#it’s also important to me that everyone knows

[egophiliac]

So.... what are your thoughts on Ace's UM, if you haven't been asked this already?

sneaky magic for the sneakiest boy

no but really, I think it fits him really well! I had thought his UM would probably involve something kinda sleight-of-handy or pickpockety! and I looooved that it made such a nice loop-around back to episode 1. ❤️ I was. kind of half-expecting him to just run out and punch Riddle in the nose again. but instead this time 'twas he who offed the queen's head! it was great! and he did it while stone-cold terrified out of his mind! because Ace is the only remotely normal or well-adjusted person at NRC and therefore the only one who is like "we're going to literally die, this is super effed up". but he did it anyway!!!! I AM SO PROUD

[haru-kuneko]

While I understand the importance of knowing what's going on around us, please people, don't act like I'm some sociopath all because I am unable to feel the same way as you do about a certain issue and give money to those in need despite myself being broke and struggling as well. Of course, I still care albeit not in a tearful way that you're hoping.

I get that what's happening in your community or country sucks and nobody deserves to go through all that, but don't be mad and call me ignorant because I have no prior knowledge of what's going on.

I would not have known how traumatic 9/11 was in the U.S. if nobody on the Internet explained to me how many innocent people died during that time and it sparked a wave of Islamophobia because it just so happens the perpetrators came from Pakistan, a Muslim country. Yeah, I'm a foreigner who's never set foot in the country therefore I won't be able to feel the pain and grief on the same level as the people who live there.

I would not have understood why others choose to go by unconventional pronouns and that it's not just a phase or because they're being entitled SJWs who make things up until I actually joined Tumblr. Guess what? There are also people from the LGBTQ+ community here who got to hold stable jobs, have families, drive and even get a doctorate.

Because people have different lives and not everyone is gonna be able to access information regarding your experience. You can only educate me on things and give me context about it.

the social norm of “its your ethical responsibility to be constantly aware of, and angry about, every bad thing happening in the world at all times, even if you can’t possibly do anything about it” is possibly the best way I can imagine to create burnout and cynicism and depression in a population, so good job guys

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 11

Ch 12 is done and I'm kinda foaming at the mouth to give it to y'all- but I need to wait to finish ch 13-

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 11 >>next

Finding The Immortal was harder than expected but you weren’t surprised. Cecil worked The Guardians to the bone, you were sure. Nevertheless, you found him in the end, quickly flying next to him to greet him.

Surprised, the man looked at you before giving a small, weary smile while greeting you back. “This may sound crazy and like I’m digging into your life, and I understand if you don’t wish to speak about it, but I really need-“ You stopped as soon as he grabbed your shoulders, making you both stop midair and face each other. “It’s okay, take a breath.”

“See- that’s the thing! I don’t need to breathe, I don’t need to eat, I can’t die because I’m immortal like you due to magic and I need to talk to someone who gets it because this past week I feel everyone’s been acting crazy and it’s making me feel crazy- And- and I’ve lost you.” You looked at the shocked man. “You’re immortal?...”

“Yep.” You nod. “… Long story?” The Immortal asks slowly, getting the same response in return. His beeper goes off and without even looking at it he turns it off. “That may have been important.” You pointed it out, but he just chuckled and smiled. “This is important too. I’m sure the others can do well without me for a bit. Now, how about we talk over some food? I know this little family dinner in Las Vegas.” You relaxed, nodding at his suggestion.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“- and then he just tells me to be careful around certain magical weapons because they might hurt me- Like dude, you told me I’m immortal, taught me a bit of magic, and then dipped telling me to see him in a week at the same spot- he could have at least given me a way to contact him after telling me that something might kill me!” You sigh and take a bite of your burger and fries. “You were right, by the way, this is a great spot.”

Immortal chuckles at your complaint. “At least there is someone who is helping.” He furrowed his brows as he also ate bits of his steak. “Or is trying. I had a mental breakdown the first time I realized that I’m not aging and keep defying death.”

“Two days after I had a panic attack thinking about how everyone I love will eventually die, even Nolan and Mark- sure it’ll take a few centuries but that’s still nothing to immortality! The old bastard has been acting weird since I told them too, and Luthor keeps annoying me about his blasted party- which I’m like 90% sure is a front for my birthday- and today I’m supposed to meet the British bastard, but before I have to visit someone else-”

“Breathe, it’ll be fine, you’ll live.” The ancient man tried to reassure you with a small joke about the situation. “I can’t give much advice about this- your immortality seems very different from mine, and to be honest, I never actively think about it considering how sensible of a subject it is. Especially the ‘how many people will pass right by you’ topic. It’s…”

“Terrifying?” He sighs and nods at the completion. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone anymore, and that you thought I’d be the best person to talk about it with.” He plays with his food. “Therapists say that it’s good to talk about your feelings, right? I think it will be great for us both to talk openly about it- I don’t have a phone, but I do hang by the hero memorial stone every other Sunday- if, you know-“

“I’d love that, thank you Immortal…Abraham? Have you chosen a new name?” As your soft smile turned to a confused look the man only laughed, assuring you to call him whatever. Perhaps after that many years, names do lose their importance, or maybe it was the fact that he never had one when he was born in the Stone Age that could be translated to New World speech. “The honey pancakes are to die for, by the way.” His choice of words makes you snort with amusement.

“…You and Lex Luthor are friends?” He asks, a mix of confusion and surprise filling his tone. You just give a long sigh. “Friends is such a strong word…”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You waited patiently in front of the manor’s front entrance, smiling once the doors opened, immediately being greeted by the butler. “I’ll never hear you call me by my first name, will I Sanford?” You teased the older man as he led you through the halls. “I fear not, ma’am.” He smiled as he bowed, leaving you once you walked by him, getting closer to Samson.

You set the little box of treats on the accent table in between the two armchairs as you took your place across Samson while you both greeted each other. “How have you been? How’s that suit going?” Your soft-spoken questions are met with a defeated sigh and a shrug. “It’ll take two more days.”

“You know… You don’t need the suit or powers to do some good. Let me finish, please-” You quickly interrupted. These men were always so quick to jump the gun. “You’re rotting here. I’m not telling you to drop the suit but in these two days, you could go see the outside. It won’t kill you. There is this kid, Adam. He is staying at the hospital I volunteer at and he’s quite a big fan of Black Samson-“

“He’d be disappointed to see me-“ You swiftly but gently tapped his foot. “He’s one of the kids you saved when you lost your powers, Sam. He saw you lose your powers and still hold up kilograms of ruble just so he could have a chance at escape. That boy admires you now more than ever. You need to face things and it’ll be better for you if you do it before you feel like you’re worthy again just because you’ve got powers again.”

“That’s harsh, kid.” Samson almost pouted. “Learned from the best.” You shrug and he smiles. A moment of silence passes between you two before he finally asks where the hospital is.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

John was on his tenth cigarette, he was showing great restraint, really. He knew he made a mistake in asking Zatanna for help, but he seemed unable to do the opposite lately. They both had been arguing for an hour, Constantine knew that the girl would take to Zee like a cat to catnip, but this was making him regret letting Zatanna know more beyond a magical kid needs help. “I’m just saying- maybe Batman should know, she’s his kid-“

“The numpty has been locking her up in his mansion and ignoring her for years, her daft siblings too. The rogues had to raise and give her the attention Bruce wasn’t willing to.” He scratched at his chin before taking another puff.

“Maybe Bruce-“ John didn’t let her finish. “Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that, Zee. She’s just a kid- a kid who ran away because she thought Batman would kill her. Between the two of us, you should know better. You’re giving him too much grace.”

“Are you two mind reading or just mean mugging each other? Sorry for being late, by the way. Was finishing my project and lost track of time.” Your voice broke the two from their argument.  Zatanna looked at John with a raised eyebrow. “She doesn’t look like the little kid you described.” John clears his throat, brushing off the comment on his manipulation before he introduces the two. “I thought it would be good to expose you to different kinds of magic-“

“You’re ditching me.” John choked on his words as you crossed your arms, quickly denying the accusation. “- It’s just- I- Zatanna is a great Elemental mage, I thought you’d like to learn more about Umbrakinesis-“ Zatanna, at John’s rambling and pleading look, stepped forward. “It’s nice to finally meet you, John spoke highly of you.”

You gave her a gentle smile as you came closer and landed in front of her. “I doubt that, though, it’s nice to meet you too. Love your shows.” Your eyes moved to Constantine. “So, you two are going to teach me how to manipulate shadows? Can I learn the other elements and the mind-reading thingy you both were doing?”

“Telepathy, love.” John sighs as you give him a blank stare and double down. “Mind-reading thingy.” Zatanna chuckles softly at the look of pure defeat on John’s face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Dinner was quiet. For the past week it’s been awkward, especially as Nolan kept missing dinners and breakfasts, and seemingly avoiding you and Mark specifically. “So… how has your day been?” Debbie asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Amber and I got together, like- for real. And I mostly dealt with small stuff today. Robberies, Elephant Man, three times, the sort… Did dad text or- call, at least?” Mark mumbles, tired and slightly sore. Debbie shook her head. “No, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

You shrug once all eyes are on you. “Talked to Immortal about- you know. Also trained my magic some more and found out some elemental magic just hates me. Water tried to drown me…” You glared at the glass as you spoke, getting up with a groan after you finished half of the food. “My everything hurts. I’ll go sleep, thanks for the meal mama.”

“Aren’t you going to wait for dad?” Debbie asks softly, trying to hide her worry. You just shake your head and take your plate to trash the remains and put it in the sink. “Nah. He wants to act like the sperm donor, he’s going to get treated as such. Besides, gotta check up with my friends in Gotham. Good night.” You waved her off, not noticing Mark’s brows furrowing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

While Hal was gaging as he encased the mangled body of The Joker, calling for the Watchtower to notify Batman that Joker had been found, Red Hood and the Sirens were celebrating, well- Jason and Harley were.

“Batman is going to be angry.” Pamela sighs in her wine glass. “Batman? Angry? Why, he’d never.” Selina joked, laughing before sipping on her own wine glass. “He’ll bust a vein when he finds out it was our little hero who did it.” Selina’s eyes catch Jason’s figure as he tries to climb onto her coffee table. “Wait- No! It’s-“ She and Pam cringe as the table wrecks to the side, the man’s body making a loud thud as he kisses the ground.

“Broken.” Catwoman sighs. “You good kid?” Ivy asks, almost being drowned by Harley's hysterical laughing. “I’m amazing! Best day of my life!” He slurs, giving two thumbs up before dropping his hands and groaning. “B-man is going to be so mad.”

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

here’s the OTHER leaker translation I would explode out of existence

listen.

I know, okay?

I know everyone loves this. I know everyone lost their shit for it. But I hate it.

I will admit honestly that it is 70% abject fury over the misuse of one word. Another 20% is frustration over how the fandom reacted to the official translation with such vitriol and how the leaker fueled it with their smug comments. That final 10% amounts to what some might consider pedantic or nitpicky. But I don't care.

This translation sucks. It doesn't sound cool, it doesn't sound threatening, and the leaker's rookie mistakes ruin what makes this moment great for me.

Allow me to elaborate.

The emphasis is on the wrong part

I’ve talked about some of the pronoun differences in this line before, but did you know Katsuki also changes the particles every time?

‘Cause I sure don’t think the leaker noticed. Grammar particles are what determine the relationship between words in a sentence. They pack a lot of punch, denoting subject, object, indirect object, purpose, location, time, origin point, direction of movement, means or method—and a bunch more shit that can be hard to describe.

Word order and particles work together to direct our attention to specific parts of a sentence, emphasizing the importance of what is being said. They are some of the most difficult parts of Japanese for learners to grasp and use with the same ease that native speakers do. I’m acutely aware of this weakness, so I often pay particular attention to them. Let’s break down how each iteration shifts the meaning and emphasis of the base sentence.

First time

Chapter 322 おまえが拭えねぇもんは俺たちが拭う omae ga nuguenee mon wa oretachi ga nuguu

Katsuki uses ga with both the second person pronoun for Izuku and the first person plural pronoun for himself and Class 1-A. Ga emphasizes the word that comes directly before it, so this focuses not on the verb itself, but the persons doing the verb. Katsuki's first person plural pronoun oretachi of course means "we," but if you wanted to highlight his literal meaning, he's saying: "the things you cannot handle, me and the people with me will handle."

Second time

Chapter 323 てめーが拭えねーもんはこっちで拭う temee ga nuguenee mon wa kocchi de nuguu

Here, Katsuki retains ga for Izuku’s second person pronoun, but changes both his first person pronoun and its particle, giving us kocchi de. This shifts the implication of who is doing the act—the first time, Katsuki's "we" pronoun highlighted the classmates who accompanied him and acted with him to help save Izuku. But by the time he says this line again, a number of people outside their class have stepped forward to defend Izuku’s return to UA.

Unlike distinctly singular pronouns like ore, kocchi both refers to oneself and something greater than oneself. By switching to this, Katsuki expands that narrow “me and the people with me” into “our side,” presenting the people who support Izuku as a unified force.

You see, kocchi de subtly shifts the verb to being executed by subject(s) defined by a specific characteristic or condition.

Explanations of particle de from Mainichi Nonbiri. The heading and explanation read, "Subject: 'De' is used to denote the subject who deals with or engages in the action expressed by the predicate."

The first example uses jibun de (by oneself) to describe the conditions under which the listener is asked to execute the verb. The third uses gikai de (in the parliament or by the parliament, as a governing body representing many people) to explain the plurality and nature of the subject executing the verb.

The second example uses socchi de, which is the second person "you" version of kocchi, meaning your side. With this, you can see the purpose is to highlight division: "you did that over there on your side of things without any input from me."

Kocchi de as Katsuki uses it likewise creates "sides" by highlighting connection.

These details emphasize Izuku as the person who cannot handle these things and the relationship he has with the people supporting him, a collective Katsuki aligns himself with.

If we maintain this emphasis and the conditions in a literal way, we have: "The things you cannot handle, our side will handle for you."

Third time

Chapter 405 OFA(あいつ)に拭えねーもんはこっちで拭うってなあぁああ！！！ OFA (aitsu) ni nuguenee mon wa kocchi de nuguutte naaaa!!!

I want you to look really close at the particle ni.

Then look at the way the first word balloon ends with the particle wa.

And hear me when I say that this does not emphasize Izuku.

Ni is not a particle for emphasis. If Izuku's personal inability to handle AFO were being highlighted, Katsuki could have used には, which I talk about briefly in this post:

The combination of the two particles ni and wa are used to emphasize, compare, and contrast. This is extremely telling just on its own. Izuku is emphasizing the fact that, compared to everyone he could possibly tell, he cannot tell Katsuki this. He might be able to tell other people, but when it comes to Katsuki, he cannot. Ienai does not specify where the limitation stems from, but ni wa sure implies it.

If Katsuki wanted to disparage Izuku in comparison to himself, like "that guy obviously can't handle you, so I'll do it," he would have said something like this. He even could have slapped his own singular pronoun and ga in there (俺が拭う) to emphasize himself as an individual actor. But that's not what he did.

The particle wa tells us what the topic is. Neither Katsuki nor Izuku are the topic in any iteration of this line; they are subjects engaging with the verbs. The topic is "the things OFA (that guy) can't handle."

Now, because every other time Katsuki said this line had ga in it too, wa wasn't quite as strong as it is this third time. If ga emphasizes what comes before it, then wa emphasizes what comes after. It tells us, "this is the topic, now hold onto your seats."

Katsuki is emphasizing the predicate and the verb. What's gonna happen and how it's gonna happen.

He's saying, "our side is gonna fucking crush you."

The wa particle and the separate balloons build tension, suspense, and excitement—which the leaker instantly deflates. By front-loading Katsuki as both topic and subject ("I'm the guy"), the emphasis is no longer on the promise of destruction he will deliver on.

The emphasis is indisputably on the part after the balloon break, so the mention of Izuku ("when that nerd can't handle it all on his own") reads weirdly like an insult. Hell, most of the words the leaker uses are about Izuku's inability to handle the situation, which bloat the second half of the line and effectively kill the momentum.

Fumbling the flow of a line is a common mistake for amateur translators. Sometimes, it's hard to avoid because Japanese grammar is often the inverse of English grammar; maintaining the original order may render it awkward or even unintelligible.

But that is not the case here.

pikahlua's literal translation

There's no reason to reorder the clauses. You can spruce up the wording, but the lines are perfectly understandable and effective in this order even at their most literal.

The leaker chose to reorder the lines this way, and their translation is worse for it.

Viz Comparison

Official translation by Viz

After what I've said about particles, pacing, and emphasis, I think you can plainly see that the official translator understood these details and made his own choices to highlight them.

Any time you get text with furigana (explained here), you have to decide how to incorporate those dual pieces of information into the text. He could have translated this as "that guy couldn't keep you in the ground," but instead he prioritized the reference to OFA.

By doing this, Viz's translation avoids the implication of insult towards Izuku that the leaker falls prey to.

He also made the choice to translate kocchi as "we."

First, I’m bringing this post back around to remind people that kocchi is a pronoun of ambiguous plurality. This means that an interpretation of “we” is just as correct as an interpretation of “I.” Readers may interpret it differently, but on simply linguistic grounds, they are of equal validity. You will often see this kind of ambiguous language used in Japanese, even with characters that are forthright. The reason is one part cultural expectation that the listener will read between the lines, and one part a willingness to accept two things as simultaneously true. This exists and is frequently found in English as well, there just isn’t a direct parallel for kocchi itself.

A number of people were infuriated by this, because they felt some sort of bkdk moment was erased by Katsuki saying "we" rather than "I."

Yet it seemed like these same people were also mad one week prior when the leaker and the official translator worded Katsuki's rallying cry slightly differently.

Chapter 404. Leaker, left. Official, right.

The claim there was apparently that the official translator was ignoring Katsuki's character development.

And like, which is it, guys? Do you want him centering the collective or himself?

The fact is that the official translation's characterization of Katsuki in the final battle is internally consistent with itself, while the leaker's is all over the goddamn place. Let us never forget that the leaker was just straight up WRONG here while the official got it exactly right.

Chapter 408. Leaker, left. Official, right.

People were losing their shit that Viz made Katsuki "insult himself" and "expect failure" as though he's never used temee to refer to himself self-deprecatingly before.

And then the leaker just had to pretend that didn't happen in the next fucking chapter, while the official got to correctly reiterate their interpretation like they were taking a victory lap.

Chapter 409. Leaker, left. Official, right.

All of this makes it unbelievably rich for the leaker to go and say shit like this:

The leaker is an amateur translator. They spent ages stealing an artist's work and releasing it illegally for a profit with shoddy translations and misleading, even outright false "summaries."

Based on the nature of their translation mistakes, it is obvious to me that they are not fluent in Japanese, yet here they are bragging about their inability to understand how kocchi could mean "we."

Right before the line in question, Katsuki emphasizes himself as an individual in declaring himself to be the final boss.

Chapter 405 俺がラスボスだ AFO!! ore ga rasu bosu da AFO!!

And then, by using ってな, Katsuki is basically quoting himself.

"I said we were gonna handle what that guy couldn't, didn't I!?"

This suggests he is repeating the established meaning for emphasis, not changing it. If kocchi was plural when he said it in chapter 323, it's reasonable for it to still be plural here. Katsuki is not ignoring himself as an individual by doing this; he is rubbing it in AFO's face that neither he nor Izuku are solitary actors fighting this battle alone, they both belong to something greater than themselves.

I'm gonna step up on a soapbox for a bit.

I am kinda tired of people calling Japanese vague. I often see it used to imply Japanese is inherently hard to understand or that it doesn't have the capacity for specificity. Like any language, Japanese can be used to express specific, clear, and direct information. While it is true Japanese culture values indirectness as a way to maintain harmony, I would like to challenge the ethnocentricism I feel sometimes goes unaddressed in this topic.

Japanese is less tolerant of repetition and verbal excess than English is; information that has been established should only be repeated for a purpose. Japanese speakers expect their conversation partners to maintain awareness of context, social expectations, and specific interpersonal information to grasp the intended meaning of their words. Specificity is doled out when it is warranted or desired.

Specificity divides one thing from another, drawing lines in the sand and saying "this is this, and that is that." English often requires repetitive specificity to even be grammatically comprehensible. And while this might not be directly related, many English-speaking countries tend to have a more individualistic outlook on society than collectivist countries like Japan.

To me, "vague" often smacks of a value judgment: "there should be division here, and there isn't."

I said earlier that kocchi creates division by highlighting sides, us vs. them, but when people press on and ask, "but did he say we or I? which did he REALLY mean?" I just want to say that really? truly? he meant both. all of the above.

I think it is unproductive to think of Japanese as vague just because it doesn't exclude possibilities as often or as strongly as English does. I think it is a lot more useful and interesting to think of Japanese as expansive.

Why should there be division between Katsuki and the people fighting by his side? Why should he separate himself from the people who saved his life and risked their own in relentless pursuit of their common, heroic goal?

Why is it unacceptable to imagine an "I" belonging so sincerely and wholly to a "we" that their voices are one?

Katsuki's words reflect the fact that this fight being fought by a collective, a team.

In this context, OFA is a weapon in their arsenal, just as Katsuki himself is.

He is a force of nature, an agent of their willpower.

Chapter 404

He rode upon the winds of their prayers, ushered on by Izuku's hopes

and his own regrets,

to change the course of fate itself.

For much of the series, Katsuki is our beacon of individualism, of defiant refusal to bend to the will and expectations of others.

But Katsuki is also our image of victory. He shows us how to face our failures and change our hearts. He is our proof that rejecting others only hurts us in the end—his love for Izuku and Izuku's love for him is the story's greatest proof that as human beings, we are not better alone, we are better with each other. Other people change us, inspire us, and we do the same for them.

We need each other. We belong to each other.

It is in this final battle where Katsuki becomes his truest self, overcoming every obstacle in his path, making up for every painful regret in his heart, and utilizing every single thing in his grasp to save and win.

If Katsuki ever truly belonged to something bigger than himself, it is in this moment right here.

English divides the one from the many, and while that has its benefits, I think there is real, honest beauty to be found in a word that smooths those lines in the sand until there is no distinction at all.

That's who the fucking "we" is, rukasu.

Now onto my next gripe.

Katsuki is supposed to sound badass here

Frankly, the fan fury surrounding Viz's use of "we" completely overshadowed the fact that the phrase "One For All couldn't keep you in the ground" is fucking metal.

It rules. I'm fucking jealous I didn't write those words. It is such a good translation and it packs so much punch and I wouldn't have thought of it in a thousand years.

The official translator focuses his efforts on genre-specific tone translation, and sometimes he really nails it. I will freely admit that I find his style grating or overwrought at times, and indeed, one of his key weaknesses is that the flavor of comic-book dialogue he pulls from can sound one generation too old to be cool.

One of the most damning examples of this is him having Katsuki utter the word "bub"—

Chapter 406

—which I think no English-speaker under the age of 30 had actually heard before Deadpool & Wolverine came out.

Honestly, if you just read Wolverine comics from the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, you can see the character archetype he leans into for Katsuki's dialogue. 405's tagged-on "—and then some!!" is straight out of American action movies.

But the main point here is that Katsuki is taunting AFO and threatening him. He blows up AFO's face, announces himself as the final boss, then vows to kick his ass to death on behalf of everyone. It's amazing.

The line sounds cool as fuck in Japanese. The "naaaa" flourish at the end is nearly untranslatable in any direct way that still captures the appeal and impact of it.

I tend to think of sentence enders like this as flavor text or tone tags. To properly convey them in English, you may have to add a bunch of words, and you have to choose them carefully.

All of this is to say, the official translation tries pretty hard to make Katsuki sound cool. Do they succeed? I think to an extent, they do.

I actually think it's possible the translator did recognize the callback, but wasn't satisfied with the effect of repeating it. You can see that "finish the job" is supposed to link Izuku's actions to theirs, while also sounding grandiose and final.

The Viz translator might've simply prioritized showcasing the cool-guy threat while maintaining the collectivist angle, rather than matching the callback word for word. I don't really think that's the best choice, but I can see why it might be made.

The leaker's translation doesn't make any real effort to up the ante. Maybe this line is cool to somebody, but it ain't me.

In fact, are we ever gonna acknowledge that the leaker's translation just scoops up most of its wording from the official release of chapters 322 and 323?

"I'm the guy who steps in when that nerd can't handle it all on his own!!"

The leaker was not responsible for these translations, but just look at how other people tried to grapple with Katsuki's metaphor.

In fact, the only person whose choice of words prophetically matched Viz was pikahlua, four days before the official release:

And even then, you can see that "step in when" is unique to Viz.

I'm not saying that similarities in translation are unacceptable or that directly referencing the official release is bad, but I do find it truly incredible they had the gall to shit-talk the official translator after cheating off his damn homework.

The leaker basically contributed six words: "I'm the guy who" and "that nerd." I personally disagree with "the guy who" as a translation addition, just because I think it too strongly isolates him in a way that using "I" and "I'm" by themselves do not, but it wouldn't have been terrible if they had also maintained the original clause order: "One For All couldn't handle you... but I'm the guy who—", something like that.

This brings us to my final gripe.

Katsuki did not say “that nerd.”

The leaker made that shit up, they inserted it for no reason and ignored the two pronouns the original text actually provides, OFA and aitsu (that guy).

In the manga, Katsuki has never called Izuku a nerd to villains, not once. It is rare for him to use it while speaking to someone other than Izuku, period. It’s an insulting pet name he uses towards Izuku or while muttering angrily to himself about Izuku.

To be clear, the narrator who uses "shitty nerd" is not Katsuki, they merely validate the accuracy of his nickname for Izuku. Yes, I just linked to my tag for the whole damn 348 chapter, because I've argued against this theory a lot, just read 'em all, it's a good time.

By my count, he only uses it once while talking to Todoroki in chapter 42 and once to Ochako in a 5-page bonus chapter for the first character guide, set shortly after chapter 65. Both take place very early in the series and both are examples of his intense grudge against Izuku.

Did you know that the last time Katsuki uses "nerd" towards Izuku directly is in chapter 320?

Who's ignoring Katsuki's character development again?

The fact is the word doesn't exist in 405's text, and there just isn't precedent for him to say it to All For One.

Trash-talk doesn’t work if your opponent has no clue what the hell you’re talking about. AFO would have no idea who “that nerd” is even supposed to be, because they were not already discussing Izuku, unlike both canon instances of Katsuki using it in conversation with others. The audibly-pronounced aitsu just means "that guy over there (physically near neither you nor me)" and you could argue that is unclear, too, but it's relatively neutral and context clues everyone in to the fact that he means Izuku, with whom he just did an explosive, flying duo move.

I think some bkdk fans were keen to see him use the tsundere insult we all love so much, but it just doesn't read right to me. Writing an insult towards Izuku into this kind of line, even an affectionate one, misdirects the aggression and fails to highlight how Katsuki makes a mockery of AFO during their fight.

I really do think it undercuts how, in his big moment of taunting the greatest villain in history, Katsuki brings up making good on a vow he made to Izuku.

And let's not forget that there is a definitive moment where Katsuki references his relationship with Izuku while taunting AFO:

Chapter 406

To roast the villain for his stupidity in misidentifying him, Katsuki loudly announces himself to be Bakugou no Kacchan.

Katsuki proudly identifies himself with the cutesy nickname his childhood friend has used for him their whole damn lives. That's a far cry from somebody who'd insult Izuku just to hype himself up.

So, no, I don't accept "that nerd." I think the leaker just added it to make their translation sound cooler, but they did so at the expense of Katsuki's character. It's tacky, cheap, and not based in any honest reading of the text.

Put the nickname in your fanworks however brings you joy. Really, go for it, I know I sure do!

But let's not pretend Katsuki said it here.

In conclusion

Katsuki's dialogue offers a unique array of challenges to translators. I would never argue that he is easy to translate, and so much of his characterization is expressed in the minutiae of what he says. Much of his dialogue contains layers of meaning, and any translator is going to have to make a call about how to interpret those layers and what to highlight.

I made this post to say my piece about a translation tons of English-speaking fans love. In the process of dissecting what frustrated me about it, I researched and studied and learned so much.

And to be honest with you, I don't know that I have a solution for this line. I thought of a ton of options:

One For All couldn't keep you in the ground... but we're here to step in and finish the job once and for all!!

I promised we'd step in when that guy couldn't handle it on his own... and I fucking meant it!!

After all, what One For All can't handle... he's got us here to handle for him!!

One For All couldn't stop you… so it's a good thing that guy's got us here to step in and finish the job!!

If the guy with One For All can't get it done alone... then we're here take you down for him!!

Maybe One For All couldn't handle the job alone... but our side is still gonna kick your ass!!

Some of them are very fun, and each highlights a different set of priorities: collectivism, connection, coolness, intimidation, and so on.

But you could pick apart my words the same way I picked apart the leaker's and Viz's.

There will never be a one true translation. There can't be. For as many readers as there are, there are just as many interpretations to what Katsuki's words mean and what is important about them.

In every translation, you face loss—loss of information, loss of specificity, loss of ambiguity, loss of emotionality, loss of cultural meaning. Your job as a translator is to lose as little as possible, and to make sure you can stomach the things you do lose.

You also gain things in translation. New meanings, new layers, new cultural implications. By showing the audience what you see and choosing how you say it to them, you add something of yourself to the work. You can't not.

As a translator, I want to keep learning and trying and going beyond. I want to do right by the things I translate. I want to share the things I love with other people and figure out, as best I can, how to make them see what is beautiful about it.

Unlike Bakugou Katsuki, we translators can never achieve a perfect victory.

But it's always worth trying.

[goatgoesmbe]

Just saw this shorts about military callsign.

(i got this post from google so idk the post link sorry)

So.. im gonna come up with some HC about Taskforce 141 callsign

Soap

He got his name because of his accuracy in room clearance and urban warfare.

Or at least that's what he told people when they asked.

When actually- he got that nickname because that one time in communal shower, he purposefully dropped his soap to make the 'oh no i dropped my soap' joke- only to accidentally slip on it and fall so hard that he bleed everywhere.

You know that scar on his chin?

Yeah, it's from that.

Gaz

It's just short for Garrick- he said.

But also

Big fart.

Yeah, that's it.

One time during an important briefing in a hideout (a quite small place with low air flow) he let out the most disgusting wet fart. And everyone had to just endure it, coz the area outside was monitored by enemies.

Idk, the mre he ate spoiled or smtn

Ghost

Now, his name sounded badass, and from his appearance alone, it makes sense.

It is due to his exceptional covert prowess. The name encapsulates his stealthy demeanor and enigmatic presence.

Sounds cool, right?

Well.. it's not wrong-, he got it because he had a habit of using the toilet in the dark, and didn't even bother to lock it. (I actually do this)

Some recruit walked in, only to see his massive silhouette, sitting on the toilet, staring back at him as a small splash of water was heard when his massive shit got out.

poor fella scream bloody murder as they ran, thinking that he's some kind of ghost that haunted the base toilet. (And yes, similiar thing happened to me once, its a long story)

Price

...

Well- that's just his name so-

Ironically however..

He had a habit of not taking the price tag off of anything, and would shamelessly walk around in his shiny new boots with the tag dangling.

I may return it and ask for a refund someday, who knows - he shrugged. That boots is 3 years old now, the ink on the price tag is fading

Should i do one with Kortac

[tucsonhorse]

There is an organization called Organizing for Power that provides trainings on organizing effectively. They're primarily focused on and based on workplace unionizing and organization, but there is a lot of good information that can be generalized to all organizing.

What that training made me realize is that we *don't* all need to be activists, and in fact it's better that we aren't. Some of us are good activists and that's important because activists get the word out and make noise, but that's not all that needs to be done.

We need organizers who handle the logistics, making sure people know when and where to be and that it's the place to have the most impact. We also need the connectors who seem to know everyone and if you need someone to do a task they'll know just who to ask. And we need the community builders who make people feel welcome and notice when people are struggling so they can pass that info one, the ones that people trust so they can tell them when something is wrong. We need leaders who can inspire people to take action when needed, whether they're inspiring a whole movement or a group of friends. And yes, we also need community members who are just living their lives but are part of and connected to the web of communication/connection that the others have built so that they will know when they are needed to take action and what that action is.

This comic is great, and it's so right about using the skills you have when you can and where they'll be useful.

But not everyone needs to be an activist, and plenty of people don't want to be. Maybe they like chatting with neighbors and would rather be a community builder, or they know everyone in town and are a natural connector. Sometimes the name you give a roll matters a lot.

My comic about why we should all be activists. Made possible by my wonderful patrons at patreon.com/davidhellman Please share, and get involved in your local community!

[mikibwrites]

The Price is Right

inspired by @theweewooshow 's post about a kissing booth :) Happy Valentines Day everyone!

bucktommy | 1.4k | G | ao3

This is ridiculous. He’s officially lost his marbles. 

Tommy’s been in this line for at least fifteen minutes, and every third minute of that has been spent telling himself he should leave. The other 2 minutes of each spiraling cycle have been spent eavesdropping his fellow hopefuls in line, listening to their tittering about how hot the firefighter working this shift of the booth is, surreptitiously cataloguing every person that he can see in front of and behind him and evaluating them on what–little, sadly–he knows about Evan’s preferences and whether or not their dreams of bagging a date with him will come true. Which then, in turn, sends him back into spiraling and berating himself for being among them, given his history with said firefighter. 

He needs to leave. 

There are roughly ten people in front of him, and Evan definitely hasn’t spotted him yet. He could totally duck out and no one would be the wiser. He contemplates pulling his phone out of his pocket with an air of importance, putting the completely silent device to his ear and pretending something dire has just happened that requires his immediate attention. No one would question him for getting out of line, no one would suspect that he’d lost his nerve. They’d think, wow, he must be important to be needed somewhere so urgently. 

Tommy’s definitely, officially for real this time, lost his marbles. 

Also, there are now only seven people left in front of him. 

As he watches each person get their sweet little peck on the cheek, he tries to tell himself this is for a good cause. The money goes to charity. There’s nothing weird about giving to charity. Nothing at all. There’s also nothing stopping him from just dropping the money in the basket on a table near the door that’s designated for just plain donations. He doesn’t need to get anything out of it if that’s all he’s hoping to do. 

He’s definitely hoping to get something out of it. He can at least admit that to himself, if nothing else. 

Five people left. 

“Oh my god, he’s so hot,” Tommy hears from behind him. “Look at those arms. Hold me down, daddy.” He almost chokes, the girl’s voice clearly pitched for just her friend next to her to hear, but he’s apparently blessed with supersonic hearing. The friend chimes in as well. “I wonder if he’s actually a good kisser or if he’s one of those dudes who relies on his rizz alone and then can’t deliver when it counts.”

Tommy has no idea what ‘rizz’ is, but he has to physically stop himself from turning around and describing for this girl in detail just how good of a kisser Evan is, how well he can deliver. He’s sure that wouldn’t go over well. 

Two people left. Evan is being so gracious and attentive to each of his patrons that he still hasn’t noticed Tommy. He could still make a run for it. 

He’s not going to. 

There’s roughly enough time for one more cycle of spiraling before he makes it in front of Evan, but Tommy chooses to spend it going over what the hell he’s going to say. Surely, Evan may protest giving his ex a kiss, even if it’s for charity, given the way they ended. It’d be well within his right to do so. So Tommy needs to have some justifications ready just in case Evan gets the wrong idea here. 

And what is the idea? Tommy failed to decide before he attempted this ridiculous stunt. Honestly, he’s been so, so god damned touch starved since he walked out Evan’s door that he thinks he’d do anything for just a brush of fingertips from Evan at this point. And that’s it, really…he only wants it from Evan. His coworkers have told him multiple times that he needs to just go out and get his ex out of his system–Donato offered to wingperson for him, even–but the very idea turns his stomach. 

But did he actually think that throwing some money at charity at a kissing booth of all things was going to get them anywhere near a reconciliation? Jesus, he should have just texted. Not that he hasn’t tried that, many many many times, and all of them ended up deleted because regardless of what he likes to tell himself he does not have the courage to put himself out there without the reassurance–or despair–of seeing Evan’s actual expression when he says what he wants to say. 

Which is…what? Exactly? He still hasn’t deci–

“Tommy?”

Shit. He’s missed the last person in front of him getting their dutiful peck on the cheek, and now he’s run out of time. 

Evan’s voice as he says his name is full of awe, trepidation, and…dare he say it…hope? His expression is even more devastating: like he’s seeing the sunrise just beginning after a century spent underground. His narrowed eyes are earnest and a little guarded, but they are trained wholly on Tommy.

Shit….what was he going to say?

“Uh, yeah. Hi. I, um…well I. Uh.” Tommy runs his fingers over his hair roughly, feeling unbearably stupid and exposed. He should have run when he had the chance. “Look, Evan, I–”

Evan’s breath hitches audibly at the sound of his name. They’re staring at each other. 

“Shit or get off the pot, dude, we’re all paying customers!” Some guy further back in line is shouting. 

“Um. Did you want a kiss?” Evan says, his face turning pinker by the second. And this. This Tommy can definitely answer.

“Yes,” he says, with maybe a little too much conviction behind the word for their current circumstances. Evan seems to clock it immediately, his eyes flicking down to Tommy’s mouth before coming back up to his eyes, his expression morphing to hopeful disbelief. “But, I mean, you don’t have to, here, I know you probably weren’t expecting–”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Evan’s mouth sealing onto his. 

God, god, he’s missed these lips. Each slide is like a revelation, and the thought is not lost on him that they’re in the middle of what is essentially a work function, they are both in uniform for christ's sake, having a whole existential crisis shared along with their breath and space and saliva. Because yes, Evan has now bullied his insanely talented tongue right behind Tommy’s teeth and is exploring like he’s going to be asked to draw a map later. 

Evan kisses him long, hard, and thorough, endless seconds ticking by and Tommy definitely doesn’t listen to any of the complaining going on in the line behind him. Evan does, though, and he very reluctantly pulls his lips away from Tommy’s and blinks in the most adorably flustered way and Tommy’s so, so gone on this man. How did he ever walk away from this?

“Can we talk?” Evan asks breathlessly.

“Please. But maybe later. Your adoring public awaits,” he adds, gesturing with his thumb to the line behind him, still nearly thirty people strong. He can’t blame them, but he’s also feeling a tad possessive so he leans in one more time to press his lips to the apple of Evan’s cheek, causing the blush to intensify when he pulls away. 

Tommy begins to turn to walk away, his smile already making his cheeks sore when Evan clears his throat. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay, you know.” He’s smirking, the little shit. 

Before Tommy can make a move, someone in line shouts, “Damn! How much does it cost to get that?”

“That is not for sale,” Evan states with finality, but he’s still looking at Tommy, lips pursing, trying to hold back a full blown grin. There are a few groans from the line. 

Tommy reaches into his wallet, pulls out a $100, and slaps it on the table in front of Evan. “What time does your shift end?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at the cafe two blocks down. Bring those lips. We’ll talk.” Tommy congratulates himself on being smooth as he smirks right back at the look on Evan’s face. 

“Mmm, okay. I’ll bring these lips. But I hope you remember they’re good for more than just talking,” Evan adds as Tommy turns to walk away. 

He retracts his self-congratulations as he trips over his own feet. 

[waiting-foratrain]

> do you ever think about how scary remembering being alecto must have been for nona? because i think about that a lot.

(NONA THE NINTH SPOILERS) (this is mostly a post inspired by my personal experience and feelings so feel free to disagree. but also i Am correct)

dissociative amnesia is terrifying. just. full stop, point blank- as a concept, to experience, however- its terrifying. the idea that there’s something missing and half the time you don’t even know it’s gone? and then to remember? to slowly start remembering every horrible thing that happened to you? to be nona, remembering, and suddenly realise that you’re doing what everyone around you seems to have wanted you to do since you first opened your eyes, you’re remembering- only it isn’t helping, and instead, you’re realising that everything you thought you were was built on a fault line that only seems to keep growing with everything more you remember?

and then it’s nona, the girl who’s anger has only ever been treated gently and peacefully by the people who love her, who is determined to be good, to be helpful, suddenly having to remember so much unrestrained anger, so much pain? and the more she remembers, the more she becomes sure that all of that is what she is going to be left as when her time, and her life is up. of course that scared her. how could it not scare her?

i don’t think it was just the realisation of who she had been that was terrifying - it was the understanding that she was a makeshift person walking around in a world where (nearly) everyone else got to be wholly themselves for as long as their bodies lived- but she’d been on borrowed time her whole life, and suddenly she has a rapidly running out countdown.

further - dissociative amnesia isn’t just about the loss, it’s about the shape of the loss. it’s about the gaps in the narrative of your own life, gaps you can’t see because your mind has plastered over them, smoothed them out so seamlessly that you don’t even think to ask what’s missing. It’s about waking up one day and realising the foundation you’ve been standing on isn’t real, and worse, that the truth waiting underneath it might be so much worse than the not-knowing… and when those memories do start to surface, you don’t quite know what it is, but it feels like a betrayal- and you aren’t quite the same as you were before anymore (which happens on such a bigger scale with nona!!!! it’s so important to me, that in ntn, nona’s remembering is not celebrated. so often in media, i see people remembering memories lost to trauma related amnesia portrayed as a good thing, and every time i’m just sat there thinking ‘is it worth it? really?’)

like. just imagine you’re nona, for me. your mind kept those lost memories from you for a reason- it buried them because it thought you wouldn’t survive them, and maybe you won’t, but now, whether you’re ready or not, they’re coming back. they’re clawing their way up from a grave you didn’t even know was there, and you have to look them in the eye and reconcile the person they tell you you were with the person you fought to be.

for nona, remembering meant losing herself. she didn’t just gain alecto’s memories, she became alecto again. the life she had built, the life she had clung to, the love she had felt, all of it just unraveled beneath the weight of who she had been before. how could it not be terrifying?

to remember. to finally give in and remember what she’d been so determined to not, to finally know what you were missing - and have to realise that your fears weren’t unfounded. it is scary - because remembering doesn’t make you whole. sometimes, remembering just erases you instead.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part two)

kms masterlist | <- part one | part three (soon) ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, y/n being an awkward mess, subtle and indirect mention of sexual themes

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron's intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and y/n's mind? that shit was even more tangled. but she hadn't spent seven years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through her fingers ... right?

summary of recent events: y/n and rafe were paired up for a 2 week-long art project. they agreed to meet during lunch break to start working on it. after y/n picked him up after PE, they headed for the school’s dining hall.

word count: 3.3k+

a/n: i don't have much to say for this one as it's just an immediate continuation of the last one but i'm very thankful for the likes and comments on the first part. i didn't expect any at all so a big thank you to everyone who decided to support <3 i hope you also enjoy this one as well :) (also super excited when i’ll get to future parts where y/n gets to be more silly :3)

Important: I started using dividers after chat convos that include more than one screenshot, so you guys know when to switch back to the written story. Yk you usually click on the image to get a full-screen mode to read the messages easier, so whenever the blue rectangle image pops up, you know when to back out. Makes it easier to avoid potential spoilers, hope that makes sense :P

The dining hall at Kildare Academy was moderately full. Most students’ classes were already over, and a lot of Kooks went to the restaurants down the street, even though the serving station offered fresh high-quality food.

Okay, fries weren’t exactly healthy but they probably made them from potatoes grown specifically for Kooks (yes, as a Kook yourself, you were their biggest hater).

Whatever. The dining hall wasn’t the reason your heart was about to explode in your chest.

No. You were having lunch.

With. Rafe. Cameron.

If someone had told you this morning, you would’ve laughed.

Because, hello??? Rafe had been your crush since you’d first set foot in Kildare Academy in fifth grade.

Okay, not exactly special—what Figure 8 girl hadn’t had a crush on Rafe at some point?

But that wasn’t the point. This whole ... thing just felt so surreal.

A crush had always been just that—a crush. You weren’t the type to walk up to a guy and say, Hey, you’re cute, let’s go on a date. That would mean putting yourself out there and making yourself vulnerable.

And the last thing you ever wanted was to be seen.

Not in a physical way. That was unavoidable. No, what scared you was someone actually seeing you, the parts of yourself you kept locked away.

Ew, that sounded so fucking dramatic.

So while your 11-year-old self was doing backflips of joy, your 18-year-old self was having a full-blown existential crisis.

Okay, maybe not that bad.

“You were right,” Rafe said, pulling you from your thoughts. He was sitting across from you, pushing his fork through his quinoa-veggie bowl.

You eyed him confused. “About what?”

Rafe nodded toward your fries, the corner of his lips tugging into a subtle smile. “I am a fries guy. Quinoa tastes like shit and rocks.”

You glanced at his bowl before meeting his gaze again, a knowing smile on your face. “I guess it’s the color. Red and black ones are usually more bitter and more firm than their white counterparts.”

Rafe raised a brow, amused. “As a quinoa expert, you could’ve warned me.”

Your cheeks heated. You kind of had, with that dumb joke outside the gym earlier. “I thought you already knew what it tasted like.”

“I do,” he shrugged, taking a bite of his bowl anyway. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to label me as the fries guy.”

Wait—was that a joke? And why did he care what you thought about him?

God, I suck at whatever this is.

So you just forced a chuckle and took a sip of your water.

…

…

...

Shit.

Now there was that awkward silence you always dreaded in conversations.

Okay, okay, stay calm.

Should I say something? Should I offer him my fries?

You almost laughed. Hell no, that’d be so weird. Plus the quinoa part of his bowl didn’t even take up a third of the whole meal.

You wished Cara were here. She’d know exactly what to say and how to act. She went on dates all the time, made out with guys at parties just for fun, and could hold a normal fucking conversation with a guy she was interested in.

“So, you like… a real artist or something?” Rafe asked absentmindedly, breaking the unbearable silence. “Since you picked Art as an elective?”

You looked up, quickly swallowing the bite of fries in your mouth before giving him a nervous smile. “Yeah, I mean—no, I wouldn’t call myself a real artist, not like Da Vinci or such.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I just draw sometimes when I’m bored.”

Jesus Christ, did he have to look at you like that? His blue eyes were drilling into your entire existence.

Rafe nodded. “Digital or traditional?”

You blinked at him, stunned.

How the fuck did Frat Boy Rafe Cameron know the difference between digital and traditional art?

Your expression made him smirk. And as if he had read your thoughts, he said, “My little sister Wheezie draws random shit on her iPad all the time.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, figured it was a thing—”

“No, I mean—yes, totally,” you blurted, immediately turning red because you just cut him off. “Most people start with pencil and paper but drawing on a tablet or iPad is just as legit. Um… so, yeah … I do both, to answer your question.” You smiled awkwardly.

Help, he would’ve had a more entertaining conversation with a rock.

Rafe barely raised a brow, a lazy smile on his lips. “It’s cool that you draw. Guess I got lucky having you as my partner for this project.”

WHAT.

Okay, everything’s chill.

NO, NOTHING WAS CHILL.

Is he flirting with me??? Is he just being nice ??? WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN.

What were you even supposed to reply to that?

Hahaha, thanks, did you know I made our Sims get married in eighth grade? Topper was your best man by the way.

WHAT THE FUCK, NO, STOP.

Whatever, just say something. Anything.

“Thanks,” you mumbled with an embarrassed smile, eyes fixed on your fries and salad.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe lean back, pushing his half-eaten bowl aside. He shrugged. “Only sucks for you. Art’s not really my thing.”

No shit.

Also, what was that supposed to mean? Was he fishing for a compliment? Like Aww, no, come on, I’m sure you’re great at it.

Holy shit. Was Rafe Cameron secretly a pick-me guy? Were all these years crushing on him wasted?

“Yeah, I figured. Most people just take art class thinking it’ll be an easy A”, you said before he could say more and give you the ick.

OH my god, take it back, take it back—

When you saw his expression, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back. He looked… surprised? Confused? Maybe a little offended…?

Then the tension in his face eased. His lips twitched slightly before curving into a lopsided grin, making him look unexpectedly boyish.

“Shit, yeah. Guess that makes me ‘most people’”, he said with such ease, it was like you hadn’t just called him out.

How the hell did he manage to turn all your miserable attempts at a normal conversation into something so smooth? If you were in his place, you would've already walked out and dropped art class.

Yo, Mr Smith, this chick you paired me up with, she’s got the social skills of a dead fish.

This was so frustrating. It wasn’t like you were socially incompetent—not really—but around him, your brain just seemed to completely shut down.

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, furrowing your brows, annoyed at your own nervousness.

“Nah, it’s true,” Rafe replied, shrugging. Then he looked at you, a teasing edge in his voice. “So, if your art grade tanks, you know who to blame.”

Okayyy, he was either trying to get on your good side or looking for a smooth way out of this project—and you weren’t sure which was worse.

You swallowed your last fry and gave a chuckle. I sound like a fake ass bitch. “I’m sure you'll manage. Art is not about drawing perfectly — it’s more about the ideas and how you approach them.”

Jesus, you sounded just like Mr. Smith.

Rafe’s lips twitched into a cocky smirk. “Alright, then I guess you’ll have to help me be more creative.”

...

HUH?

OKAY. I MEAN SURE.

Be for fucking real, did he even realize what his words did to you?

Of course, he did—he probably flirted with girls daily. Or was he just lucky to be born with full charisma stats?

Probably both.

God, this was so embarrassing. Your face probably screamed HI CAN YOU MARRY ME, and to him, you were just some random Kook girl he was stuck with for a boring art project.

Okay, wait no.

Now YOU sounded like a pick-me.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said, cheeks pink, before clearing your throat to change the subject. “Okay, so… maybe we should start brainstorming some ideas? Like a mind map or mood board or something?”

Rafe leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, and you had to fight the urge to glance at his biceps which flexed slightly as he moved. “Mood board? You talking about Pinterest type shit?”

Okay, wow, Rafe was absolutely not the type of guy you thought he was. Did he know about this stuff from Wheezie? Or some friends-with-benefits girlie?

Um, no, Y/N, none of your business.

You gave him a quick nod. “Yeah, something like that. We can also just start by writing stuff down.”

Rafe shrugged in agreement. “Okay.”

Okay.

He looked at you expectantly.

Ugh, did he really expect YOU to be the one taking notes?

Well, crush or not, he was still just a guy, after all.

You reached for the iPad in your bag, grabbed the Apple Pencil, and opened the Notes app.

As you scribbled down today’s date and gave the note a title, Rafe leaned in even closer, glancing at your screen. “Is this the iPad you use for drawing?”

He was so close now, his woody-aquatic aftershave filling your nose, giving you a strange feeling in your chest … and a very special part in your lower body.

“Yeah,” you replied shortly.

“Show me something then.”

“No.”

HUH?

“No?” Rafe’s gaze flicked from the screen to your flushed face, his lips curling into a crooked grin. There was a cocky glimmer in his gaze.

Good heavens, up close his eyes looked even more beautiful. They were the kind of blue people wrote bad poetry about. To you, they were a pretty contradiction—cold in color, warm in the way they lingered on your own eyes.

Heart racing, you looked away and laughed nervously. “I mean… maybe we should focus on the project first, you know, time pressure and all.”

With an amused scoff, Rafe leaned back again, glancing at his phone (wow, rude) for a second before saying, “To the boring part then."

Somehow it felt like you'd scratched his ego.

Girl, how could you mess up this badly? He probably thought you were some pretentious nerd now.

“So… do you have any ideas?” You twirled the Apple Pencil in your fingers, just praying for this painfully long lunch break to end.

Rafe pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw. The glass of his Rolex reflected a spectrum of lights under the ceiling’s lights. “Uh… dunno. What’s the prompt again? A modern take on the Greek gods?”

“A reinterpretation,” you corrected — then realizing you sounded like a know-it-all, so you quickly added, “but yeah, a modern version could definitely count.”

He nodded absentmindedly, fingers drumming on the table. “Okay, so…", he gave a dry laugh and ran a hand over his face. "Shit, what a stupid prompt."

You chewed the inner part of your cheeks. Okay, he clearly had zero interest in spending his free period working on some elective class’ project with you.

But it had been his idea to meet during lunch, you reminded yourself.

Forcing a smile, you offered, “We can always do this later. We still have two weeks.”

Rafe raised a brow. “You got plans or something?”

Oh. Guess that didn’t go over well.

You shook your head. “No, but if you’re not feeling it—”

“I’m not,” he cut in, his fingers stopping their steady rhythm against the table. “But we’re already here, so.”

That didn’t sound very motivated.

“Yeah, I guess”, you said, cringing at the sudden bitterness in your tone.

By the shift in Rafe’s expression, he must have noticed but before he had a chance to comment on it, you quickly picked up on what he’d said earlier. “So, a modern version of Olympus sounds fun. Maybe we can make it about the gods’ roles in today’s society or something like that.”

Rafe eyed you quietly, his expression impossible to read. He then tilted his head, scratching his nose. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe Zeus as the CEO of Olympus Industries or some shit. He’s the big boss, right? And everyone else just kinda works for him.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. A corporate structure? Why were you not surprised.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused.

You shook your head, cheeks heating up again. “Nothing, that’s… that’s good.”

He raised his brows, a challenging tone in his voice. “You think it’s crap.”

“No,” you replied quickly, then adopted a more serious expression. “Really, it’s a nice take. Maybe his wife — Hera I mean — could be his girl boss PR manager, always cleaning up his scandals?”

A grin tugged at his lips, and with that, the weird tension in the air seemed to fade. “Shit, isn’t she also his sister? Well, yeah, guess she’s gotta cover up his dozen affairs. That guy’s a huge player.”

Okay, real talk—where did he get all this information from? He really didn’t seem like the guy to be interested in greek mythology.

It was cute though.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You seem to be an expert in this field.”

He scoffed amused, leaning back into his chair. His eyes mustered you with a strange mix of entertainment and irritation. “You think I'm a fuckboy or some shit?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. Huh? What did he mean—

…

Did he-- ... OH SHIT.

A revolting feeling spread in your stomach and your cheeks probably invented a new shade of red.

WHY ON EARTH HAD YOU PHRASED IT LIKE THAT?!

Some evil gods or spirits must be messing with you right now because there was no way this situation could get any more awkward.

Frantically, you shook your head. “What? I… oh my god, no. NO! I was referring to the Greek gods. Not… you don’t give off such vibes. I mean, it’s none of my business anyway.”

Hey, if there’s a sniper out there, please take me out.

In your mind, you already estimated the cost of moving to another country. Canada had pretty landscapes and New Zealand--

A laugh escaped his lips — cocky, yet carrying a certain warmth. It made your heart stop and race at the same time.

“Relax,” he said bemused, leaning forward with his arms crossed, biceps flexing again. “People have said worse things to my face.”

No, this didn’t sit right with you.

You shook your head again, daring to meet his eyes. “No, I’m serious, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just … surprised about your knowledge of Greek mythology.” You froze, realizing this also sounded stupid. “Not that I took you for clueless…” Shit. You sighed. “It was stupid of me to phrase it like that and I don’t want you to think I take you for a fuckboy. It’s a shitty term anyway.”

Your nerves were going crazy and you fidgeted with the case of your iPad, waiting for his response.

Rafe silently STARING at you didn’t help at all. He seemed … surprised, maybe a little perplexed even.

SAY SOMETHING PLEASE.

“Alright”, he finally said, his usual cocky expression returning to his face. He slightly shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze for just a second but long enough for you to notice. “Guess I picked up a bit from Wheezie when she had to do a presentation for school or whatever. She couldn't shut up about it. Shit was annoying as hell.”

For a moment, you didn't know what to respond. Why wasn't he offended? Why didn't he mock you for being so awkward?

You smiled, trying to relax your nerves. “Sounds like we could use her little expert knowledge on this project.”

Rafe gave a low chuckle. “Well, I believe we’ve already got a little expert right here”, he said with a crooked smile, his eyes burning a hole into your soul.

Oh. My. God.

The teasing edge in his voice made your brain shut down. This had to count as flirting, right? RIGHT?!

You chuckled nervously, cheeks a deep shade of red, and placed the Apple Pencil back on the screen. “Then I hope whatever I picked up from reading Percy Jackson will be enough.“

That's it, Y/N, you are officially banned from doing any more jokes.

-----------------------------------------------

In English class, you could finally breathe again.

Your suffering was over.

During the rest of the lunch break, Rafe and you had talked about some more ideas. Gladly, you hadn’t embarrassed yourself any further (if that was even possible because you’d definitely reached your peak today).

At the end of lunch, Topper had picked him up and they’d left for their own English class. Your goodbyes had been a little awkward but you’d managed.

Right now, you were grateful they didn’t attend the same class as you because you certainly didn’t want to listen to them laughing about what a weird ass person you were.

Okay, just breathe. I did it, it’s over.

You tried to concentrate on whatever Mrs. Andrade was talking about but only half the students truly paid attention.

Afternoons in the Outer Banks truly were a cruel thing.

So you decided to check your phone:

Sighing quietly, you put your phone away and rubbed your temples. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, yet at the same time, it felt so empty.

Maybe I'm lucky and tomorrow I’ll wake up to a big newsflash: This just came in, Kildare Academy was reduced to ashes by a sudden fire.

But when had you ever been lucky?

Your phone buzzed again but you really didn’t feel like talking and thinking about Rafe anymore.

This guy had thrown you off track in just an hour but in the best and worst way possible.

And even though every part of you wanted to run from the thought of seeing him again — the way that uncomfortable feeling in your chest wouldn’t let up — there was still a small part of you that found yourself oddly eager to see him again, work with him on that stupid little project and listen to his stupid little laugh.

Because somehow in just sixty minutes you’d learned more about Rafe Cameron than you had in nearly seven years at Kildare Academy.

For instance, he was a lot kinder than you’d expected. Not that you’d ever thought he was like a high school movie bully or some shit but his occasional soft smiles and the way he didn't mock you when you'd said some stupid shit had definitely surprised you.

Plus he seemed to care about his little sister which was such an attractive attribute (and the bare minimum let's be honest).

All of this was so strange.

It sounded stupid but Rafe Cameron had always been just a concept to you. A crush you enjoyed looking at and maybe making up your own little idea of (and some scenarios to fall asleep to be for real).

But now he was... real and—

Bzzrt.

Seriously, Cara had class too—and with Ms. Langford, no less. And unlike Mrs. Andrade, she wasn’t exactly chill.

You picked up your phone again, expecting some delusional text messages—but the moment you saw the notification on your lock screen, your heart stopped.

No fucking way.

NO. FUCKING. WAY.

Holding your breath, you unlocked your phone, and the second your eyes landed on the profile picture, your heart took off in a full sprint. You didn’t even register Mrs. Andrade calling your name.

Because by some strange twist of fate, Rafe Cameron had gotten your number and decided to text you—after what you were sure had been your ultimate humiliation today.

You didn’t know whether to grin, cheer, or jump out of your seat—shit, maybe all three—but instead, you just sat there, wondering if there really was a god of luck and if he’d just decided to bless you.

-----------------------------------------------

kms masterlist | <- part one | part three (soon) ->

-----------------------------------------------

Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee

[forthefictionallesbians]

I don't think we've really grappled with affini biorhythms, and their impact on society. We've all heard stories about them from overeager florets, or the urban legends about what happens if an affini decides to stay near you for too long. It's honestly kind of terrifying, knowing that our wills can be so easily subverted on the whim of our benevolent overlords.

But at the same time, I can't think of the last time I saw the parks on Tyriador-IV this crowded. Or the bars and restaurants, the bookstores and museums. Yes, some of that is undoubtedly that the old pollution has been scrubbed, transit has been made cheap and affordable, outdoor spaces have become vastly more pleasant, and we no longer need to work long hours just to survive. The affini claim that it is simply due to that, the fruits of their social reforms and alteration of our material circumstances. That is the easy narrative, one I haven't even heard the most rabid feralists question, though they see it as far more sinister than I believe it to be.

I think otherwise. If you're reading this post, I'd ask that you look, really look, at the spaces where people tend to congregate. The spaces and venues that fill up day after day. I'm willing to bet that, regardless of the planet or vessel you're on, you'll see the same thing I've noticed--people go where the affini are. Even with all the complaints I've seen independents make about their incessant flirting, or how unsettling it can be to be surrounded by florets, the majority of the humans here spend significant amounts of time hanging around areas also filled with affini. Even I've found myself doing it.

Nobody I've asked has even been conscious of this bias in their own behavior. Most seem to think I'm some feralist grasping at straws, or just plain crazy. But I'm not. I am as grateful as anybody that they got rid of the old fascist Accord and replaced it with this utopia. I just need people to take me seriously when I say that I think we're all unconsciously dosing ourselves on their biorhythm. Not to the point where we're getting tied to any one individual affini. But collectively? Our entire species is drifting towards subservience in ways we didn't even realize. I tried to avoid all affini this last week, staying in my hab to avoid any biorhythm exposure, and I almost had a panic attack. It was only after my Hab AI called for a crisis vet that I realized I used to have panic attacks all the time, and they'd stopped after the affini took over. Just being around them is subtly soothing, and we're slowly waltzing our collective way towards dependency.

I wonder how much easier to domesticate we've gotten after years of daily exposure. Not everyone is as on-the-brink as I am, and obviously there are still plenty of stubborn holdouts. But please, search your feelings. See if you enjoy being out and about, and then test whether you enjoy it as much if you're still outside but away from any affini. Everyone needs to be aware of this, even if I myself can't resist how much I enjoy their presence.

It's hard to even fall asleep without a biorhythm subtly pulsing through me these days. I'm very grateful that Phiola has been letting me sleep firmly nestled in her vines. But please, don't discount my words because I'm a ward, and will likely be a floret soon. This feels like important information to share, if just so all the rest of you wannabe independents can know just how deeply ensnared you already are.

-Eric Statler, he/they

[darlingdaisyfarm]

I love your blog sm, please never leave us 🙏 if it’s not a big problem, could I req headcanons or fic bout drunk!Ford and drunk!Stan x reader 👀 nsfw <3

∘˚₊· ʚ🍻ɞ ·₊˚∘ drunk!Stanley x reader headcanons

a/n: thank you for requesting this because i absolutely love this idea! so uhhhh ... i know you asked for both Ford & Stan but i kinda just got carried away with Stan lol, i love him so much. Ford's will come later i swear i just need to gather my braincells first 🥺 i also had no idea what pic to use but this one is pretty cool

nsfw

★ drunk!Stan rambles about marrying you every five minutes. and the problem is that he sounds so dead serious, even though hes glassy-eyed, he still mumbles about finding stealing a ring. he swears up and down that he’s gonna give you the biggest fucking wedding the town’s ever seen!

★ totally cries if you scold him. “babe, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to!!” he doesn’t even know what he did :( he’s just clutching your hands, looking up at you with glassy, pathetic puppy-dog eyes. “do. . . do you still love me?” :((( “i promise i wont screw up anymore”

★ i believe that Stan is a fucking loud drunk. he’s the guy who starts yelling even though he’s right next to you. “BABE. BABY. SWEETHEART. LISTEN. LISTEN TO ME. I GOTTA TELL YA SOMETHIN’ IMPORTANT“ and he immediately forgets what he was gonna say

★ clings to you like a damn koala (i headcanon that it's his habit from childhood). one arm slung around your waist, his face buried in your neck, whining about how much he loves you <3

★ “YA SEE THIS?” he shouts, absolutely hammered, slamming his drink down and pointing at you. “THIS IS THE LOVE OF MY GODDAMN LIFE, EVERYONE PAY RESPECTS.”

★ turns into the biggest, neediest, whiniest bitch the second you start petting his hair. melts into your touch, groaning like you’re giving him a full-body massage

★ “hey babe, babe, listen. listen. i could still totally pick you up. no, i ain’t that drunk. watch.“ promptly falls on his ass :)

★ drunk texts you while you’re sitting next to him. “you look so good rn wanna make outtt”

★ gets real quiet for a second, then just grabs you, full-body clings, putting his head on your shoulder and absolutely refuses to let you go. “yer real warm. like. so warm. like. god, i love you. so much. like. i would fight god for you.” rubs his face against you like a big cat. “mmm. soft. mineeee”

★ grabs your hands, starts playing with your fingers. “how are yer hands so small!!! youre adorable, lookit this. we match!!!”

★ “i would sell my fuckin’ soul to eat you out on a casino poker table.”

★ loves to lean in, blabbering “babe. babe, we should fuck.” and immediately trips over his own feet and almost faceplants. “cmon, sugar, i still got it. promise. just. gimme a sec to stop seein’ double. . .“

★ tries to be smooth, but ends up being an absolute mess. he's so clumsy and his coordination is absolute garbage. “yer s’pretty. s’gorgeous. wanna—“ hiccup “wanna do bad things to ya.”

★ he is literally groping you in public, so u have to physically drag him home, but he stops you with “no babe, let’s do it right now. what d’you mean we’re in a bar? who cares? they should be honored to watch”

★ Stan tries to take you right then and there. against the bar wall, in the backseat of the car, pressed up against a damn pool table. does not give a single fuck, if he wants you then he wants you, that's it, he's just super clingy and needy when drunk

★ grumbles like a brat if you try to move away. “noooo, no, baby, stay, c’mon, lemme touch ya, lemme hold ya.“

★ during kiss he starts crying over something stupid. i see him as a big fan of animals so im sure hed let his sappy side shown “babe, i—i saw a dog earlier—he had such a lil face—“ then immediately changes topic and sobs into your neck, mumbling about all the things he loves about you. your smile, your laugh, your warmth, the way you always put up with his bullshit

★ he is fucking humping you. rutting against you like a goddamn teenager, grinding his cock against your thigh, moaning into your mouth and whiny as fuck. “babe—babe, c’mon, need it so bad, need ya, fuck, m’hard, babe, please“

★ so needy before he even gets inside you. you grind against him once and he’s whimpering, rubbing his face into your chest, muttering, "fuck—oh, fuck, babe, i can’t, m’gonna fuckin’ die”

★ he lets you do whatever the hell you want to him. has no resistance. tell him to lie back, spread his legs, let you take care of him, he’s doing it immediately. “shit, baby, you can do whatever ya want with me” his words slur when you push him down. Stan loves when you’re in control. he loves feeling helpless with you. “sweetheart, ya got me, got me so good, god, i’m all yours”

★ he needs to kiss you constantly so he kisses you through his own moans, muffling every whimper into your mouth. his lips are swollen, but he keeps going, but if you pull away he immediately whines, pawing at you, pouting. “nuh-uh, sugar, gimme another one, one more, just one more”

★ so goddamn eager to please. he’s already sloppy with his tongue when he’s sober, but when he’s drunk. . . “gonna“ hiccups “lemme eat ya out, babe, lemme—“ he trails off, just shoving his face between your legs

★ if he tries to be cocky, he 100% fails immediately. “y’know i could make ya come in five seconds flat, right, sweetheart?” now that's a bold statement, so you decide to tease him saying “oh yeah? prove it.” as result, he fumbles his belt, gets tangled and falls off the bed

★ the moment you’re alone, he’s all over you. hands grabbing at your waist, cupping your ass, pulling you flush against him. i bet groaning like a slut every time you move. “fuuuuck, babe, y’feel so good—jesus, lemme touch ya, so good for me”

★ literally cannot stop touching you, even after he’s cum. nuzzling into your neck, lazy fingers playing with your clit, begging for second round bc he just cant get enough

★ if you're not here with him when hes drunk, he would absolutely text you smth like “babe ya up? cause m’fuckin’ hard, thinkin’ bout ya” which leads to him sending a dick pic with his thumb in the way. “ffffuck. waitt lemme try again”

★ i love showing that this silly old man doesn't know how to use his phone so here's more: ofc he'd send you “thinkin bout ya. fuck baby, wish ya were here right now.” interesting and very tempting right? you smirk, typing back. “yeah? what would you do if i was?”

Stan: gimme a sec

and you wait, you wait a long time. then your phone dings again with message “FUCK. wait. fuckin camera’s flipped” you raise an eyebrow when suddenly another ding.

stan: HOLY SHIT WAIT NO

you open the picture and it’s literally just his forehead, his fucking forehead. you laugh typing “baby what am i supposed to do with it?”

Stan: jesus fuck i was tryna be sexy. whatever. just get over here n’ sit on my fuckin face instead

it came to my mind so suddenly and i think it's cute so i wanted to write it, can be mullet!Stan or our lovely old man Stan, doesn't matter, this man is clingy and needy as fuck when drunk

so. . . imagine you have to take care of his dumb ass :)

“okay, c’mon, big guy,” you grunt, dragging Stan toward the bed, but he’s completely deadweight. arm slung over your shoulder, mumbling absolute nonsense and you groan about his weight, damn hes so big

“babe,” he slurs, grinning all dopey, cheeks flushed. “babe, yer so fuckin’ cute. cutest person in the whole damn world.”

“yeah, yeah,” you huff, trying not to laugh. “cutest person currently trying to keep your ass from collapsing on the floor.”

“hell yeah, i would collapse for you," he says seriously what makes you snort, finally managing to shove him onto the comfy soft bed. but before you can step away, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you right down with him. “nuh-uh,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “yer stayin’ here. m’not sleepin’ without ya.”

“Stan.”

“shhh.” he nuzzles closer, his voice already sleepy. “jus’ gimme a kiss, babe.”

you sigh, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. but apparently, that’s not enough. he tilts his head up and looks at you through half-lidded, lips parted.

“mmm. no, sweetie. real kiss.”

“Stan, you’re drunk.”

“m’not that drunk.” he smirks, dragging you down. ”c’mon, sugar. jus’ one.” how can you reject those brown puppy eyes? you kiss him, despite everything, you bring your lips to his, hoping for a light and absolutely innocent kiss, but of course, Stanley immediately turns it filthy, deepening it, groaning into your mouth, trying to pull you on top of him.

“mmm, babe, let's fu—“

“go the fuck to sleep, Stan.”

i could end it right here, but i think that both Stan and Ford, when drunk, will definitely tell you about all their kinks

so you were just trying to get him to bed, but oh no. he’s got something really, really important to tell you. and, of course, he’s whispering it all breathy against your ear. it starts off all sweet snd clingy though, hes saying things like “yer my favorite person ever. ever. fuckin’ love ya. best thing that ever happened to me. wanna keep ya forever. never lettin’ go. nope. yer mine now.” and smothers you in sloppy kisses, your cheek, your jaw, your lips and everywhere he can reach. his hands are wandering, gripping, stroking, but he’s just so damn lazy about it.

and it's not like you dont enjoy it, of course you do, so you let him touch you like that but then he whispers “baby i gotta tell u smth. y’ever think about doin’ real filthy shit?” Stan hiccups and presses his face against your neck. “cause, fuck, i got, like, so many things i wanna do to ya” he pulls back, gripping your face, staring at you all serious. “baby i wanna bend ya over every goddamn surface in this house. countertop. . . table. . . or fuck- fucking you against the wall. shit, babe—just. . . love it when you let me take ya from behind, love seeing that pretty ass bounce. f-fuck, and when ya moan my name like that makes me wanna breed ya.” OH. OH?? damn, your mouth drops open. “Stan—“

“m’serious!” he groans, dragging you onto his lap, rocking his hips up into you. “always wanna fill ya up, sugar. wanna see ya all full n’ dripping” he’s nuzzling into your neck now, biting, groaning against your skin. ”yer so soft, babe. wanna mark ya up. wanna ruin ya so bad. i love when ya pull my hair or when ya get all bratty. fuckin’ love puttin’ ya in yer place. . . or when ya get all sweet n’ beg for it, shit, babe, i’d do anything if ya begged real nice”

he’s rubbing his flushed face against your chest now, breathing heavy, a complete mess. “i love ya. yer the best thing that ever happened to me.”

you sigh, dragging a hand through his hair, smiling despite the fact that ur crazy heart is about to jump out of your chest.

“baby, you’re so drunk.”

he huffs, clinging tighter. “yeah? so what? doesn’t make it less true.”

[rosinasnoot]

I love this. This is a beautiful showcase of an idea I try to keep close, done through a metaphor that uses my favorite animal.

“What would it take for that to be me?” is such an important question to ask to get along with people who are different in ways you disapprove of. What would it take for me to not shower for a week? What would it take for me to get sucked into a cult? What would it take for me to lose everything I have and end up on the streets?

And sometimes the question is one where in the metaphor you’re part of the flock and can hate with abandon (“What would it take for me to become an incel?” “What would it take (or what would it have taken) for me to hate X group?” and so on don’t apply to everyone), but it’s also important to be aware when someone you know is the sheepdog watching everyone else celebrate the wolf’s downfall and thinking, “That could have been me. It would have been so easy for you to hate me like you hate him.”

The wolf, given food, can be kind. The sheepdog, in its absence, can be cruel, for he is not fundamentally different from the wolf. The human, with all their nuance and baggage, can always choose redemption or corruption. The human does not get to claim that they are cruel by nature, incapable of change, and likewise they are not forced to stay on the path that they have chosen and they are not defined by their past.

© pet_foolery

[keeryhours]

no one knows (oh, what you do to me) - steve harrington

CEO!Steve Harrington x personal assistant fem! reader

Main Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

1k Celebration Masterlist

Summary:

Your boss is too hot for his own good.

1k celebration prompt: “Behave.”

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, smoking, unspecified age gap

Word Count: 3k

A/N:

Thank you for celebrating with me! You can still request here if you want to join!

Big big shoutout to the best @punkrockmlchael @the-witty-pen-name @lesservillain @fizzing-imagines @losingmygrasponreality for reading and helping with ideas!

Mr. Harrington fastened his cuff links, staring intently at his reflection in the mirror in his large office. His hair was perfectly styled, his expensive suit dry cleaned and pressed. He had spritzed on the slightest bit of his cologne, the scent intoxicating even from the other side of the room.

You came over to him with your binder in hand, little black dress hugging your curves just right. This company party was an important one, there would be CEOs and presidents from multiple large companies in attendance. You could tell Steve was nervous. There was a major deal he was hoping to close.

“Can I help with anything, Mr. Harrington?” You asked, opening your binder and looking through the list of tasks. As his personal assistant, you were determined to help this party run as smoothly as possible. “The caterers have arrived, they just finished getting set up downstairs.”

Steve glanced away from the mirror to meet your eyes, giving you a kind smile that did nothing to hide his nerves. “No, you’ve done amazing. Thank you.”

The electricity between you felt like a physical presence. You had always been drawn to Steve, from the moment you got hired at his company. You originally had been hired as a receptionist, but Steve took such a liking to you and how you did things that he promoted you to his personal assistant. You loved the job. It paid well, it was exciting work, something you were good at, and Mr. Harrington was a kind and fair boss.

He was also extremely good looking. Maybe a little too old for you. And, you know. Your boss.

It didn’t stop you from swooning over him, or constantly gushing about him to your friends, or thinking of him when you were alone.

It didn’t help, the way he looked at you. Like he felt it, too. The way his gaze would linger on you whenever he had the chance, how he would place a hand on your back and let it linger too long, the way he always wanted you by his side (which probably was because you were his assistant, but you’d read into it if you wanted to, dammit). Steve was quiet about his private life, but you had certainly noticed the lack of a ring on his finger.

Lisa, the new secretary, popped her head into the office. “The guests are arriving, Mr. Harrington.”

He gave her a nod. “Thank you, Lisa.” He looked over his appearance in the mirror one more time, and you wished you could tell him he looked perfect and sexy as hell, not a single thing out of place. “Are you ready?” He asked you.

“Ready,” you confirmed, and he surprised you by holding his arm out for you. He looked at you expectantly as you stared at it in shock, but finally snapped yourself out of it and linked your arm with his.

Down at the party, things were in full swing quickly. You trailed Steve as he spoke to about a million businessmen and women, introducing you as his assistant. You were surprised he deemed you important enough to introduce to these people at all. They were nice enough, but quickly turned their attention back to Steve.

The alcohol was flowing, and everyone was in good spirits. Steve’s conversations with the other professionals were going well, especially with Mr. Connor, the CEO he was trying to close a deal with. You could always tell when Steve was happy with how a deal was going because he could never wipe off that charming smile, the laugh lines on his face prominent.

“Do you want to get some fresh air with me?” Steve asked after a little while. It was getting stuffy in there and you were a few drinks deep, so you agreed. Steve led you out the back glass doors onto a private balcony.

He pulled a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from behind a potted plant, pulling one out and placing it between his lips. You raised your eyebrows, and he smirked as he brought the flame of the lighter up to the cigarette. “Our little secret,” he said.

Somehow, it made him even hotter. And now you had a secret together? It might have been the alcohol, but your head was spinning with how badly you wanted this man.

And maybe it was also the alcohol, but you were feeling a little bold.

Your pen slipped from your hand (totally by mistake, of course), clattering to the ground. “Oh, shoot,” you hissed, and you bent over, giving Steve the perfect view of your ass in your short dress.

You could practically feel Steve’s eyes on you. And oh, was he looking. His eyes shamelessly dragged over the curve of your perfect ass, the tiniest glimpse of your black lace panties beneath. The smoke left his lips in a slow cloud as he took in every inch of you he could before you stood again, his pants now uncomfortably tight.

“Sorry,” you blushed, leaning back against the balcony as you faced him again.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

You only blushed deeper, your eyes roaming Steve’s figure, his immense sex appeal only increased as you watched him smoke. “Sorry,” you said again out of habit.

Steve chuckled. “You look beautiful tonight.”

You cheered internally. He had really just complimented you.

“You don’t look bad yourself, Mr. Harrington,” you smiled at him, a little flirtatious. For the year you’ve dreamed of making some kind of move, you’re still beyond shocked that you’re actually doing it.

“Please,” he waved his hand with the cigarette before dragging on it one more time. “Call me Steve.”

He had never told you to do that before. Your heart thundered in your chest - what did this mean?

“My ex wife never liked when I smoked,” he commented randomly. “So now I keep it quiet.”

It was the first thing Steve had ever told you about his personal life. It caught you off guard, and your own next words surprised you even more. “Are you single now?”

Steve smirked at the question. “Yes. I am.” Another drag. “You?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, completely giddy that he’d even asked. “Single.” He smiled again, giving you a little nod like he approved of that.

When he finished his cigarette he stubbed it out, tossing it off the balcony. He straightened his suit and slid a hand over his always immaculate hair. “Ready to get back to it?”

Back at the party, you were suddenly physically much closer to Steve. He led you around with his large hand on the small of your back, and you could almost pretend you were his date. His young little trophy wife, attending events on his arm without a pen and binder clutched to your chest.

Steve being into you out back had only boosted your confidence, and the cocktails were certainly helping. You would make a point to slide in front of him in tight spaces, muttering a quiet “Excuse me,” as you brushed your ass over the crotch of his pants completely on purpose. You could feel his breath hitch behind you; the way he twitched like he wanted to move away but also wanted to touch you. You kept bending over in front of him again and again, leaning across him and pushing your breasts near his face.

It was working. Steve’s attention was entirely on you, totally distracted whenever a colleague would speak to him. Something about his demeanor seemed a little on edge, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you by the arm and pulling you out into the hallway. Your eyes were wide when he spun on you.

“I’m carrying this company’s reputation on my back,” he said, eyes shining with intensity. “This is potentially the most important deal of my life.” He leaned in close, lips brushing against your ear. It gave you goosebumps. “So you need to be a good girl and behave.”

Your mouth parted in silent shock. An electrical current ran through your body, right to your core. His hand trailed up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress up slowly.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He practically growled in your ear.

“I-“

“Oh, don’t act cute,” he sneered. “You know exactly what you’re doing. You may be young, sweetheart, but you’re not some innocent little girl.”

You were speechless. Steve looked like he was fighting something in his own head; he cursed under his breath. “We’re not gonna be able to go back to that party until we get this out of our systems, are we?”

And with that he pulled you to the elevator. “Where are we going?” You asked, attempting to keep up with his long strides in your heels without falling on your face.

“To my office,” he said simply. He pressed the button for the top floor and the doors slid closed.

The second they did, Steve was on you. He pushed you up against the wall, his lips on yours in an instant. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands slid up your dress, grabbing your ass and pulling your body against his. God, was he hard already?

He bit down on your bottom lip before his tongue slid over it and you let him in with a moan, the smirk felt against your lips as his tongue pressed into your mouth. His hands slid over your hips, teasing the hem of your panties.

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since you walked in these doors for the first time,” he murmured. “You have no idea the restraint I’ve had to show. The things I’ve had to do to the thoughts of you when I get home just so I can control myself at work.”

You whimpered at his words, clit throbbing between your legs at his dirty mouth. Were you dreaming?

“Mr. Harrington…”

Steve groaned, pushing his hardened cock against you. “I told you, you don’t have to call me that. But fuck, I love it when you do.”

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open and revealing the empty hallway. Steve lifted you, and you squealed as your feet left the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you the short distance to his office, fumbling with the doorknob as he held you up.

Inside, he carried you to his huge mahogany desk. He used one arm to sweep everything but the computer off and onto the floor, sitting you on top of it. Your eyes were wide, head spinning at how bad he clearly wanted you as the papers all scattered to the ground, making a huge mess Steve didn’t seem to give a fuck about.

He hiked your short dress up around your waist, revealing your black lace panties and your (thankfully) freshly shaven legs. His hands slid up the smooth skin slowly, like he was savoring every inch of your body. He wore a ring on his right hand, the real gold like ice against your skin, making you shiver.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he remarked to himself. “And such a little minx. You know what those tiny little skirts do to me?” He leaned in closer, lips brushing your neck. “It’s against our dress code, you know. Couldn’t bring myself to say anything because I liked the view too much.”

He kissed your neck, running his tongue over the sensitive flesh as he moaned at the taste of you. He pulled back and quickly discarded his suit jacket, throwing it over the back of his desk chair. Your hands moved for his expensive leather belt, unbuckling it and then working on the button of his pants.

“I’ve wanted you so bad,” you admitted. Steve chuckled, the sound way sexier than you’d ever heard a laugh sound. He bit down on your neck and you moaned, tilting your head to the side. His hands caressed your body, now sliding up your sides until he was grabbing at your tits.

You got his pants undone just as he reached for your panties, sliding them down your legs. He placed your high heel-clad feet on the edge of the desk, spreading your legs wide for him before he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lowered his head to your pussy.

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue licking along your folds, devouring your wetness and groaning at the taste of you. “Fuck, taste so good. So sweet. Just like I imagined.”

He was so good. He worked his tongue expertly against your cunt, paying special attention to your clit as he flicked it with his tongue and wrapped his lips around it, sucking gently. You cried out, head tilting back as you leaned back on your arms. Steve grabbed tightly onto your hips, pulling you as close to his face as possible. His tongue teased your hole, nose brushing against your clit.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum, ohmygod-“

Steve slipped a long finger inside of you, curling it and pumping deep inside, and it was all it took to push you over the edge. You moaned loudly, not even thinking about if there could be a janitor or other staff member on the floor. Steve groaned as he worked you through your orgasm, drinking in every bit of slick you gave him.

When he stood to his full height again, you could see the wetness on his lips and chin, the sight absolutely obscene and so hot. He crashed his lips to yours again, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He moved back a little to push down his pants and briefs, long, hard cock springing free.

Jesus Christ.

It was such a pretty cock. Long and thick, just the slightest upward curve. There was a vein along the underside of it that you ached to run your tongue over. His tip was tinged red, precum glistening at his head. You longed to wrap your lips around him, to have a taste. His cock twitched as he watched you staring, and you reached for it.

But Steve already had other plans.

“Later,” he promised you, slotting his body between your thighs. You breathed out at the feeling of his hard dick pressed against your pussy, insistent and ready. “I need to be inside you, baby. I can’t wait another second.”

And with that he pushed inside of you, the stretch intense but incredible. You both moaned deeply as he sunk into your deliciously tight heat, it was everything he imagined and more.

“Mr. Harrington-“ you cried out a moan as he snapped his hips into you, filing you with the rest of his length abruptly. He was so deep his cock was pressed up against your cervix, you had never had a guy so deep inside you before.

Steve shuddered as the formal title accidentally slipped from your lips, holding still as he was buried to the hilt and trying desperately not to cum in 2 seconds. He had never in his life felt a pussy so perfect, so tight and wet and made for his cock. “Fuck…” he hissed.

“Please fuck me,” you begged, moving your hips, desperate for the friction of him moving inside you. Steve groaned again, face buried in your neck, but he slowly drew his hips backwards, pulling out until only his tip remained, then snapped them back into you.

He started a quick pace, like he lost all self control and now could only think about fucking you, losing himself in your perfect cunt. He held your hips as he rutted his cock into you, the noises of your wetness around his cock and his skin on yours filling the room. The sturdy desk groaned under the intensity of his movements.

“Feels so good,” he huffed, moving back to press his lips to yours again. “Perfect little pussy. So much better than I imagined at home with my cock in my hand.”

You moaned, because fuck, he had gotten himself off to the thought of you?

“You’re so big, Mr. Harrington,” you whined, pussy throbbing around him as he hit your g-spot with every deep thrust. Steve seemed to lose the tiny sliver of self control he was desperately holding onto at that, his pace turning brutal and his fingers digging bruises into your hips.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last,” he hissed. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long, and I’m not gonna last.”

“Want you to cum in me,” you begged. “I’m so close. I wanna feel you filling me up.”

“H-ohh,” Steve let out a mixture of a moan and a whimper, hips stuttering as he nearly came right then and there. “Cum around my cock, baby girl, and I’ll fill you up just like you want.”

He reached a hand between you and rubbed against your clit, that extra bit of stimulation all you needed to have you clenching around his cock over and over as you came, leaning back and your back arching off the desk as the intense feeling washed over you like a wave. “Mr. Harrington! Steve, I- oh god, oh fuck!”

He wasn’t long behind you, groaning your name loudly as his ropes of cum shot deep into you, balls tightening like he was giving you every drop he had. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He held you, both of you trembling as you came back down to earth. Finally Steve pulled out of you, some of his cum escaping and dripping onto his desk below you. Steve just about lost it right then.

He adjusted himself back into his pants, reaching for the tissue box on the floor to get you cleaned up. You blushed as he did, not used to such sweetness after a hookup. He handed you your panties and you gratefully pulled them back on, pulling your dress back down. You had a party to get back to, after all.

“That was…” You began, unsure what to say.

“Incredible,” Steve took the word from you. “But next time-“

“Next time?” You squeaked out, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

Steve smirked. “Next time, I’m going to take my time with you.”

[vaampiired]

No Time To Die

One Piece!Various x F!Gojo!Reader

Synopsis: In a world dominated by warring marines and pirates, a young girl, you, is born with extraordinary abilities causing the power balance of the world to tip and for unlikely friends to be made.

I have this book posted on another site and much longer, this is only the first chapter. Book is linked at the end. Please don’t steal!! ^^

From the moment you were born, everything was handed to you on a silver platter.  Your food, your homework, even your powers.  Yes, it’s no secret that you were born with immense strength.  Constantly being showered in praise about how you were the honored one.

The only known bearer of Six eyed Haki, also known as Limitless Haki.  On the same par, if not above Divine Haki.  Limitless Haki allows the user to manipulate and distort space, along with various other abilities including ‘infinity’.  The ability to slow down anything entering a certain radius of you.  Essentially stopping anything from touching you at all.

You we’re told you were untouchable.  The Honored One.  And you hadn’t even reached your teen years yet.  You truly were a miracle to the world..

Maybe this would be a dream come true for some, not for you.  You were isolated, unpunished, and miserable.  Every day was honing your powers, studying, and manners.  Though, they couldn’t exactly stop you when you wanted to go out.  The first time you ever ventured outside the walls of your mansion was when you were ten years old. 

“[Name]-Sama!” One of your attendants called as you walked through the gates. “You must’ve leave, I beg of you! You-“

A sharp glare from you was all it took to make her shut up. Everyone in the estate respected you.. or would fear be a better word?  After all, such a powerful ability was currently in the hands of a child.  A child who hated her life.

“Try and stop me.” You challenged, your gaze unwavering.  A chill ran down her spine, she felt as if you could see into the very depths of her soul.  In her mind, anyone could crumble under your glare.

She reluctantly backed off.  You knew she would.  No one in this house ever challenged you.  That’s what made it so boring, everything was just given to you.  You’d never felt a sense of accomplishment because your grades were what was expected and you never truly earned anything on your own.  You were sick of it.

”..Please be back soon, [Name]-Sama.. your studies are important-“ 

“I’ll be back tonight.  Don’t come looking for me.”

You turned around and continued walking out of the gate, completely disregarding her words.  No one in town seemed to even know who you were.. people kept walking on by, going about their daily lives.  Children your age were playing around, chasing each other and laughing.  Small shops were set up on the street selling various items from food to souvenirs to clothes. 

To you, everything was dark.  All you picked up on was everyone’s Haki signature, no matter how small.  Everyone had Haki, just very little and unable to use.  Courtesy of the Six eyed Haki.

You turned away from the sight of happy families going about their lives.  Children being free to be children with only the weight of what candy they would like resting on their shoulders.  Something deep within you yearned for that same life.  The life of a normal kid.  But, life is far from fair.  Dealing you a joker card that could be seen as a blessing or a curse depending on who you asked.

You stood at the edge of town, looking down at the harbor below.  Merchant ships were docked at every point they could be with men loading and offloading cargo.  

The sounds of idle chatter filled your ears and the smell of salt invaded your nose.  The cool breeze blowing off the ocean pushed your hair around.  It felt freeing.  You looked out over the ocean, as far as your eyes could see.  For once, it wasn’t all dark.  The view actually was bright and lively, refreshing.

“[Name]-Sama.  Please pay attention.” Your mentor gently chided.  Practically begging for you to give his lesson an ounce of your care.

”This is boring.” You grumbled with a small scowl.  Despite how you felt about everything, you knew you had to do it.  It was your responsibility.  The world was thrown out of balance the moment you were born and it was up to you to keep it in check..

So, begrudgingly, you stayed put and payed attention to the lesson.  Everything he taught was about how Haki worked.  Obviously, he couldn’t teach about your own Haki since only you possessed it.  There were no textbooks to aid him in teaching about your Haki.  He could only do his best in teaching the basics and hope you were clever enough to figure the rest out on your own.. much to his dismay.

-

“That’s excellent, [Name]-Sama!” Another mentor of yours clapped as you displayed your abilities in physical training.

”No one could possibly stand up to you!” She continued clapping and drowning you in compliments.  

You stared her down.  Your six eyes in full effect as you analyzed the small changes in her.  The temperature in her face changed slightly, signaling a changing emotion.  You Tsk’d.  She hated you.  That little change was detest.  Scorn.  Still, you didn’t say a word, going back to your training.  

What she personally thought of you didn’t matter.

-

“[Name]-Sama.. please, you must eat dinner.” An attendant urged you.  You simply scowled at the unappetizing meal on your plate.

It was no secret you were a very picky eater, all the chefs and attendants knew this.  Despite that, they continued trying to convince you to eat things you didn’t find appetizing.  Sure, this may not be a big deal in the big picture, but what 10 year old wants to eat ratatouille and caviar?

You pushed the plate away from you and stood up, leaving.  No one tried to stop you.  No one said a word as you exited the room with a displeased look plastered on your face..

You took a deep breath of the salty air.  Seagulls called from above as they flew around the ships, stealing scraps of food from unsuspecting workers.

You made your way down the stairs that led to the harbor.  Each step was a slightly different height, it didn’t surprise you much since it was carved in stone.  You reached the docks and looked up in awe of the massive ships.  The view from your previous position didn’t do Justice to just how massive the boats were.  Why is this the first time you’ve ever seen this..?

You looked down as you sensed something approach.  A black cat.  It walked between your legs and rubbed on you with a small purr.  You kneeled down and pet it, causing the small animal to purr louder.  After a minute of this, the cat wandered off, it just came and went.  How weird, were all cats like that?

You watched as the cat walked up a ramp into one of the ships and disappeared.  Having nothing else you wanted to check out, you followed the cat up the ramp and into the ship.  It wandered up to the main deck and jumped up on some cargo, you followed in its footsteps.  It felt weird for you to not have to be proper.. but good at the same time.

It meowed and jumped up on top of the cabin, you jumped up after it.  It was a game! You had to catch the cat.  Eventually, the cat took off running, prompting you to do the same.  It jumped off the railing and back into the dock and continuing to run.  You followed close behind, jumping off the railing and landing on the dock before giving chase to the small feline.

The cat jumped onto a box a man was carrying, causing him to lose balance for a moment.  Then you also used the box as a stepping stone and the poor man fell over.  

“Stupid kids—“ He growled as he hit the ground, glaring at your back.

The cat was running all the way to the end of the harbor with no intentions of stopping.  Believe it or not, this was your first experience with a cat.  Within your family’s estate there were no pets.  The most you saw were birds and squirrels.  You silently chased after the cat as it reached the end of the dock.  It stopped and rubbed on your legs again as if it was fully aware you weren’t going to hurt it.

It walks between your legs and hops onto a small boat.. what an odd design.  The actual hull, if you could call it that, resembled a black coffin.  It had a single mast that looked like a massive sword with black sails attached.  

The cat sat down on the chair right in the center of the boat and curled up.  Something about this ship said not to touch it.  So obviously, you touched it.  Hopping onto the boat to pet the cat as it slept.

Your attention was drawn when you picked up on the strongest Haki you’d ever felt coming up behind you.  Whoever was approaching made it very clear that they were on another level.  Sure, you had Haki that no one else in the world had but you were still just a kid.  Anyone with more experience would obviously have an advantage and at the moment… the gap in skill was obvious, even to you who was raised being told she was the strongest.

You whipped your head around to pinpoint where the Haki was coming from and zoned in on a man.  Sharp golden eyes sharp as a blade, a long black coat, and a large sword on his back much like the mast on this boat.  What were the chances that this was his boat?  The closer he got the more that probably solidified.  Who was this man?

He stopped on the dock next to his boat, looking from you to the cat you were petting.  You felt.. small.. under his gaze.  Like you weren’t anything more than an insect to him.  That wasn’t something you were used to.  For a moment that seemed to drag on for ages he didn’t say a word.

”Child, what are you doing?” He broke the silence with a simple question.

”..Petting a cat.” You pushed down your nervousness to answer as you stepped out of the boat.  Shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

“I left for the day.” You kicked a rock.  It wasn’t a lie, and you didn’t wanna say you ran away because you would be going back.

”And you decided to follow a cat on a strangers boat?” He asked with an ever so slight undertone of judgment.  

You nodded.  Your pride prevented you from apologizing to him for jumping on his boat just to pet a cat.  You never tore your eyes away from his as you spoke, trying to look unfazed by his presence.  You had yet to learn who he was, so..

”Who are you?” 

He took a moment to answer.  Looking down at this odd little girl who looked like she held the universe in her eyes. An odd sense of kinship with the small little being in front of him arose.  Why? He doesn’t quite know himself.  But he knows you’re not an ordinary child.

”Dracule Mihawk.” He paused.  “You?”

”[Name] [Lastname].” 

[Lastname].. he’s heard that somewhere before.  Between the hushed whispers of marines and fearful talk among pirates.  The name most assumed was nothing more than an old wives tale made up to scare people.  He couldn’t resist asking.

”Does the phrase ‘Six Eyes’ mean anything to you?” 

Your brow creased by a hair and that was all he needed.  The rumors were true, the legend and the mystery.  The [Lastname] clan wasn’t just some old tale from the grand line, they were real.  And it seemed you were a daughter of it.  Fascinating.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked a bit defensively.  Admittedly, you had little to no experience with people outside of those within your estate, so a situation like this was foreign territory for you.  

“Your surname has quite a reputation.” He stated as he sat down on the chair the cat formerly sat on.  It had ran off when he arrived.  “I’m actually quite curious about the six eyes, would you care to indulge me?”

You found yourself wanting to talk about your ability.  Wanting for some form of validation from him.  Why though?? You get plenty of praise from the attendants and mentors at home.  The reason why was because he was strong.  You could tell from the moment you sensed him that he was on a whole other level.  No one back home was strong in your eyes.  This craving to be acknowledged by someone stronger than yourself grew and grew, causing you to eventually take a seat in front of him and start telling of what the six eyes are.

He listened intently as you explained how it worked.  So much power at such a young age.  No wonder your family was legendary.  His face remained stoic throughout your explanation with subtle changes every now and then when you told him something particularly interesting.

“And that’s how the six eyes work.” You finish, excitedly waiting for what his reply would be.  Was he impressed? Did he think you were cool? Why were you all of a sudden so desperate… maybe the lack of parental figures played a part..

“Enthralling.  You can do so much with Haki at such a young age.  How old are you, child?”

”Ten!” You answered immediately.

Ten years old.. was he even near that level at that age? He couldn’t be sure.  What he did know was that the child in front of him was extraordinary.

”And how have you learned to use these abilities?” He assumed you must have a very skilled teacher in order to develop this much.  

“I have a few mentors.  They just taught me the basics, that’s all.” 

That genuinely shocked the man, though he didn’t show it.  This much power and only having been taught the basics? You were truly a gifted child.  Something in him was inclined to… help..? To train you.  To make you even better than you were.  An out of place emotion for the older man.

So, he took you under his wing.

Over the next few days he stayed docked on your island to train you.  Your attendants noticed they you often disappeared before sunrise and came back after sunset.  Your new training was much more exhilarating.  More on your level! You’d already long since mastered the basics and to finally be trained by someone you viewed as strong was the best training you could ask for.  

Just in those few short days, your power increased.  You could keep infinity up for longer, your stamina increased, and your power output more than doubled.  All because your mentor had real experience and talent.  What a difference that made.  He’d even gotten you a pair of darkened sunglasses when you complained about your eyes making your head hurt.  Admittedly, it helped.

You’d learned that Mihawk was something called a Warlord, meaning he had to leave soon.  He never stayed in one place for too long.  Your makeshift training camp was coming to a close and strangely, you didn’t want it to end.  You’d finally met someone you could actually learn from.  On your end, the farewell was sad.  It was sad on his end too only he kept his stoic facade up.

He patted your head as he boarded his ship during the early morning hours.

”Keep growing, [Name].  I’ve no doubts you’ll become even stronger.  Impress me.” He encouraged as he pushed his boat away from the dock.  With your pride on the line, you tried so hard not to be emotional.  To be strong like he taught you to be.  It’s strange how affected you’d become after only a few days.  Were your daddy issues that bad??

After a few minutes of watching his ship get smaller and smaller, you broke.

”Please, stay safe!” You yelled at the top of your lungs.

He was too far for even your six eyes to see his face clearly, but he smiled.  You’d grown on him quite a lot over the past through days, and he silently prayed for your safety as well.

His ship got smaller and smaller, until you could no longer sense his presence on the horizon.  You stood there for a long while after he departed, staring at where the sky meets the sea.  That became your motivation.  To grow even stronger and surpass him, then to meet again and show him how much you’ve grown.

You couldn’t wait for that day to come.  For the day you could finally say with certainty that you’re the strongest.

Years past, you trained harder and harder.  Your mentors finally let you venture beyond the island, namely, to the marine headquarters.  Such a powerful woman should obviously be working on the side of good!

The higher ups in the marines always had their eyes on the [Lastname] clan.  Only the children directly descended from the main branch of it could inherit the Six Eyed Haki.  They wanted to make you an admiral.. after proper navy training of course.  Sengoku himself expressed his desire to be on good terms with you.  You were treated as an adult despite only being 17.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had no desire to become an admiral or a marine at all.  Mihawk was never an admiral.  Speaking of, you obviously asked about the man when you met Sengoku.  Along with the little lie that you were just curious about the strongest swordsman in the world and nothing more.  You still had your sunglasses gifted by Mihawk.  An item precious to you now, serving as a reminder of your goal.

“I do hope you’ll give due consideration to our proposal.” Sengoku remarked as you walked side by side down the halls of the Marineford building.  

“I will.  After all, with just the admirals you have now it must be hard keeping pirates in check.” You smirked.  Oh, and did you mention you’d gotten a heck of a lot more cocky? 

Sengoku had to bite back a scowl.  Cocky brat.

“You can.. put it that way.” He gritted.  With great power comes great arrogance.  And you were a perfect example of that fact.

”I hope you enjoyed your time here.  As I said, please consider our offer carefully.” He offered his hand to shake to which you begrudgingly took.

”Yeah, sure.” You promptly pulled your hand away and shoved it into your pocket.  “Cya.”

Exiting the building and heading down to the ship your clan owned with a small scowl on your face, you thought about how you would even go about your plan.  You couldn’t exactly continue to get stronger while staying on your island all by your lonesome.. and your attendants but they weren’t important.

You walked up the ramp and stepped onto the main deck of the ship, turning and heading to your cabin.  Ignoring the various workers looking your way as you shut the door.

The ship rocked slowly as it departed from the dock and back out into The Tarai Current.  You were temporarily granted special permission to use this current despite not being a navy vessel due to your, Ahem, power status.  And because there was really no other way to reach Marineford.

You plopped down on your couch next to the window and looked out it absentmindedly.  Your mind going back to formulating a plan on how to get stronger.  You didn’t want to join the marines, that was too boring.  And you didn’t exactly care for the thought of being ordered around all the time..

As your eyes drifted across the horizon you spotted something that made a light go off in your head.  A pirate ship.  You smirked.  What about a pirate? What was his name? Gold Roger? The stories made him out to be crazy strong.  And all the Warlords were pirates hired by the government.  And so, your plan was made.  You were gonna be a pirate.

—

Link to Story

[yunazxxx]

BUT I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOU — L.R

plot is kind of based off of fear street 78’

genre? : smut, with a murder and obsession plot

now playing : I’m so crazy for youuu </3 by rebzyyx

this content contains the following : obsessive, possessive, psychotic!lara (obviously), killing mention, kind of cheating but not so much?, kinda angst, smut warning, blood mention, g!p lara, heavy etc warning.

author chats?: okay don’t look at me like that.. i have other fics to finish but!! i lit rewatched this movie a while ago and wanted to make this so badly like <///3 so here we are. — certain parts of this is corny as SHITTTTTTT. but i’m not rewriting this for a while. — daniela is cindy… (im sorry but nor sorry…)

word count? : 4.0k

—

the day began as normal as you'd expect a day at camp to go, you decided to go on a walk along the campsite, talking with your friends.

while they walked along the trail, lara and daniela (in place of cindy) came from the dining hall and were talking about god knows what.

you didn't bother to pay them any mind, or well “them" as a whole, but you would sometimes pay lara a little mind.

but of course, it wouldn't be anything more than just the basic student and counselor relationship. they got along fairly well, like she did with all of the campers.

today just, felt, different though. it was like the atmosphere was off, in all honesty it felt like something was bound to happen.

you continued on walking though, and your friends disbursed into their own cabins while you walked to yours.

you heaved a heavy sigh before sitting on your bed, and lying back first. you would run your fingers through your hair, and and close your eyes.

you couldn't really change where your mind was going, in fact, you were only thinking about, lara? it felt weird, to say the complete least. you weren’t so cool with daniela, but you two also weren't on the worst terms.

you could really only sigh, if it wasn't the issue that they had with being camper and counselor, then it was definitely the relationship.

you always tried your best to just hide it but almost always having to be around her made you fall in love with her more, but were you to blame?

i mean, she was innocent, caring, really loving and kind. if you were to be honest with everyone, including yourself, you would get jealous seeing daniela and her hold hands as often as they did.

yeah, she wasn't yours, not yet at least, but to see her with another girl, fuck you hated it so much. you would sometimes would end up stumbling across her and dani while they kissed, but you would walk off and pretend like nothing happened.

they never knew though, they didn't ever mention it. you would always end up punching a wall though, never being able to come up to lara and tell her how you really felt.

you was easily caught up in your thoughts of lara, not hearing the door being knocked on. the quiet knocking quickly became louder and snapped the girl out of it.

you got off of your bed and opened the door, and speak of the fucking devil, "heyy! we missed you today in the dining hall, what happened?" lara asked you.

you had an insane impulse to just pull her into a kiss, but she was also holding direct eye contact which would've made it much more enjoyable —

but to say what didn't need to be said was that you didn't go through with kissing her but instead came up with some random excuse as to why.

and she, of course, bought it because, why would she not? you mentioned having an upset stomach, so she offered to go and get you some medicine and you gladly accepted.

something that was an important mention was that you loved seeing her run, but it was more than just loving her form but you genuinely enjoyed watching her run, you found it attractive, for some reason.

not long later she did return with the medicine, also with a few other items for you. she took some of the medicine while she demonstrated how to use it, and would also give you some water.

you would, of course, thank lara and she would get up to leave, and you let her go but it seemed once the door closed you were completely losing your mind.

you wanted, no, needed lara as yours. you swore to do everything in your power to make that possible and finally have what you deserved, or felt you did.

but it wasn't like a normal crush, one you’ve already gone through the getting to know them, already gone through the getting closer phase, basically every single phase that was required, you and lara had already done it.

but it wasn't like she could be alone with you for more than two minutes because why would a counselor need more than that much time with a student alone, so you really never had the chance to ever catch her because if she wasn't attending to her duties around the capmus, then her bitch of a girlfriend daniela had her and her attention.

you never could wrap your head around what lara saw in the latina, she was so, prissy, it was annoying. they weren't really anything alike, so how they made thngs work was beyond you, but you also didn't really give a flying fuck bevause you were going to make lara yours however you really had to.

it was't like the signs weren't there, it was obvious she felt the same, the way she would smile at you, the way she would talk to you, the way she would teat you and help you, how gentle she was with you.

she was as gentle as one would be with a fresh wet painting, it made you feel special but you always knew that she was just like that. as previously stated, she was a soft kind girl.

she was the innocent, "lara raj" after all. she was the heartthrob amongst the camp. and daniela fucking avanzini was the girl to get her first.

if we were to be honest, and let the reader be honest with herself for once, she didn't really care as heavily at first because she was a taken woman after all and she respected daniela at the time, and same for lara, so she wouldnt even graze the thought of doing such a thing.

but it just seemed one day, things weren't really the same, she would watch daniela and the same feeling of respect for her superior and admiration turned to straight jealousy and envy. she hated daniela, wanted her gone to be honest. but, "gone" is the nicest thing we could say she wanted to happen to the blonde.

but in somewhat of a cliche fashion, you found yourself alone with lara. something that was decently normal between the two was that they may run into each other randomly during the day and you would come up with any excuse in the book why you might need lara to stay there for a small while longer but somene would either walk in or you would freeze up so badly that you was unable to speak or even form words together to let lara know you liked her.

the second you would get close to her, your heartbeat and breathing would pick up, something you can always recall was when she helped wake you back up with cpr after you passed out.

the world felt like it was slowing down when you opened your eyes, seeing her looking at you with that same worried expression that she has now.

"y/n?" she said, throwing you out of your daze, "what's going on? why are you in here?" the indian woman asked, her eyebrow raising. your eyes quickly scanned over her, her outift and her entire demeanor, feeling your brain cloud while you felt weaker in your knees by the second. "oh, nothing jus uhh.." your eyes began to dart across the room, trying to find something to say to evade the conversation but once you finally looked back at lara, her brown orbs were looking back into yours.

but no words were spoken, the room fell completely silent. you silently hoped that someone would walk in and ruin this slightly awkward vibe but no one came to your rescue. lara looked away from you for a second, but looked back at you. she broke the silence, once gain asking why you were here and you told the truth. you didn't really have a reason to be inside of that room with her but they always had the most privacy there compared to anywhere else.

something in your head kept yelling, telling you to tell him now before it was "too late" whatever that meant. "lara?" you called for her, and she looked at you, "yea?" she asked, and you took a slow breath. she looked at you , and she placed her hand on yours.

you looked down at your hands, then back up at her, and her eyes were softy looking into yours and she nodded to you, reassuring you that it was okay to speak, and that you did. "i don't know how i can say this, it's hard." you said, your eyes quickly looking away from the black haired woman in front of you.

"take a breath, take your time", she smiled to you, “we have all the time in world" she said, her voice finishing off so gently. you could feel yourself melting to her touch and voice, but you knew you had to say something. "uhm. okay, see, i like you" you said, but as you finished your sentence your voice got lower to the point lara couldn't hear you.

"what was that?" she softly asked, her head tilting down with hers. she used her free hand to lift your head up to look at her.

“you can say it" she smled, god she looks so stupid. you looked into her eyes, "i like you, like i'm in love with you" you said, but quickly your speech picked up, "but i know it's wrong, you're already in a relationship and you're a consoler while i’m a camper, and you have-" she cut you off, kissing you.

her hand cupped your cheek, as their eyes closed at the same time, their lips slowly moving in sync. after a small while, they broke apart, "lara..” you exhaled against her lips after the kiss broke, and she smiled, "yes?" she answered. you were in pure shock, not being able to process what happened.

"i like you too, you know?" she said it, but so casually. "what?" you couldn't register anyhting that was happening. "wait, you like me?" she was just, surprised.

“yes! god, i could never tell you because of the slight worry you didn't feel the same" she said, keeping that same stupid smile on her face. they decided to say the magic words, "lara will you be my girlfriend?", "as long as you'll be my girlfriend" you just smiled, basking in this moment with lara.

it wasn't like something was off either, not like this was a dare or a prank to be played on you, she was being genuine. you sighed, finally feeling at peace to get that off of your chest. lara saw how late it was, knowing you should've been asleep a long time ago, so after they bided their goodbyes she went to hers and daniela’s shared dorm/cabin.

she locked the door, seeing the she was sleeping peacefully, something in her kept saying “don't have to do it, you shouldnt do it. it isn't worth it.” but it is. she walked her way to her bags, grabbing something sharp, specifically a knife with a blade of 12 inches.

the more closer she got to actally doing it, her brain screamed louder not to, but she didn't care. you see, somethig about lara is that she was definetly a character. she never really was what everyone would describe her as. of course, that was the facade she began to go by but the real lara raj wasn't all much of a saint, she didn't have good history with certain things, daniela being one of them but due to them having that dumbass "perfect couple" title, she ws forced to keep up the soft girl look, or “girl next door”.

the more she thought about how she had to hide the way he actual was and felt ever since they gaind that title, she would get more and more mad now standing over daniela, gripping the handle tighter than before. she raied the blade over her head, planning how she’s gonna through with this but deciding that this would be too messy.

so she carefull draged the sleeping girl into the bathroom, placing her in the bathtub, "damn, heavy sleeper huh?" she said, and chuckle to herself. this wasn't such a lara thing though, for one she would barely ever swear, two cause harm to someone, again she was known as someone who couldn't even harm a fly.

she held the knife again, this time pulling daniela’s face back and lining the blade with her throat. she had the knives pre sharpened before any of this, she didn't care how she had to do it, she was getting with y/n (you).

the girl didn't need any prep, and lined the blade back up, pressing her hand against her mouth as tightly as she physically could as she sliced the blade across her throat. the blood began to slowly fall down, but she did it again to ensure she was dead.

she then stabbed the blade into daniela’s throat before dragging it down through her chest, watching as the blonde woman’s blood began to stain the pajamas and their bathtub.

the redhead only continued, practically mutilating the sleeping woman’s body before coming to her senses and moved her hand off of her, looking at her handy work and smiling to herself, loving how she looked all bloodied up. she smiled watching the blood spill from her neck and the huge gash in her body, but would soon get bored of it, she would stab the knife directly into the other side of her chest, and went to wash her hands.

she changed her clothes, and went to sleep that night like nothing ever happened, which would be the case for so many days. she would live her life like nothing, ever happened, anytime someone would ask about daniela and/or her where abouts she’d would lie and say she went home early or whatever.

and what makes it better is that she got away with it for so long, she was successful until the smell began to stink up her room, she couldnt even be in there, she went to the bathroom and noticed that her body began decaying in the bathtub.

and so she decided that same night she would hide her body, she went and grabbed some bags along with rope and a shovel. it was dark out, meaning she'd need a flashlight, which always, never works out for anyone trying to get rid of a body this late.

she would contiue her stroll to the storage room, and walked inside in seach for a flashlight, which she'd find along with getting a heart attack from you randomly appearing behind her. she slightly jumped but didn't scream, "why are you in here?" she first asked, "how are you in here?" she asked another question to follow and you answered her.

"door was slightly cracked and when i walked past your room, it had a really bad scent to it" you said, hinting at the obvious stench of rotting flesh that filled her place of residence. you would just look at her, while she just looked back at you.

she sighed, "let's just say something got into my room and rotted before i was able to realize" she said, but you already knew what that something might be. it had been days since anyone had last seen daniela, and you, yourself hasn't done ayting to her so she knew it was lara’s doing but instead of it scaring you, or running you away, you instead wanted her so much more now.

"let me help get rid of it" you said, but lara shook her head, "no i don't think you should get involved" she said, grabbing the things that were needed before making her way to the door. and doing everything but listening to lara, you followed behind her and began to rapidly ask to be with her while she gets rid of the body.

it didn't take much longer before she gave in and allowed you to go along with her. she laid the body on the gound, slaminng it down due to how heavy it was and began removing the teeth fom the body. "why do you have to take her teeth out, eugh" you asked while turning away, gagging at the sight. “dental records, baby" she replied and then began to dig a shallow grave for her.

"how did you, do it?" you asked while they walked off, did you really care though? to say the least, no. but there was something about seeing her a sweaty mess while carrying the shovel while you two walked back that just made you feel insane.

"a simple slice to the throat, nothing too extravagant." she said casually, but was lying. your mouth was agape, “you slit her throat?" you asked, and she nodded.

you couldn't believe that lara, the camp’s virgin innocent princess, would murder someone, especially so off rip.

her modus operandi? love, what else would it had been? you were genuinely unable to wrap you head around the fact that she chose such an executon style, it was, attractive to you, for some reason. you loved that she killed for you, that she got rid of the bitch that you hated so much.

they didn't stop at the storage cloet to put away the stuff, instead they just took it wih them inside of lara’s place. she left all of her windows open to hopefully be rid of the stench that has now taken over her entier home.

she walked inside first, alerting you of the smell before opening the door and she went straight to the bathrom and began cleaning it.

she didn't use a lot of bleach, the smell was really obvious and intoxicationg so lara decided to use other other things to ensure evey last blood stain was cleaned.

it went as well as you'd expect any cleain proces to go, she even drained her of majority of her blood before she began to decay just incase the blood became an issue.

after she finshed cleaning the blood, she when and grabbed her a pair of clean clothes to wear and anything she’s worn in between the day daniela died until now were all getting burned.

while she was getting cleaned up, you was feeling a little silly and decided to go inside of the shower with her. she didn't hear your footsteps but felt when you got inside of the shower with her.

you didn’t move or do anything but instead stood there, partially hoping she didn't notice you but secretly hoping she did. she continued to shower like it was nothing though, but when she turned around to face you, she didn't see your face automatically and instead saw your head.

"darlin, look, my eyes are up here" she said and your eyes followed along her body, noticing her defined abs and just how hot she looked with wet hair. she held the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss, really there was no need for words, the tension was so thick it made it all so obvious.

you couldnt help but get so turned on during this kiss, you were already in love with the way her lips would move against hers, how soft but passionate she was with it, god it all drove you so crazy. you would moan into the kiss, and start pressing your wet naked body against hers, feeling her semi-hard cock against your clit.

lara broke apart from the kiss, you whining at the loss of contact but was quickly met with something better. she asked you to open your legs a bit, sliding her cock between your thighs. she held your hips and slowly thrusted her hips, you moaned lowly, you both held eye contact while she sped her hips up.

the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room, the water spilled down your bodies. her grip on your waist got stronger while she sped up, causing her to whimper a little while your moans quickly picked up.

the need for each other grew more and more by the second, so you both agreed fuck the shower and she brought you to her bed.

she laid you down on the bed, and began attacking and kissing at your neck. she left nice hickeys on you, your hands traveled down her body and you reached for her cock, lining her up with your entrance. she slowly pushed herself inside of you, she filled you up so slowly but fuck she had length on her.

she dragged her cock out of your cunt, before slamming back inside, she held your hips down and proceeded to slam down inside of you.

she fixed herself, sitting up completly and held your hips and began fucking into you. your moans picked back up, you were much louder than before. she kept with this pace, not speeding up but not slowing down either. she moved her hands along your body and contied thrusting inside of you, her hand stopped at your neck while she gently choked you.

the indian use used her free hand to began rubbing your clit while she thrusted. she changed their positions, now she was under you and lowering you down on her cock.

she slid back inside with ease, and grounded her feet on the bed before thrusting into your cunt. her hands began grabbing at your breast and playing with them, taking the other into her mouth.

"mmth fuck~ cumming" you moaned and unravels on her shaft, your cum coating her cock completely causing making it easier for her to slide in and out.

her cock began to twitch inside your warm cunt, the sound of your moans echoing throughout, along with her own and your wet skin hitting each other. due to the grip you had on her cock, she didn't care for anything.

she threw you back under her and forced all of herself inside of her, she put both of her hands on your neck and continued with a brutal pace, the need for each other continued to grow more by the second.

she watched as you slowly began to gasp for air, then she let go, focusing her hands elsewhere while you came once again.

she chuckled at the scene under her, seeing how much of mess you were but loving how pretty you looked while cumming on her cock.

she changed their positions again, this time making the girl sit on her cock, she held her hips and slowly guided her while rocking them.

you didn't know what to do with your hands, you loved being used by lara as a fuck toy but god you were mindless about where to place your hands.

she would hold your waist harder and proceed to slam you down in such an uneven rhythm it told you that she was close. she began thrusting up inside of you and you could feel how deep her cock was now, the bulge being seen through your abdomen was genuinely mind boggling to you.

once agains you came undone on her cock, but directly after your orgasm it followed lara’s and she slammed down for the final time before the grasp on your hips became tighter as she filled you up.

"god you sound so so pretty when you cum" lara panted out, still slowly rocking her hips inside of your tired body. you nodded weakly, not really being able to speak by this point, lara basically fucked your brains out.

she gently pulled herself out, and reached to get you a shirt. she slid on her boxers and quickly cuddled you, and kissed your forehead. they pressed their foreheads together while they attempted to catch their breath.

lara would slightly move her head to kiss you cheeks, her arms wrapping around your body, which prompted you to turn around and lay down to face the opposite on her but being directly against her chest.

she pulled you as close as your bodies would go, her arms wrapped around you gently. she pulled the covers over you, kissing your shoulder and neck gently. "i love you" she softly whispered against your sleeping figure, and a smile crept on her face.

[uswe]

Some of what they’re doing is also just capping indirect costs. Which, sure, sounds good, sounds efficient. But at universities, that’s tuition for students working on it, plus admin support. For my job, it’s the offices, a lot of admin, the purchase and then postage for shipping me a yubikey so we can have more secure access to a system, and contributing to stuff like ‘having health insurance’ and the other things that attract people to do the actual work.

And I really don’t think I can emphasize enough how important admin is. When we had a big two day on site meeting to hash out a bunch of stuff it was catered. The person setting up details with facilities asked about allergies, so I told her I was allergic to citrus. Y’all. You know how mornings you’ll typically get coffee, hot water, one or two kinds of juice? It was never orange juice. The bowls of whole fruit never included oranges. None of the lunch options had citrus. It wasn’t just I had safe options, it was everything was safe. That’s better than I get at a lot of family dinners.

And, in context of actually doing the work: having sufficient (excellent) admin staff meant that not only was I fully functional for the whole meeting but that I wasn’t sneezing operatically and interrupting everyone else’s ability to work.

Apparently, Aaron Fullerton's tweet wasn't even satire. Trump supporters actually, literally think like that.