon blinks a few times as he seems to calm himself. He lowers his fists, though now he seems completely at a loss for words. He stares at you blankly.

"That is good," he clears his throat, clearly embarrassed about the situation, "very good, yes " he offers a small smile, though you can sense him struggling to gather himself. "...so I woke up because the curtains were running away from a wild toaster." Ashton blinks a few times, processing this information. He seems to ponder it for a moment and then... bursts out into laughter.

It's a loud sound, like a true suburban father laugh. It's a sound of complete delight. Though, it doesn't take him too much effort to bring himself back. "Ah... yes," he says, "Wild toasters. They are very problematic." He lets himself sink into bed again, and like before, you're to slow to react. Because the moment his head hits the pillow, he's gone. Snoring the night away...

Sam

"Hm?" The mighty lord stirs in his sleep. He pulls the sheets tighter around him, his body twitching in his sleep. The sound of his name being uttered by you seems to have broken through his slumber. "Wake uuuup~!" "Hm?" Sam finally looks up at you, his eyes barely open. They seem to focus on you, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room before he finally smiles. "Impy...?" He speaks in the softest of whispers, his voice almost hoarse as though it had been a while. "Did my friends wakw you...or...was it my snoring?"

"My shampoo ran out cause the towel used it for their skincare routine." "Ah..." He sits up, his expression still weary from sleep. Before you can even tell him to stop, he's already risen from the bed. He's practically half-asleep as he waddles towards the shop and comes back with a bottle of shampoo in hand.

He doesn't question you or the strange request at all. "There you go," he holds up a bottle of shampoo. "Only the best for my little imp, and since its you...its on the house" he says, although he looks like he's in a trance he does smirk at you.

"Thank...you?" You question as you take the bottle from his hands. Before you know it he drops face first into bed, "But...if ya need anythin' else...get it yourself...alright?" he mumbles into the pillow.

[idiotmf]

Alien scientists who just really want to study you

Another one of my most recent favorites is my alien boy Xyon. Can you tell I'm a whore for 'y' in names? It's a curse, really.

Also, in case it's not blatantly obvious... I'm introducing characters and beings that I wanna write some good ol' smut on later. (▰˘◡˘▰)

For good measure: Minors scram, for the rest: there's going to be NSFW themes but they are more biological in nature.

A/N: Please feel free to point out typos and grammar wrongdoings so I can obsessively fix them. I write these on my phone and chances are I'm fat-fingering this tiny keyboard, since I use my thumbs for typing. Also, English isn't my first language, so there's also that.

This post is pretty long and covers a more in-depth explanation of this Alien species because I wanna use this as a reference sheet later...

Anyways, here's some random lore dumping about Xyon, Xenians and Xen'jai, their native planet.

As you may have already noticed, I loooooove naming patterns. In the previous post it was my shadow demon boys Aryllus and Oryllion, here it's Xyon, his planet Xen'jai and as you'll come to find, most of the other things related to his planet also start with an X. Here is why:

1. Language:

In the native language of Xenians, the X represents a prefix referring to a life form. Xenians are the people, Xen'jai is their planet, and Xyon is a person. Linguistically speaking, especially for humans, the X doesn't translate as such, it is a complicated sound that a human cannot reproduce and the closest possible sound for an accurate translation. (Can you tell I spend way too much time world building?)

Speaking of their native language, Xenians do not speak the same way as humans do; rather, they communicate via a mixture of various noises, including clicking and verbal sounds that could only be described as waving sheet metal in the air. Imagine this but less goofy and with various pitches, echoes and clicks.

For storytelling convenience, they of course possess a translator that can both pick up foreign languages and translate their own. Although I have one story where they just fully cannot communicate for a long time and that one's wholesome as heck.

2. Appearance:

Xenians are in principle considered humanoid. They have two legs, two arms, a head and a torso. Their posture is slightly different, due to the differing gravity on their planet, so their spines are entirely straight, rather than curved like a human's, which gives them a rather uncanny look at first glance. Although if you do meet a Xenian, honestly that is probably the last thing you notice about them.

The first thing is most likely their height. Xyon himself is between 2.5 meters (approx. 8'2) and 2.8 meters (approx. 9'2), which is considered average for a male of his species, with females being slightly taller on average at 3 meters (10 feet). A male Xenian, if threatened or putting on a mating display, can stretch its spine and torso to appear larger and more threatening. Females are incapable of doing so, but as larger and more intimidating presences, they have no need for it.

The bodies of Xenians are covered in fine, dark blue fur, even if it appears as skin to the naked eye of a human. Like the fuzz you have on your face, but more prominent.

Their gray skin underneath is almost leathery to the touch, which can be examined on their long, almost reptilian tails that serve multiple purposes, such as balance, showing emotions and affection, or can be simply used as an extra arm to grab onto things.

Their faces aren't exactly faces. It resembles more the face of a cat, featuring a short snout and a flat nose, although there are no visible nostrils, as Xenians have millions of microscopic openings in their noses to absorb and filter air. Just like felines, Xenians have sharp teeth and retractable claws, paw pad like palms and soles and most importantly, slit pupils, making some humans speculate that perhaps they are a species of highly intelligent bipedal felines. Xenians do not have whiskers or any of the like, since their tail does most of the work for them.

Unlike humans, Xenians do not wear clothes. Despite being a highly advanced race of what used to be carnivorous hunters, Xenians have no sense of embarrassment from appearing naked. They do wear an exoskeleton which serves various protective functions, however their genitals are sheathed, making Xenians appear genderless to the unschooled human eye.

3. Social Constructs:

Xenians are social creatures. They live in large groups, much like humans, often with their families until they are old enough to train for their purpose.

Unlike humans, Xenians are born with a 'purpose', a path chosen for them that they must follow; Xyon's purpose lies within studying intergalactic life forms. Thanks to their technology, calculations for things such as possible base intelligence, strength and overall health are possible before a Xenian even hatches, promoting not only the growth and increasing intelligence of an already highly advanced race but also unethical practices, such as culling of unhatched eggs with undesired traits. This may appear highly disturbing to humans but is extremely common and even considered a relief amongst Xenians, as they lay between five and twenty fertilized eggs that may hatch, yet only ever one to three Xenians hatch and reach maturity due to culling, keeping their race from overpopulating their rather small planet.

Xenians, while not the sole creatures of their planets, are the most intelligent, much like humans on earth. They have moved past their need for food, instead consuming gel-like substances with all their needed nutrients and calories, yet they will occasionally initiate fake hunts with competing parties as entertainment, much like a human would play a game of soccer with a friend. However, they do not kill any animals, rather using their own version of AI to calculate intricate escape routes and keep the game interesting.

While Xenians have both male and female as a base sex, gender and gender roles do not exist to the same extent as with humans. Taking care of hatched eggs is usually done by either of the parents, sometimes a different party entirely, as some Xenians live in mating groups. It is usually the male-coded Xenians that try to impress female-coded mates with their displays of stretching their torsos, however, same sex relationships are common, since mating isn't about offspring but mainly about spirituality.

Which brings us to the point you probably came here for lol...

4. Mating:

Unlike humans, Xenians mate for life, using pheromones present in their sexual fluids to claim each other once a bond is established. Mating is considered highly spiritual, finding a mate is an extremely important part of a Xenian's life.

As mentioned before, some Xenians will live in mating groups, featuring various different partners, which is a fairly new occurrence and sometimes frowned upon by followers of traditional mating practices, which are still upheld on Xen'jai but due to their beliefs in equality, those who frown upon this practice are usually frowned upon themselves.

Xenians with male genitalia possess two sheathed and usually hidden phalluses, which are extremely close together, like fingers on your hand. Both can be slightly moved and serve different purposes. The upper, smaller one can be quite similar to that of a human in both size and shape, it serves to fertilize eggs present in a Xenian with female genitalia, which renew with a new cycle of their native moons. This smaller phallus is extremely sensitive, much like a clitoris and the only of the two that can ejaculate.

The larger one on the bottom is solely used for pleasure, as female-coded Xenians have a mechanism that only allows for impregnation during heightened pleasure, thanks to an additional opening inside their equivalent of a vagina, which only stretches during arousal to let sperm through. Being used for pleasure, their larger phallus has evolved to be able to bring just that. It is both thick and long, covered in small bumps that secrete lubricant for ease of mating but also serve to stimulate the insides of their partners.

As you may be wondering, does a Xenian of the female sex have two vaginas, then? The answer is no. During mating, eventually both phalluses may be inserted into the female, which is a lot easier than you likely imagine, since their insides aren't as tight as that of a human (which is a delightful discovery Xyon makes when he gets to fuck a human for the first time).

Unlike female humans, Xenians do not possess a clitoris, another delightful find for Xyon, all of their pleasure is derived from the nerves inside of their vagina, most of them connected to the muscle that controls whether sperm can be let through or not.

Just like humans, Xenians have contraceptives, since sex is occasionally rather casual. They work differently, however. It is a gel, that must be applied to the smaller phallus, killing sperm as it comes out and blocking the production of mating pheromones that initiate a bond, by triggering the partner to release their pheromones as well. In case of a relationship that is made of two males, both must apply this gel, in case of female only, it is neither but can be triggered with a pheromone dispenser to initiate a female-female pheromone bond.

This is considerably longer than I thought it would be and I still left a lot out to shorten it... Like I didn't even mention that you have to teach him what kissing is and Xyon gets obsessed with it, or that they subconsciously wrap their tail around things and people they like, which... I'm sorry but that is adorable to me... (╥﹏╥)

At first I tried doing the cool headcannon thing some people do with bullet points but I just cannot keep myself short enough to do that*. I also just have a preference for flowing sentences, rather than bullet points. But man...

Anyways, yes, this is a reference sheet once I get into writing some good ol' Xyon x reader smut. (≧◡≦)

I also have another Xenian boi, Xenon, who is a geologist, rather than a biologist but he is still very new and there isn't a lot established yet. Xyon is far more fleshed out and I'm going to introduce him a bit more too, maybe along with some smut.

* as evident from this ending note lmao

Dear gods, I have so many established fantasy worlds I wanna share, so my next lore dump is probably in sight, if I'm not already writing another one.

[i-cant-sing]

PLS PLS WRITE THE PLATONIC YANDERE MIGUEL OHARA FIC IM BEGGINF 🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️WE NEED MORE PLATONIC FICS OF THIS MAN

(Thank you for reading this and have a great day!!)

I definitely see dad Miguel treating reader like a child, no matter what age you are. You could be a strong, independent woman, and to Miguel... you're a baby🥺 Everytime you get frustrated when he tells you no, or doesn't allow you to do what you want, he thinks you look absolutely adorable, your brows furrowed and your nostrils flared, and Miguel just has to just lean down to your level and you think that he's gonna offer you an explanation and in his mind, he does, but all he really says is-

"I know what's best for you, mija."

And if you dare to say "you're not my dad!", he won't say anything because yeah, you're right, but he will stare at you intimidatingly until you either take your words back or change the topic.

I think Miguel is not someone who talks much (but he still expects you to converse with him regularly) and so when he doesn't wanna argue with you, he may or may not shoot a web to seal your lips shut, just so that you give him enough time to explain (which again he doesnt), but he does use this time to tell you that you're grounded and then again, uses his strength against you to pick you up like a little bratty kitten and drop you back to your room.

I also think that Miguel definitely sees you as this helpless creature that would absolutely DIE without him. It doesn't matter if you're a spider-person like him, no. To him, you're just a frail kitten that needs papa Miguel's help to shelter her from the pouring rain and bubble wrap you and cuddle you and just- protect you from this all too harsh world.

And you could be trying to break free from his grasp, going of about how he didnt need you to pull you from your universe, how you had your life under control and what not, and Miguel would just sigh and shake his head and mutter "Teenagers🙄" EVEN IF YOU'RE AN ADULT.

Miguel isnt someone who talks about his feelings, definitely not at first, he just bottles everything up until the lid pops off and someone else has to face his fury. BUT that doesn't he doesn't expect you to talk about yours. He's super observant so the moment he notices the slightest change in your mood, or the way you breathe, oh he's bugging you to tell him whats wrong. I mean he's breathing down your neck, which as you already know isnt great because he is the only person you're allowed to talk to (minus Peter B Parker and Mayday), and eventually, he may even tie you upside down with his web to make you talk. And he's just nodding and offering up solutions/therapeutic advices (not really, they're just compromises) while you're getting blood rush from hanging off the ceiling for so long.

Also going back to the "you're not my dad!" thing, I think if you say it enough times, it does start to hurt him and eventually he reaches a breaking point where he does end up getting mad and bares his teeth at you as he yells "I AM, NOW! AND IF YOU DON'T START LISTENING TO ME MIJA, YOU WILL REGRET IT! NOW, MARCH OFF TO YOUR ROOM!" And sure, you get spooked enough to run off, but not before you yell like a very cliche, angsty teen "I hate you!" and you slam your door close before he could scold you again. He still comes right up to your door, probably to ground you even more, but he doesnt have the heart to open the door when he hears your sobs. Damn, now you just broke his heart. So, Miguel leaves, deciding its best that you two get some space to cool off.

Now I see Miguel as the type of dad who doesnt really apologise (mostly because he doesn't feel like he's done anything wrong) but instead offers a parley or a white flag of sorts in the form of food (like some cut up fruits and veggies, or even your fav takeout) and sure, his heart is still heavy with guilt, even more so when he sees your swollen red eyes indicating how you've been crying for days, so he clears his throat, maybe shifts in his seat a little and asks about your day or something random, heartbreak intensifying 100X when you refuse to talk to him, making him resort to something thats... uncomfortable for you both.

A hug.

I mean this has to be the most awkward hug in history, because Miguel just swoops you up and places you in his lap, pulling you to his chest and telling you that he's not letting go until you talk. STILL NOT APOLOGISING, I mean there is a greater likelihood that you may end up apologising to him but Miguel sure as hell isnt saying the word "sorry" (unless you're dead, specifically if u die in his arms hehe).

[weirdsht]

LOL HI I HAVE A THOUGHT AGAINNN HEHEHE

Cale and the gang with someone who's a mermaid? They're scared shitless because of the insanity their fellow merfolk are expressing towards creatures that haven't done them anything too big. They can be transmigrated or just simply too self aware of what kind of people they are going to face if they keep meddling with other creatures' affairs with no reasonable explanation.

I love mermaids lol 😞

It can be platonic or romantic. I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE 🔥🔥🔥

Out of Their Minds - LoTCF & Mermaid! Reader

notes: thank you for enjoying my fics! I wrote something more lighthearted this time because I'm realised I kept writing angst. Low-key wanna do a pt.2 of this ngl. Also I know betta fishes live in shallow water but they are the most magnificent fish I have laid my eyes on so I wanted to use them

tags: mermaid reader, male reader (it wasn't planned, i was addressing to reader as a man before I could realise it lol), set after cale heals paseton, paseton/reader if you squint, i made a bunch of bullshit information about mermaids since there isn't much known about them anyways

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Out of My Mind (pt. 2)

Sigh 

“This is what you get for working with shady people…”

You stare at the three mermaid corpses on top of a big rock. It was the middle of the night making the sight more eery. It makes you nauseous. Especially as you notice how one of them is armless.

However, you didn’t pity them.

“Serves you right to be honest.”

You whispered in the corpse’s ear as you sat on top of the boulder. Your mermaid tail swaying against a part of the rock that has no mermaid on it.

“How did you lose your arm though? Did you anger the Whale Tribe so much that they took your arm as a souvenir?”

Looking at the sea you wondered who killed them.

“Maybe it was that ruffian called Archie? But I heard rumours from the fishes that the Whale King will beat him to a pulp if he goes too far.”

Humming in disbelief, you continued talking to the corpse as though they were still alive.

“Hmm, but you guys crossed the line first so I guess doing this much to your bodies is nothing.”

You started thinking about what happened to the mermaid tribe as of late. Some shady organizations came and made a deal with them. You didn’t know much but you heard the organization called Arm was asking for a sea route.

“Wait, it’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? You’re working for something called Arm and you lost your arm when you died.” 

With your index finger pointing out, you tried to poke the cheek of the armless mermaid. But alas you couldn’t do it. Too disgusted at their mummified looks.

“Eww, you all look so gross. Why am I even sitting on top of you all? I’m gonna go back now before that weirdo magic spearman who keeps calling himself my hyung looks for me.”

Grimacing at the thought of the guy who insisted you’re his family now, you tried to get off the boulder you were sitting on. You may be an orphan, but you aren’t desperate to acquire new family members.

Shaaaa

As you try to climb down, you hear a soft splashing sound from behind. It sounds like water being manifested out of thin air.

Wait… Water out of thin air?

That could only mean the Whale Tribe. Not just ordinary ones, but one of the Shickler’s children.

Panicking, you tried to turn around while climbing down. Which only resulted in you falling off the boulder and landing hard on your butt.

“Wait wait wait! Is that a sword? Oh my god, it’s Paseton. Wait no should I call you his highness Paseton?”

Teary eyes and mouth spouting a bunch of nonsense because of panic made the half-blood whale stop in his tracks. Usually, when he encounters a mermaid they would spare no time attacking him.

“Are you about to discard those bodies in the water?”

“What? No way! If I did that those weird people would find me sooner.”

“Weird… People?”

Paseton lowered his sword and you relaxed a little. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand before addressing the whale’s confusion.

“Yeah! You should know about it already. I heard the turtles talking about how the mermaids are haunting you because you found out they were working with humans! Oh, but you don’t seem hurt, good for you!”

You gave him a thumbs-up as if you weren’t on the verge of crying because you fell earlier.

The half-blood whale finds you weird. It looks like you have no intentions of hurting him. In fact, it looks like you’re supporting him?

“...You’re that rumoured eccentric mermaid. Son of the previous mermaid leader.”

“No need to make it sound good. I know the rumours actually call me crazy and not eccentric. But yes that’s me, the crazy orphan whose parents got assassinated by mermaids. They're the real lunatics if you ask me.”

Paseton hesitantly shook the hand you offered.

“But why are you here? I heard you’ve gone missing and the mermaid tribe are worried sick looking everywhere for you?”

“You’re one to talk, I heard your sister is going crazy looking for you too.”

Letting go of his hand, you began to explain what happened.

“You already know about it but the merpeople are getting help from above ground. That was also why they assassinated my mother, the previous mermaid leader. She wanted to straighten out the relationship between our tribe and yours. She also initially refused the offer that the humans made. Look where that got her.“

Because of that you became wanted by the merpeople too. They framed it as looking for the lost heir but what they really want is to capture you to exploit your abilities.

As thanks for not killing you, you explained your special abilities to Paseton. Your poison is three times stronger than normal mermaids. You also possess the ability to heal any poison that comes from water and it’s creatures in it. Another special ability of yours is transforming into a fish. A secret ability that only the direct blood of the true mermaid leader can possess.

“My poison is strong enough to do this.”

Stretching your arms, you demonstrated your poison to Paseton by letting it out on the mermaid beside you. This rendered the already armless mermaid tailless.

“The sight is disgusting each time. Not pretty at all.”

You gag as you watch the mermaid’s tail turn into green goo before it sizzles, leaving no trace behind.

“So what do you think? I was planning on leaving these bodies but I can get rid of them for you. In exchange, you’ll let me be on my merry way.” 

Paseton nodded and you took that as a cue to start disintegrating the corpses with your poison.

“Where do plan to go now?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. The mermaids have gone crazy, I’m too scared to even look at them. Both the whales and the whale tribe won’t leave me alone if they see me because they’ll think I’m one of those lunatics. Maybe I’ll forever transform into a fish and create a fantasy nation and call it Lemuria or something.”

You said it in a joking manner but Paseton can see the fear in your eyes as you talk about the merpeople. At that moment the whale tribe prince pitied you. You have essentially become an outsider with nowhere to run to.

He was about to make an offer when a water whip struck beside you.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about, now a water whip is out to kill me. Wait waterwhip? Witira?!” 

You desperately looked at the man in front of you.

“Hey, I helped you get rid of the bodies right? You said you’ll let me go right? So please explain to your sister I didn’t do anything.”

“What are you doing to my brother?!”

Witira’s angry voice from behind made you look at his brother more desperately. Paseton nodded as he walked towards his sister.

“Noona stop, he doesn’t mean any harm. We were just having a chat.”

“With a mermaid?”

Paseton begins explaining what happened to Witira. From how he gets help from a noble to you helping him get rid of the mermaids. He also explained how you’re on the run from the mermaids and the people working with them.

As Paeston speaks you tried to use their distracted state as an opportunity to go back to the sea.

Keyword being “try”.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You feel the humpback whale half-blood scoop your fish form from the shore. 

“A betta fish huh? You’re quite pretty.”

Good thing you’re a fish so the siblings wouldn’t be able to see you blush. Your fins did shine a little brighter though. Light blue with a red and white undertone that makes you look purple glistened under the moonlight. 

But there’s no way they’ll know that’s how you show being flustered in fish form so it’s good.

“What do you want with me? I already did my end of the deal~”

You whined and flopped around Paseton’s hands, throwing a tantrum. The man only chuckled while his sister watched in amusement.

“Yes, yes. But I want to make another deal.”

That made you stop flailing around.

“Turn back first. The water in my hands is running out, you already splashed most of it out.”

Obeying, you transformed back into your mermaid form. You expected Paseton to put you down then. However, he didn’t and decided to carry your bridal style instead.

He may be the weakest of the whale tribe but his still stronger than most humans.

“So what do you want?”

You crossed your arms, pouting because you lost your chance to make a getaway.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you back with us. You have nowhere to go right? You can just live with us.”

Both you and Witira looked at him quizzically. 

“What’s in it for you?”

“We’ll use your abilities when fighting the mermaids. You also have an information network that consists of sea creatures right? We’ll use that too.”

“Those are my friends, not a measly information network thank you very much. Also, didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m scared of mermaids now. I can’t even look at them.”

“Who says you have to look at them?”

You questioned what Paseton was saying. Meanwhile, Witira observes his brother. She agrees with his plan. After hearing what happened to you and your abilities, she knows you’ll be a useful card.

However, she knows her brother. And she knows that the way he's looking at you means more than what his entailing. He also seems confident that he’ll get you to go home with them before the sun rises.

Hmm, maybe that’s her fault for spoiling him too much…

“You don’t have to face them yourself. You don’t even have to leave the Whale Tribe village if you want. You’ll just have to use your abilities from far away and help us defeat the mermaid tribe.”

“...”

You mulled about it for a few seconds. It’s not like you have anything else to lose as you already lost everything. It is also true that you have nowhere to go. Your sea creature friends can only hide you for so long before you have to run away again. It also doesn’t seem like the humpback whale is lying.

Plus Paseton is pretty cute.

Wait what?

“So I don’t have to face them?”

“No.”

“Will I have my own house?”

“Hmm, not yet but I have a house that’s separate from our family residence. You can live there with me”

“Not bad… You promise I won’t meet them right? Including those crazy people that keep calling themself my new family.”

“I promise.”

“Can you buy me a large fish tank that’s installed in my house?”

“Making demands already? I’ll have a custom-made fish tank and pool, just for you.”

“Okay, deal!”

You raised your arms in celebration, already thinking just how beneficial this whole ordeal was for you. You’ll just have to provide them with your assistance that’s being used for the greater good and you’ll be spoiled as a compensation? Sweet.

Witira only shook her head at your conversation. She could already tell she had a lot to explain to her father once the three of you go home.

Oh well, as long as her brother is happy.

[dixons-sunshine]

hi I just wanted to start with I really love your writing its just so good. I do have a request and if your not interested its okay it is angst but with a possible happy ending.

so its a daryl x reader where before the apocalypse r and daryl were together and they ended things right before everything went to shit and then when the group gets to Alexandria r is there and she has kid/s (maybe twins?? boy and girl??) so turns out r found out she was pregnant right when everything started happening so daryl didn't know and idk he like puts two and two together yk? and if you're okay with it can she be hispanic/ latin (maybe that can be one of the reasons they broke up bc yk merl is an ass to POC)

anyways sorry if that was a lot or didn't make sense

anyways have a good day/night much love <3

Two Plus Two Makes Four | Daryl Dixon x Hispanic!Fem!Reader

Summary: A week before the apocalypse, Daryl was forced to break up with you by Merle, leaving you heartbroken, but not alone—soon after he left, you found out you were pregnant. Now, two years later, you come face to face again with the man that broke your heart, and he finds out something shocking.

Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope this is good enough to make up for the wait! Please note that I used Google translate for this, so the translations may be incorrect or awkward! Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes! (Translations will be at the bottom.)

—

“Kids?! Ya were pregnant and ya didn't fuckin' tell me?!” Daryl bellowed angrily, grabbing your arm to halt you from walking away from him.

You ripped your hand from his grip. “¡No me toques!” You spun around, furiously pointing a finger in your ex boyfriend's direction. “Don't you even dare put this on me, Dixon! You left. You walked out because you cared more about your brother's opinion than you did me! I'm sorry I wasn't gonna baby trap a man who didn't wanna be with me!”

“I deserved to know! I missed two years of their lives 'cause ya didn't tell me! I could of been there fer 'em, for ya, but ya chose to keep it from me!” Daryl exclaimed angrily, following you as you walked into your kitchen. “How could ya keep tha' from me?!”

“You chose to run to your brother the first chance you got! Four years down the drain in an instant for that racist asshole. I didn't owe you anything after that, maldito idiota!”

Daryl stopped in his tracks, instantly regretting starting up this particular argument. You spoke nothing but the truth. You didn't owe him anything. After all, it was him who walked out on you. He chose to let Merle's judgement get to him and influence his relationship. Hell, if it weren't for Merle, he would have proposed to you. He already had a ring picked out and everything back then, but he let Merle ruin everything. It was his own stupidity that cost him two years of his children's lives.

“Mama?”

At the sound of a small, timid voice coming from behind you, both you and Daryl turned and came face to face with your kids, your two year old twins. Your son, Luka, was nervously looking up at you and Daryl while your daughter, Camilla, was standing behind him, holding his hand.

Daryl was struck by the similarities both children shared with him. They both had his eyes, and his hair colour. They were spitting images of him. There was no doubt in his mind that these two children were his. He wasn't blind. He could see they were.

“Everything's fine, amores. I'm just having a conversation with Mr Dixon.”

Camilla stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with wonder. She looked up at Daryl, a smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Dixon?” she asked, pointing up at him. “Papa?”

Daryl was surprised. He looked up at you in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. You sent him a strained smile, forcing a relaxed look in front of your children.

“I always talk about you. They deserve to know who their father is. Well, who he was before he left me,” you explained, looking back down at Camilla and Luka.

“Papa?” Luka asked as he stepped forward, his blue eyes that reflected Daryl's sparkling with wonder. “Our papa?”

Daryl looked at you for permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You nodded, silently giving him permission. He was their dad, after all, and he had just as much right to have a relationship with them as you, even if he did leave you. However, that was between him and you, and your children didn't deserve to be denied a relationship with their dad because of it.

The archer bent down, looking between Luka and Camilla as they stared at him in wonder. “Yeah, m'yer papa. M'sorry I wasn't here before, but m'here now. I ain't goin' nowhere.”

Daryl wasn't sure how much of his speech they understood, if they understood anything at all, but it didn't matter. The speech was mainly meant for you. It was to let you know that he wanted to be a part of their lives, and there was just about nothing that could stop him from that.

Camilla and Luka, as if having some sort of twin power, both simultaneously rushed forward and into his arms. Daryl wasted no time in hugging them back, somehow managing to pick them both up and rest them comfortably in his arms. It was relatively late, nearly eight at night and well past their bed times, so they rested their heads on his shoulders, making Daryl's heart swell with fondness. They didn't even know him, only having heard of him through the stories you told them, but they already trusted him. And even though he just found out he had kids, he would kill for them.

“We need to talk, sunshine. This ain't somethin' we can just sweep under the rug,” he told you, allowing you to take Luka from his arms to lighten the load. He adjusted his hold on Camilla, letting out a fond chuckle when he heard her yawn and nuzzle her face deeper into his shoulder.

You let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. But let's get these dormilones to bed first.”

Approximately half an hour later, the twins were tucked into bed and asleep. You and Daryl were back in the kitchen, both having a glass of wine in your hands—liquid courage for the conversation you were about to have.

“M'sorry fer leavin' ya,” Daryl broke the silence first, nervously sloshing the liquid around in his glass. “I dun' even know why I did. Merle's opinions should've never influenced our relationship. I loved ya. I still do. I regret leavin' ya more than anythin' else in my life.”

You inhaled deeply, willing the tears away. For two years you had wanted an explanation, and now you were finally getting one. However, hearing him admit that he still loved you, that you weren't stupid for still loving the man who broke your heart, was both relieving and hurtful.

“You hurt me, Daryl,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I get that Merle was your brother, but you should've never let him influence you like that. I had to go through everything alone. Do you know how hard it was being pregnant and fighting for my life against the dead out there? Do you know how terrified I was? I was lucky enough to find Alexandria a couple of days before I gave birth. If I didn't, I would've given birth out there with the walkers. I probably would've died. Camilla and Luka too.”

Daryl felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. He really hated himself at that moment. “M'sorry, sweetheart. I really fuckin' am. I promise I won't leave again. I dun' expect you to give me a second chance. God knows I dun' deserve it, but I promise I'll be here fer ya and the lil ones. I ain't ever gon' let ya down again, I promise.”

You gave him a small smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, something you always did whenever the two of you had a serious talk. “Give me some time, Daryl. I still love you, but I need some time to adjust to the idea of 'us' again. It's been just me and the twins for two years. As far as I knew before today, I thought I wouldn't see you ever again. Just focus on the kids for now, okay? They deserve to know their daddy.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile, and he nodded. “I'll wait as long as ya need me to. I ain't ever gon' let anyone influence us ever again, I can assure ya of tha'. And I ain't ever gon' leave ya to raise 'em alone, never.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

¡No me toques!: Don't touch me!

Translations (May be incorrect! Please feel free to correct me if they are!):

maldito idiota!: fucking idiot!

amores: loves.

dormilones: sleepyheads.

[mvrkieboo]

Lord, just saw that ask on what if YN is bitter. And ykw? WHAT IF THEN THERES A LOT OF REGRETS LIKE COME ONNNNNN 😫 I really wanna good ending but damnnnnnnnn that scenario on YN being bitter? UGH LURVE THE ANGSTY 🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️

pt. 2 of this ask right here

You've been missing your classes. For 6 days, exactly.

For the first three days, Prof. Suh nagged Xiaojun endlessly for an explanation for your absence, but at one point, all of your lecturers stopped bothering him about it. Xiaojun began to wonder if the lecturers could finally tell that he was simply not your friend anymore—until Prof. Suh suddenly held him back again today. As always, Yangyang and Aeri tagged along.

The lecturer pulled out a fruit basket, patting on it as he gave the three college students—for some reason—a sympathetic look, it even came across as apologetic too. Was the fruit basket an apology for something?

"Listen, I wanted to visit Y/N today, but some bullshit last minute meeting got scheduled—so can you guys pass this on to her for me? Tell her I'm sorry for the messages I sent too—I didn't know at the time. Thanks, guys."

The three looked among themselves, weirded out. Why would Prof. Suh buy you a fruit basket? When Aeri opened her mouth to ask for further explanation, that's when the professor's phone rang—and he took the call immediately.

When he saw that three students were still hanging around his desk stupidly, he pointed at the fruit basket then to the lecture hall's doors—telling them to get out.

Yangyang took the fruit basket and walked out the hall, wondering why the fuck would Prof. Suh bring a fruit basket for you?

There was a folded card stuck to the basket, and they were too curious to leave it alone. Flipping the note to read the contents, it was Prof. Suh's writing, but they realised that this fruit basket was on the behalf of all of the lecturers of the faculty.

May we see you again on brighter days, Y/N.

– On behalf of all the staff of NCU's Business & Management Faculty

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ever since celebrating Jaehyun signing on to SM Entertainment as a singer together, Mark's friend group and your—well, your old friend group hung out a lot at the place where they held the party, which was at Soyeon's café in Sinchon. Geonwoo's mom liked having them come over too, so they often had a fun time together at the café.

"What's with the fancy fruit basket?" Mark got to beat Haechan to it, since everybody was curious about the fruit basket Yangyang was carrying.

"Well, we're actually hoping that you would know, Mark—has Jaehyun mentioned anything about Y/N recently? Did something happen to her?" Xiaojun smiled hesitantly at Mark, and Yangyang places

Mark leaned away from the table, confused as to why Xiaojun would ask that, especially since your name would sometimes be a taboo topic to approach. Yangyang pointed at the card and Mark opened it to read it, now eyebrows all furrowed.

"May we see you again on brighter days? That sounds pretty serious." Haechan read the writing out loud from over Mark's shoulder.

"Listen, this fruit basket is gonna go bad if we don't immediately send it to her, and the staff's money would go to waste that way. How about this—you pass on Y/N's new address to me, I'll drop it off, and then this whole thing can be settled instantly." Yangyang spoke with a jaded tone, leaning back into his seat.

"I don't know her exact address, but I do know what apartment she moved into." Mark offered, and Yangyang nodded gladly.

"Oh, Mark, that would in fact be better. I could just drop it off at the front desk and tell the person to pass it on to her."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the end, Mark offered to accompany Yangyang for the drop off, mainly because everyone could see Yangyang was ticked off that he had to do this, and if he ran into you, Mark being there was to mediate the situation.

One look at the apartment complex and they realised how much of a downgrade it is from your old place. Granted, anything else could be considered a downgrade compared to the luxury condo you used to live in, but your current apartment looked almost run down and shady.

Mark couldn't help but still feel a little bit bitter and envious that you were willing to move into this kind of place if it meant you could live with Junyoung. Did you really love him this much to endure living in a place like this? Mark was a broke college student too, but even he wouldn't settle to live in an apartment like this.

But, in your defense, it only looked run down because the apartment was old, dated, and looked like maintenance is done once a year only. It still had a lobby with a front desk at least, manned by a relatively old dude who looked well into his 60's.

"Excuse me, but could you please pass this on to one of your tenants? We don't know her exact unit, but it might be under the name Jeong Y/N or Lee Junyoung." Mark talked amicably, not wanting to piss off anyone in this apartment.

The older man behind the desk moved to take out a thick binded file on the shelves behind him. It was a long 3 minutes until the man finally got to the page he needed. He raised his eyebrows, looked at Mark and Yangyang, then looked at the page again.

"Kid, the unit you mentioned was a crime scene. The cleaners just arrived to wash away the blood and the mess. The tenant—Lee Junyoung—is already dead. A week ago, he stabbed his girlfriend before killing himself—but I heard the girl survived and is currently recuperating at Taeho Memorial Hospital. It's better if you brought this basket there instead."

Mark and Yangyang went blank and dead silent at the information, felt like the whole world froze for a moment, both of their bodies frozen still—then they took off without thanking the old man, bringing along the fruit basket with them into Yangyang's McLaren. On the way to the apartment's parking lot to reach Yangyang's car, Mark was already dialing Jaehyun's number.

Jaehyun was in the studio, nodding along to a beat he was really liking when his phone rang, flashing Mark's picture on his screen. Mark knew he'd be busy, and Mark always liked to text instead of calling anyway. Suddenly feeling dread and a weird sense of urgency take over him, he quickly excused himself out of the studio to take the call.

"Jae, did you know?" Mark sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him, and Jaehyun frowned at the sudden question.

"Know what?"

"Stop fucking around! If you knew, why wouldn't tell me about it? I mean—you know I still care for her and that I'm still not over her yet, so why the fu—"

"Mark! Bro, calm down. What are you talking about? You're speaking in riddles, man—I don't understand what you're trying to say." Jaehyun walked to the windows, looking down on the city as he heard Mark take deep breaths before speaking again.

That was when Mark realised Jaehyun didn't know. He messed with his hair as Yangyang began to drive the car a lot faster than what he was comfortable with. Did the dude even know the directions to Taeho Memorial Hospital?

"It's Y/N, Jae. Junyoung's dead, he killed himself—but before that, he attacked Y/N and—and she got stabbed. She's currently recovering at Taeho Memorial Hospital. Fuck, this is why her lecturer wanted us to give her a goddamn fruit basket."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You wheeled yourself out of Dr. Kim Sejeong's office. She was a wonderful therapist, and you could tell there was progress in your mental health after you agreed to take up therapy to heal yourself—but it didn't change the fact you had felt pushed to do this the first time you entered her office.

You came to a halt when you saw two men rose from the waiting seats outside Dr. Kim's office. You felt your face going stiff, when you realized Kyungsoo and Taeyong had been waiting for you.

These were the two sneaky assholes who roped Junmyeon into their plan in convincing you to get therapy. You still remembered how hard you cried on Junmyeon's shoulder five days ago.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So you found his body." You spoke out, sounding soulless.

Junmyeon nodded beside his old partner, Kyungsoo. Taeyong was busy getting coffee at West Wing's café. A kid ran past in front of your wheelchair, giggling as it chased a butterfly with her mother just right behind her. The hospital's garden was spacious, but there were still some tricky pebbles she should look out for.

"Yep. Yoonsu hadn't been lying—Junyoung was found at the abandoned plant nursery. They were just about to renovate it when we came with a search warrant—ah, the school's director was so annoying, kept bitching about how he didn't want it to leak to the media. People like them are the reason why I decided to become a cop." Junmyeon sighed deeply, loosening his necktie at the memory.

Kyungsoo smirked at the older man, making a snide comment on how the commissioner shouldn't be so crass in front of a civilian. Junmyeon slapped him at the back of the head—it wasn't like he wanted the position, but it was thrusted upon him. Turning it down would anger a lot of people, and that included his own grandfather who had given a lot of gifts to the old commissioner for Junmyeon to be selected as his successor.

You stayed stone faced as the two bickered, and when they realised you were staying quiet, Jumyeon looked at you then shared a look with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo had told him over the phone you might possibly be suffering from a...kind of depression of some sorts after everything Yoonsu made you go through.

You needed someone to push you into the path of proper recovery.

Both men saw Taeyong walking out of the West Wing with a bag in hand, so Junmyeon nodded at Kyungsoo as he fished the inner pockets of his blazer, and Kyungsoo not so discreetly walked away, signalling Taeyong to turn on his heel too.

Junmyeon reached for your hand, forcing your closed fist to open and placed something on your palm. When you pulled your hand away, you saw it was Junyoung's nametag pin. You felt your heart skip a beat as you looked at it, buried memories unearthing themselves inside your mind.

"...you know, I couldn't stand Junyoung the first time I met him. He was more crass than me, arrogant, prideful—and most of all, he was so goddamn selfish. I hated that guy, if I have to be honest with you, Y/N." Junmyeon hunched over, placing his elbows on his knees.

He stared right ahead, watching an older brother carrying his younger brother on his back, probably boasting about how strong he was to be able to carry his little brother. Junmyeon let out a pained smile at the sight.

"But after he met you, that selfishness started to chip away. He was still arrogant and foul-mouthed—and if he was alive, I've no doubt he would still be that way—but he couldn't afford to be so selfish anymore when it came to you."

You felt your eyes water as you closed your fingers around the nametag, then you felt Junmyeon's hands cover yours, as if he was also trying to keep that nametag safe from the world like you were.

"Kyungsoo told me. About all the things you said Yoonsu said to you before he killed himself, how your own friend dismissed you when you asked to speak with your brother one last time—Y/N, you have to know that all those things he said to you will never be true, you're not selfish. You deserve to live a life beyond Yoonsu, Y/N. You deserve to live a life beyond Junyoung too. He didn't die because of you, he died because of Yoonsu's selfishness—not yours." Junmyeon spoke softly, watching you cry without making a sound.

"I know you resent your friends for leaving you, and I know you also feel like blaming yourself for it because you were the one that pushed them away first, but you can't keep wallowing in your pain all by yourself, Y/N. If they had hurt you so badly, they should apologise to you—but how could they realise what they did wrong and apologize if you're not letting them know?" Junmyeon started to wipe away your tears, even as you started to shake your head.

"But I can't seem to let it go. I don't know if I could forgive them even if they apologize to me. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it." You sobbed out, feeling so ashamed of yourself.

Junmyeon tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear before he placed a hand on the back of your head. This was the same head that his late step cousin loved so much, the same head that Junyoung sacrificed his selfishness for.

"Then get help. Get therapy, receive some counseling. Me and Kyungsoo are scared that if you continue to be like this, you might..." He trailed off, and he didn't have to finish it for you to understand what he was trying to say.

"Please? For Junyoung, at least? He loved you so much, kid. He deserves to see you live a life beyond all this pain, all this suffering...and you owe it to yourself too. Living in misery would just let Yoonsu win in the end. Don't let that asshole win, Y/N."

He saw how your shoulders slumped. You relented, and you started to nod. His hand on the back of your head stretched around your shoulders, letting you cry on his. Finally, Junmyeon felt like his debt with Junyoung was now paid tenfold. At last he got to find where Junyoung was after all these years, and the girl Junyoung loved so much was finally saved from Yoonsu's hold on her.

At last.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Detectives, if my memory serves me well, you belong to Gangnam's Police Force, not Seoul's." You grumbled, not having the strength to fight off Taeyong who was pushing your wheelchair for you.

"And that makes it illegal for us to visit you?" Kyungsoo scoffed from beside you, making you roll his eyes.

You began to tap your foot on the footpad. Kyungsoo caught it, and smirked when he realised he was annoying you. Great, he thought, it's payback for all the times you greatly annoyed him three years ago. It's even more fun when you can't find it in you to whip out snarky comebacks to use against him

"How was therapy? Can me and Taeyong finally go inform your family now? Or are you gonna stall our work for another week?" Kyungsoo side eyed you, and you whipped your head to look at him.

Taeyong cracked a smile, finding it both humorous and heartwarming to see you both bickering. You had been so despondent during the first days, it had him and Kyungsoo relieved to see you having a personality again, even if you were constantly grumpy every time they came and visited you.

"I told you already, Detective Do, I'll tell you when I'm ready. Stop trying to push me to—"

"Y/N?" The familiar voice had you silent in a heartbeat.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong stopped in their tracks, and you included since you were getting wheeled by Taeyong. All three of you stayed frozen at the doorway, seeing so many people in your private room that weren't your doctor and her usual entourage of medical students and nurses (Junmyeon pulled some strings to get you a private room once you were transferred out of the ICU ward. Sometimes you forget Junmyeon also came from a rich family like Yangyang and Chenle).

Inside your room were your remaining family members (Yuno, your father), your foster family (Geonwoo, Woojin, Soyeon), Mark, and your classmates (Xiao, Yangs, Aeri). They felt their breaths stop when they saw you sitting limply on your wheelchair, deep purple bruises all over your face.

You dug your nails into your lap and began to stand up from your wheelchair, alarming Kyungsoo and Taeyong who knew that you were supposed to change your stitches today. Everyone else in the room began to go after you too, seeing how the two men with you were panicking to see you walking by yourself.

You felt like Kyungsoo and Taeyong had betrayed you. You had immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was the detectives that called them over, even when they knew you weren't ready to face them again.

"Kid—" Kyungsoo yelled out, placing a hand on your shoulder when you were already out in the hallway, but you pulled your shoulder away from him so violently it had him going pale, worried that you might tear open your stitches.

And when Taeyong glanced down to the spot where you had been stabbed, he staggered when he saw blood seeping through the shirt the hospital had given you to wear.

"Y/N, stop!" Kyungsoo yelled out again, rushing over to stand in front of you.

The commotion caused everyone in the hallway to stop and witness the scene. Some nurses began to crowd you however, as some of them were already familiar with you and your injury, not wanting you to run and escape when your stitches were obviously ripping. Taeyong held your shoulders from behind while Kyungsoo closed in, forcing you into a bear hug to limit your movements.

You raised your arms and started to pound on his chest, tears streaming down your face at the pain of your stitches ripping open and at the betrayal you felt. The bear hug forced you to your knees, with Kyungsoo whispering something into your ears to calm you down.

"It wasn't us, kid. We didn't inform them. We don't know how they got here, okay? We wouldn't betray you like that. We didn't call them over, Y/N." He spoke softly, and quickly swept you up to carry you in his arms and into your room to lie you down on your bed.

As soon as he lied you down, your doctor came in with her team, immediately pushing everyone out of the room and closing the door in front of them.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Who are you people? How do you know my sister?" Yuno asked stiffly, obviously still frazzled from the commotion you caused earlier.

Taeyong and Kyungsoo stared at the people before them. Just right as Kyungsoo was about to tell them who they were, a voice down the hallway rang through, gathering everyone's attention.

"Detectives!" Dr. Kim, your therapist, appeared.

She staggered back a little when she saw national darling and viral sensation Jeong Jaehyun in front of her. Sejeong tilted her head at him then looked at the detectives for a proper explanation. She just heard that you made a commotion earlier and tore open your stitches.

"I'm sorry, but who are these people?" Sejeong asked sincerely, seeing that all of them were waiting in front of your door.

"Dr. Kim, meet Jeong Y/N's friends and family." Taeyong spoke tiredly, pinching at his temple.

Sejeong balked.

"No! Y/N wasn't ready to see them again, detectives, so how could you! Didn't you promise that you'd only reach them out and inform them once they're ready?" She nearly shrieked, now upset on your behalf.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong looked at your friends and family—well, former friends and family. Both detectives understood that they shouldn't let personal bias cloud their judgement on people (it's literally their job to be that way), but they couldn't help it when all they could see at the moment was Y/N's sole source of pain, now that Yoonsu's dead.

"That's the problem—we didn't inform them. We were wheeling Y/N back to her room so we could spend some time with her and see how she's doing, but when we got to her room, they were already there inside it. It's why she freaked out and tore open her stitches." Taeyong explained thoroughly, looking straight into Yuno's eyes.

"You didn't answer our question earlier, asshole—who the fuck are you, and how do you know Y/N?" Yangyang spoke out this time, stepping out of the group and coming face to face with both of the detectives.

"Okay, time out! Detectives, please take these people to the canteen downstairs to give them the rundown of it. You can't keep crowding the hallway like this, and it's also within Y/N's best interest that you don't overwhelm her once the doctor's done with fixing up her stitches." Sejeong did a karate chop in the air between your friends and family and the detectives.

"Why should we follow your orders?" Mark asked genuinely, and Sejeong sighed at him as she showed them her badges.

"I'm a psychologist working for this hospital, and I also happen to be Y/N's therapist. Please, I beg of you for the sake of my patient, go to the canteen with the detectives. I can't breach patient confidentiality, but these detectives are obligated by the law to explain to Y/N's family on what happened to her."

A/N : might post a pt. 3, but i also might not 🫨

[lesbiandreamriso]

What I really like about Pluto is how morally gray almost every character is (with the exception of my baby Pim). I wanna talk about Kosol and May and why I think Ben is the MVP.

As a certified May defender my favourite ship is still Kosol x Jail. However alot of Kosol haters would be Kosol. Think about it. Your best friend is almost murdered and has to live the rest of his life disabled. His mom who is also a parental figure in your life kills herself. You want revenge but you cant go after the criminal who has all the resources to get himself a slap on the wrist so you go after the shady lawyer that got him off because in your mind its the lawyers fault.

She didnt hurt your friend but she let a criminal back into the streets. Her defense got him a win in the court of public approval. Instead of being seen as the murderous bastard he is he's seen as a hero now and your friend is a nameless motorpunk who deserved it.

Its terrible but it is realistic and the profession of law is fundamentally immoral. The job of a lawyer isn't to seek justice its to defend their client and while we the audience can understand this because we are far removed from the repurcussions of May's actions if it were your friend or your family you would be tempted to get some payback even if you didnt do it.

Cases like this cause me to have a huge amount of cognitive dissonance because i love stories about vigilante justice. I know if this story was from Kosol's pov I probably wouldn't feel as bad for May as I do.

With Pluto alot of the central characters have some sort of logic behind what they do no matter how shaky. The difference between villian and victim depends on the point of view and the amount of informatiom we have at any given moment. Kosol is wrong no matter how you slice it but the only reason why we think May didnt deserve it is because we know and love May.

May knows this too. She may not have hurt Ben or killed his mom but she set his attacker free. Her crime was enabling and she feels terrible about it because under normal circumstances she wouldn't do it. That's why she wont turn him in. She believes those who do wrong deserve punishment. In her mind she did wrong and the universe punished her. The specifics dont matter anymore especially when you factor in Ai oon's relationship with Kosol.

Back to Ben. I say he is the Mvp because he has every reason to hate May and hold what she did over her head forever. He has an idea of the guilt and anguish she's facing because he no doubt blames himself for his mom's death the way May does and he not only frees himself from the prison of guilt and pain he likely lived in for years, he freed her too. If I were in his position I wouldn't have the strength to do it.

This is very much an explanation not an excuse. As a May lover my favourite ship is still Kosol x Jail but as a person who sometimes lets thoughts slip through when I watch shows I have complex feelings about Kosol. No love or hatred just confusion and because of that he may be one of my favourite gl characters in 2024. In terms of writing.

Side note: Ai oon's reaction to finding out the news also reinforces this point. She was far removed from the repercussions of Kosols action. She saw only the "villian" side of May and decided to pass judgement, determining what she did and didnt deserve. Then she meets May and falls in love. Now she is haunted by the fact that she not only enabled the crime that caused the person she loves most to become blind. She inspired it. She planted the seed. We can say she did nothing wrong. I maintained that stance till i found out she knew exactly what Kosol did and didn't stop him. Now I think she is partially guilty but ultimately Kosol is a grown man who makes his own choices and he choose to do what he did. The real question this episode is asking is how do we measure guilt. Does being a bystander make you guilty? An enabler? Or a perpetrator? The answer is all but only sometimes. Everything is relative it just depends on who is telling the story.

The last thing I'll say is there is no villian in this story just people doing questionable things for love and getting mixed results. I know the gl fandom loves a black and white hero vs villian narrative. I have fallen victim to this in the past when talking about kosol and oom but pluto has shown that its a show that requires a more critical lense. Lets ignore personal feelings about the characters for a minute and really examine their actions as objectively as we can. The discourse around the show could be so fun if we did.

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something

A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.

My Master List | Ao3

—

“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.

“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”

“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.

You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.

“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”

“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.

“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”

“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.

“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”

You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.

“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”

You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.

The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.

“Sure, I guess”, you say.

“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.

“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”

“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.

You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.

“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”

“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”

“Oh, no, not really”, you say.

“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.

“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.

“Okay”, you say.

“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”

“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.

“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.

“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”

Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.

“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.

“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.

“You can’t be serious…”, you say.

Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.

“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”

Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.

“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”

You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.

“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”

Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”

You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.

“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”

You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.

“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”

He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.

-

You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.

Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.

“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”

Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.

“What do you want?” Jason demands.

“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”

“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”

“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”

-

The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.

Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.

“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”

You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.

“What?”

“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”

You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.

“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”

You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.

You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.

You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.

Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.

-

Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.

As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.

You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.

She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.

“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”

You take a deep breath, turning away from her.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.

“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.

You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?

You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.

You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.

-

During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.

In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”

-

All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.

Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.

You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.

“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.

“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”

Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.

Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.

“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.

-

The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.

He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”

“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”

You can feel heat flood your cheeks.

“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.

“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.

“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”

“Get over yourself!”

“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”

You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.

He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.

“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.

“I-I…I’m sorry I…”

“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”

-

You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.

“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.

“Is that true?”

“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”

Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.

“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”

Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.

“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”

Not really, no, but you can’t say that.

“Yes”, you reply instead.

“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”

-

You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.

There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Eddie”, you huff playfully.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.

“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.

“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”

Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.

His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.

“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”

“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.

Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.

“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”

You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.

“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”

“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”

“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.

-

On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.

“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.

“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.

“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”

There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.

“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”

“I’m here.”

You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”

You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.

“What? When?”

“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.

You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…

Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.

“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.

You can’t help but smile along with him.

“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.

You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.

You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.

-

After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.

“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”

Eddie nods.

“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.

“For what?”

“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”

“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”

“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”

“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”

That gets a grin out of Eddie.

“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.

“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.

Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.

If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.

Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.

[starrclown]

I saw a post by @nightmarebunnyking talking about the Wukong can't read headcannon and I wanna add my two cents.

I dont like it. Big shocker.

But I don't like it because of he's my favorite or something like that. I just don't think it makes sense for him.

I think Lmk is trying to make it seem like Wukong can't spell or read. The one scene I remember that makes It seem like this is where Wukong and Macaque are arguing and Wukong spells dead like "ded."

For Wukong I don't think that makes sense. He's called The Intelligent Stone Monkey for a reason.

Wouldn't it make sense that Macaque doesn't know how to write and read in modern Chinese? This isn't even to call Macaque stupid or something, think about it. He's been dead for hundreds of years until he was brought back.

He out of all characters shouldn't know how to read or write because he wasn't around for the shift. Wukong was.

Also I can name so many reasons or explanations of why he can read.

Didn't he make his own game? That implies that he not only understands how to read and write, he also knows code.

He has emails from his lawyer. He has to be able to work a Gmail account.

If you didn't know in the book, the baby monkies can talk like a normal person. I fully believe that Wukong would learn modern language to teach them because he would have to be able to communicate with them in a modern way if something happens.

What I think would be more realistic is that Wukong struggles with modern language. Like he can still read and write but maybe some words confuse him or he has a hard time pronouncing them.

Hell you could twist that into a moment with any character.

Of the top of my head, maybe it bothers Wukong that he can't speak fluently. Maybe he thinks he's stupid. He may have trouble communicating to people like Redson or Mei or Pigsy because he gets words wrong and it's hard to interpret what he means.

I could make that into a sweet bonding moment between Mk and Wukong. Mk sees It bothers Wukong because he can't speak properly to the others. He could sit down and help Wukong and they could have their bonding.

This could apply to and Wukong duo.

You like Tang and Wukong as a duo? Tang helps Wukong read a book that has words he struggles with. Boom. Bonding moment.

Mei and Wukong your thing? Mei teaches Wukong modern kid slang so he can teach them to the baby monkies. Boom.

Hell this can go to shipping.

If your a big ShadowPeach shipper then Wukong teaching Macaque how the language works now. The two of them could sit down, read, and learn new words together.

I hope I articulated this well. I just saw their post and wanted to get my point across.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[bluemooniegif]

Sorry if you have already talked about this but do you think Dazai’s bandages are to cover sh scars or something like that or something else like a traumatic injury. I have always assumed it was sh but my friend pointed out that he has said repeatedly he doesn’t like pain. Idk but thoughts would be appreciated :)

I have definitely talked about this before, but I forgot where or when, so let's go for round two!

CW for Dazai-typical suicide & self harm mentions

The fact that Dazai's bandages are such an obvious part of his character design, yet are rarely discussed, is absolutely intentional. As far as I remember, they're never even mentioned in the anime (except for moments such as when Chuuya calls him a walking waste of bandages), so it makes a lot of sense for everyone to be curious about what lies underneath.

Most people's minds go directly to self-harm scars, because duh, Osamu Dazai is the poster boy for mental illness. But then we think, wait... he doesn't like pain? He bitches and moans about it so much, in fact, that it casts a lot of doubt over the idea, and we end up back at square one.

Could it be because of No Longer Human? So he doesn't accidentally touch someone and activate his ability? This is honestly one of my favourite headcanons ever, and very plausible, considering that we don't actually know all that much about how NLH works... like why is it that Dazai can't control when it activates, for example? Everyone else can activate and subdue theirs, so it's got to have something to do with the fact that NLH is an anti-ability.

ANYWAY. Despite all this, there is actually an explanation of what he's hiding under there! It exists within the first few pages of Dark Era, but wasn't included in the anime adaptation. It's such an offhanded, throwaway thing, I don't blame people for missing it (side note: I wanna take the opportunity to remind you that Dark Era is mostly written from Oda's perspective!)

So yes, this is solid proof that there are scars he's hiding under there, but the question then becomes how he got them. We get a few examples on the following page:

Now, this is so ridiculous it's funny, and teetering on the edge of impracticality. If you've read No Longer Human, you'll immediately recognise this as clowning- Dazai is purposefully acting this way to detract from the seriousness of the situation. While yes, he's talking about serious injuries, and even admits to trying to kill himself, he does it in such a way that you just want to laugh.

So can we take these claims seriously? Is Dazai telling the full truth? There's no way for us to know, at this stage. But here are our options:

He is telling the truth, nothing more or less

He's partially telling the truth: owning up to the injuries, but not exactly how he got them

He's lying about the injuries and how he got them

Honestly, I think we can write off the third option, because the way Oda talks about his scars in the beginning makes me think he's perhaps seen some of them before. This makes sense when we consider The Day I Picked Up Dazai, in particular.

There's also something to be said about the nature of Dazai's job; I think it'd be remis of me not to mention it when Oda does. How much is he actually expected to put himself in harm's way? How much unnecessary danger does he put himself in- how much of this is actually self-harm? We may never know, but it's interesting to think about!

[sugarpasteltmnt]

i am currently catching up on neon void, and it is a delight to read. your descriptions of leo’s mind is mesmerizing and grabs the reader’s attention so well. it’s very diverse and unique compared to other interpretations and fics♥️

i’m curious to know what your thinking process was like while writing leo’s insanity and his own thought processes.

(spoilers for ch11) the scene that stuck out to me the most was when leo was about to infect donnie. it felt so vulnerable and raw ahh

anyways i just want to dig into your mind a little to know how it works.

keep up the great work, you are doing wonderful.

WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭 you are so sweet thank you!! 💙💗‼️and ohmigosh what a fun ask.

tbh i sat on this one for a while to think of how to dive into it-- beware of my (VERY) long ramblings below!

this question really got me Thinkin' and i kinda popped off but!! If i may indulge myself, here's sort of a wild explanation of how i approach Leo's Insane Brain for this specific fic:

does it meet R.I.S.E???

R - Realistic? I - Interesting? S - Silly? E - Existential?

R - Realistic

"How the hell do i make this sound realistic" is often an obstacle i run into. but it's also the Secret Sauce. What really gives the thought process direction. Given Leo's current situation, he's battling between what he wants and what he needs to do. Which is often a very real problem real people have. Exaggerating it helps create a fun back-and-forth dialog that can make his thoughts seem muddled.

With Leo in this fic’s setup, there are about five main key factors i rely on with his decision making:

Happiness The root of Leo’s general personification. He’s the guy who beat Krang One. The one who escaped a place worse than Hell. After years of missing home so much he’s FINALLY home. He’s drunk on happiness. He was finally home. And that relief and joy is what makes him so jubilant and goofy.

Awareness of his goal Though Rise Leo is a very funny dude, he's still a Leonardo. Throughout the series, Leo is the voice of reason when things are getting out of hand or are potentially dangerous. Leo's had nothing but time to think. Wishing what he'd done different. Wishing he had been more serious. After five years obsessing over his mistake and missing his family, the moment he see's the opportunity to make sure this never happens again he'll latch onto it. And when the stakes are high, accentuating that tension can help with frantic impact of his thinking.

His desire to see his family This desire often clashes with point number 2. Writing his internal struggle between the two helps with the “overwhelmed thoughts” vibe. It’s hard for him to choose! And he doesn’t wanna have to choose! Playing out the conflict between his 'want' vs his 'need to do' helps me bring out his nervous thinking process.

He's self-reprimanding thoughts We all love an Angsty Leo. It was hinted in the show that he had some self-esteem issues, but who doesn't love ramping it up to 11 for a fic??? That, and he was trapped with Krang this whole time. After hearing he was nothing but trash for five years PLUS the guilt of nearly ending the world, the guy doesn't exactly see himself in a great light you know? This can help clash with point 1, again helping with that 'what he wants' vs 'what he needs to do' inner conflict.

Instinct to Survive / Feral Tendencies This one is super fun. I love feral AUs/tropes. With little to no socialization in the Prison Dimension, Leo's sanity started to slip, leaving his body's natural instincts to become more profound. Plus, with the Krang Parasite, I like to exaggerate how feral/dangerous he could be outside of 'turtle' instincts. (Seeing that parasite hosts in the movie were very violent). Sprinkling in feral moments is just a delicious thrill I love adding, and it makes the insanity factor skyrocket and it's so fun to write 🩵🩵🩵

I - Interesting

Is Leo's thought process interesting to read??? Honestly, I just gun for what I think is the most interesting; Leo's relationship with his brothers (especially Raph), and the cause and effects of his shenanigans.

Also, I liked to experiment with wonky texts to help emphasize key moments or words to grab attention. Mostly because it feels like a fun surprise to read them in my opinion. Though not necessary in writing, I thought using some funky fonts might entice and excite 💙

S- Silly

THE BIG ONE!!! EVERYONE'S FAVORITE!!! 🎉🎊🥳🎉 Something I really love love love about Rise's style is that it's silly It's unique! It's fun! I love that Leo and the others are goofy and have some slap-stick moments. And I wanted to keep that with Leo despite everything. Plus, I ADORE that in this iteration of TMNT, the characters are such showmen. They are DRAMATIC. They are SILLY. And that's something I wanna celebrate!! Plus, as much as I love angst, writing nothing but pure angst is exhausting. (And I'm sure reading pure angst isn't enjoyably to everyone.) Throwing in Silly moments is like a little moment of refreshment to me 🩵

I also like to believe that Leo kept his sense of humor out of sheer SPITE. The 'wipe that stupid grin off your face' line in the movie really stuck with me. I feel like Leo would smile through his fear and still be a clown just to spite Krang One.

E - Existential

At the end of the day, Leo is dealing with a VERY big issue. I felt like the Rise movie did an excellent job portraying the severity of an alien invasion for the setting Rise had. And the weight of the situation would be too great for one person. And this is often what I refer back to to make Leo snap. A relapse in clarity of mind. A moment for the panic and PTSD to come back in full force and make him rely on his instincts. Usually the feral instincts he became more attuned with while fleeing/fighting Krang One. It also goes hand-in-hand with his awareness of his goal (as mentioned in 'Realistic' above).

And that's kinda a word-vomit of how it goes!! Honestly??? The tug-o-war between conflicting thoughts helps me write the madness in his head. It's been super fun and interesting, and I hope it's been fun to read!!! (Though I'm telling you now I will NOT be doing those floating text tables again OOF)

Thank you again for the ask it was super fun to think about ;w; 🩵‼️

[fountainpenguin]

hello! I've been reading your fop fanfics for around a week now, and I wanna say that your worldbuilding has some of the most impressive ones I've ever seen for a preexisting IP. you made excel sheets, charts, indepth character bios including species and timelines and etc etc ITS SO GOOD Ive been going crazy over them. also as someone who's been enjoying the pixies recently and planning stuff with them with my own oc story, your worldbuilding with them is so awesome. so good. I really really like it MOSTLY BECAUSE IM PIXIE-HEADED RIGHT NOW BUT YOUR FICS OF THEM AND EXPLANATIONS AND SPECIES BIO KEEPS ROTATING IN MY MIND I LOVE IT. I LOVE THE PIXIES!!!!! I LOVE THOSE SILLY BLOCK CREATURES to the point I've been rereading your class overview of them three times. I love you pixies. also I may have taken inspirations from your species bio or have it in my mind subconsciously while writing my own pixie oc (and more yet to come) like their defining character traits, how they do relationships, etc etc. nothing too big ofc but it's really great that it imprinted on my brain

I'm still a newcomer here and yet to know more in-depth about your universe, but with the amount of posts you have made, I believe I'll be sticking around for more :) thank you!

Thank you!!! I'm glad you like my 'fics and posts. Many, many, many hours of work have gone into my worldbuilding over the last 9 years and I appreciate your appreciation!

I'm glad the Pixies are getting more acknowledgement these days! They're my favorites... I'm happy to see them get a boost in love even though they didn't make it into New Wish Season 1 <3

Here's a Sigfried for you- I like his tie clip :)

I like his fancy crown hat too.

Thanks again for your kind words!

Links for anyone interested in checking out my FOP work & trying to find their preferred way to explore:

#FAIRIES! - My blog tag for FOP content

📕 Easy AO3 Series Navigation - Customize your reading by subscribing to the arcs / characters you like

✨ Worldbuilding Sideblog Masterpost - Lore galore!

🟪 Class Overview: Pixies - Mentioned in this ask

☁️ Cloudlands AU Guide

🌃 City Lights AU Guide

🗄️ Reedfilter Rules AU Guide

🌈 'Fic summaries page

🚂 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash summaries page

[munson-blurbs]

Hi! I love your Trope or Treat idea! May I please request a story with a Warhead OR an M&M (I love angst and friends to lovers, so whatever you feel like writing at the time) with a Butterfinger and Eddie Munson? Please and thank you 😊🍬🍭🎃

Unrequited love/Shy!Reader/Eddie Munson (also requested by @randomreader1999)

Warnings: angst, rejection

WC: 500

Divider credit to @saradika

He’s staring again.

You can see him across the cafeteria, nibbling on a pretzel while his eyes remain laser-focused on you. He’s been like this for the past week, ever since Mr. Ames assigned the two of you to be lab partners. Taking a deep sigh, you turn to Barb and Nancy.

“Can one of you tell him to stop?”

Barb offers a sarcastic chuckle, shaking her head. “Just…tell him you’re not interested.” She’s trying to be helpful, giving a straightforward and tactful answer, but you know it isn’t that simple.

“Ames told me that this is the first time he’s ever had Eddie show up to class more than two days in a row,” you point out. “And he said it’s, and I quote, ‘not a coincidence’ that it’s when he partnered us up.”

Nancy takes a brief glance in Eddie’s direction before looking back at you. “He’s really not a bad guy,” she reasons. “I interviewed him and his band for the paper once, and he was pretty nice. Intense, for sure, but sweet.”

“And therein lies the problem,” you counter, “I don’t do ‘intense.’ I don’t make tabletop cafeteria speeches, or confront Jason Carver at every turn, or tell teachers to ‘kiss my ass’ when they ask me to turn in my homework.” Your personality couldn’t be further from that if you tried.

“Incoming,” Barb mutters under her breath. 

Before you can scramble from your seat, you feel two fingers tap your shoulder. 

“Hey, partner,” Eddie says, giving a tight, awkward wave. “Did you, uh, wanna study tonight?”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “We don’t have a test.”

“Oh, right.” His cheeks tinge pink with embarrassment. “Would you wanna just grab some pizza? Or we can go get burgers at Benny’s?”

His little hopeful smile tugs at your heart. You almost say yes, desperate to avoid further conversation, but then you consider the prospect of him standing on a table at the diner. And what if you ended up in a relationship with him? Would he pull you up on stage at one of his shows? Kiss you in front of your locker where anyone could see your outright public display of affection? 

“Um, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You can’t even make eye contact with him, keeping your gaze trained on the ground. When you still see his scuffed Reeboks next to your chair, you indulge him with an explanation. “We’re really different, y’know? I don’t know if it’ll work.”

“Opposites attract, right?” he tries, biting his lip when you still don’t agree. “O-Okay. Sorry to bother you, or whatever.”

Your voice is barely audible, just a tiny squeak, when you ask, “I’ll see you in chem later?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head with a terse laugh, “not really feeling it today.”

You, Barb, and Nancy watch as he walks back to the Hellfire table, utterly defeated.

“Well,” Nancy says with a shrug, “you sure made him quiet that time.”

--

[mywitchyblog]

@shiftmaxxer

masterlist

In response to your post:

Thank you for your thoughtful contribution. It’s refreshing to engage in a counter-argument and have meaningful discussions that don’t devolve into insults or death threats. This kind of respectful dialogue is what allows for growth and understanding, even when we don’t see eye to eye.

Part 1: Clarifying Intent and Addressing Misrepresentation

First and foremost, it seems there may have been some misunderstandings regarding the purpose of my original post and the intentions behind it. I understand that you’re critiquing my previous rant, which I admit was written in a heated moment. In hindsight, I recognize that I should have taken the time to calm down before writing, as it might have conveyed my thoughts more clearly and without the emotional charge.

You mentioned, and I quote: "Calling other people of color 'pathetic' for what I believe to be perfectly understandable reactions to race-changing is reductive." I want to clarify that this was not my intention at all. The individuals I labeled as "pathetic" were those who, unlike you, resort to insults and threats, using logical fallacies as their only arguments—arguments that aren’t even valid to begin with.

The only other instance where I used the word "pathetic" in that post was in reference to certain white individuals who oppose race-changing without providing proper arguments. Here’s the passage in question: "As a person of color, this issue is especially relevant to me, yet the opposition I see frequently comes from individuals who don’t share my lived experiences—often white people who have no stake in the matter, telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. They’ll throw around terms like 'DNI,' 'I don't wanna argue with you,' 'if you support race-changing, block me,' or brand me as a bad person without engaging in any meaningful dialogue. It proves that they are cowards, pathetic, and that their claims hold no weight and reek of insecurity."

This quote is crucial because it explains why I referred to these individuals as insecure and pathetic: they immediately resort to name-calling without providing proper explanations. The "bad person" I referenced is someone who attacks me with labels like "racist" or even "pedophile"—terms that have nothing to do with the actual debate at hand. This is an example of a Strawman Fallacy because it misrepresents my argument by suggesting I called all POC "pathetic," which wasn’t the case. My criticism was aimed specifically at those who rely on insults and threats rather than valid arguments.

Part 2: Addressing Claims of Hostility and Spite

You also pointed out that I "completely dismiss any opposing arguments, calling it 'close-minded.'" Yes, I agree—logical fallacies and insults are indeed close-minded arguments. The only counter-argument I had is the one I mentioned earlier; feel free to check it out. So yes, I called it close-minded because that’s exactly what it is. Furthermore, accusing me of writing with ChatGPT is an Ad Hominem Fallacy, which targets my character rather than engaging with the substance of my arguments.

Regarding your statement: "You've stated yourself that you argue in a way to 'spite' people who oppose your opinion." Let me clarify—spite plays a dual role in my approach. On one hand, I genuinely want to uplift and educate people, sharing knowledge and perspectives that can help others grow and expand their understanding. On the other hand, there’s a part of me that’s driven by a desire to challenge and provoke—to make people think harder and question the status quo. Sometimes, that means making people uncomfortable or challenging their deeply held beliefs, especially when those beliefs are rooted in ignorance or prejudice. It’s about making them confront their biases to the point where their limited thinking is forced to evolve—or at the very least, be exposed.

And yes, I will not budge on the point that ad hominem attacks, threats, and insults are not acceptable forms of argumentation. They don’t contribute to meaningful discourse, and they certainly don’t challenge or strengthen any position.

You mentioned that my tone "is hostile and full of what I see as 'conversation enders' (you argue in a way that shuts down discourse rather than encourages it)." I apologize if my tone came across that way; it was not intended to be hostile. In the future, I’ll make an effort to use better disclaimers and perhaps even include tone tags to ensure that my intent is clear. My aim was never to shut down conversation but to challenge the status quo and encourage intelligent debate, free of ad hominem attacks—much like the approach you’ve taken in your response.

Part 3: Hypocrisy and Nuance in Race-Changing Discussions

You also raised the point that I’m "hypocritical for disregarding the value of people's hurt and frustrations and calling it a desire to be 'empathetic.'" This is not the case. In my essay, I acknowledged that there’s a fine line between empathy and the potential for fetishization, romanticization, and even racism if not handled carefully. For example, I specifically stated that "race-changing in reality shifting can serve as a unique and valuable tool for promoting intercultural understanding, challenging racial prejudices, and fostering a more empathetic and inclusive society" when done thoughtfully and ethically (Essay, Part I). If I were truly disregarding these concerns, I wouldn’t have included the parts of my essay where I emphasized the importance of treading lightly and being considerate.

Initially, I planned to argue that race-changing was entirely okay and not disrespectful at all. However, as I continued writing, I recognized the need to include those critical nuances—because nothing in this world is black and white. Consequently, I changed the direction of my essay to reflect this, and I quote myself: "By maintaining this careful balance, race-changing in reality shifting can serve as a unique and valuable tool for promoting intercultural understanding, challenging racial prejudices, and fostering a more empathetic and inclusive society. As with any powerful tool, its value lies not in the practice itself, but in how we choose to use it."

Originally, I might have said something like "Race-changing is okay and a good thing," but instead, I concluded, "Race-changing can be a good thing, but we need to be careful not to be disrespectful, as we have a duty and responsibility."

Part 4: Loaded Questions and Hasty Generalizations

You asked: "You would rather shift to be another race to 'understand' a race than engage with their media, their lived, documented experiences, or talk to others about their experiences? Are others' experiences meaningless to you unless you physically ARE them? If you lack that amount of empathy that you have to become another race, I don't think empathy was ever in the cards for you." I’m not sure if you’re addressing me directly here, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.

As for me, I never stated or implied that in my previous posts. Moreover, asserting that race-changers shift to another race because the experiences of POC are meaningless to them, ergo they never had any empathy to begin with, is a Hasty Generalization Fallacy. Additionally, the framing of the question is a Loaded Question Fallacy because it presumes a lot about my intentions without evidence, and frames the question in a way that makes any answer seem incriminating. It's an unfair setup.

In my essay, I made it clear that "shifting allows for experiencing life through different perspectives which can be enlightening as fuck" (Essay, Part I). The goal is not to dismiss or undermine anyone’s experiences but to gain a deeper understanding through direct experience in another reality, which is a legitimate and complex method of exploring identity and empathy.

Part 5: The Complexity of Reality Shifting and Allegory in Fiction

You also wrote: "For people from the racial identities being appropriated, witnessing individuals casually adopt and discard their race can be distressing. It can feel as though their experiences and struggles are being reduced to mere fantasy elements rather than being respected and understood. This disregard can contribute to feelings of marginalization and invalidate the real-life challenges faced by those of different races."

I completely agree with you that this can be distressing, and I cannot invalidate your feelings—you are entitled to them. However, I must disagree with the notion that race-changing "invalidates the real-life challenges" faced by those of different races, simply because in the context of reality shifting, the line between "real" and "fake" life blurs. If you meant "OR," then I retract my disagreement.

However, to suggest that some race-changers do this with the intention of causing this effect on POC is reductive. As a POC myself, if someone were to tell me they shifted to a reality where they are the same race as I am and then shared their experiences of discrimination, I would feel a sense of joy that they finally understand my pain—rather than dismissing it in this reality with statements like "Oh, come on, you’re exaggerating," or "It’s not so bad after all." Like, why don’t you walk in my shoes before saying that? Oh wait, they did, and now they get it.

You stated: "Being black and being a 'werewolf' aren't comparable in any version of reality. To trivialize a lived experience of an inconceivable number of people (because remember, this is the multiverse) is extremely bold." I have never trivialized or reduced the pain of other POC or marginalized communities. I merely pointed out that they share some similarities in that they are perceived as monstrous, discriminated against, and persecuted. The difference, of course, is that one is considered fictional in this reality, and the other is not.

It is you who is being bold by claiming they have nothing in common. Consider that some writers create fictional races as allegories for what marginalized communities face in our world. A prime example is the Na’vi from Avatar. James Cameron, the director of Avatar, explicitly stated: "Avatar very pointedly made reference to the colonial period in the Americas, with all its conflict and bloodshed between the military aggressors from Europe and the indigenous peoples. Europe equals Earth. The Native Americans are the Na'vi. It's not meant to be subtle."

In this context, someone shifting to be a Na’vi could be seen as analogous to race-changing to be a Native American, only with a superficial, fantastical layer added on top—a "pink bow" if you will. While the Na’vi might be fictional, their creation is deeply rooted in the real experiences and histories of Native Americans, particularly their suffering at the hands of colonial forces. The narratives of exploitation, resistance, and survival embodied by the Na’vi are direct reflections of those faced by Indigenous peoples.

Thus, shifting to become a Na’vi in a desired reality is not just adopting a fictional identity but engaging with the complex and painful history that the Na’vi represent. Whether or not the person shifting acknowledges this connection, the allegory remains. The act of shifting to a race that is explicitly crafted as a stand-in for a real marginalized group comes with inherent implications, making it far more than a mere fantasy element.

Therefore, equating the Na'vi with werewolves, and dismissing the deeper connections between these fictional and real marginalized groups, misses the point entirely. The comparison trivializes the intent behind these allegories, reducing complex social and historical narratives to mere fantasy. It's not bold to recognize these connections—it's simply understanding the truth of how fiction often reflects reality.

Part 6: Logical Fallacies and the Nature of Empathy

Regarding your statement: "Discrediting one's lived experiences (ergo, attacking their credibility) is not just questioning the validity of their personal story; it's denying the nuanced realities that intertwine us as people. If you can do that so easily, how can you become better and more understanding from rcta alone?" If I were discrediting my fellow POC’s experiences, I wouldn’t have brought a nuanced perspective to the subject. I acknowledged that it’s a topic that requires careful handling and that it’s not black and white, even though I tried to simplify it but couldn’t.

However, your assertion that "It won’t fix or better your empathy because you already lack it from the way you react to those who don’t agree with the practice" is an Ad Hominem Fallacy. You’re attacking my character without providing evidence to support your claim that I lack empathy.

In my essay, I discussed how "morals and ethics are not universal constants but are shaped by cultural, temporal, and situational factors" (Essay, Part I). This underscores the importance of understanding that empathy and moral considerations can vary greatly depending on the context and the reality in which they are applied.

Part 7: Nuanced Perspectives and False Dichotomy

Finally, I want to emphasize that it’s okay to feel offended by those who race-change. I won’t dictate your feelings—you are entitled to them. But you also need to acknowledge that not everything is black and white; not everyone who engages in race-changing does so to invalidate or trivialize the lives and experiences of other people of color.

You said: "But refusing to be accountable for the real reasons you race change (and why at least 50% of us shift) is disingenuous." If I were truly being disingenuous, as you claim, why would I have written in my essay that the issue is nuanced? By acknowledging the fact that we must tread lightly and be careful, I’ve already implicitly stated that those people exist. If I didn’t acknowledge that fact, I wouldn’t have discussed it at all.

You also mentioned: "There is no morality play. People don’t shift races to 'grow' or just because they're 'curious'. You make such an (understandably) loaded and controversial topic more innocent and sweet than it is." Let me stop you right there. I do not make a controversial topic more innocent and sweet than it is—I made it more nuanced.

Stating that race-changing is inherently bad is a False Dichotomy Fallacy; it reduces the topic to two simplistic notions when there are other perspectives. I acknowledge that some POC may be offended by it. But they must also acknowledge that not everyone who engages in race-changing does so to trivialize their experiences—quite the opposite.

How many POC (myself included) have been so sick and tired of having people dismiss our pain, wanting them to understand instead of diminishing it? I can’t recall the number of times I wanted those people to walk a mile in my shoes just to see what it feels like. And with shifting, they can.

Part 8: Conclusion and Invitation for Further Discussion

You concluded with: "It makes you someone who can't and won't make room for those who feel invalidated by those who race-change frivolously." So, what do you propose we should do? I specifically said in my post that we shouldn’t be frivolous about it—that we have a responsibility and a duty when engaging in such practices. And yes, I admit that saying "DNI," or "block me if you support race-changing," may have been too much, but when those same people are the ones who insult and threaten me, I cannot be blamed for making such assumptions about them.

To conclude, I really enjoyed your respectful perspective on the subject. However, stating that people who race-change immediately do it for disrespectful reasons is simply wrong. You should understand that nothing in Reality Shifting is purely good or bad, black or white; it is a spectrum of gray.

I’m also quite curious to hear your stance on bi/multiracial shifters who choose to change or "suppress" one of their races.

Ergo i have to refute those arguments, it was delightful to debate with you.

I wish you good luck and success in your shifting journey

Kind regards,

Luno

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Wednesday

I know im late 😩🤣 thank you for the tag @harmshake and @nerdieforpedro . My WIPs are always vibes chuz I plum dont have enough time to write them beforehand. How did I end up with so many series 🫠

Midnight Sin - Chapter 5: The vampire Tyrone is having fun with reader 👏🏽 he may be intoxicated by reader's blood, but he also genuinely wants to know her. Explore her. Spoil her 👀 I sense a shopping trip coming on and some dressing room shenanigans and thats all Ima say.

Camp Wanderlust - Part 2: Reader and Franklin grow closer by helping their cabin earn points during activities like tether ball and swimming. I just wanna see that fine man climb out of the water 🙌🏽 there may be more sneaking around involved 👀

Mr. Black - Part 7: Someone's stealing from the company 👀 but it's also time to put reader in the hot seat with her friends. She been hiding an entire man and didnt tell nobody? Naw sis, you gon need to un-ass that explanation. And they demand to meet him and grill him. Mr. Black got a little punishment for reader for keeping him her dirty little secret 🤭

Feel Like I Do: A Sam Wilson one night stand request that has been lingering too long. I'm so sorry @multiversefanfics I did not intend for it to take so long!! But I have something 🥵 and juicy for this idea.

The King and I - Part 5: The final part. Im not ready to say goodbye 😭😭😭 not 👏🏽 ready 👏🏽 but I have to. I dont want it lingering 😭 time to wrap up that beautiful story.

A/N: I will also try to finish the series I have before starting a new one. I just get so excited. And get to some requests. Now that Sub Tyrone is out of the way, I can get to some others 🥴 yall are creative asf and I love yall for these requests!

No pressure tags: @notapradagurl7 @mybonafidefeelings @saturn-rings-writes @wide-nose-and-wonderful @j0kers-light