#it was bad enough for me to wonder if I should but ultimately stopped before that point

[aquaticaberration]

Everyday I wake up wondering if today I will learn I have a new allergy the hard way again

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search. 

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition. 

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received. 

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all. 

Yours truly, 

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there. 

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea. 

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws. 

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed. 

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom, 

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom. 

Yours truly, 

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew 

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention. 

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them. 

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama. 

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters. 

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.” 

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them. 

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?” 

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?” 

“Everything is wrong with that.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face. 

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.” 

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?” 

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.” 

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.” 

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.  

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said. 

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.” 

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud: 

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered. 

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her. 

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.” 

“Piss off.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms. 

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.” 

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell. 

“I don’t want this anymore.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.” 

“Cecilia.” 

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.” 

“Please, just give u—” 

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.” 

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.” 

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.” 

“I second that.” 

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.” 

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything. 

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?” 

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.” 

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.” 

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society. 

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today. 

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps. 

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness. 

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get. 

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham. 

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month. 

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen. 

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.” 

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?” 

“Not your room?” 

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.” 

“You are getting restless.” 

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?” 

“Oh yes, she’s fine.” 

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.” 

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name. 

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact. 

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.” 

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.” 

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.” 

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?” 

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.” 

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?” 

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.” 

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?” 

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

“And, by the way, I already washed up.” 

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.” 

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room. 

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora. 

“Oh, good. It is just you.” 

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?” 

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.” 

“What?” 

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.” 

“Your Highness.” 

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.” 

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.” 

She gasped as you hugged her. 

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.” 

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.” 

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.  

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination. 

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?” 

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it. 

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs. 

“Is there a problem, Marshall?” 

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.” 

“WHAT?!” 

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back. 

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance. 

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss. 

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…” 

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name. 

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all. 

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.” 

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.” 

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.” 

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.” 

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues. 

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.” 

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.” 

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.” 

They all chuckled when you laughed. 

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.” 

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you. 

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?” 

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.” 

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?” 

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time. 

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.” 

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.” 

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.” 

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.  

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

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[halfagone]

Is it Canon or Fanon?

A little over a week ago, I received a very thought-provoking ask that wondered whether the Fenton parents could be considered good parents after everything they've done throughout the show. I did leave a response to that ask, and you can find the original answer here. But even afterwards, it had me thinking:

Why did we start depicting Jack and Maddie as Bad Parents to begin with?

I aim to answer this question through canon evidence to see where this argument might have come from. Now, something to keep in mind is that we still tend to ignore canon a lot of the time, so there may be some people who won't take this meta to mean all that much anyways. But for the purpose of fanfiction, we have to acknowledge that there needs to be an in-universe explanation to these events and sadly, the 'it's a Butch Hartman show' or 'it's an early 2000s cartoon' excuses don't really cut it.

So let's start with some basic stats. There are 49 episodes to the Danny Phantom cartoon (we will not be using the Graphic Novel, A Glitch in Time, for examples); 20 for the first season, 17 for the second, and 12 for the third. If you looked this up on Google, you might notice that these numbers don't line up with the episode list provided. This is because I counted any two-part episodes as one for convenience's sake. Season 2 has three two-parters: "Reign Storm", "The Ultimate Enemy", and "Reality Trip". Season 3 has "Phantom Planet".

Jack appears for 43 of those episodes, although he does not have any speaking lines in the episode, "Frightmare". Maddie, on the other hand, appears in 40 episodes. The three episodes that Maddie does not appear in, but Jack does, are as follows: "Memory Blank", "Flirting With Disaster", and "Double Cross My Heart".

Let's Start with Season 1:

"Mystery Meat": Jack is shown as dismissive to Danny and his friends' preferences, telling them, "True, I've never seen a ghost, but when I do, I'll be prepared. And so will you, whether you want to be or not." Later on, when Sam and Tucker are visibly shaking and Danny is panting from exhaustion, he doesn't realize something is off about this. When Jazz offers to drive Danny to school, the Fenton parents quickly assume that she's a ghost and go off to track them down... even despite her previous argument that she was mentally an adult (should I be concerned that Jazz called Danny an 'abused, unwanted wretch' to make a point to their parents?) A POINT TO MADDIE, she worried about hurting Jazz if she really wasn't a ghost but Jack quickly dismisses that, as their ghost-hunting device only hurts when gets into human hair (spoiler alert, it gets into Jazz's hair). She also insists that Danny is not a ghost, but unfortunately she ultimately doesn't try to stop Jack when he insist Jazz is a ghost. Standing aside and letting abuse play out does not mean Maddie is innocent of hurting her daughter too.

"Fanning the Flames": When Jazz and Danny are struggling to study for an upcoming test, Jack decides that they should put their kids into the 'Fenton Stockades' which is basically an iron maiden. And yes, the Fentons have an entire floor that is meant to torture people. I feel like that should probably be addressed at some point. A POINT TO MADDIE, she stood her ground and refused to let him put their children inside, and even locks him inside instead.

"Teacher of the Year": After hearing displeasing news about the state of Danny's grades in a parent-teacher conference, Maddie lectures Danny by saying, "Get this straight Danny. You're a Fenton. Fentons get As. Or in your father's case, B minuses." Before this, when Danny tried to explain himself, Jack shuts him up with, "Now that's enough of your sass talk mister." Do a lot of parents act like this? Yes. Does that make this a good, conductive way to help your child improve their grades? No, it does not. In fact, Maddie's response in particular probably reinforces the idea that Danny doesn't fit in with the rest of his family and further proves that Jazz is the favorite child. Not a great parenting moment.

"Fright Knight": In this episode, Jack tells Danny, "If I didn't consider it a sign of weakness, I'd weep with joy!" Not a very promising sign when a parent tells their child that it's wrong to show emotion. It's especially telling, however, when it's crying from joy and not even sadness. Yikes.

"13": This is the episode where Jazz 'dates' Johnny briefly, and we see Danny stalking them on their dates. I've seen people give Danny a decent amount of flack for that as well, so this would be a good time to say that the Fenton parents were there too and even encouraged him to keep stalking his sister. Danny was wrong to ignore Jazz's privacy like that, but he definitely learned it somewhere.

"Public Enemies": Here we see more of the Fenton parents' aggression towards ghosts. We get a line from Jack: "I'm gonna tear that ghost kid apart into a million different-" Notice something here? He recognizes that Phantom is a ghost 'kid' and yet still fully intends to shoot at him with the intent to hurt if not straight-up kill him. The only time Maddie disagrees with him is to insist that she does the dirty work because she has better aim than him. These are not the type of people you should let children stay with.

"Maternal Instincts": Okay, I gotta say it, this is a really cute episode. We get to see Maddie reminiscing over how close she and Danny used to be and wishing they had that bond again. Unfortunately she does get some points docked off for deciding what they should do as a bonding activity instesd of asking what Danny wanted to do and maybe learning more about his interests and who he is as a person now that he's a teenager. But there is this really sweet moment where Maddie tells Danny 'I love you' at the campsite which absolutely melted my heart and then later on when she saves Danny from the ghosts, Danny tells her she's awesome and gives her a hug. So sweet. But then she kinda ruins it by asking her son to act as a distraction and- Please do not ask your teenage children to keep skeevy old guys 'entertained' when you know he's a creep. A POINT TO JACK, while all this is going on he's defending his daughter and even shouts, "Back off, she's a minor!" That's some Dr. Doofenshmirtz energy right there, I respect it. He also talks about making Jazz an action figure, which was a really cute moment amidst the chaos.

"The Million Dollar Ghost": This episode is filled with some great Danny-Jack bonding moments and goes to show how much Danny cares about his father that he's willing to get caught to make Jack feel better about himself. We also get to see how much Jack cares about how Danny views him and he wants to be someone in Danny's eyes. Unfortunately, this is the episode where Danny gets lectured for not doing all his lab chores, such as cleaning the beakers and changing the ecto-filtrator- despite knowing that the portal could blow up if they don't change in time and knowing that Danny is bad at cleaning his own room. And we literally get a scene where Jack knocks something over and tells Danny to clean it up because he was too busy running around to do it himself. Is it important to give children chores? Yes, it teaches them responsibility. You should not be asking them to deal with hazardous, dangerous chemicals that can literally cause an explosion capable of killing people. Something to keep in mind.

Now let's look at Season 2:

"Doctor's Disorders": In this lovely (sarcasm) episode, we have Jack saying to Danny's face: "Poor Jazz. She's always been my favorite." I don't feel like this one needs much more explanation for how horrible this is. Also, this isn't really too relevant to the bad-parent-thing and more to the "they wouldn't take Danny's reveal well under other circumstances" thing, because Maddie literally says to Tucker: "Everybody knows humans can't have ghost powers." Which would technically, probably, dehumanize Danny in their eyes.

"Identity Crisis": There's one line in particular in this episode I wanted to point out, which is from Jack where he says, "Safety features? Why, safety features are for punks." ...I know this is probably supposed to be a joke, but when you think about it, it's even worse than you might think. In fanon we do tend to stress how forgetful the Fentons are when it comes to lab safety, but it's one thing to forget and it's a whole other thing to purposefully dismiss it. I could even argue that we're doing the Fentons a service by characterizing them as simply forgetful.

"The Fenton Menace": This is one of the episodes I referenced in the original ask as well, for its... plethora of concerning material. There are lines such as, "Whether it's air land or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." A POINT TO MADDIE, she told her family she loved them by saying, "Nothing like spending quality family time with the people you love." However she immediately loses those points when she and Jack attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. The episode transcript reveals Danny's reaction to this, which is described by, "Danny screaming, his face and hair flying around. Zoom out to show him strapped to a table, which is attached to a metal arm. Zoom out to show the metal arm connected to a centrifuge-like device on the ceiling." As well as, "Danny is shaking, hair sticking up with bags under his eyes." Is this supposed to be a joke? I wouldn't know because quite frankly, I'm not laughing.

"The Fright Before Christmas": So in this episode we learn why Danny hates Christmas! Which is because he got peed on by a dog. As a baby. What kind of parent lets their baby get peed on by a dog? Again, child neglect is a criminally punishable offense, and if they had left him out, in the cold, with dog piss on him, we could have had a lot bigger problems here. They also ignore both their children for most of this episode due to their arguing, although they go back later on and tell Danny that he shouldn't be alone for Christmas and where was all this concern before?

"Secret Weapons": Ah... This is the episode where it happens. Here we get the infamous interaction. Please note how a ghost is referred to as an 'it'. Not a person, not even a kid. But an 'it' that can feel pain that will go ignored.

Jazz: "Does it hurt the ghost?" Maddie: [laughs] "Oh, Jazz! You know your father and I don't care about that. Jack: "Yeah! If we hear it scream, then we know it's working."

"Micro-Management": At the very end of this episode, Jack makes a comment to Danny, "I'm so proud. Our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president. Here's to you son." Clearly it's meant to be a compliment, but I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't take this as a compliment.

"Masters of All Time": This one takes a more distressing turn, because after Maddie catches Danny for snooping around, she has his strapped down to a table and fires a laser at him to interrogate him, thinking he's a ghost (though the laser doesn't hit him, just threatens him, which... isn't much better). And this is after he's already insisted that he's her son. He is still very clearly a child, and even if she doesn't believe that he's her son (for admittedly understandable reasons, people usually remember when they bear children), the fact that she strapped him to a table at all does not look favorably on her. Especially when he very clearly believed that she was his mother, and he was her son. And she still did this to him. Yes, there were time shenanigans involved, but that doesn't make this any easier on Danny just because he knows the truth.

"Reality Trip": This episode showcases that the Fenton parents can actually be decent parents. While they have a hard time believing the truth at first, they do eventually accept it. However, it is still important to remember that Danny could have never known what their reaction would be, so his fear is understandable and rooted in real concern for his life. Here are some of the best points from this transcript:

Jack: "Imagine, our own son has had ghost powers all this time and has kept them a secret from us. [confused] But we love him! [turning to Maddie] I wonder why he didn't trust us enough to tell us." Jazz: "[sarcastically] Hmm, let me guess. [mimicking Jack] "Hey, Maddie, let's destroy the ghost!" [mimicking Maddie] "No, Jack, let's dissect the ghost." [mimicking Jack again] "I know, let's catch the ghost and rip it apart molecule by molecule!" [normal voice, sarcastic again] You guys are so understanding." [Jack and Maddie drop their gazes, ashamed.]

Moving onto Season 3:

"Eye for an Eye": This is more a passing mention, but Jack seems to be a little obsessed with the GIW and huge fans of their work, and you do see it some more in "Livin' Large" later on in the season as well.

"Girls' Night Out": We see Jack trying to make an effort with Danny in this episode again. I did point out in the original ask reply that Jack was obviously trying to be a good father for Danny, which definitely deserves some points. However, it is still important to point out how generally uninterested Danny was in the bonding activity. It goes back to how Maddie ignored the chance to give Danny a choice, and how dismissive they tend to be towards him. I still want to award Jack a point for looking for advice from 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!' but I do so half-heartedly. Their interactions in this episode definitely reek with discomfort, but considering everything that has gone down in between now and "The Million Dollar Ghost", that does make sense.

"Torrent of Terror": This is another instance of extreme lack of safety precautions- the airbags don't deploy? In the GAV??? Somewhere out there, OSHA is crying.

"Forever Phantom": Maddie and Jack show a lot of anti-Phantom rhetoric in this episode. So this tracks how uncomfortable and/or threatened Danny might feel at home. Some examples include:

Jack: "He keeps this up he's liable to make people forget he's nothing but a putrid rancid ball of self-aware protoplasm."

Maddie: "Don't be fooled sweetie. He's up to something. Remember that time he attacked the mayor? Or stole everyone's Christmas presents? Once a filthy ghost always a filthy ghost."

"Livin' Large": Something to remember, the GIW intend to fire a missile into the Ghost Zone after gaining access to the Fentons' portal. While they didn't have the password right away, it cannot be understated that the Fentons basically gave away their house in exchange for wealth. Thankfully the missile was just a fake and not a real weapon of mass destruction, but do not mistake this to mean that- had it been real- the GIW wouldn't have gone through with it. And the Fenton parents would have been just as responsible.

And that concludes our canon research for this argument! Let's wrap things up with some stats. Of the 49 episodes in the show, we have evidence in 21 episodes. That is roughly 43% of the show, and this does not include comments that Danny has made about his parents and how they treat him. Obviously, at the end of the day, human error is possible. There is always a chance that I could have missed another piece of information, or perhaps another thoughtful addition to this list. However, 43% is no laughing matter.

Yes, the Fenton parents had their shining moments, but with all the other evidence presented that overshadows those little gems, can you confidently say that they are good parents? And most of all, if you were in Danny's shoes, would you say the same thing?

It's easy to excuse this as a cartoon. When you're writing in this world, playing with these characters, that excuse instantly evaporates.

Thank you for reading, I hope you all learned something about the Fenton parents like I did.

[harfanfare]

Hey! I really love your "how to win the heart of." Can you do one for Vil? If not that's totally fine I'm just curious.

How to win the heart of Vil Schoenheit?

Be a fan.

You like to think that the oldest memory you can recall is how you became Vil’s fan.

Until then, the recitals your school took you on were boring. Only in fifth grade, the teachers realise that, hm, maybe ancient plays might be a bit too much for those little brains, and in a spark of determination to change something, your class was taken to watch a staged version of a fairy tale, played by youngsters for youngsters.

The memory of Vil, the villain of the story, entering the scene is much more vivid. Even as a child, he was inarguably elegant and strikingly beautiful, it left you agape and your curious heart beating loudly in your chest.

“It’s better than having a completely fictional crush,” your classmate said after you confessed how much endeared you were by Vil and his acting. You listened as you typed a password to a newly-created Magicam account, solely for following him there. “There is a chance that you and him will be together.”

“A big chance?”

“Uh, like this?” She tries to show how big your chance is with her fingers. She wants to leave a gap between her fingers, but ultimately, they touch, and she puts her hands down. “I mean, we are almost the same age, so maybe you can go to the same high school as him? In a very long future…”

“I am not delusional…”

Nonetheless, the thought did make you hope.

After you reached the age of sixteen, the invitation came. For a whole year — since you saw Vil’s post on his new college choice — you’ve been pondering whether you’ve possessed enough magic talent to get into Night Raven College, the school of chosen. In good dreams, the Magic Mirror deemed your soul to be solely fit for Pomefiore. In nightmares, you were doomed to… well, any other dorm, if you were a student at NRC at all.

And maybe dreams really come true because the future you’ve anticipating has turned into a reality.

“Alright, is everyone from Pomefiore here?” Your heart stops when you hear that wonderful voice, this time not from your phone nor from 100 meters away from the speakers. You turn around, and there he is, Vil Schoenheit in all his glory stands and guides the students to the hall of mirrors. He looks like a portrait, and even if you saw his face thousands of times, the glint in his eyes redeems you speechless. “Congratulations, everyone. We will hold the welcoming introductions at our dorm. Follow me!”

Yes, Vil Schoenheit is your idol. And in the first seconds of meeting him, you were ready to follow him to the end of the world.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Get rejected. Have your heart broken.

“I apologize,” Vil says slowly, and you notice how his voice is a little monotonous. Just a bit, as if he had repeated these words countless times like the lines before a recital. “And while I wholeheartedly appreciate your feelings, [Name], I want to focus on my studies and career. It’s a bad time for me to think about dating. Nonetheless, thank you for being brave and sincere enough to tell me all of this.”

You nod. The pain in your chest gives you goosebumps. It makes your head spin so fast your legs feel unstable as if there is some shift in gravity. You bow with curtsy because every Pomefiore student should be able to do so elegantly even on a space station. “Thank you for listening to my confession.”

“Of course,” he says and looks down at the letter he got from you. It’s neat, somehow cute with how carefully his name is written on it. He holds it gently so as to not crinkle the delicate paper. “I will read the contents tonight.”

“Thank you. No need to write a response,” you force a little chuckle and excuse yourself. You will be overthinking how could you say something like that after you get over your stupid letter and even dumber confession.

Vil doesn’t say anything as you walk a little too fast to keep the step elegant. He sighs at this view and mindfully tucks your letter amid the pages of the book. Now’s the time for history class. He shouldn’t get distracted—

—and soon enough, you’re out of his mind.

That is until he reads your letter.

It's a beautifully crafted confession, put into elegant lettering and a pale pink envelope. It's sealed with red wax in the shape of a perfect heart; if you haven't used magic, it must've taken several evenings to get the precision you wanted.

You’re his fan. He knows it even if you hadn’t pointed it out; the well-tailored sentences betrayed your utter attention on him in the last several years. You’re his fan, but you don’t cheapen yourself. He is the idol you admire and love, but you don’t degrade yourself to a servant or a worshiper. And that is, unexpectedly, uncommon.

The letter is—also—a challenge to yourself. “If you were to reciprocate those feelings, I will prove myself worthy to stand by your side,” it reads.

He likes that letter. Once he finishes it, he skims over the text one last time and puts it between many other letters he has gotten. Between them, another envelope seems unremarkable, yet the words there…

Unforgotten.

He sighs. Maybe he will pay more attention to you from now on.

‏‏‎ ‎

3. Don’t remember all the etiquette rules.

“You wrote in your letter that I've inspired you to learn. Go on, then. Show me how motivated you are.”

So, now Vil bullies you over your letter.

He can’t be satisfied with your scarce etiquette knowledge—he wouldn’t be content if it was decent, as it would be a dishonour to Pomefiore—but amusement crinkles in his eyes at your utter confusion over the numerous forks, knives, spoons and glasses. They’ve been spread out in several rows and columns varying from the oyster forks to champagne flute.

You hesitate. Maybe you could point out which one is the butter knife or sugar spoon, but you never cared enough to discover which fickle knife is a fish knife. Should you be looking for the one with grooves or an extremely thin one? Would it hurt to use a normal knife to eat the salmon?

Oftentimes you’re thankful there is no awkward silence between you and Vil after your confession, but you can’t shake off the impression he’s been harder on you.

“On second thought, maybe I wasn't motivated enough to learn all the names of cutlery,” you say, not daring to try your luck in labelling each piece.

To your surprise, Vil smiles and uses a teasing tone that leaves you stunned and wide-eyed. “Is that so?”

You take a breath and huff, lowering your eyes. “Yes. The power of—,” unrequired, you bite your tongue on that bitter word, “—love ends here.”

Vil cracks another delighted smile. You start suspecting that someone drugged him with a smiling potion, as you should have received a severe scolding by now. You don’t have anything against the change, so the mention of Vil’s (relative) laid-backness goes unmentioned.

“I will have you seated next to me on tomorrow's dinner, so don't even think of slacking off,” he says, putting a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you towards the next table where the heavy textbooks look so very uninviting. “I won't have any student under my wing not know the basic etiquette. Especially if it’s my fan.”

‏‏‎ ‎

4. Have opinions and the courage to voice them.

Because standing for your own makes you flourish in your own colours and not blend into the monotony of the mainstream. Seek truth, good, and beauty and you will bestow the brilliance upon yourself.

‏‏‎

5. Try to have a healthy lifestyle.

You’ve never imagined Vil barging into your room with a tray of food. Why would he? But here you are, sitting in front of an aesthetically pleasing breakfast, mouth-watering pancakes with cream and a bit of honey, and the deep green shake in question that suits the colour palette but probably tastes awfully, like all good stuff packed with vitamins.

“You should never starve yourself if you want to live healthy.”

It’s hard to swallow anything as your dorm leader glares at you, but Vil refuses to leave you before he sees you eating the stuff he brought. You wondered if he prepared the breakfast himself. Probably not.

“No? I thought that keeping a diet is good.”

“If you are dieting you eat,” Vil hisses and sinks a little more into the couch. He brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he suddenly got struck with a headache. “Oh, heavens. What am I going to do with you?”

“Maybe—”

“Quiet,” it apparently was a rhetorical question. Maybe Vil would be mad at any answer from you as he considers you a fool. He waits until you take another bite of the pancake. “A dinner break will be in two hours, and I expect you to be there.”

“I think I will still be full by that time,” you admit, glancing at a pancake and a half. “These pancakes are savoury but so very filling.”

“Savor them as much as you like,” Vil says somewhat proudly. …Maybe he did make those pancakes? No. He wouldn’t bother this much. The satisfied note in his voice makes you ponder nonetheless. “But you have no excuse for yourself not to sit with us on the meals. Also—”

His gaze grows unexpectedly impish as his eye catches something.

“I will reeducate you on the topic of a healthy lifestyle,” he glances at the bowl of bland lettuce you prepared for yourself. He smiles, either in amusement or light pity. “It should have a little more… spice.”

‏‏‎ ‎

6. Take an interest in high culture.

“It feels like the hellish lessons of Heartslabyul…”

“The Queens’ 810 rules?” Vil’s smile is lopsided and his eyes render into a knowing look once they meet your gaze. “They are nothing compared to a number of customs in etiquette.”

You take a turn. The classes for today might have ended, but if hearing all that useful stuff meant you would walk with Vil back to Pomefiore, you could bear another few minutes of a lecture. You know that everything he tells you about, he already mastered. He wouldn’t teach you anything half-heartily.

“The etiquette of speaking, the dress code, the knowledge of dinner manners (well, you’ve mastered some part of it already, with the cutlery lessons), the control of body language, the indication of voice, the honorifics, the art of writing letters and emails… You don’t want me to list all of the things I expect from you?”

You would like to, because Vil’s voice is beautiful, but the student part of you takes over control and shakes your head. Just like Riddle, who has a reputation for demanding impossible care and inquiring rules, your dorm leader is not much better — maybe even worse, because while Heartslabyul has to oblige the absurd in chosen hours or circumstances, you are on your toes in every moment.

“So much to master in just four years in the NRC…”

“It’s a lot,” Vil says, and he’s the only person you would doubt if he speaks the truth in that matter. Especially if through your walk his strides seemed perfectly calculated and hand gestures finely planned. “But if you put a mind and heart into it, you will learn all of this in no time.”

You hum. It’s hard to think of having any more motivation than from where you were a zealous Vil fan.

You ask (ponder) and he delivers.

“Actually, I have an offer: if you’ll learn it all in ahead of time, I will teach you a dating etiquette.”

…

What?

“…Dating etiquette?!” You shriek so loudly, that several students turn their heads. You cover your mouth as if it would do something, and ignoring Vil’s delighted gaze, and lower your voice to a whisper. “There is such a thing?”

“Of course. Who should invite who on the first date and where, what gifts can you give and what can you accept, and how to behave with your loved one, like,” he pauses a little, and you almost know he bites the sides of his cheeks to contain himself from smiling, “How to kiss someone in particular situations.”

You want to die. How else should you react? How can he tease you so much when he rejects you? (Not like you were expecting much at the time, yet…)

“There is no kissing etiquette. You tease me…”

“Just a little,” Vil laughs, and you slowly relax. “But take my proposal seriously. If I can give you another motivation to engage in your studies, then I will by all means do so.”

‏‏‎ ‎

7. Get an access to his private Magicam account.

“Do you have Magicam? If you want to, you can add me.”

Vil asks the question. He should have chastised you for mindlessly scrolling through social media because you can probably put your mind and hands to better use. The casual tone surprises you, but the inquiry gets you defensive as if it questioned you being Vil’s fan.

“I’ve already been following you for years,” you declare and pull up your phone.

Before you get to his profile, Vil sighs.

“Not the promotional account,” he says. “Mine.”

You frown. Many times you’ve seen Vil posting the photos on the “promotional account” with his personal thoughts. Maybe because you've been blinded by the elegance and harmony of every post, the idea that he would operate the Magicam profile solely for business purposes has never occurred to you.

“You have another account?” You ask, flabbergasted.

Vil rolls his eyes at the surprise in your tone and sits next to you. Your phone beeps as you get a notification about a new user following you. In a heartbeat, you follow the account back. You almost gape at the pictures there; they are beautiful, elegant, and all in Vil’s manner, but he looks like… a common student. Not ethereally, not otherworldly, but still enchantingly.

“It’s a private profile, so I ask you for discretion. I would like to keep this one for my close friends and family,” Vil says, and you hastily nod, your heartbeat sounding like a drumbeat in your ears. Having access to his personal account felt… personal, ironically.

I would like to keep this one for my close friends — he said that, didn’t he? Does he consider you a close friend?

That’s more than you ever imagined.

And yet you dare to dream for more.

You pull your phone close to your chest. “I feel honoured.”

Vil smiles at the statement. “Of course. As you should.”

‏‏‎ ‎

8. Let yourself be pampered.

“Don’t move,” Vil asks for impossible because you want to bolt as he leans to you once again and only the glare he staggers you with as you push away the urge to close your eyes. You hope the foundation is thick enough to cover a blush that creeps on your face. “You will ruin my work.”

You give up and glance down, earning another heavy sigh from your superior.

“Maybe I should finish the eye makeup myself?” You offer. “I am unused to anyone doing my makeup, so it’s hard not to flinch.”

Your good intentions get ruined as the question aggravates Vil even more because he frowns at you. Staying put and keeping quiet about that whole ordeal would seem like a lovely idea, you question whether your heart could manage another hour in this setup.

“Don’t be absurd,” he says. “We need to handle your sensitivity to the touch or you will struggle in the future if you decide to be a model.”

“I am not—”

“Stop.”

“I—”

“Silence. Be quiet, potato,” he presses his finger to your lips to seal them shut. You feel something sticky, and as his finger traces your lips, you realize it’s the lip gloss, and it’s a very good-smelling one like a strawberry; you didn’t expect something so sweet-tasting to be in Vil’s liked products. “You are under my care now. It also brings me satisfaction to see my skills used on someone.”

“Vil—”

“Shut up,” it’s hard to get offended at him, as he uses such a gentle tone. He takes a good look at your lips and as he glances up at you, probably to see if the colours of the whole makeup are consistent, your mouth goes dry. “Before I tell you to do so, don’t speak. You will mess up with the lip gloss and it’s… difficult to apply one on you.”

What? It’s difficult to apply the lipgloss on you?

Alright**,** you nod, pondering if the lip makeup is really that difficult. Do you have an unusual shape of lips (it’s probably not that?), or is this balm so hard to spread? You sit still, as Vil moves closer to you.

Yeah, except for the touch you need a way to ignore the beating of your heart.

‏‏‎ ‎

9. Move on from your heartbreak.

“Would you like to go out with me today?”

A kind smile convinced you to agree, although you barely recognize the name of the boy standing in front of you. His voice was hopeful, and you were reminded of the time you bore the same expectant expression.

You had no heart to let it fall, not right now, not so quickly, so you paint a delighted smile over your face. “Thank you. I would love to.”

…

You should’ve done this a long time ago.

For the sake of your friendship with Vil, you decide to stop hoping that the man of your dreams might change his mind after getting to know you better. He found a friend in you, and you would hate to disappoint him with your longing for him.

So, you should distract yourself from him and fall in love with someone else.

Today’s date will be a perfect opportunity.

You dress quite stylishly, not enough to steal all the attention, but enough to impress your date. You put more effort into the makeup this evening and spend some time picking the most fitting jewellery. The perfume you picked is subtle but alluring and chic, an excellent concoction, but you could’ve expected nothing less from Vil’s recommendation.

…It feels kind of wrong to use everything he taught you to prepare for a date, but you would’ve used this knowledge one day either way, no? It’s not like he is your first… and last love.

“I heard a boy from Scarabia have confessed to you,” the familiar voice you love but don’t want to hear like now spooks you. Vil leans on your door frame, and you wonder how much he has stayed here.

“I just agreed on a date,” you say, standing up and adjusting the folds of your outfit. You look him in the eye. “How do I look?”

Vil snorts, and his lips stretch into a mean, devilish smile. “Are you expecting an approving comment from me?”

Asking the fashion icon to rate your outfit might’ve been a wrong move. You shake your head.

“Nevermind. He’ll have to deal with however I am if he doesn’t want me to be late,” after glancing the last time into the mirror and receiving a smile from your reflection, you pick up your phone. “Well then. I shall get going.”

Vil is still, as if he hasn’t been blocking the exit or as if he wanted to keep you here. You would have loved for him to stop you here. It’s hard to stop the disappointment from flooding over your composure when Vil moves away.

“Alright. Your look is satisfactory so that Scarabia boy better be grateful for being able to go out with you,” he says something ambiguous again, and you feel bad for your date who will have to deal with such a lovesick fool as you. “Enjoy your date.”

The pang of pain pierces your heart. You smile slowly and leave the room.

The heartbreak better goes away as soon as possible, or you’ll go crazy if the thought of dating anyone else hurts that much.

‏‏‎ ‎

10. Look kissable.

“You’re late.”

Maybe you are, but you haven’t been expecting Vil waiting for you. He sits on a sofa, a book is in his hand and the tea that was served in front of him looks cold. You can guess he’s been sitting here for a while.

“How did it go?”

“It went well, I think,” you say. The date went well. Yet, you couldn’t have enjoyed it. The throbbing pain in your heart strained each of your smiles, and it surged when the Scarabian student started to be flirty. You felt as if you were cheating. “He is a kind guy. He has some hobbies and is quite charismatic, so… He’s alright.”

Vil hums. “Will you settle on ‘alright’?”

You stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t look bothered at all. He didn’t lift his gaze from his book, and his tone was nonchalant, so he almost seemed not interested. He was. He is because Vil never asks the question to whose answers he doesn’t want to hear.

“Pardon?”

He spares you a glance.

“I thought your resolution was stronger. What happened to the person who confessed to me and was so willing to determine their worth to me?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I am furious,” he lifts from the sofa, the book forgotten. The air around suddenly grows warmer, and the shiver you didn’t mind that much runs down your spine. Vil’s strides are slower than usual, creating an imposing image of himself before he stands just before you. “If you want to set the bar so low, go on. But let me give you a taste of ambition.”

He twists his head so his eyes meet directly yours. He doesn’t touch you — not yet — but you can feel a warm breath on your cheek, and the scent of his light perfume envelops you. You have the urge to move away and cling to him at the same time. They balance, and you stay still.

A taste…

Vil puts a hand on your cheek. The gesture is much softer and more benevolent than when he was putting makeup on you. His eyes lock with yours, your heart stops, and then they drop to your lips. He moves a thumb over them.

And he kisses you.

In your dreams, you had him kiss your hand, the top of your head. The corner of your mouth. In your boldest wishes, you wanted him to kiss you like that, so lovingly, with so much care. It makes you want to push away for more air, but it makes you worry Vil will disappear if you break the kiss, as all the dreams shatter upon the morning.

He moves away, not breathless, yet not unaffected either. His cheeks burn slowly into a red shade, and his eyes look somehow glassy. “I told you, I will give you just a taste.”

How disappointing.

Before you can say something, he pushes a letter between your fingers. Its envelope matches the one you gave him several months ago. “Read it. I want an answer by midnight.”

The big clock on the wall shows you have over three hours. So much time, and you already know the answer. “You will wait this long?”

“I am giving you a chance and hope,” he says with a subtle smile. The blush on his face makes him more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him. “It’s my duty of your idol to do so.”

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I am so happy you're back and seem to be doing even a little bit better! We missed you!

I wanted to send a little message, so you can ignore it if it sours your mood or you don't feel like dealing with it, feel no pressure at all! It's just this blog has been a safe space and the community has been so welcoming that I figured I could vent really quick

You know when sometimes the brain just has a really shitty day, like when you draw something and it screams at you that it's trash even though there's nothing wrong with it? I've been having a rough time with it deciding to scream that comfort characters would cheat, probably as an 'You are so unlovable not even fictional characters would be loyal' bullshit. Now, logically, I know this makes -67 sense. But, I was wondering if you could just reassure that like, Sanji, Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Crocodile, Blablablablabla long list of One Piece characters you write for, would not cheat? I'm sorry, this sounds lame to even write out but I'm trying to get my brain to stop thinking that asking for help is 'pathetic' because it is not and it only applies that logic to me, never to anyone else.

I dunno man. Brains and bring human ate both though af.

I missed all of you as well. Really and sincerely. I have a tendency to go radio silent when I'm going through a difficult time and I hate it immensely, but hearing that I was missed to makes me all

And yes, oh gods, I know. My brain is frequently my worst enemy. Especially when I'm not writing. My anxiety starts working overtime and my creative drive becomes dedicated to coming up with problems that could potentially happen for me to worry about even more and it's an absolute bitch; or even when I am actively creating and a little voice insists that everything I make is stupid garbage.

This is still very much and always will be a safe space. It definitely is awful to feel that unworthy of love. Full disclosure, I've mentioned in passing before that I've been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder depressive type. My main issue is auditory hallucinations that like to insist that everyone I love and care about only tolerate me out of pity and secretly would rather I not be around, which leads to me isolating myself from people. Huge part of the reason I go silent when life decides to be a bitch. I know it's just as bad feeling that way about comfort characters, if not even worse, when we're supposed to have them to help us get through that kind of bullshit.

So let me provide a little drabble for the one comfort character I’m certain wouldn’t ever allow us to continue being so silly about our worthiness of love and affection, because we’re all worthy of such a basic human need. I may do more later, but one in particular jumped at the opportunity to provide this comfort, and I fear he may counter me with his dreaded puppy-dog-eyes should I even dare attempt to wait.

Good Enough

OPLA!Sanji x AFAB!Reader

Lil drabble thingy

SFW, Hurt/Comfort

Possible TRIGGER WARNINGS for depression, insecurity, self-worth

♫♬ Moonshine ♬♫ — The Fratellis (yes I’m STILL on my Fratellis BS leave me be)

"Never knowing is the most evil feeling, when every answer here is none too appealing"

Sanji had always been a flirt. You knew that from the moment you started working on the wait staff at Baratie. Your trust issues had made it a little difficult for you to open up around the young sous chef (and occasional waiter on the frequent occasion that Zeff kicked him out of the kitchen for insubordination), but it was his outgoing nature and perseverance that had ultimately won you over. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only girl in the world when you were together, doting upon you, all but worshipping the ground you walked on.

But when he was sent out to work the dining area, it always made you nervous. His innate charm, his handsome features—he was nearly always a hit with female customers. No matter how much you told yourself that he was only doing his job, there was always a nagging feeling that maybe there was more to it than that. Watching him interact with a table of pretty young women, who by their clothing and demeanor were obviously far more affluent and sophisticated than you, left you distracted in your own work.

Seeing how they giggled at everything he said, how they fluttered their eyelashes when he brought them their drinks.

How the pretty blonde at the table leaned so close to him while he pointed to something on the menu, close enough to brush her hand across his.

You managed to spill a tray of drinks all over yourself while you were watching, leading to a scolding from the front of house manager. You saw the table of girls from the corner of your eye, giggling at your clumsiness before you were sent off to clean yourself up and change your uniform.

No matter how much you told yourself you were being silly, there was nothing you could do to shake it. The doubts, the thoughts of how easily he could find someone better than you. You had your jaw clenched the entire time you were changing your shirt in the staff restroom, tossing the soiled one aside as you leaned against the sink in front of the mirror and forced yourself to take slow, level breaths.

You were still on the clock. You couldn’t break down. You had to get changed, had to get back to work, had to pretend everything was fine, if he found out you were being so stupid about this then he would definitely drop you like a bad habit, you had to compose yourself or—

Knock knock.

Your eyes darted to the bathroom door, your breath catching in your throat at the sound of the light knock.

“J—just a minute,” you forced out, flinching at the sound of your own voice breaking a little.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, stop it stop it stop it—

A brief silence followed your answer, a silence that seemed to stretch on for miles despite lasting only a few seconds. The familiar, gentle voice that answered after a moment made your hands clench around the porcelain of the sink.

“You alright, love?” You drew in a sharp breath, swallowing, clenching your eyes shut. Of course it was Sanji. You had almost hoped that the manager had come scold you for taking too long. That would have been easier to deal with right now. Your eyes darted to the locked doorknob as it rattled a little. “I heard—”

“I’m fine,” you said immediately, the strained quality of your own words as they met your ears making your hands tighten a little more on the edge of the sink. “I—I just tripped and spilled a few drinks, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You gritted your teeth, laying your head back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course he wouldn’t let it go that easily. The doorknob rattled a little again, and you glanced at it as if it were a viper poised to strike out at you at any second.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, don’t—

“You sound—”

You reached out and turned the lock on the doorknob, and turned away from the door, crossing your arms over your half-buttoned shirt and stared down at your feet. After a long moment, you heard the door open behind you.

Evidently you didn’t look any less distressed than you felt. His quiet sigh met your ear as the door shut lightly and the lock turned. “Oh, love, it’s fine,” he said gently, his footfalls echoing quietly in the small bathroom, closing the short distance across the tile floor between the two of you. Your whole body tensed as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his forehead over the crown of your hair with a quiet chuckle. “It’s only a few drinks, it could happen to anyone.”

You shook your head, your shoulders shaking a little. Stupid, it was so stupid, but the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “Oh, yeah, anyone.” You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t. He had a way of pulling all your insecurities to the surface that no one else did. You pulled your crossed arms tighter, staring down at the white floor tiles for a moment before shutting your eyes tightly, your voice shaking a little. “Especially a dumb screw-up like me—”

“Don’t do that.” His tone came out a little sharper with this, and your breath hitched audibly in your throat this time, your shoulders hunching as you clenched your eyes shut tighter, swallowing back the lump in your throat. As if to counter your stiff posture, he pulled his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb rubbing lightly against your waist in a comforting manner. “Don’t, sweetheart. Please.”

The warmth of his embrace already had you relaxing a little. Your shoulders slumped, your body leaning back against him, but your eyes were still burning when you opened them to stare down at the toes of your shoes.

“Was it the manager?” he asked gently, shifting behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “If he was being an ass I’ll gladly kick his ass off the docks.” Your breath left your lungs in a slow, trembling sigh as you shook your head no, your gaze drifting down to his hand at your hip, still rubbing lightly against you, your lips curling into a fleeting smile at his offer. You knew you were being stupid, but… “Then what’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice a soft, comforting murmur in your ear.

“I…” You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes as he tilted his head so his cheek lay against your shoulder. “Y—you—“

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat, drawing in a deep breath, trying and failing to steady the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind, thoughts of how maybe this was all a lie, of how you weren’t anything more than a silly little fling to him, how you weren’t good enough, how easily you could be replaced.

You bit your lip, glancing down as his hand found yours, watching his fingers lace between your own…and the breath left you in a slow, resigned sigh.

“It’s stupid,” you said quietly.

“If it’s got you this upset, then it’s anything but stupid,” he countered, and you had to purse your lips tightly to keep them from curving into a small smile as you felt his press briefly against your cheek in a soft kiss. “And if it’s something I’ve done—”

“N—no, you haven’t—” But how quickly you shook your head, how your shoulders tensed, betrayed your worries. “I…I just…” You slowly relaxed once more as he squeezed you against him, his cheek nuzzling against your shoulder, his soft blonde hair tickling against your neck. Still unable to turn your head to meet his eyes, you bit the bullet and forced yourself to voice your worries. “You have beautiful women making goo-goo eyes at you all day,” you said, keeping your voice low in an attempt to keep it steady. “I—I don’t—I’m not—” You bit your lip, your heart racing as you clenched your eyes shut, cursing yourself internally as you felt the tickle of a tear leaving your eye to trail down one of your cheeks. “Y-you could have any girl you wanted. L—like that blonde that was hanging all over you while you were showing her the menu, or—or—”

“Oh, sweetheart…” You weren’t quite able to mask the small sob that hitched in your chest as Sanji loosened his embrace—only to gently place a hand on your hip, guiding you to turn around and face him, to pull you against his chest as you tried and failed to fight back tears. He gently shushed your quiet sobs and stammered apologies as he wrapped his arms around you fully, combing his fingers through your hair as he laid his head over yours. Your eyes remained clenched shut as you fought to control your breathing , as he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Sanji lowered his head and nuzzled into your hair, holding you flush against him.

“I already have the girl I want. The perfect girl.” He pressed another tender kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin, “I have her right here in my arms. And I hope,” he said, his tone turning a little playful as he shifted to rest his forehead against yours, “that I’ll still have her tonight after dinner shift is over.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, smiling as he tilted his head to meet your gaze, puling a small smile to your lips as your cheeks grew a little warmer. “So we can cuddle up together on the balcony…watch the stars…laugh at all the drunk idiots stumbling back to their boats…”

You could practically hear him smiling as a few soft giggles escaped you, as you finally leaned fully against him and returned his embrace, your arms wrapping around his torso as you buried your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, relaxing against him. “I…I’m just…”

“I know, love.” The way he called you ‘love’ all but melted your heart now that you were calmed down, pulling a faint smile to your lips. “I know. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And if it’s any consolation, I was in the middle of telling that self-righteous blonde bimbo how my sweet, adorable, beautiful girlfriend would wring her neck if she kept putting her hands on me—“ He chuckled as you whined in protest of his praise, tugging you closer and grinning, meeting your eyes without hesitation.

He lifted his hand to your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek, the warmth of his gaze holding yours.

“I—“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

You both jolted in alarm, your heads turning in unison toward the sound of the pounding on the bathroom door. Before you could so much as glance at each other, a gruff voice spoke up from behind the door.

“We’re in the weeds, Eggplant!” Zeff called . “Get your scrawny ass to the kitchen! And bring your damned girlfriend, we need all the help we can get.”

A long moment of silence stretched between the two of you as you both stared at the closed bathroom door, before your gazes drifted slowly toward each other.

Before you were both giggling under your breath, as you buried your forehead against his chest, a broad smile spreading across your lips as you clung to him.

“I suppose we’ve been summoned,” said Sanji, pulling back from you only enough to gaze down at you, still smiling. “Shall we, then?”

[kingkatsuki]

Watched Wind Breaker finally and (I’m SO sorry if you don’t care for bdsm I couldn’t find anything against it in your rules) I feel like Suo would be such an insane sadistic dom. Like, when the scene is over it just switches off and he’s so nice and charismatic again to the point where you’re wondering???? Is he doing this for me, is the persona an act that he puts on for fights, for this? Is he really letting himself loose in these moments and he’s holding himself back when he isn’t in a fight or we aren’t doing a scene? You just often wonder what this guy’s deal is, he’s so hard to read.

I got nothing against BDSM but I don’t think I’m good at writing it, but your girl tried her best gold star pls xxx

Suo always thought you looked prettiest in red. The rope weaved around your body meticulously, dipping into the plush of your skin as he weaved every knot around you. Almost too pretty in fact, as his fingers hesitated against the screen of his cellphone, debating whether to share the pictures with his friends this time. But ultimately Suo decides something as pretty as you deserves to be shown to the world, like the finest jade or porcelain. Sending the photograph without checking for a response, that could wait—

The sheets are soaked beneath you, drenched with your slick as the fabric tacks against your skin uncomfortably each time to try to writhe away from the wand that’s firm against your clit. Wet tears stream down your temples and soak the pillow Suo was kind enough to leave beneath your head before he started this, and yet he just watches.

His gaze smoulders like the sun. Bright and all-encompassing as it blazes through you, forced to look away from its brightness before it blinds you as you screw your eyes shut. It’s all entirely too much—

“I can’t Hayato,” You choke back a gargled sob as you feel him trying to force another orgasm from your tired body. Your poor clit throbs with abuse beneath the harsh vibrations of the wand as it practically begs for mercy, “It hurts.”

“You know what to say if you don’t want it anymore,” His voice oozes faux sincerity, “Are you done?”

You know the moment you utter your safe word he’ll end the scene, and yet the word isn’t even on the tip of your tongue. It’s nestled at the back of your mind as your pelvis tremors and you find yourself leaning into this depravity, chasing the warped pleasure that surges through your veins.

“That’s what I thought,” He tuts, reaching out to pinch one of your taut nipples roughly as you gasp out in pleasure, “And to think I was going to be nice and allow you to cum—”

The loud whirr of the wand stops and your cunt pulses with neglect as he pulls it away, eyes intent on the mess between your legs and just how puffy your cunt has become from his ministrations. His lips curl into a smirk when he watches you writhe against nothing beneath your binds, as though trying to give yourself some stimulation.

“No, please— I need to cum.” You whine.

You thought you wanted it to stop, but now your body covets the sensation. As though you’ve been conditioned to seek out pleasure and pleasure alone.

“I was giving you everything you needed,” He replies softly, far too soft for a man who had you tied up at his mercy, “And you still wanted to complain.”

He’s almost a different person entirely when he’s like this. Like something deep-rooted switches in his very being as he hovers over you with purpose. Every touch, every stroke meticulous and deliberate as he seeks to watch you crumble by his hands.

“You say it’s too much, but I don’t think it’s nearly enough is it, pretty girl?”

“You should really apologise for making me feel bad,” He coos, reaching out to clasp your jaw between rough fingers as your lips are forced into a pout. His cock throbs beneath his pants at the desperate whimper that slips from your throat at his actions.

“I’m sorry, Hayato—“ You choke out, blinking back tears as you meet his intense stare, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re lucky I’m so suggestible when it comes to you, my love,” He murmurs sweetly, leaning down to graze his lips against yours. Smiling at the way you try to strain against your binds to meet him halfway, finding it quite adorable until—

Suo leans out to land a harsh smack against your sopping cunt, the wetness sounds on impact as he grazes your throbbing clit. Enough to have you thrashing against your restraints as you cry out in the euphoric mix of pain and pleasure as your body craves the same high again—

“I wonder if you can cum from this— your pussy seems to like it,” He muses, spreading your folds apart between his thumb and forefinger as he watches webs of your slick thread between you, “Let’s see how many it takes, shall we?”

[capriciouscapsss]

How Will You and Your F/S Spend Your 1st Valentines Together ✧

BOOK A READING WITH ME 💞

Hi guys I’m back! Life’s been...catastrophic BUT that’s for another day so enough on that and lets quickly redirect and focus on the fact that reading requests are open again!! Alsooo open requests means PACS full of love being written 🙏🙏   soo yeahh… today’s pac will be made in honor of Valentines day just sailing by, a PAC dedicated to how your Valentines will be spent at the side of your F/S. Now this will focus more on your first Valentines together so keep that in mind when choosing....so with that being said LETS GET STARTED 💞

todays's muse of love is my idol elizabeth taylor in Cleopatra, a true icon and master of romance, who else to tell you how to spend the day of love with the one we love than the queen herself. we have four piles; intuitively choose the one you're most drawn to. 

Pile I. A Wink Worth Billions

[2oS, 4oW, 7oC, 2oC, 10oP, KnoC]

Stop being so cheeky pile 1. We get it you’re god’s favorite damn. Literally what other cards could have been more perfect?? Pile 1 get ready for the prettiest Valentine’s Day ever. Most of you haven’t had a Valentine’s Day where things went right, and this person wants to make sure that it goes perfect. Honestly your first Valentines will probably be spent in the early stages of your relationship. Like I’m not getting that you guys will be together for a long time before Valentine’s comes. So you both are in the state of mind of wondering if you both should play it cool and go casual your first year or if you guys should actually go all out and throw caution to the wind. And you know the thing about you both being together is that you both immediately feel the love with one another.

You both don’t fall in love gradually, it’s more like it comes hard and strong and one minute you both are meeting and the next you both are scrolling for hours on your phones trying to come up with the perfect gift. As I was writing this I got the vision of one of you going back on text convo’s to see if the other person has mentioned something they’d want or liked. Like that’s how much one of you is stressing. Although I don’t think it’s in a bad way, more like in a “the possibilities on what we can do are endless” kind of way. For the people that are barely getting to know your person, because I do feel like there’s that select few who won’t be serious with their F/S on Valentines, will be asked to bring things to a next level that day. Say we have a couple who’s barely getting to know each other and want to take it to the next level, the more masculine energy of the two will be more proactive and plan to make the connection more serious. For the people that are already in a relationship with their F/S the day off, I’m getting that they might pop a big question the day off. I’m not getting marriage lmao don’t worry, more like talk on the future like moving on or meeting each other’s parents. Or even planning a trip. Something that signifies making things more serious.

Also, I think that the masculine energy in this connection could be feeling real nervous about planning this as well lmao. Like there’s an element of “things are going so well, I don’t want to mess it up” combined with “but things would be even better if they said yes.” Ultimately I think your first valentines will make you both stronger at each other’s side. The bond will be strengthened and new steps will be taken moving forward. So to recap, with the masculine energy it’s going to be all about planning an event around making your relationship more serious. Something pretty that strengthens your unions. And for the other in this connection, it will be more focused on finding the perfect gift. Finding a gift that’s perfect for them but also doesn’t look like they’re coming on too strong. Lmao the energy the other person is exuding is equally as nervous, they’re going to want to take it further as well but will at the same time be nervous about initiating the conversation. Instant red flushes and heart palpitations when their partner initiates though, they’ll feel breathless. + Little tidbits I see include you saving them from doing something emberassing. Say they’re talking and walking but almost slip, you’ll help them last second. Or it could even be something like, if they’re the masculine energy and you the feminine, they could be talking to try and approach the elephant in the room but start trailing off nervously as they get closer leading you to prompt them enough to broach the topic. I also think that attire will look darker Valentine’s Day.

You both will be wearing darker clothing and if makeup is involved it’s more on the lighter side. Kind of elegant chic. NOW for a special select bunch of you I do see a proposal. I know, I’m sorry!! This is just for a select few of you I promise, and it’ll have to do more with you both being friends before the connection even started. Cause again, the love is still new, but sometimes when you have a long story with someone you just want to marry them as soon as you finally have them in your arms. So nothing out of the blue, don’t worry, more so this is for those going from friends to lovers. Also there will definitely be s8x okay that’s it bye. 

A little visual of the energy I'm getting

Pile II. The Royal Treatment

[KnoP, 5oW, 7oP, The Justice, 3oP, 10oW, QoP, the chariot]

baby pile two’s you are all so stubborn. And your future spouse is too. You guys probably have known each other a long time before you guys actually spend a Valentine’s day together. I’m getting almost like a sad vibe here? Like one of you has physically watched the other go on dates and so on in Valentines day. It could be that you both were friends before you were lovers and going out together is something new but also bittersweet? One of you keeps thinking what it would be like if you both just realized sooner and got together earlier. You guys both want this to be beautiful and right and amazing but you two don’t want to communicate when trying to talk about it. You both are acting like you guys are on the same page when I’m not even sure you guys are reading the same book

. You both are acting like this is no big deal because the other person is doing so as well. But in reality it’s a very big deal and you guys want to rejoice that finally!! you guys are together. You both might be talking to your friends and family members like “I just want this to be special”, and the whole time the other person assumes that you guys aren’t excited. Like I mean this probably happens and goes on until either a day before or the very day of the event. I even think you both argue when the truth comes out. The feminine energy in this connection will not lash out but rather retreat inward and stop talking? Almost like they want to complain but they’re going to feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing and will retreat forward. Now I think the masculine energy in this connection is more new to this whole dating and emotions thing, and even though they don’t really understand how to fix this (that’s also been bugging them) they don’t want to be shut out on a day where things are supposed to be happy and okay. So I think they approach but it just spirals into a fight. Again you both are soo stubborn so you both will probably be just afraid to admit that you want this day to be celebrated more.

I can see you both arguing. Until one of you just snaps and admits that it’s not fair. As I wrote this I started to hear what it would sound like and it not only sounds, but it feels very in the heat of the moment. “I wanted this to be special and you don’t even care.” is what I heard. The other’s very confused, not even sure about what they’re talking about until they start piecing it together. I imagine it going from something very tense and angry to still and warm. A trickle of realization and hope. The masculine energy was the one doing the prodding I think, asking a bunch of questions in alarms and defensiveness. Asking what they did and why are they being ignored. The other then suddenly getting fed up and blowing up. Telling them the truth just to shut them up. I think that you guys are then going to be silent for some time before eventually talking and apologizing. It sounds almost like you both are then taking the time to finally talk about your feelings and leave it all out in the open. After time, we have the chariot card describing the last of it so I can see you both deciding to do something. A quick plan where you both have a destination in mind. One of you is smiling softly while the other’s making quick jokes as they drive over there. Hands are being held and smiles are being shared. Lots of eye contact once you both arrive to wherever it is you went.

No letting go. + Little additional tidbits I can see is the plans being made after the argument being very adventurous. Maybe it’s a long drive to where you both are going but it’s a celebration to the realization of feelings. A celebration that should’ve been planned a long time ago. I can see you both touching each other a lot as well. Hands around the waist of the others, neck kisses, kisses on the top of the head, etc. I think people didn’t really expect you guys to last long either or even have much in common which is why it was even more important that you guys celebrated the day of love together, and when you weren’t doing it like it deserved you both felt bummed. We have the masculine being more of a social butterfly in this case so yeah they’re definitely going to be the one that is badgering and demanding to fix the problem. In this case I could see the feminine being more of an introvert and instead choosing to keep it all in. Yeah, to end this off, I do see a long drive ahead of you both when you choose where to go. 

A little visual of the energy I'm getting

Pile III. Entrancing and Falling

[4oW, 3oP, 7oP, PoP, The Hermit, The lovers] 

Pile three you guys are the ultimate couple. Now let me start by saying this, MONEY IS BEING SPENT here. Like loads of money. I don’t know if you guys know about the couples that spend close to thousands of dollars for Valentine’s day and treat if like it’s nothing big? Yeah that’s you both. There are some cultures where it’s like that, where Valentines day is meant to be celebrated in big and meant to go crazy with the theatrics and you both do not disappoint. To be completely honest with you, I keep trying to summon the energy of you guys individually but it doesn’t really come out leading me to believe that you both are locked in and really solid when the days rolls by. Are you guys the type of people that lose their identity when they fall in love? No. That being said, are you guys so enamored that you both think of each other as their world? Yes. So do you both not want to talk to anyone but your own partner the day of Valentines? Again yes lmao.

This is kind of giving me Scorpio Venus energy. Like “I share you every day please just be mine for today.” Or days. Like mentioned before your partner wants to go big. And its liely that each year aftet that they’ll go bigger until they run out of ideas and even then they’ll ask around if that’s’ their last option. Why last option? Your person likes thinking of their plans for you. They pride themselves in being the one that knows you the most. They pride themselves in having you see how much effort they put into their gift since to them, their act of service, means more than just picking something out. I could see you both going out to little Valentines day parties before the actual day and people asking you and your FS what you’ll be doing and your FS just grabbing onto you and shaking their head. They’ll be telling no one about their plans by the way, they don’t care for others telling them if it’s a good idea or not like this person is so confident in their abilities of knowing you lmao. I can see them planning a trip for you both. Almost like a surprise getaway. It could be to an actual spot outside the country or to something as simple as a weekend spa. Whatever it is it will only involve you both. It’s going to be their version of a relax spot away from the world. Away from problems and into a world shared only by you two.

Like I said this is so Scorpio Venus, because even though it looks very flashy and big, all you both really crave are closeness and intimacy. There’s layers to this. Sweet words are exchanged. Thousands of I love you’s. I think you guys might even be told by other people that see you what a wonderful couple you two make. You both are also very patient with one another in the days you disappear. No rushing, just relaxation and love. Walking to a restaurant holding hands and buying flowers from someone nearby. Feeling the night warm up and being able to wear a more revealing outfit. This is another reason as to why I think you both are going to go on vacation, when trying to intuitively channel I get hot and humid weather. The kind that makes hair curl. Wearing more summer based outfits.

So to recap it would be something beautiful because of the attention to detail. Everything done bigger than need be. But at the same time it’s special because of the intimacy that you both share. It’s quiet in the way that there’s peace but electric because of the sensation you keep on sharing that “hey! I think they might be the one.” + additional tidbits I’d like to add would be that the feminine energy in this connection is holding on more. Kissing, hugging, they’re the one initiating the contact. Your FS could be a fire sign, particularly Aries or Leo. You both are already very comfortable with each other by the time you go out. One of you could be a serious workaholic that yes gains great money but also doesn’t have much time off so this could again be something that you both are particularly excited about since it means more time together. 

A little visual of the energy I'm getting

Pile IV. Seductive Woman

[QoW, 5oP, KoW, 7oC, AoC, 4oW, AoS] 

Pile 4, my previously heartbroken pile. Honestly you don’t know what to expect the day of Valentines. You’ve just decided to go on a new date not long ago prior and you’re not sure where it’s headed. The date you go to before this happens ends up being your future spouse. It’s exciting and fresh and new and honestly no one can blame you from being excited. They’re intelligent, well-spoken and charming. I mean they seem like the complete package. Like I mentioned before you probably haven’t had the best of luck with love when you’re close to meeting them. It’s possible that you could’ve just gone through a break up that left you feeling emotionally battered. You’re not wanting to do the whole love thing anymore. Ever dated someone that made you lose your spark? Your previous relationship will have you feeling like this. You’ve gone from being someone full of life, vivacious and bold to maybe someone more insecure and guarded. Protected. So going on a date was something really big for you.

And then going on a date on Valentines day? Something even bigger. But I don’t think you’re getting your hopes up. Almost like you’re excited because speaking with this person was fun. But at the same time, you’re just going with the flow. Letting things fall where they may. They on the other hand, are coming ready. Like they have thought and thought of about a million things they could possibly do at your side that wouldn’t be too much or too boring. You know it’s funny how most of the piles have been trying to keep between that imaginary line of it being just perfect and not too this and not too that. Like Goldilocks, it must be just right. I can see them checking the reviews for places on Yelp or just talking to people around them on what places would be good to dine in or what places they’ve gone to that a person like you would like. I got the funny image of them describing you to the person they talk to like “they’re like this and they do this and etc.” and honestly, they might just nail it. This is a more lighthearted version of Valentines.

There’s shy looks and glances but also hand holding and the occasional kiss. There’s so much banter and dry wit passed around too. I get the image of you both talking with big smiles on your faces as you eat dinner. It’s not like your trying to keep the smile up, it’s more like it won’t like your face. You both are just so amused with each other, like you’ve met your perfect match. You share the same humor and you see of yourself in each other. What they are is what you are as well. I think you both start acting much more romantic as the night is ending. Like you guys start seeing at each other’s lips, or casually touching at each other more. The attraction is real, but so it the chemistry between you as people. So to recap, we have you and this person being together after a tough period in your life. Nothing serious but leading up to it as the night goes on. + Additional tidbits I get from this pile is the Aries like behavior that you both have when together. Being brave and bold with one another, laughing and teasing the other person. They will be more well off than you are so be prepared to have them pay for everything. This is the type of person that even because it’s your first dates out with each other, they will not allow you to contribute a single penny. They’re definitely more affectionate as well, you being more awkward and not knowing how to respond to the flirtatious remarks but being a pro at handling the teasing. They’re very well spoken like I mentioned earlier so be careful cause they are great at flirting and making someone blush. You both talk about interests a lot the day of Valentines, and you guys could focus a lot on doing little things for each other. For example, say you go out to dinner; one person will put their hand on the small of the back of the other, push out their chair, etc. You both will be very attentive to the needs of the other person. I could see them also being in a field having to do with Law, that message came to me very randomly but take that as you may. 

A little visual of the energy I'm getting

Okay that's all! That was a long reading and it definitely has so many mistakes but I hope you enjoy reading! Have a great day/night and take care xx 💕💕💕💕💕

[thepersonperson]

Ngl your post summarises so well why i love sukugo and why im so insane about them

Like of fucking course those two would work together when Sukuna deeply does not care about any social rules to ever exist. Of course they do when Gojo is confronted with someone gay for him and not hiding behind anything. This is not survivable and i love them and care them. I even had written in the notes for my fic about Gojo being the person who generally prefers to keep things as they are but i couldnt actually formulate why i think that. You are so smart your analysis is so wonderful

This is also why I like Sukugo a lot. It's not just that Sukuna matches Gojo's freak, he enables it. Encourages it even. Makes it worse. Sukuna's existence is a twisted opposition to Jujutsu Society. It's very hedonistic, sadistic, and selfish but by golly it is rebellion.

The flattery is also appreciated, but please understand that I am very stupid and am capable of making mistakes. Alternate perspectives like yours are just as valuable. Which is why I'm shoehorning your tags on this post into this ask. (They are great tags and everyone should see them. Also I don't know how to respond to them otherwise.)

#yeah youre right # sorry i got time to think about it #and im kind of writing gojo rhe same but a vit more influenced by sukuna lmao #tbh as the person coming from a post soviet country #i honestly cant like #fully agree with everything due to just #like i understand that what people want from socialism isnt what was in soviet union #but its still very much hard to accept that anyone could want what we went through lol #when i tell you that socialism actually pitted everyone against each other isnt not a joke #but i understand what you lead into and yeah yeah true

#tbf to gojo he really tried even if his method ultimately failed #like he had genuinely tried to do better for the kids that came after him despite the desperate lack of empathy of understanding of others #and himself #like i can appreciate the desperate desire to make change for the better

#and yeah geto was so horribly jealous its insane #of anything really #i also kinda really think geto has the mentality that after toji gojo is different? #that the boy he knew died and this is someone else #and what he does it ultimately for the boy he loved and for the boy who survived through changing #it also may be a bit of a fucked up coping mechanism how to deal with it all and differentiate what gojo was to him and is

#but yeah i was thinkinf about it and talking a lot #they were so badly exploited as children #we know its better with gojo than it was before #but then also if gojo takes on the hardest missions for the students that means he’s not present to teach its a fucked up circle #he doesnt understand enough to be a full leader to make a rebellion but he is trying god damn #but yeah the only way he could articulate what he’s actually feeling is through battle which is sad

#i take the way he stopped looking for exciting battles growing up is him growing up #like sending yuuta for cursed tools. he made his peace that he cant just chase men while he needs to take care of the kids #idk its all deeplt fucked up and im very sad for them

That's a fair criticism and even better commentary. I understand the aversion to some of the words I'm using to describe this. It's just that I don't know how else to effectively communicate what I think is the main issue. I do appreciate you're willing to hear me out on this though! (You're applying Umineko's "Without love, it cannot be seen." which makes me very happy.)

I'm US based which is a hypercapitalist hellscape, so when I talk about socialism it doesn't mean "do exactly what the Soviet Union did" (that would be very bad) but instead some of the ideas behind workers rights are good and desperately needed to curb stomp the type of labor exploitation they're experiencing. (Like unions for better pay, hours, and working conditions.)

Theory is useful because it give you the words to describe exactly what's wrong and the ideas that can guide you towards productive solutions. I can say Jujutsu Society is bad because of labor exploitation from the higher ups and therefore unions would help mitigate their power because I learned about those things.

Gojo and Geto don't have those words or background so they see part of the problem but have no name for it. And because they don't understand why it's happening, their solutions are surface-level treatments that don't address the real source of their suffering.

Toji was a symptom of the problem. Geto saw Toji as the entire problem so he thinks eradicating anything like Toji is the solution. Gojo saw Toji as a symptom and a potential solution to the real problem—Jujutsu Society. He recognized that Toji being strong is what helped him escape this problem so he laser focused on it. If he and his students are strong, they can change things. What things exactly? Gojo doesn't have the knowledge or time to dwell deeper on it. To him strength=revolution. He neglects the need for mutual aid, addressing overwork, and limiting child labor because the words and framework to deal with that are missing.

Gojo can't really do anything other than keep things the sameish because he doesn't know how the better world he's seeking works. (Similar to how you recognized this flaw of his, but couldn't put it into words since you didn't have them.) He both does things better for his students and screws them up in whole new different ways as a result of this. It's very tragic.

And everything wrong with Jujutsu Society is still just a microcosm of Japanese work culture that leads to this exploitation in the first place. Nanami is the only character that makes this connection and he has no idea what to do about it other than work where he feels less bad about it.

It's kind of like knowing a grease fire is dangerous but not knowing how to put it out.

>Gojo throws water on the grease fire trying to put it out and makes it worse before he starts suffocating it with his body instead of a blanket.

>Geto tries to eradicate grease from existence not knowing that other types of fire exist.

>Nanami realizes oxygen and fuel are the source of fires but he has none of the tools to put them out or prevent them.

>Sukuna understands that letting the fire burn everything to ash means there will never be fire again. ...While ignoring this also means there will be nothing left in the aftermath.

If any of these people were taught fire safety (labor theory), their methods of dealing with the fire (labor exploitation) and preventing it in the future would be so much better.

Japan has some of the lowest union memberships and the worst working conditions amongst rich countries. JJK has a lot to say on the topic so I'm being very annoying about it because I don't see others talking about it this way.

[mykneeshurt]

Date Night

Soap x AFAB!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, f oral receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of self-harm

A/N - this happened to me 🙃 my ex did this lmfao stupid prick, curb stomping him wouldn’t be enough. I can’t afford therapy right now so here we are. This ain’t my best work but I’m trying to get back into writing to battle this haze I’m in

———-

The sound of keys clanging in the door snapped you out of daydream. Blinking away the tears that had gathered you slipped the mask back on. The mask that protected your true self, vulnerable and hurt. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, your house mate was finally home from deployment.

‘Hi Johnny!’ You called out from the kitchen. He let out a sigh as he dropped his bags, the wooden floor creaked and strained beneath the weight. ‘God, good to be home’ he called out, the smile evident in his voice. He finally made his way into the living room, it was open planed, he saw your figure at the cooker. Stirring something that smelt good and had your undivided attention. ‘What is that divine smell?’ He asked as he took off his boots.

Taking a deep breath you made sure the mask was secure, ‘lasagne, I know it’s your favourite annnnd there’s a crate of irn bru in the fridge for you. Though I may have stolen some’ you laughed. Coming over to the cooker he dipped a spoon in and slurped up the beefy sauce. ‘You’re a fuckin angel. But I have a date tonight, so no lasagne for me’ he wiggled his eyebrows cheekily. A flash of disappointment flew through you, but instead you plastered on your fakest smile and hugged him instead. ‘Check you out lover boy, I’m still gonna have some, I’ll put yours in the fridge.’

He thanked you again before making his way to the bathroom to shower. You carried on making the food, your mind mulling over the conversation with your ex, if you could call it that. Pottering about in the kitchen you waited for the food to cook, the sound of Johnnys music filled the silence. Some EDM track that was clearly hyping him up for his date. You were happy for him, his last girlfriend was a bit of a bitch in all honesty. It was nice to see him excited for once.

You poked and prodded at your food in-front of you, your appetite suddenly disappearing. Your mind ruminating, spiralling further and further into an abyss of darkness. Tears began to well again, this time you were unable to contain them, they fell and ran down your cheeks. You sobbed quietly into your jumper, hoping the sleeves would muffle the tears. Your chest ached, as a prang of anguish stabbed at your heart. You weren’t even sure why you were sad, you should have been angry. But ultimately you were hurt.

You were so caught up in your mind you hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you hunched over the kitchen table. Seeing the movement out of the corner of your eye you quickly wiped away your tears. Forcing a smile you wiped your hair out of your face. ‘Johnny! You look so handsome, have a wonderful time’ you sniffed. Walking over to the table he sat next to you, ‘what’s wrong?’ Concern plastered over his face.

‘Nothing’ you shrugged, dropping your gaze away from his. ‘This don’t look like nothing. I’m not going till you tell me.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re clearly not. Tell me.’ You rolled your eyes pushing him slightly ‘I’m fine, you’re gonna be late.’ He sighed as he pulled out his phone. ‘What’re you doing?’ You asked craning your neck to see. ‘Rearranging.’ Eyes widening you begged him to go, ‘please go, I’ll feel so bad if you don’t. You don’t need to worry about me.’

‘Well I do and I’m not going.’ The sound of the text being sent filled the silence as he turned his full attention to you once more. He placed a hand on your back as you fell into his chest, he held you tight as he cradled the back of your head. Playing with the fabric of his shirt you took in a deep breath. ‘My ex text me..’ you began.

‘Get tae fuck? That piece of shit?! Fuck he want now?’ You groaned into his chest, knowing he was going to lose his shit. ‘He sent me a picture of a cut on his leg, with a knife next to him. Told me I made him do it.’

You felt him tense beneath you, ‘fuckin excuse me?! What the fuck?! What’s his number, no way am I standing for that.’ You gripped his wrist, ‘Johnny no. He ain’t worth it, it just caught me off guard which is why I’m upset.’ You could see his chest puff out slightly as the artery in his neck pulsated with fury. ‘I’ll kill him. Swear t’god.’ You chucked at his protectiveness ‘no you won’t, cause he ain’t worth it. You and the boys could always rough him up though.’

‘Don’t know whether we’d know when to stop’ he smirked.

You sat up from his chest and offered a pathetic smile. ‘There she is’ he smiled back his hand still cradling the back of your neck. Your hand rested on his thigh, it was firm and warm to the touch. Your eyes met as you felt your breath get caught in your throat, something shifted in that moment. ‘You can still make the date’ you whispered. His grasp became tighter on your neck as he dropped his gaze to your lips. ‘I don’t think I want to.’

Slowly your faces edged closer together until your noses touched slightly, ‘Johnny, please go on your date.’ It was a pathetic attempt to stop whatever was happening. ‘Do you really want me to?’ His voice was a breathless whisper. Your lips hovered just above his, his breath danced along your own. Sliding your hand further up his thigh you finally said the word you secretly both wanted to hear. ‘No.’

Giving in your lips met, it was slow, tender, gentle. A low groan rippled from his chest as his tongue swept at your bottom lip, as you granted him entry he slid his free hand around your waist. You cupped his face pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Shifting from your chair you climbed onto his lap. He smiled into the kiss, you could taste it on your lips.

Pulling back you bit your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. Averting your gaze you felt the sting of embarrassment tease at your chest. You rested your hands on his broad chest turning your head. Heart thumping, mind racing, the surge of adrenaline coursed through you as he cupped your cheek pulling your gaze back to him. ‘You want this?’

You stomach churned with nerves, once this bridge was crossed there was no going back. Burnt forever.

But you wanted it.

Badly.

You always had.

‘Yes.’ It was barely above a whisper, but you meant it.

He gripped your thighs and lifted you with ease, squeaking into his neck as he hoisted you onto his hips. Walking over to the sofa he sat down with you still in his lap. A giggle fell from your mouth as you repositioned yourself. Splaying his hands over your hips he pressed you down into his crotch. ‘Always loved the sound of your laugh.’ Throwing your head back you exposed your neck to him, long and elegant. ‘Really?’

He pulled you back into him as he whispered against your neck, ‘really.’ Peppering kisses along your skin he nipped at your earlobe ‘wanted y’since I first led eyes on you.’ You moaned as you clawed at the back of his head, raking your nails along his Mohawk. ‘Yeah?’ You asked as you rolled your hips, gripping his hair in between your fingers. He hissed as he licked his bottom lip ‘fuck, yeah. Bad. Fucked my fist thinking of this for so long.’

Feeling your panties become wet you slammed your lips back onto his, this time the kiss was faster, sloppier. You rolled your hips again causing him to nip your bottom lip. He tugged at your jumper, pulling it off in a swift motion revealing your plump breasts. You worked his button until his shirt fell open, revealing his toned chest with a dusting of hair. Scrambling with it you finally managed to pull it off as he undid your bra. Placing kisses along your collar bone he squeezed a nipple in between his fingers eliciting a whimper from you.

Your nimble fingers undid his belt in record time, slapping your ass he moved you off him so you were now laying down on the sofa. You looked beautiful to him, hair tussled, face flushed and glowing as you panted. He pulled off your leggings and discarded them somewhere behind him. He knelt in front of you, lifting your leg over his shoulder he placed kisses along your thigh as he looked up at you. His piercing blue eyes full of desire and lust, pupils blown wide. He teased his tongue along your clothed cunt, already tasting how sweet you were.

Moving your panties to the side he groaned at how wet you were. He swiped his tongue along your slit gathering your arousal on the tip. Hissing through your teeth at the contact you bucked your hips, begging for more. Wrapping his arms around your hips he secured you onto his face as he methodically and lazily licked your clit. Burying your head in the sofa pillows you let your body float away into a cloud of pleasure. He ate your pussy like a man starved, savouring every morsel of your juices.

‘Fuck Johnny’ you panted twisting your fingers in his hair. When he finally removed himself from your dripping cunt he kissed his way back to your mouth. You tasted yourself in the kiss as you ground your hips into his. Pulling away he searched your eyes for any objection, for any doubt but all he saw was want. ‘Say yes’ he whispered ‘please.’ Cupping his face you placed a form kiss on his lips ‘yes, fuck, yes.’

A wide grin spread across his lips as he lined himself up at your entrance. Pushing himself in a shudder ran down his spine, you felt heavenly against him. Your mouth fell open as you adjusted to his stretch, he began to move his hips gently. He watched as your eyes fluttered and your features twisted from the new feeling. Leaning down to your ear he planted in your ear, ‘wanted this for so long, y’feel so good.’ Pulling closer into you, you rested your cheek against his as sounds of ecstasy filled the room.

‘Harder, please, shit’ you mewled. He picked up his pace slamming his hips further into you, his hard cock filled you perfectly. ‘Don’t stop Johnny.’ He stifled a laugh as he tried to regain some composure ‘keep talkin like that I won’t last much longer love.’

‘Fuck, I don’t care, I want you to cum for me. Want you to fill me.’ A shaky whimper fell from his lips at your statement as his eyes rolled. ‘Dirty fuckin mouth you got, doin so well love.’

The unexpected praise coughed you to clench around him, ‘wanna go on top’ you demanded. Pulling out he positioned you on top as you sank down on his hard cock once more. Rolling your hips back and forth have your clit the missing pressure it craved. He gripped your hips as you rode him, skin glistening in the dull light of the living room. Unable to pull his eyes from your face his mouth dropped open as guttural moans built up within his chest. He was close. So were you.

The pressure on your clit proved too much, your orgasm crashing around you out of nowhere. You placed your forehead on his as you inhaled each others moans, digging your nails into his neck as you rode out your climax. He threw his head back as he came, a tease of your name on his lips. You felt his cock pulsate inside you as he drenched your walls with his cum.

Collapsing onto his shoulder he rubbed your back, tracing small circles on your sensitive skin. He cupped your jaw again and pulled you into a passionate embrace. Breaking the kiss you offered him a warm smile, one that could melt even the coldest of hearts. ‘I’m not reducing your rent mind’ you teased, a wicked glint in your eye. ‘Wouldn’t dream of askin hen.’

Tracing your nails over his neck you suddenly looked embarrassed, Johnny worried he’d done something wrong furrows his brows. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Anything’ he replied a little confused. Pursing your lips you built up the courage to ask. ‘You wanna stay in my room tonight?’ His eyes lit up, full of mischievous sparkle.

‘Yeah, I’d like that.’

[ganondoodle]

so its part of a way longer post i made some days ago but i want to highlight this part of it:

"i cant stop thinking about the devs saying sth like "after botw zelda wondered if the kingdom of hyrule needed to keep existing the way it had been before the calamity, but then totk happens" bc it just feels like they realized too late that botw naturally led into questioning the status quo and they scrambled to fit it back into a flat and boring road we have seen so many times before (or even worse really) with totk zeldas character naturally leads into her questioning and reexamine their history and set of rules? we gotta teach her a lesson of why she is importante god given monarchy girl that has to keep it bc what if evil brown man shows up again for no reason maybe im grasping at straws here but looking at it this way the sonau .. make more "sense"; the shiekah were a group that was under the rule of the royal family, and misstreated before (oh no look soemthing interesting) so they dont lend themselves well to be used for teaching zelda that lesson- the sonau however are tailored really to be just that; they are a supposedly godly race from the literal sky that founded this version of hyrule, that had tech even more advanced and better than the shiekah, she gets put in the past to meet the perfect god king of goodness personally, also his very fridgy wifey that zelda later replaces in a way, shes put there and treated like family and then gets to see just how evil that evil big man from the desert is, sonia is falcon-punched to death solely so zelda can feel obligated to take over her role, have her new, better 'family' hurt by gan; similarly so raurus sacrifice, look what a noble and good king he is, he payed the ultimate price to lock that evil man away, now zelda you cannot let their sacrifice go to waste, rebuild that divinely good kingdom like it was!!"

bc it feels like i finally "cracked the code" of why the sonau feel both like a reskinned version of the shikeah .. while also not at all to me, so shoved into every single corner of the game and its history (not even the forgotten temple being safe from them sure is .... also something, like them being spread all over hyrule, not just the undergound, but the surface AND sky as well isnt weird enough, the shiekah at least were integrated into the world and by far not as idolized as the sonau)

seeing the sonau like this ""better"" and more """perfect"" version of the shiekah bc they are untainted by any possible complicated relationships with especially the royal family (the sonau ARE the prefect, idyllic royal family of the past after all) makes them make so much more "sense" to me, they are a bad mix of OOTs and botws structure, sure, but the way they were done in the game i cannot for the life of me see it as that being their sole problem

(also looking at how shiekah tech was downgraded to some side gimick of purah ... idk if they ever even call it shiekah at all anymore, and if "all sheikah tech just vanished" like the devs said then ... how does any of that still exist huh? it doesnt add up at all except if you see it as the sonau being the ""better"" version of the shiekah with none of the "problematic" parts or history or conenctions (which would be .. interesting) bc they are supposed to represent that idyllic past zelda should feel obligated to recreate now, to uphold that sweet status quo ..

sidenote: someone on the post i talked about his before said its also dumbo that there is supposedly no connection at all between the shiekah and sonau, and yes! that was something i ranted about while i was still playing the game back in may even (most of my later gameplay at some point devolves into a rant about how stupid it is that there is no connection and instead its all just ... gone) bc its just ... so dumb

its also how i chose to integrate the sonau better into the world in my totk rewrite stuff, that they were once there aand had high tech but its by now only crumbs left with nothing funtcioning anymore but you discover that at the time of the ancient shiekah finding it it was still researchable and they build their tech based on the sonau ruins even if the sonau stuff is nothing but dust anymore- which i find a super ... obvious way to give the sonau a better connection to the existing world, keep the shiekah, expand upon their mystery while also still keepign them as such-

.... anyway, there beign no connection at all somehow also fits even more into my theory of the sonau, again, being there solely to represent the idyllic, perfect past zelda needs to feel obligated to rebuild while the shiekah are nothign but a funney gimick of purah now while everything else "just vanished" somehow bc we dont wanna deal with the shiekahs imperfect past so they really should be just a a helpful helper of the rocals (and the yiga a side note as a little threat to be different from the usual monsters but thats all that there is :)))) -

this is getting too long again .. feel free to add your two cents on it and if seeign the sonau like this makes them make more 'sense' to you too

[theamityelf]

Oh God, I need more zombie au interactions. The whole thing is just too morbidly precious. Like...Nagito coming back from a scavenging hunt to surprise Chiaki with a new game cartridge. Or Gundham trying to recall magical seals to protect their luckster. Or Mahiru implying through facial expressions and grunts that she'd like him to open up about his life before Hope's Peak. Meanwhile Makoto is like Class 78's teddy, and they take turns nuzzling up to him each night.

You're so valid for that, and thank you! (Okay, I'm going to try to do a series of little snippets/vignettes here, but I've failed at this in the past by getting too into a particular scene, so wish me luck)

...

It was really cozy at first, but now Makoto kind of needs to get up, and the arms around him are more stubborn than usual.

"Come on, guys," he tries to insist. "If I don't get up now, I won't have time to catch enough food for all of you."

A head pointedly nuzzles the injury that Mukuro had to wrap for him yesterday. It wasn't that bad; they're just overprotective.

"I know," he soothes. "But it's not going to happen again. I was just clumsy. I'll be fine."

He notices that Sakura is standing at the door, making sure no one takes his state of incapacitation as an opportunity to sneak out. But when the door opens behind her, she moves aside to let Taka back in. He's followed closely by...

Oh. This is a little embarrassing.

"Hi," Makoto says to the upperclassman.

Nagito looks slightly rattled when he first walks in, but he relaxes considerably at the sight of Makoto's...encumbered state. "Oh, good. I was a little worried when Ishimaru knocked on my door alone."

"I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be making a food run soon, but these guys are still upset that I, uh...tripped, yesterday." He does a bad job covering it, but he's actually not entirely sure what happened. He was just walking through the grounds when suddenly some kind of rope trap activated and might well have held him fast, if he hadn't managed to trip at exactly the right time and land on some key mechanism with his arm. As it stands, his bleeding arm and a small amount of rope burn around his ankles is all he has to show for it.

Nagito laughs lightly. "They're worried about you. You should take it as a compliment."

"I know. I do. It's just...well, they still need to eat, and they won't let me get up."

"I can bring them something. Unfortunately, it might be human; Akane broke out again recently."

Makoto's brow furrows in sympathy, both for the poor reserve course student and for Nagito. "You're having a hard time with Akane."

"She's an Ultimate-level athlete," he says, with perhaps too casual a shrug. "There's not much I can do to stop her. Do you need anything?" He walks closer to Makoto– on the Mondo side rather than the Byakuya side, which is a wise call. Chihiro, spread over-top of Makoto like a blanket, is watching him but doesn't look apprehensive.

"Water, maybe?"

He smiles. "Coming right up."

...

Most of the 77th class descended right away on the new catch that Nagito dragged in (even the Imposter leaving his fort to join them), but Chiaki and Kazuichi were more interested in the bag Nagito was carrying. The three of them went to sit in their usual spot on the floor, and Nagito went through the bag's contents one by one.

"Let's see...He had his wallet on him; Akane will like that. He had his phone-"

Chiaki perked up at once, enticed by the prospect of new mobile games.

Nagito laughed fondly. "It's yours, of course, Chiaki, but we'll have to take it to Fujisaki first to get past the passcode. And while it seems to be fully charged, he didn't have a charger on him, so we're out of luck in that regard."

Kazuichi made a small grunting sound.

"Yes, you can have it when it dies, if we haven't found a charging cord for it by then."

A happy sigh.

Nagito turned back to the bag. "He had...Huh. He had raw onions. The last one had some, too. I wonder if they think these repel the undead. Ah well. Maybe Teruteru will want to do something with them. Some school supplies...Oh! A pen with Hope's Peak's crest on it. Makoto will like this." He smiled at the thought. "And Ishimaru or Togami might enjoy the books. I shouldn't bring it all by at once, though; that might make him suspicious. Just the pen and the phone, today."

Kazuichi nudged the bag impatiently.

"Right. What else...A flashlight. Yes, you can have that. A pack of trading cards? Oh, Pokémon! I wonder...Ah, yes, he has the games, too." Nagito freed a GameBoy Advanced and a zipper pouch of four Pokémon games, which Chiaki eagerly took and held like they were treasures.

Kazuichi tugged insistently on Nagito's pant leg.

"Huh? That's everything in the bag."

Kazuichi made an agitated noise.

"Oh, you want the GameBoy. Well, the cartridges are compatible with Chiaki's DS. What do you think, Chiaki? Will you let him have the GameBoy?"

She let the GameBoy fall onto Kazuichi's lap, gently bit Nagito's hand in thanks, and crawled off to Sonia's fort with her treasures.

...

"You're getting good at that," Nagito observed.

He could have been speaking to Makoto or Hiyoko. Makoto, who was getting noticeably better at cutting Taka's hair, or Hiyoko, who was close to mastering the small-scale dexterity required to finger-flick Nagito in the temple over and over. (The undead weren't good at precise hand movements, relative to their former selves.)

Makoto, of course, was the one to say "Thank you." Holding down Taka's ear to better trim at the hairs nearest it, he added, "I know the faculty is keeping a tight lid on who can see any of this, but I still feel like I should try to make him look the way he'd want to be seen. The first few times he asked me to do this, I felt guilty for how it ended up."

"You gave it your best. And I suspect he's more preoccupied by the feeling of his hair being too long than the prospect of it being cut unevenly."

Mahiru clicked her tongue and grunted mildly.

"Sorry. I'll keep still, now." Nagito was seated in a chair next to Taka. When Taka had shambled up to Makoto with a pair of scissors in hand, Mahiru had taken it as an opportunity to sit Nagito down, as well, to have a go at his tangles.

Most of the rest of their classmates were watching a movie; Makoto had found a DVD in one of the teachers' desks. It wasn't everyone's genre, but being mesmerized by bright colors on a screen was enough to draw most of them. Chiaki and Akane had fallen asleep already. Sayaka was humming along to the background music, and Hifumi was drawing on the walls.

"Done," Makoto sighed, blowing away the excess hair. "Do you like it?"

Taka patted his head and made a grateful sound.

"That's great! Now you can go watch the movie with the others, right?"

Of course, he couldn't get out of it that easy. Taka got out of the chair and was soon ushering him into it, taking the scissors from his hand.

"Good luck," Nagito whispered, and Makoto sat very still.

Taka was careful. As careful as he could be. He only nicked Makoto's ears and forehead a little– which was, in his defense, the worst he'd ever done. It wasn't his fault that it was inherently terrifying to have him wielding scissors around someone's head, and it wasn't his fault that he felt a need to return the favor every time Makoto gave him a haircut.

Taka patted Makoto's head when he was done, and the tension in Makoto's shoulders finally relaxed.

"Thanks, Taka."

Taka made a noise which was loud and the right amount of syllables to be "You're welcome," and then he went to responsibly put away the scissors and then sat with Mondo to watch the movie. Mondo handed Taka an arm that he had already eaten half of the meat from, and Taka ate gladly.

A human arm.

Makoto didn't know what to do with his unease over how often the 77th class seemed to be eating human. How casually Nagito brought it to share with them. Of course, if it would otherwise just be going to waste, then there was no point refusing, but it just...He just didn't like it. His heart beat uneasily whenever he thought about it.

When Hope's Peak finally found a cure, how was everybody going to feel about having eaten raw human? Poor Akane...

"Makoto?" Nagito said.

Makoto smiled a little, despite himself. Nagito had been calling him "Makoto" lately, instead of "Naegi". They'd been spending a lot of time together. Combining their classes more and more often. He loved his classmates, but...it was just nice not to be alone in this.

"When Mahiru is done with my hair, do you want to watch the movie, too?"

Why did that question make him blush?

A drop of blood rolled down the middle of his face.

"Oh. Maybe after we've done something about those cuts," Nagito said lightly.

Mikan, who had started crawling over at the smell of blood, sprang suddenly to her feet. "H-Hurt!" she accused, with a big smile on her face. "Hurt!"

"Uh-oh," Nagito sighed. "Do you mind letting her...?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Makoto said.

"Go ahead, Mikan."

In a startling demonstration of the inhuman speeds the undead occasionally exhibited, suddenly Mikan was behind Makoto's chair and winding a bandage around his head, tightly enough to hurt more than the injuries themselves.

"O-Ow," Makoto said thoughtlessly, and then regretted it when Sakura looked over with immediate concern. "Don't worry; enjoy the movie," he quelled.

"You can tell her to stop whenever you want," Nagito added, with a rueful smile in Mikan's direction. "She has plenty of people to play with."

For some reason, the statement gave Makoto an intense sinking feeling. "What does that mean?"

"Hm? Oh, when the others get hurt, she likes to bandage them up, too. They don't really bleed the same way humans do, though, so I'm sure she prefers it when one of us gets hurt."

Oh. Of course. Of course that was what he meant.

Mahiru pulled the comb from Nagito's hair and handed it to him. With a heavy sigh, she went to watch the movie with the others, and Hiyoko likewise stopped finger-flicking Nagito's temple to follow her.

"I have some snacks in my backpack," Makoto said, managing to turn toward Nagito while Mikan tied off the (patently excessive) bandage. "Do you want to sit in the back, or in that free spot next to Gundham, or...it looks like we could sit up there with Hiro, if...?"

"Let's sit in the back."

...

"I could've sworn we sat in the back," Nagito teased.

They had, but gradually the group had concaved around them, and now Chiaki was asleep in Nagito's lap, Sayaka was cuddled against Makoto's other side, Byakuya was holding Makoto from behind, Hiyoko was hiding paperclips in Nagito's hair, and so on.

"Yeah." Makoto laughed mildly. "This...isn't bad though."

Nagito slid his hand subtly closer to Makoto's, interlocking their fingers without Byakuya noticing. "This isn't bad."

[mettywiththenotes]

Talking about an au

This is one that has been on my mind since 419 and tbh I thought for sure it could happen

Remember when Tomura shed his skin during the Floating UA battle? Well I wondered if a similar thing would happen again in Mount Fuji

Picture it. In the void, AFO eats Tomura. He's dying as he's told everything about AFO's involvement in his life. AFO takes over his body, hand formed over mouth and all. It looks pretty bad. All the stuff happens with Izuku getting his arms back, the heroes coming to his aid etc. Izuku punches AFO (end of 422, beginning of 423). Here's where it diverges from canon:

Izuku punches AFO and he starts crumbling slowly, from his gut (where the impact was) to the rest of him. Except before it even reaches his chest, his face starts to crack open. Visually we can see this crack isn't the same as the crumbling of his body. It's one we've seen before, across his face in the middle of a battle. A parallel back to this

Except within the crack is Tomura's face. Tomura inside Tomura's body. Tomuraception

What happened? Well, the power of Izuku's will to stop AFO (the punch) allowed the vestiges that got thrown into the body to reawaken and bring Tomura's soul back. At the same time, minutes before, Tomura, slowly dying in the void, began to think. About everything AFO told him, how he was doomed before he was even born. How much that angered him, the rage coursing through his soul. He already had a strong will before, but now he really can't accept what has happened and he can't accept AFO getting away with it. Even if AFO's fate is to die, he'd rather be the one on the other end of it, alive and watching him. Better yet, being the hand that ultimately brings about his end

As a visual representation, it's like Tomura reaches out, desperate to climb out of the abyss he is slowly dying in, and he is met with several hands reaching back, taking his hand and pulling him out and back to the world. The vestiges, who have been reawakened by Izuku

Before, Tomura has not been able to die or stay dead. So why should this not be the same? With the power of rage, spite, his hero and some ghostly relatives, he lives on. He twists his own fate by accepting the hands that reach out and climbing out of the hole AFO threw him in

AFO's Tomura face cracks open. Tomura forces AFO's vessel apart from the head, almost like a butterfly climbing out of its cocoon, almost like he is actively prying his own cage open and escaping for good

AFO had been crumbling and was ripped open, but in a desperate attempt to stay together and stay alive (also fueled by anger at being pushed to the edge like this + Tomura somehow coming back from the dead), he uses his quirks (mostly drills) to keep his body intact for now (this is already shown in 423)

Also, I guess it depends on what you would like to believe, but the way I see it, Tomura could come back either with just his decay OR with the vestiges choosing another vessel for what little power they can give left and so backing Tomura up with the last of OFA. Aka 10th user Tomura. It's not as powerful as it was with Izuku but it still adds a lot, just enough to pack a real punch. Personally I think if we're already throwing away "what is realistic" then I might as well go big or go home and go with 10th user Tomura my beloved

It's from this point that he and Izuku begin to work together to kill the old body. As you can imagine, it's probably not an immediate bonding of friendship or whatever, but it's more or less teamwork formed with the general statement of "we still have things to work out, hero, but I don't care about that right now. I hate him more than anyone else on this damn mountain and I can't stand the thought of letting anyone else kill him but me" etc but then progresses as they fight

[moonmaidensblessing]

I love Mystra as a character 100% she is an interesting character and I adore a morally questionable woman with my whole heart in fiction but I’m trying to get why ppl get so up in arms about her. The concept of a god having a relationship with a mortal is nothing new; I wrote a paper last semester comparing Gale to Odysseus from the Odyssey for the very reason they both had relationships with goddesses. It’s an age old situation in storytelling and it’s not going anywhere.

I want to posit the idea that Gale’s specific dynamic with Mystra is meant to say more about his character than her, though, since he’s a major character. His relationship with her is meant to tell us how powerful he is as a magic-wielder and his connection with it is beyond what the average magic user could ever dream of (looking at you, Rolan). He is written in a way where his hubris could easily lead him down a bad path as it had done several times for him already. He is messing with things beyond his scope, though, as he learns more and gains more power. A line I always feel people ignore is the one where he admits Mystra gave him a boundary, appropriately seeing what it was (Netherese magic that had almost killed her before), and tend to majorly focus on the fact that she asks him to sacrifice himself with that same dangerous magic. I mean, i can see a perspective that she sees Gale as potentially dangerous since he disregards her request ultimately for his own purposes. Keep in mind that he not only has the parasite, but the orb would not be kept docile forever. He became dangerous not only to himself but to anyone unfortunate enough to be too close should something happen. He poses an immense threat after crossing Mystra’s boundary (his exact words in the game) to Faerûn, the Weave itself, etc.

Does this make Gale evil? No. He had the potential to be misguided, though, in the story, and I think that’s the writers’ point was how easy it can be to fall from might and grace with a few bad choices.

To be frank, the dynamic between Gale and Mystra is already at a power imbalance. It isn’t like the other characters’ relationships with their respective gods because they do not have a romantic/sexual relationship with them. That is a curious distinction, which would lend to it being an unusual practice in the pantheon of the gods. However, not in the world of literature, I reiterate. Odysseus has intimate encounters with several goddesses in his journey, but the power dynamic is written a lot differently than how Mystra and Gale are written.

If it is not common practice for the gods to have intimate interactions with mortals, then it stands to reason that it is a discouraged practice among them. We hear a line in the game where Gale says Ao would not permit Mystra to interfere with their quest directly, and it makes me believe there are rules for the gods when it comes to behavior and actions. For some reason, Mystra is permitted to have romantic relationships with her worshippers, and I have to wonder why that is. Apparently it isn’t common for her to pick someone, either, as she only chooses the most powerful magic users, her chosen ones. And that’s where we start to run into the power imbalances.

In a way, Gale seeks the missing magic for Mystra to feel equal to her, a dynamic that would never change no matter what he did. Who is really to blame? The one who wasn’t content in his role, or the god who appointed him to that role in the first place? Was Mystra trying to influence Gale to stop him reaching beyond mortal limitations, fearing (for him or perhaps herself even) that he would go too far one day just like Karsus before him? Did she have valid reasons to fear for herself and the world of magic, or was it a selfish act borne out of fear of losing control of her realm and devotees? I don’t think people are thinking this deeply about it.

I think why it bugs me in a way that kids keep giving her the “bitchy mean girl” treatment is because it sort of cheapens the intent of the characters and what its supposed to mean to the story. I mean It’s funny but I cannot look at a single piece of fan art online that features her without 15 ppl all unironically claiming acts of violence against a video game character. I guess its ultimately harmless, and it’s good they are able to recognize the harm that is present there, but it feels like a simple, immature take just all on its own.

Oh and I definitely hate the take that Mystra groomed him. That makes me pretty sick, and it isn’t a one to one comparison at all. I sincerely doubt that was the writers intention at all, and as someone who was it makes me pretty mad to see. But I understand since most of those saying it are most likely children who don’t have a full grasp of it. Grooming is intentionally selecting a person with little to no agency, usually a child, and trying to influence them into inappropriate situations. I feel like comparing that dynamic to grooming demeans and lessens the importance of it in real life. Gale was not a child, he has agency in his life, and it’s cheapening even to the character to imply he had no control over what was happening to him. Unless I’m missing some crucial piece of lore here, I don’t think Mystra picked Gale as her chosen and romantic partner to make him find Karsus’ tome and unleash the magic that nearly killed her and destroyed all magic.

I get it, though, why young people jump to that conclusion. Again, I’m glad that they see the surface level issue. I’m glad they can recognize danger and harm. That’s good. I’d never discourage someone, especially children, in being vigilant with those sorts of things.

And of course all this said not so much in defense of Mystra (though I love her as a character) but more in defense of the people who wrote it. This game is so well written and it’s one of the reasons why I love it so much. The fact that I CAN write an essay for class about it makes me over the moon and goes to show just how much depth and meaning is present.

[stereax]

I seek your wisdom, o wise one.

Exactly how screwed are the sharks, the flames, and the oilers?

You can't see me but I am RUBBING MY HANDS IN DELIGHT at this ask. Nothing I love more than talking about why teams suck. As always, meet you under the cut! 💜

(Also, sorry this took so long! Had to make a presentation on the Chinese Super League for sports diplomacy and it siphoned my will to live.)

Do I have you? Great! Okay. Let's go one by one.

CALGARY FLAMES: CANDLE IN THE WIND

I, for one, never got the hype behind the Flames. Every pundit in the entire NHL was saying "Oh, the Flames are going to have a massive bounceback year, last year was a down year for everyone!" And now look at them. 3-7-1 to start the season with a mere 7 points in 11 games.

Spoiler alert: Trading your best forward in points production to literal Satan for a single corn chip is not going to help you be competitive. Who'd'a thunk it?

In addition, there seems to be a major coaching problem. On theory, this team should be solid. Maybe not top of the league good, but solid enough to make a wildcard spot at least. But you watch the systems at play and they just don't work with the players. For instance, Huberdeau is an east-west player being forced to play a north-south system. He can't do what he does best, make plays, because the current north-south system simply won't allow it. Firing Sutter was supposed to fix this locker room. It only seems to have made the problems worse. Christ, Zadorov is apologizing to the fans because they're playing that shittily.

How screwed are they? Probably a solid 8/10. Markstrom seems to have bounced back, but the team in front of him has not, tanking his save percentage because the defense simply cannot defend. We're being treated to a classic Huberdeau and Kadri Disappearing Act (2-4-6 and -12; 1-4-5 and -12). Mangiapane and Andersson have both gotten suspensions already for no god damn reason. All extension talks (Lindholm and Hanifin chief among them) have been suspended. It's chillingly possible this team will have to sell big at the deadline to get any value out of their expiring UFAs - and then what? You've got a few good pieces (Cary, Sharangovich, Wolf) that can lead your retool, but you've also got anchor weights in massively underperforming contracts, like the aforementioned Huberdeau's, that come with no-move clauses and are just such bad deals that even if those clauses were waived, who'd take them?

EDMONTON OILERS: BULLS ON PARADE

I think if you told anyone in July that the Edmonton Oilers were going to start their season 2-7-1 in 10 games, you would be laughed out the door. And yet.

I do have to preface this by saying yes, McDavid was out for several games, and when you're without the best player in the NHL, it gets tougher to win games. But fuck, man. The Devils are now down BOTH their top six centers for the foreseeable future and yet they're still managing to win games. You know why? DEPTH SCORING. Something that the Oilers have not had since seemingly the 80s. If your game plan revolves so strongly around one guy, chances are you'll be fucked anyway if that guy goes down.

Also, Campbell cannot stop a beach ball in net. Skinner isn't much better. How much of this is the defense and how much is just the goalies sucking? Unclear, but it is NOT a good sign. Although the Oilers mostly work under "outscore your opponent before they outscore you", you want to be able to make SOME timely saves. Neither tendy is giving any hope recently.

And all this can ultimately be traced back to Ken Holland fucking this team over with contracts. Nurse did not deserve that much. Kane is questionable at best. Campbell? Christ. And then you have no cap room to sign actually decent bottom sixers and then wonder why they're getting shelled. Why is Sam Gagner, a random legacy Oiler on a league minimum contract, on your second line? Make it make sense!

The thing is - you CAN win if you have a few guys getting paid the big bucks. Just look at Vegas for an example of that. You CAN'T win if you have a few guys getting paid the big bucks and almost no depth beyond your top line where you stack McDavid and Draisaitl to try to get SOMETHING going. You can't doubleshift those two across the entire lineup. I know, it sucks.

SAN JOSE SHARKS: COLD WATER

How screwed are they? I'll give them a 6/10. We're seeing the "or bust" part of "cup or bust". Can they turn it around? They have McJesus. Anything is POSSIBLE when you have McJesus. But it's not looking pretty, at all. I bet they end up in the wildcard hunt, or close to it. Just enough to maybe make the playoffs but too exhausted to do anything else.

Remember, Draisaitl's contract is up after 24-25. McDavid, 25-26. Will they want to stay in this garbage fire? If one, or God forbid both, ask to be traded, this team better channel the early 2010s and tank hard.

And now we reach the ultimate lolcow. These guys STINK. 0-10-1 in 11 games. .045 points percentage. The only point they managed to get was because Blackwood stood on his motherfucking HEAD in game 2.

But then you have contracts like Hertl, Vlasic, and Couture, which you can't move and which will weigh down the franchise for years while it tries to rebuild. What are you going to do with them? How will you get rid of them?

What's the problem? More to the point: What isn't??? There's zero star power on the entire roster. The defense doesn't know how to defend and the offense can't score against a Shooter Tutor, much less an actual NHL goalie. The goalies... they're trying! I think! Give them credit. And Quinn's trying, maybe, to coach? But when do you kick his ass to the curb too, just to try to put some life back into that lineup? That is the world's deadliest team. It's like hockey is a punishment to them!

FanDuel is running bets on when they will finally win their first regular season game. That's how ass they are. I wish I were kidding.

On top of all this, the locker room seems like it's going up in flames. Remember the Nucks' 10-1 beating of the Sharks? Kahkonen, the Sharks' tendy, got injured after the sixth goal, when Kuzmenko ran into him. Kuzmenko and the Canucks made sure Kahkonen was alright and that it wasn't a major injury. The Sharks? They just went back to the bench!

This unironically is probably the worst team in my lifetime, and maybe for decades before I was born too. They're just so BAD. There's no redeeming reason to watch Sharks games at all except to laugh at the Sharks as they get 10 goals dumped on them.

How screwed are they? 10/10*. I'm sorry, but fucking Zetterlund is leading your team in goals. ZETTERLUND. I cannot name ONE player on that roster who I would send to an All-Star Game. Maybe Blackwood, if he doesn't crumble into fucking dust first. And knowing how injury prone he is, he just might.

But this is a 10/10 with an asterisk. And here's why: * They WANT to be bad. The worse they do this year, the better their chances for Celebrini or whoever is the first overall. That's the idea of the Shark Tank. And if that's the goal, it's being executed perfectly.

There you go, anon! Hope this helps! If you have any more questions, feel free to drop into my inbox! 💜

[thelampisaflashlight]

I quit drinking almost a year ago now, so let's talk about it.

I'll start off by saying that my relationship with alcohol has always been a rocky one; It was first offered to me as a teenager by a relative of mine, and although I refused it on multiple occasions, I was always bullied into taking a sip or called names for not doing so.

I never wanted to drink, coming from a family with a history of addiction and growing up with an alcoholic parent, it wasn't something I ever wanted to do, and I was well aware of the risks involved with starting.

Drinking always lead to me feeling guilty or ashamed, but for a while, during the beginning of the pandemic, it was a way of coping, one I fully acknowledged as such, but never enough to make me completely stop.

In the weeks leading up to my decision to quit, a family member of mine was falling harder into their addiction to alcohol, and was making me drink more by proxy in order to justify the amount of it they were buying.

Unbeknownst to me, they were also hiding things like beer and cider in their room and their bathroom closet, because myself and another family member had begun counting the alcohol left on the porch when they continually appeared intoxicated despite only one or two drinks being missing from a case.

They would boldly lie to our faces and claim they hadn't been drinking or that they'd only had one or two drinks, but would be stumbling drunk...

The final straw for me, was coming home from work to a puddle of blood on the floor of my living room after they'd fallen down the stairs and decided to return to their bedroom on the second floor, where I found them with a head wound, bleeding into their pillow.

I can remember standing with them as they told the paramedics that they only had four drinks and thinking, "That's got to be fucking bullshit."

And it was.

Their blood alcohol was sky high and I have the paperwork to prove it.

After they were taken away by the ambulance, and I was left rinsing their blood off of my hands, the first thing I did was search.

When I tell you, in that moment, I hated their guts for what they'd done, for what they'd put me through, for arguing with me when I was trying to save their fucking life...

To this day, I am still angry about it, and why wouldn't I be?

It's only been about a year, but in the grand scheme of things?

I had to endure their addiction and the way they brought about my own for years.

I never bought alcohol for myself.

Despite being old enough and able to.

They always bought it for me, and growing up they always made it seem like it wasn't a big deal that they drank as much as they did, or that they turned another family member into their drinking buddy when they were only fourteen...

But I digress.

In the long run, alcohol has been a problem for me since even before I personally started drinking, and I'll admit that I, as someone who has dealt with a lot of loss and utter bullshit in my life, used it to self medicate on more than one occasion, because it made me feel less in touch with everything.

But it did not make me happier.

It didn't fix my trauma or give me less anxiety.

And it made me feel ashamed.

So what can I tell you, about how it feels to be almost a year sober?

It's honestly hard to say.

Because while I'd like to come here and say that I've felt amazing or that the experience has been freeing, truth is life has continued to be hard, and new challenges come and go, and, well, I've kept going.

There's that.

A year ago, if I had a bad day at work, I'd have a drink about it.

Now?

I talk to people.

I'm more open about how I'm feeling, physically and emotionally, and in that sense I have felt freer.

But I'm also seeing what addiction -not my own, but another loved one's- has done to my family, and I find myself wondering if I should separate myself from them again.

To burn the bridge I was determined to rebuild.

It's lead to a lot of complex emotions as you can imagine.

Ultimately, I think quitting was the right choice for me, and even if life is tough right now, I'm able to look at it objectively.

[potatocitytechnology]

Trick or Treat? - L.TN

Kinktober Day 14

Crossdressing: Wearing clothing typical of the opposite sex.

INTRO: Halloween is your boyfriend, Ten's, favourite holiday of the year and everyone knows it. Yet, you somehow manage to convince him to let you both stay home this time. Maybe you'll give him a new reason to enjoy it so much...

GENRES: Smut

WARNINGS: Profanity/swearing, oral (F receiving), chocking/breath play, nipple play (receiving), cross dressing, ten has a slight mommy!kink, switch!femreader, switch!ten, overall explicit content - DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THIS POST IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE, PLEASE!

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

AUTHORS NOTE: this is a reuse of the only kinktober writing i did last year but i think it's really cool and gives me a day off (=_="). anyways underneath i've also linked to yesterday's post (day 13) because the tags are playing up (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ). tumblr has been a bit bad like that for me at the moment, so if you really want to see my writing you can follow me or go to my account (or kinktober m.list) to see writing that you've missed! Anyways, enjoy xox

Harvest in the Air - K.DY & L.TY (day 13)

It’s that time of year. The time where everyone (mostly children) dresses up in cute, sometimes scary outfits and come knocking door to door in hopes of acquiring enough candy to keep them satisfied until next October. 

You and Ten made it a tradition to go trick or treating ever since your first holiday that you spent together and years later, although still a young couple, you’re starting to wonder whether the parents in your area are becoming concerned with your habit. You’ve been telling Ten for the last two years that maybe you should stop and just start staying in and watching a couple of horror movies, eating sweets that you actually bought instead of continuing to steal other adults’. But he was always so against it, complaining it was the only way he could stay young.

However, this year you had managed to convince him that you two could do exactly that. Stay in and enjoy each other's company. He was reluctant and grovelled for weeks before the date, but here you stand in your bedroom placing a small parcel with a bright orange bow, neatly on the bed. You thought it might be a nice idea to give him a gift as he had given up the holiday he so much loved. 

When Ten gets home you’re sitting in the living room watching one of the mild children’s horror movies that are usually on until about 9pm, before the real ones are rolled out. He looks deflated and you immediately feel guilty as he shoots you a smile before walking into your shared bedroom, probably readying for a shower. 

As he leaves your sight you wait one, two, maybe 30 seconds before you hear an excited sound and Ten comes rushing out to you with the parcel in his hands. A large grin replaces the small smile on his face only there a minute prior and your lips turn up as a result. 

“Is this what I think it is?” He asks lightly skipping from one foot to the other. You only shrug your shoulders with a look of faint innocence on your face. “It depends what you think it is.” 

Your vague statement does nothing to deter him before he eagerly asks, “Is it a costume?” You laugh at his hopeful expression and nod your head. “So we’re going trick or treating!” He exclaims in happiness and you internally coo at your boyfriend and his cute antics. 

You once again let a sort of laugh escape from between your lips and shake your head, no. “You might not want to go out in public in that costume, baby.” His expression falls and he looks down at the object in his hands in confusion before looking up at you with eyes narrowed and a smirk on his face. 

“Is this a sexy costume?” He asks with a knowing tint in his voice as he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. You can’t help the snort you let out at his antics before nodding your head. “Open it.” You say quietly, ultimately hoping he would end up liking it. Ten was a very adventurous lover, always down to try new things as long as you both had a good time. And this was very new for you both. 

He sits down beside you and nudges you playfully with his shoulder before pulling the ribbon of the bow. When it falls he is left to unwrap the parcel and he does so quite carefully, making sure to not damage anything inside of it. 

His expression is immediately one of confusion again as he pulls out the outfit. A short, skimpy looking dress is the first and largest item that he examines and you see as the gears turn in his head. He looks at you with darker eyes, “Is this a dress?” 

You smile, your pearly teeth a show of your excitement as you nod humming a short ‘yes’. The dress is black and sexy, one you think you’ll very much enjoy peeling off him. It flows out at the hips which you thought would be ideal for easy access and it’s adorned with white and orange details. He nods, a blank expression on his face as he pulls out the next two items. A pair of black pumps and a cute little headband with the words ‘Mommy’s Good Boy’ written across the band. You wait with a nervous feeling skipping through your chest as you try to take in his reaction. You see his throat bobble slightly as he nods again, seemingly in thought. 

The last items he pulls from your little present are the thin, black and white fishnet stockings that you had folded up neatly and placed with care at the bottom, as well as a little black choker with a bell on it. With him still not having said a word you become used to the feeling of rejection jolting through your veins. You would be ok if he said he didn’t want to try them, you wouldn’t care but you desperately wanted him to like what you had picked for him. 

He places the stockings in his lap with the other items before turning towards you. You couldn’t see fully before while he was almost pointed away from you, but you see it now. His expression is low and sultry and his eyes seem to hold a dim lust that attracts you towards him. “Am I dressing up as Mommy’s good boy tonight?” He asks, his voice laced with pure seduction and your mouth parts slightly as you nod. 

He only smiles before leaning forward and pecking you on the lips teasingly as he stands, presumably heading to the bedroom to put on your present. When he leaves you sigh out a breath of relief at the fact he obviously found your idea sexy and wanted to at least give it a go. Over the next fifteen or so minutes, you’re left to simmer in your own pool of lust as you become increasingly agitated and impatient. 

When Ten finally emerges into the living room, he is initially shadowed by the dim light of the hallway before he steps closer and you can see him in all of his beautiful glory. The short, black dress sits exactly where you thought it would, about mid thigh and it makes you almost drool looking at the way it hugs his lean upper body before flowing out at the hips. 

The cute little headband sits amongst his longer dark hair with most of it pushed back under it, save for a few strands that lay delicately over his forehead. The choker catches your eye as it hangs delicately around his neck, the little bell jingling softly everytime he moves. 

He watches with dark eyes as you examine him and when your eyes track lower, he sees the way you visibly suck in a breath. The heels that you bought lift his entire body up an inch or two (meaning he’s now even more taller than you) and accentuate his legs and hips in a way that makes you lick your lips. 

But what catches your attention the most are the way his toned legs look wrapped in the fine material of the stockings. The tiny holes in the fishnets let you slightly see his pale skin through the fabric and the way they tie the whole outfit together makes him look so delicious, you start to feel hungry for him. 

Once he feels he’s been standing there long enough for you to take in his appearance, he moves slowly towards you. The faint clicking of his heels on the hardwood floor has you almost feeling a sense of deja vu, but one where you are in his position. 

He stops only a half metre from you and you watch as he delicately leans over and places his hands either side of your head where it lays against the back of the couch. His breath mingles with your own as he brings his head close to yours. Your chest shows your laboured breathing but you’re sure Ten would be able to tell just from the way you’re parted lips pant, only a mere inch from his. “What would mommy’s good boy like him to do?” He asks, eyes half lidded as he waits for you to give him an instruction. You slowly bring your hand up to his face and gently brush a stray strand from his forehead before lacing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Kiss me.” Is all you manage out before you tug him forward, half his weight landing in your lap as your lips meet. He kisses you with lust, as though he’d been just as frustrated it took him so long to get ready, but you both knew it was worth it. A finger from your other hand loops through the material of his choker, before you pull it slightly back. Effectively cutting off a decent amount of his air supply. He moans into your mouth and you immediately swallow it, the noise sending a flush through your body. 

He pulls back slightly and his eyes meet yours. “And what did mommy want me to do to show he’s a good boy?” Your chest heaves not only from your lack of breath but at his dedication to the role and you sink further back into the couch as you push him back. 

“It depends, do you want to show me how good you can be or do you want mommy to reward you for being an obedient boy so far?” Your question isn’t taken in by your boyfriend as he seems to have already made up his mind on what he wants to do before you can even answer. 

He drops to his knees in front of you, pushing your legs apart and situating himself in that spot. He leans into your core before laying his head on your thigh. “Wanna show you.” He almost purrs and you hum in content at his answer, either way you didn’t mind. He lifts his hands to your waist in an attempt to tug at your jeans, before looking up at you through his lashes with wide eyes. Getting the hint you lift your hips as he continues to pull and is finally able to drag them down your legs, discarding them somewhere behind him. 

He once again leans into you, seemingly inhaling your scent through your already wet panties and a faint blush rises to your cheeks in embarrassment at the obvious patch that leaks through. Ten takes no mind, only managing a soft groan as he tentatively pokes at the material with his tongue. 

A shaky sigh escapes your lips at the action as he continues the motion and you start to become irritated at the delay. “Good boys don’t tease.” You warn with a sharpness in your tone and he immediately nods in agreement, repeating your warning under his breath, “Good boys don’t tease.” 

Following this, he uses a single digit to gently pull them from your form gently moving them down your legs so that they pool at your ankles, not fussed at having to remove them entirely. Straight away he shoots forward, licking a long stripe up the expanse of your pussy until he reaches your clit. 

You suppress a moan but can’t help the gasp that emits you as he begins to toy your clit in his mouth. Your hands fly to his hair where you grasp onto his soft roots as he lifts his eyes to yours. You could take a picture of this moment if it wasn’t so lewd. The way his eyes peer up at you as he’s dressed in the most breathtaking sexy attire you could only hope to pull off. His heels poke out from under him and you catch a glimpse of the stockings adorning his legs and can’t help the way your own eyes half roll back. 

Your fingernails gently graze his scalp as you do so, making him groan into your pussy. He lifts a hand to press gentle circles into your clit as his tongue drops to your hole to lap at the juices that seemingly pour out of you at this point. You can’t help the way you wrap your legs around his head but he doesn’t push you away, apparently liking the fact you’re suffocating him between your thighs. 

When he probes a finger at your entrance your head falls forward to watch as he slowly pushes it into your dripping hole. He then latches his mouth around your clit once again as he starts pumping the finger into you, the wet noises that would normally make you cringe only turn you on more. You try to pull him even closer by his hair as he sucks on your clit like it's the tastiest lollipop he’s ever tried and you almost cry out at the sensitivity it causes. 

A series of curses leave your mouth as you feel the pleasure of the pain tip you into a state of euphoria, your pussy convulsing around his finger as he continues to kitten lick your clit. “Fuck baby, no more.” You manage out between pants, tugging his head back by his hair. He only groans into you making you stutter forward, your hips bucking up in sensitivity. 

His head knocks up at the motion and when he tries to bury himself between your legs again, you pull him up into your lap and press your face into the expanse of his neck. “No means no, Ten.” You mumble against his skin to which only earns you a whine. You leave a trail of marks along his pale throat as your wandering hands make their way down from his shoulders to his hips. 

Within a second you use the grip to flip the both of you over so that you are now straddling him whilst he lies back across the couch, a grunt escaping him while you do. You sit up and pull your shirt over your head, the only clothing left on your body is your bra which you have no intention of removing. However your boyfriend immediately whines when he realises you won’t, reaching up to attempt at removing it himself whilst you tut a sharp ‘no’. 

His face scrunches up at your response, “But I’ve been good!” His proclamation makes you half roll your eyes before you reach behind your back and unclip your bra, tossing it away. “Happy now my whiny baby?” You mock to which he immediately hums, reaching up and tugging you down. 

When you're only slightly hovering over him, he lifts his head up to take a nipple into his mouth, softly pinching the other. You half close your eyes at the pleasant feeling before they shoot open. A not so gentle nip is issued to the nipple in his mouth and you immediately scold him. “No biting, Ten.” He only looks up at you innocently before switching to the other nippile, maintaining eye contact. 

Once again your breath sharpens before you tug yourself from his grip, much to his dismay. You take yourself down his body so that you can run your fingers up his stockings, letting the fabric occasionally catch and pull before snapping back against his skin. The immediate hiss that escapes him turns into a low, drawn out moan as he watches you in wonder. 

You run your hands slowly up his thighs, your fingertips dancing under the hem of his dress. His breath quickens, you can feel it not only in the way he moves, but the way his skin trembles under your touch. When you reach his upper thighs where the stockings end, you realise your boyfriend wears nothing else under the fabric of the dress. 

You internally groan and flip the dress up so that the hem lies on his lower stomach. His cock immediately jumps up to greet you. Your gleeful expression is hard to mask as you realise just how much he’s enjoying this. Almost more than you it seems. Your cold fingertips brush lightly around his most sensitive part and he shifts under you impatiently, a groan emitting from him. 

Your eyes make contact with his, “Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve to be touched, baby?” You question, your almost condescending tone sending a shiver up his spine before he nods. You raise a questioning brow at his wordless answer. “Yes mommy.” 

You nod in approval, moving to lean over his tip before letting a drop of saliva drip from between your lips, landing directly on him. His hands on his stomach clench and when you move your hand to grip him, he sighs in content. His hard cock beneath your hand pulses as you slowly start to pump him, the spit working as a lube to ease to movement. 

You watch as he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and you smirk before moving your hand in fast strokes right under the head of his cock before you bring your other hand up to lightly flick his tip. The slight pain mixed with the pleasure of your movements has his back arching up and his eyes closing fully as he throws his head back against the cushions. Fully showing the expanse of his pale throat contrasted to the black choker sitting prettily against his skin. 

“I’m gonna cum.” He warns in a husky voice and you nod in understanding, a sigh leaving his lips thinking you’re going to let him release like this. You give another couple strokes before pulling your hands from him. His head shoots up in disbelief. “Seriously?” He questions a bratty, ungrateful pitch underlying his tone. “You’ll take what you get baby, cause that’s what good boys do.” You point out to which he shoots you a look. 

“What if I don’t wanna be your good boy anymore?” He smirks, his voice holding a sense of victory. You only shrug trying to seem unfazed by his rebuttal. “Then I'll just go to bed.” You state staley, making his jaw drop slightly and his eyes narrow. His expression tells you that you wouldn’t dare leave him like this. Or so he thought. 

He almost begs you to stay when you lift off of him, giving him a faked sad wave as you make your way to your bedroom. You hear him move before you feel or see him. He quickly clatters to his feet, obvious with the noise he makes in the heels as he stands in a rush and staggers over to you. He grasps your wrist pulling you around and you have to hold back the look of awe you want to show. He’s an extra couple inches taller than you, like you thought he’d be. But your good little boy (when he wants to be) has a primal look shadowing beneath the surface of his iris’. He pulls you close to him, pressing your bodies together so that you can feel the lacy material of the dress tickling at your bare skin. He pulls you forcefully in for a kiss, hot and messy. Your boyfriend is obviously not a fan of being left unattended to. Whilst you're distracted he pushes you backwards, his hands trailing down the expanse of your back. 

When you hit a solid surface you gasp, pulling back from him causing him to press hard kisses into your jaw and down the side of your neck. He’d pushed you back against the kitchen bench, and you nearly squeal in surprise when he lifts you easily onto the counter. Because of his added height you sit hip to hip with him and he runs his hands over your bare thighs before pulling them around his waist. You groan as he flips his skirt up, before reaching between you two and pinching your clit, eliciting a yelp from you. He lowers his mouth to the side of your head and you feel his breath tingle at the shell of your ear. 

“Good mommy’s don’t leave their little boys unsatisfied.” Is the only thing he says before he lines himself up with your entrance. It’s the only preparation you receive before he ruts up into you, slipping in easily. You cry out, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face under his throat. As your mouth parts you feel the fabric of the choker against your lips, so you bite against his throat nibbling the material into your mouth. He groans, his thrusts becoming faster paced and you swore you could feel him throb inside you. You lean back slightly in his grip, your teeth still clenching around his choker tightly. 

You feel his fingers leave prints on your hips as your pull on his neck piece once again has him actually being choked. The noises that escape him make your pussy clench around his cock and you feel another rush of arousal shoot through your body, pulling a deliciously loud moan from between his lips. He starts to shallowly rock against you, the friction on your clit leaving you mewling against him. You feel the moment he cums into you. With the teasing and the way you’re harshly cutting off his breath supply, paired with the way you fit him so well. Always so perfectly accommodating. 

With the feeling of him stuttering up into you, you quickly find yourself following after him, a loud noise similar to a whimper being dragged from your chest. You sit there together and attached to each other. Your head tucked in his neck and his resting gently on the top of yours. You lean up to his ear slowly, trying to not move your hips too much knowing you’re both far too sensitive for that. Your breath gently tickles his ear lobe and another tingle races down his spine at the feeling. 

“Trick or treat?” You hum against his skin, a small smile gracing your lips. 

“Treat. Definitely treat.”