#its debatable who had “worse things” happen to them

[dallasstarsdyke]

something i was thinking about on stand yesterday.. danganronpa shsl lifeguard who tries to save a dying person they find, bonus points if they dont come clean about it at first because they think they actually killed that person with their efforts

[whereserpentswalk]

Thinking about how well Worm handles disability, especially compared to most other things in its genre. The way lifelong injuries are treated as a normal part of being a cape. The fact that Taylor is blind for awhile and it's not treated as a tragedy, and how when it's healed by scapegoat it's not treated as some sort of redemptive miracle, but just a thing that happened. Defiant's wounds still being something that effects him even though he has tinker magitech. Kid Wind having adhd and being helped by meds but then having to go off them due to side effects. Taylor seeing paralysis as a fate worse then death being seen as a her thing and not an objective fact (and probably being from trauma during the leviathan fight). Genesis's disability being something the people around her care about a lot more then her. Labyrinth and Bitch both being basically neurodivergent from their powers (labyrinth being essentially high support needs, and Bitch being essentially low support needs) with both being able to live fulfilling lives with people who care about them (also that scene with someone trying to baby talk Bitch near the end really hit home for me).

Also, Dragon, despite not being literally disabled is a very good disability allegory. People who don't know she's a machine often think she's disabled. The way her father put so many constraints on her because he didn't trust her, because of what she was. The way so many human characters see her right to live as something up for debate. The way Saint calls Defiant's attraction to her a fetish because he can only comprehend someone loving her as being some strange abnormality. The fact that teacher thinks it's ok to put constrains on her basically because he physically can. Defiant and her being intimate by testing how well they can feel sensations. Even just the way Saint talks about her not being able to truly feel emotion, but saying she tricked herself into doing so, is reminiscent of how some people talk about people with Cluster B disorders. And beyond that, the fact that all of the people who dehumanize her are framed as unquestionably in the wrong. Hell, she had a trigger event so even the eldritch horrors affirm her personhood.

I realize the discussion of Dragon was longer then I planned. But yeah, worm has much better disability rep then anything else I've seen in the superhero genre (probably because it's written by a disabled author).

Also I'm pretty sure you have to be neurodivergent to read a 1,672,617 word long internet book about the sociopolitical ramifications of superpowers. /j

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever to write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn��t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @floralemi12 @laviatia-blog @reggieswriter @hazzarules @spencerreidsglasses @notarobotipromise @gghostwriter @taygrls @powerline-valley @october-baby25 @forevermorepassionate

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[icharchivist]

The thing that keeps killing me about the Veil discourse and the fact Solas was planning on destroying the world by removing the Veil is that, especially after Veilguard, we have the confirmation that inaction would have been worse.

It's made very clear in DAI and Trespasser especially that the Veil is failing. It's becoming thinner in thinner. Each Blight's bloodshed are so terrible that some places have a Veil that never recovered. There are already hole in the veil in DAO for the Warden to try to fix in places where the Veil has been torn into pieces (Soldier's Peak and the Blackmarshes especially). And Arlathan and Sundermont where also regions that were said to have had the Veil permanently sundered because of the terrible horrors that happened then.

Solas acts panicked when he learns the Wardens are trying to kill the last archdemons saying it will make the situation worse, and for years I argued that the archdemons are probably seals that held the Veil in place and if all of them were killed, it will collapse. At the time i thought it was an elaborated plan by the Evanuris - i didn't think there was a bond between them unless it was true the Old Gods were the Forgotten ones, but that by using the Blight from the Fade the Evanuris were trying to affect those seals to thin the Veil and either a Blight will punch a hole in it, or once all the archdemons will be dead they will be freed.

This isn't the conclusion Veilguard took but i still had a point where it mattered the most: The Archdemons' lives were tied to [the Evanuris who's lives were tied to] the Veil and if all of them died [and killed the Evanuris linked to them by doing so while separated from their respective Evanuris, as evidenced by there being only 2 Evanuris left in Veilguard], the Veil would collapse.

When Solas awoke, it was barely ten years after the 5th Blight. He didn't even know until then that the Blight had leaked from the the prison he had made.

Corypheus acted up on the Wardens' mind BEFORE Solas got involved with him. We know that from Legacy since it's when it started for Corypheus (and Solas supposedly awoke a bit before Mark of the Assassin according to the webseries Redemption).

Corypheus was affected by the Blight he got from the Evanuris, and wanted to do anything he could to tear down the Veil to get to the Black City.

If Solas hadn't offered his orb to Corypheus, if he had stayed in slumber even, The Wardens may have killed the two last archdemons in panic. Or, and that even if Solas gave up on his goal in Inquisition, eventually centuries down the line the two last blights would have happened and the Veil would have collapsed.

There is no scenario in which Solas doesn't get involved that doesn't end with "The Veil falls down and the Blight locked in the Fade is unleashed on Thedas".

Solas' plan is specifically to take down the Veil in a way that doesn't unleash the Blight and the Last of the Evanuris. He will try to salvage as much as he can doing so but that's the core of it.

Leaving aside all the others dilemma about the People, about the Spirits, about Slavery, about everything that has motivated Solas on top of it all: IF Solas didn't act, the Veil would have collapsed on its own and the world would have ended in a way worse way.

We can debate forever about how deadly Solas' plan would have actually been. In Veilguard he says a few thousands of people would have died because he took precaution. I still believe one of the major reasons people would have died are tied to the way Curing Tranquility Also Leave People Who Were Tranquil In a Vulnerable State That Easily Get Them Killed and it would have been the same for people to reconnect so deeply to the Fade (re why Solas asks Cassandra if she thinks it's worth it to still cure the Tranquils and why it mattered).

We can also argue whether this was the only possible thing that could be done.

But like one thing is certain: even if Solas killed absolutely everyone except the elves by collapsing the Veil, it would still be less damage than if the Veil just collapsed on its own. Which would have happened sooner than later. It wasn't an IF. it was an WHEN.

The "Elven God's blood can keep the Veil up and fully repair it" was a full cope out that makes genuinely No Sense (they were NEVER gods to start with, and personally the reason i liked the Archdemons to be the seals more than the Evanuris was bc of what Yavana says in the comics about the dragons being the blood of the world, something much, much bigger than the elves ever were) just to punish Solas anyway.

But the fact people still act like Solas taking down the Veil was him planning the End of the World and It's Bad are just not interrogating themselves on what the Veil is doing.

It was either a controlled apocalypse that will avoid as much damage as possible, or one that will happen at random and will leave no possible chances of salvation.

Just letting the world end by inaction isn't exactly any better than trying to do something.

It's somehow the same logic as Rook and Varric never being blamed for unleashing the final blights. Accidentally triggering the end of the world, or just knowingly letting it happen are fine, but trying to actually do control damage is bad actually.

The Alternative should have been to find another path. One Solas was too prideful, too blind to newer ways, too isolated to have considered himself. One that could remove the Veil without this amount of destruction. Not to reinforce the Veil all together.

And i just think it's unfair to look at Solas plan of destroying the world as the basis to judge he's a bad person without ACKNOWLEDGING what the options actually are. Not even in term to defend Solas, but in term of, do you understand what's at stake????

[genderqueerdykes]

The whole "transandrophobia debate" is so tiring. I've been here long enough to have seen people not just say the same exact shit about aromantic and ace people, or even bi people, but transmen and mascs themselves. Like, not only have we figuratively been here, with people using the exact same talking points against aros, aces, bis, nonbinary people, literally just people using neopronouns, etc. etc. but we've also LITERALLY been here before.

It's especially frustrating because it was only a few years back that conversations finally opened up to address the damage people like Calvin Garrah and Blair White have done internally to the trans community; and now we get to log onto tumblr-dot-com and watch people get called "whiny afab trans people" and "they-fab" AGAIN.

I'm just so tired of people who do not know queer history, especially not the shit that has happened on this website alone in the past 15 years, picking a new letter of the acronym that is acceptable to bully, walking into the tags that group made for themselves to discuss their own issues, and telling them they're wrong and disgusting for "taking up space" in the queer community.

huge round of applause for this ask, seriously. thank you so fucking much. thank you for taking the time to write this up and send it. i hope you're having a wonderful day. sorry for the long ass text dump, but you brought up so many good points that i want to touch on

Like, not only have we figuratively been here, with people using the exact same talking points against aros, aces, bis, nonbinary people, literally just people using neopronouns, etc. etc. but we've also LITERALLY been here before.

EXACTLY this. it's literally the exact. same. bullshit. that people have pulled in the past. i cannot stress enough about how the anti transmasc rhetoric right now is exactly like the anti ace and anti aro bullshit we had going on 5 - 10 years ago. it was seriously bad and it's the exact same as this is now. people were so obsessed with hating aromantics and asexuals in the exact same fashion. nearly every other post had aros or aces as the butt of the joke. people were just constantly making posts making fun of sex repulsed aces. telling us that we're "not really queer" and that we're just "taking up space and resources". it was literally the NORM to bully aromantic and ace people on here for YEARS. it was like EVERYONE had a shitty opinion about aromanticism and asexuality and they NEEDED you to hear it. it was relentless. it was inescapable. it's still happening, but it used to be even worse because people were just obsessed with waking up and mocking aros and aces on this hellsite.

and now people are doing the exact. same. thing. to trans men and transmascs. the new punching bag has been chosen and its transmascs and men. and people will do ANYTHING to make them the butt of the joke, no matter WHAT the conversation is. tiktoks and instagram reels and twitter and tumblr posts talking about how people gladly misgender transmascs and tell them they're "confused girls" and "delusional tomboys". i cannot stress that it is the exact same intensity and level of hostility as what you pointed out. it's the same. it's not to say that this didn't happen before.

like anon pointed out, people were treating trans men and mascs like shit back THEN too. back then, they were getting mocked for being "uwu soft deer prince boys" and white boys with fluffy hair and shit like that. they were getting told that T would make them aggressive and ugly and that they'd instantly go bald. people would literally torment guys who wanted to take T. people were so mean about T back then, not like it's gotten any better. people would yell at transmascs and go "TESTOSTERONE WON'T MAKE YOU INTO AN ANIME TWINK!!!!" and other weird ass shit. people were still treating trans men and mascs this way 10 years ago, it's just gotten worse and worse and worse.

honestly i'm SO sick of people calling AFAB people "whiny". i'm SO sick of it. i'm intersex, i'm not AFAB, and I'M tired of seeing people treat each other like this. it's not cool to hate on AFAB people! it's not cool to make fun of AFAB trans people! it's not cool to refuse to say trans man and say "AFAB trans person" instead! it's not cool to be an asshole!!!!!!!!!!! i'm gonna say it:

if you perceive an AFAB trans person or """"THEY-FAB""" talking about their issues in a serious manner as "whining," you are being misogynistic as fuck. if you think that people assigned female at birth are inherently whiny literally just for TALKING, you are being misogynistic as HELL. the fact that word that these people default to is "whiny" speaks a lot. like that specific word is crucial because it tells you literally every single thing they think about AFAB people. it's so misogynistic it makes me literally see red. they are stuck on the fact that that person is AFAB, and because that involves the concept of "female", it means that that person is inherently whiny, stupid, and annoying. this is sexism. this is misogyny. it's NOT progressive, and it becomes transandrophobia really quickly! which is a real thing that you need to care about!

if you've lived a transmasculine or trans man life, you know that transandrophobia is real. that's why i've never understood the "Transandrophobia isn't real" thing because. if it's mostly trans women and transfemmes who aren't also trans men telling you that transandrophobia isn't real... how the hell would they even know that? like ask yourself how the hell would a transfeminine trans woman know what it's like to live as a trans man? it's not comparable to when that woman was a cis man. cis manhood and trans manhood are not the same thing at all in terms of how we're treated societally. you can't compare the way cis men are treated to the way trans men are treated, they're not the same.

if they're not transmasculine, and they're not a trans man... how the hell would they know how people treat transmascs and trans men? i mean seriously think about it. why would you listen to someone other than a trans man about the experiences trans men face. what the hell? like seriously why are we encouraging trans women and transfemmes to talk about the transmasculine experience if they haven't lived it? why are we encouraging trans women and femmes to TALK OVER trans men and mascs? why are we encouraging trans women and transfemmes to speak as experts on a life they literally do not lead? why are we encouraging people who literally don't know what it's like to talk about the experience like they live it every day? this makes no fucking sense.

nobody encourages you to listen to trans men talking about trans women and their experiences and life like they've been there personally. nobody encourages you to listen to trans men explain OTHER PEOPLE'S struggles and identities FOR them. i don't like that we've created a narrative where AMAB trans women and transfemmes are the only ones who are "right" about things and thus the only ones we should listen to, and the only ones who have the right to talk. trans women and transfemmes have so much to offer our community, and we do need to listen. we do need to care about our transfeminine sisters. we do need to listen to what it's like to be a trans woman. trans women and transfemmes can be wildly intelligent, insightful, caring, compassionate and wonderful people, and can know and learn a lot about life, but that doesn't mean that we know every single experience out there firsthand. i don't like the idea that people think that trans women and transfemmes know EVERYTHING about queerness and should be your ONLY resource on it.

i don't like that. it creates an echo chamber.

why can't we let trans men, transmascs, and AFAB trans people speak for themselves? like seriously: why? what's the reason? literally what is the reason because i can't find it. there's literally no good reason to tell someone to shut up just because they're AFAB. have we forgotten the concepts of sexism and bioessentialism?

imagine if people went around saying "whiny they-mabs".

imagine if people were on here saying "whiny AMAB trans people".

the queer community seems to go through cycles where people pick a handful of identities to use as a punching bag and a scapegoat. that's all this is. people want to scapegoat trans men, transmascs, and AFAB trans people into being the "bad actors" that they can blame for all of their problems and "everything that's wrong with the queer community". they want to blame all of their problems on us because facing their problems head on is hard and scary. they want to blame us for everything wrong in the community instead of lifting a finger to improve it. they want to make trans men look like evil, shitty assholes to try to make trans women look better by proxy and it just. isn't. working.

like, as a trans woman, i'm honestly just fucking over the "only listen to trans women/transfemmes" shit because it feels like virtue signalling and an attempt to suck up to us for brownie points. it's really not flattering at all. it's honestly insulting. we're not the monolith of the queer community. we are manipulated, abused, and oppressed, but that doesn't mean you have to shut other people up when they talk about their own oppression. i have to be real with you, so much of this behavior just comes across as people parroting something just so they can be accepted into a group, to belong somewhere. it feels like a lot of insecure people who just want a pat on the back for saying something easy. it feels like people genuinely don't give a shit about what we have to say and are more concerned with showing off "how much they care" about our struggles. you know... virtue signalling. it feels disingenuous and like it's being done for display purposes only.

it also seems like a lot of people just join the queer community because they view it as the Catty Petty Bitch Drama Community. like some people latch on to that really bitchy catty sassy gay man stereotype and think that's all there is to queerness. they think all it is is bullying other people and telling them what to do and being mean for how they dress, act, present and feel. they want someone to bully. they want someone they perceive as weaker than them to harass. they want to join the community so they can pick a "team" to fight against all the other "teams". people want to turn it into an us vs. them within the community itself, and i have no fucking idea why.

if you are frustrated with cisheteronormative society and how it treats you, don't punch laterally. don't punch down on someone who's on your own team. you don't need to hurt other queer people, we aren't the ones who hurt you. you'll feel like an empty husk for the rest of your life if all you do is chase catharsis, as it is fleeting, not fulfilling.

[bimbroad]

long-winded ramble about melvik and the arcane fandom

I really do believe the boom in the melvik ship has nothing to do with the show (obviously since they barely interacted) and more with black fans and fans of mel ( a black female character that they, by proxy, would have to be exposed to misogynoir when trying to engage with her content) separating themselves from the anti-black fandom into more niche places where outsiders are less likely to scrutinize. especially when you consider that the ship really started gaining more traction months after the show’s end (as opposed to right after or during, which is usually the case) and I think that correlates to the online harassment of mel (and meljay) fans ramping up. if someone is looking for non-art fan content of a character, most of it is revolved around shipping since solo, non-romantic fan fiction is unpopular and un-incentivized.

anybody who’s been a fan of mel since s1 (or has scrolled more than 3 times in her tags on social media) knows that meljay, despite being one of the few actually canon ships on the show, was disparaged, minimized and scrutinized basically since its inception, with most of the onus being on Mel. as her most popular ship arguably until now, that meant if you were somebody that enjoyed mel (or meljay) you were basically getting flashbanged by vitriol to the point a lot of her content was a) people trashing her character or ship b) people fighting back against that undue backlash and coming in dead last c) actual content for the ship in question. This got significantly worse after the arcane writers took 3 percs each during the s2 writing period and validated fanon malice against her character within the show, further emboldening them. if you were a fan of mel or her most popular ship (and once again, canon relationship), you were signing up to be bombarded by bad takes (im being generous) every time you wanted to engage.

sometimes what happens in huge fandoms amongst marginalized fans, I’ve seen people exhausted of dealing with the vitriol branch off into an unlikely, unpopular ship and make that the new “safe space” and I definitely think that’s what happened here.

with that being said, there’s something very funny (/positive) about melvik now compared to its earliest iterations. a lot of early fan-content had a mean-spirited slant to their interactions that you can tell was adopted from the larger, jayvik fanon that they despised each other. there were also a fair amount of consolation prize polycule fan fiction that felt like the writers weren’t confident in mel and viktor’s relationship on its own and the only thing that glued the love triangle together was wanting to appease jayce which is…lol. now it has its own fanon (e.i. pre-canon bitter exes) and better recognizes the merit of these characters outside of a polyamorous relationship. I’ve also noticed that there seems to be an uptick in fan content (art and fan fiction) that centers mel, or just outright de-centers jayce even if there is polyamorous relationship which wasn’t as common before. i wonder how much that has to do with mel fans using the ship as an escape from the hatred in her other tags.

i think now, despite the parallels the writers either unintentionally created or failed to capitalize on, one of the biggest appeals to the ship (and fandom) is that it just embraces absurdism as a crack-ship that could’ve actually had some merit in the show if arcane wasn’t written like that™️. meljay is always diminished and those two character’s love for each other gets debated every day ending in y, but with melvik there’s no real need to prove itself. it’s a “why the hell not” ship and now that the arcane fandom at large is starting to catch onto the fact it exists, it’s very funny seeing people argue about how a relationship like that could never happen in canon, as if fandom has ever upheld the original content as something non-transformative and above individual interpretation LMAO….

anyway. all of this to say that im a #nooticer and i #nootice things

[rhowena]

The core problem of Campaign 3's god debate is that the only real support offered by the anti-god side is "some people are mad at the gods" and no one -- in-universe or out -- seems to realize that the mere existence of people who dislike the gods isn't sufficient to make "should the gods stay or go?" into a hyper-complex morally grey debate, any more than the mere existence of global warming denialists is sufficient to make the factual reality of climate change into a hyper-complex scientific debate. "People who are mad at the gods exist, therefore the current system is broken somehow" is the mentality of people-pleasing: if someone is mad at you, it proves that you're a bad person who did something to make them mad, and you are now morally obligated to internalize everything they say about you and devote all your energy to appeasing them.

I am, personally, of the opinion that it is vitally important for people in positions of power to maintain a healthy awareness of their own fallibility and cultivate lines of feedback from lower down in the chain the way software developers provide bug report forms; however, the reality I encountered when I accepted a forum moderation position years ago is that, if you're an Authority Figure™ of any stripe, for every person with a good-faith criticism of a poor ruling you made while overtired or an outdated policy that needs to be revised, there are a dozen who shake their fists at you because they want someone to be mad at. And when you look at the actual substance of the complaints being made (nearly all of which display a fundamental refusal to grapple with the scale the gods operate on and how that affects their decision-making) and ask "what, if anything, could/should the gods have done differently?" and "is getting rid of the gods actually a viable solution to this problem?", they're all firmly in that latter category.

To go down the list:

Vecna: If we're treating "people who are mad at the gods" as a Marginalized Group™ whose grievances are Good Points™ and Worth Considering™ simply because they are grievances with The People in Power™, then Vecna is part of said Marginalized Group™, seeing as he holds a massive grudge against the gods who helped banish him beyond the Divine Gate and per the campaign books his ultimate goal is to eliminate the worship of all deities other than himself. One can only imagine how hard he's kicking himself for failing to find out about Predathos before his own ascension.

Ludinus: His parents will still be dead whether he succeeds or fails, and preventing the same thing from happening to others is what the Divine Gate is for. Killing the gods would not only not prevent similar tragedies, it would, at least in the short term, actively make things worse: assuming Tharizdun doesn't just eat everything, how does he expect Lesser Idols like Uk'otoa to react to a glorious new age where there are no gods to keep them in check and millions of newly deity-less clerics are stuck watching people die whom they could have saved if they still had their spells? Moreover, what happens when people discontented with his glorious new era swear vengeance on those they blame for taking their gods from them, as Ludinus swore vengeance on those he blames for his parents' deaths, or start idealizing the lost age of the gods and looking for ways to somehow bring them back, as Ashton does with the Titans? Does the perspective of people who like the gods then become Worth Considering™, if they've gone from being Privileged™ to being a Marginalized Group™ who have been collectively traumatized by the loss of something precious to them?

Aeor: One of the major takeaways from Downfall was that Aeor was extremely decadent, corrupt, stratified, and generally dystopian at its height. Their main reason for wanting the gods dead seems to be not liking the existence of anything more powerful than them, and anyone arguing that the gods are Too Powerful To Exist needs to explain why the tiny cabal of mages at the tippy-top of Aeor's societal pyramid, wielding power that 99.9% of Exandrians will never have access to, were not themselves Too Powerful To Exist, especially given their evident imperialist ambitions.

Dorian: I won't downplay the genuine grievance there, but a. Opal was victimized by one of the Betrayer Gods, and what to do about them is a question that Vespin Chloras and Cassida Previn, for all their hubris, approached with considerably more nuance, and b. per the post linked in the previous bullet point, if your ultimate goal is to prevent all ill-advised deals with powerful entities and the unpleasant consequences thereof, where exactly do you stop?

Tuldus and Hearthdell: Plenty of irreligious people across Exandria are living their best lives unmolested, so the whole "you must be religious OR ELSE" isn't something the gods themselves are demanding in a systemic way, and getting rid of them wouldn't prevent all oppression any more than it would prevent all cataclysms and mass deaths. (It might not even stop the oppression committed by those specific religious people; per 'personality predates ideology', the ones who are in it to bully others and feel righteous about it will simply look for a different excuse to do so if their current one is taken from them.) There's a genuine debate to be had about how much responsibility the gods bear for their followers' actions and one could, more reasonably, accuse them of having become too lax and needing to be more stringent about telling their priests to cut that kind of shit out (though that in turn opens the question of how much they can micromanage their followers' behavior before it becomes genuinely smothering and oppressive), but it runs counter to the "the gods have too much control" narrative the Vanguard is pushing.

Liliana: Every parroted accusation she levies at the Exandria's pantheon is something Predathos and its worshippers are far, FAR more guilty of, but Predathos doesn't present itself as a caring, benevolent entity in the same way the Prime Deities do, and she expects us to believe that it admitting that it's bad somehow makes it good. (There's a Slacktivist quote that I think sums up the underlying logic here: "Once you've decided that the Most Important Thing is to avoid the wolf in sheep's clothing, your safest course of action is to embrace the wolf in wolf's clothing.")

Ashton: Essentially blames the gods for refusing to micromanage reality on their behalf and, in focusing so much on his own pain, hasn't stopped to ask what the world would look like if the gods actually felt obligated to micromanage reality on behalf of everyone who petitioned them that way, not just him personally. My dad is an agnostic and specifically doesn't believe in a god who answers prayer because what's a god to do when there's a baseball game and both teams have fans praying for their victory (or when there's a war and both armies include adherents of a given faith)?

Bor'dor: It's one thing to say that the gods have certain obligations to their followers and quite another to say that that the gods are supposed to keep their followers swaddled in bubble wrap 24/7 and prevent them from experiencing any consequences for their own actions whatsoever, and arguing that the Wildmother should have somehow stopped Bor'dor's family's suicide charge from resulting in their deaths is the latter.

Vox Machina: Continue to hold a grudge against the Matron for taking Vax away and would like to believe her being gone would make him mortal again, but when you stop to think about Vax as a person with his own feelings and opinions about his relationship with the Matron, instead of as a passive object to be fought over, the "what if Predathos eats the Matron?" scenario looks a hell of a lot bleaker. There's also the question of whether or not Predathos would consider Vax himself edible; a mere celestial might be one of those half-crushed potato chip fragments at the bottom of the bag in comparison to a god, but when you've been trapped and starving for thousands of years...

Zathuda: Objects not to being told 'no' but to the existence of forces who could potentially tell him no, which to me reads as an asshole whining about how unfair and oppressive it is when people see his assholery and tell him to cut it the fuck out.

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: A lot of this came from the rough week I had and desperately needing Daddy <3

Warnings: Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, toys (triple stimulation ;) ), dirty talk, nothing too rough just passionate. ANGST, reader has a bad day and needs help feeling better, mentions of her ex (brief mentions of him hurting her and being verbally abusive during their relationship; comments on her weight but its brief), boys mention their fathers as well as touching on their own ex.

Word Count: 5367

You were having a terrible fucking day. 

One of the other teachers you weren’t fond of danced all over your last nerve as if it was her mission. You forgot your lunch because you had rushed out of your apartment late due to not hearing your alarm because you tossed and turned all night. Your AC broke around midnight and by 2am you were covered in sweat. Every time you called your landlord, you were either placed on hold or the line disconnected.

All you wanted to do when you got home was curl up in bed but as soon as you walked through the door you were immediately met with blistering heat. 

Usually you could handle all this, all be it with a bit more snark than normal but you didn’t want to. All of your energy was drained and the only thing your mind could muster was the need to throw things against the wall like a toddler.

Daddy.

You debated on calling them. So far the guys had just given you money willingly after every meeting but you had yet to ask them for anything. Oddly with them, you didn’t want them to feel used. Maybe because of what they told you about previous relationships doing just that or maybe it was because you genuinely enjoyed their company. 

Finally giving in to your brain, you reached for your phone and dialed the number they give you. 

“Hey, honey.”, Steve practically sings as his voice floats through. “How was your day? I was just about to call you.”

“D-D-Daddy…”, you cry, unable to stop the tears as they flow. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”, he asked, his tone changing to that authoritative one that made you feel safe. You told him what happened and how your day had progressively got worse. You could hear him moving around on the other line before the sound of a ding from an elevator caught your attention. 

“Are y-you at work? Fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“No, hey, don’t be sorry. I was going to leave early anyway. I just got ahold of Eddie and he’s going to meet me at your place. Do you feel comfortable sending us your address?” His heart breaks as he listens to you cry harder, his protective, dominate side now fully in the driver’s seat. “Baby girl, everything’s ok. I promise we’re going to get everything taken care of.”

After texting him your address, you wait by the open window as you fan your face and as soon as you hear the knock you run to let them in. The rockstar doesn’t even hesitate as he takes you in his arms. 

“Jesus, sweetheart, you are covered in sweat. Are you okay?” Your gaze kept shifting between him and the mogul as his fingers rapidly moved against the screen on his phone. “Hey, look at me, Y/N. How are you feeling? You’re not dizzy or dehydrated right?”

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry if I bothered you both. I didn’t know who else to call and I’m so exhausted—”

“Baby. Baby, breathe. It’s ok. Don’t ever be afraid to call us or ask for help, alright?”

Someone new knocks on your door, startling you but not them as Steve heads that way. 

“Ed, why don’t you get a bath going for her? Nothing too hot though.”

“Yes, sir.”, he salutes making you smile. “Boy talkin’ to me like he’s my Daddy. Come on, pretty girl, let’s let Stevie do his thing.”

***

In the middle of your bath, the AC abruptly clicked on and you sighed in relief. By the time Eddie had you in a long, oversized shirt and brushing your hair, you were completely at ease. 

“Ok, honey, I hired some of the best people to come fix your unit so it won’t break again for a long while. I also called your landlord and threatened to sue him into oblivion…so your next couple of months are free.”, Steve grins as a he takes a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you. “At some point, doesn’t have to be now or even this month, I would like to talk with you about getting you a new place. You shouldn’t have to argue before someone fucking comes to fix your necessities. I mean YOU pay THEM—”

“Steven, you’re doing that thing again.”, the metalhead chuckles as he places the brush on your nightstand. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just hate the idea of you struggling. You deserve all the good things.”

“Speaking of good things, what would you like to eat, babe? Harrington here said you had forgotten your lunch today. We want to make sure you’re fed and full.”

Your head hung as you silently stared into the mattress. 

“Y/N, sweetie.”, Steve coos as he lifts your chin. “It’s ok that you called. You weren’t bothering us and we’re happy to help.”

“I know you said people in the past used you for your money. I don’t want you to think that’s all I want. I DO like you.”

Eddie lightly tugs your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss your lips. 

“We like you to.”

“This apartment really isn’t that bad, you know.”

“Baby, I just gave you a bath in that closet you call a bathroom and that’s coming from a man who grew up in a trailer.”

“I didn’t know that.”

As you lean back into his bare chest, a pleasant sigh leaves his lips and you rest your forehead on his cheek. 

“I don’t talk about that side of my life. I mean of course people find out but…”

“We grew up in a small town so people gossip.”

“That’s how you two met? Growing up?”

Both men grow silent and you promptly hang your head before crawling out of Eddie’s embrace to head for the kitchen. They follow and as soon as they enter the room, you throw a menu onto the counter.

“I like their pizza and beer special. Don’t worry, Steve, we can get you like a Voss water or something.”, you grin as he tilts his head and you stick out your tongue. 

“I feel challenged. Why do you think I can’t keep up with you and rockstar here?”

“I think you just answered your own question.”, Eddie joked as he leaned over the counter to look over the food options with you. 

***

“Ok…3, 2, 1, GO!”

As soon as the metalhead gives the go ahead, you and Steve puncture the beer can with a knife and hastily chug back it’s contents. You were the first to finish, throwing your hands in the air as the other man trails behind. 

“Jesus, I’m rusty.”

“Yeah, sure pretty boy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”, you sass as you lean forward to grab another slice of pizza. 

“So this is like your go to stress reliever? Sitting on the floor eating cheap pizza and beer while listening to crap music?”

“First off, rude. My music isn’t crap. Secondly, yeah. During the colder months I’ll put up Christmas lights and just lay here watching the snow fall. I love this city. It’s so beautiful.”

“Were you born here?”

“No, I’m from the south. I moved here because my boyfriend got a job and I wanted to be near him. Obviously, that didn’t end well.”, you chuckle as you take a sip of your drink.

“The asshole that hurt you?”, Eddie growls, his own protective nature slowly creeping in when you nod. “Was he always like that?”

“Verbally he could be a dick but he never got physical like that before. After we moved here it just got progressively worse. He’d say things under his breath or give me back handed compliments. Fucker could dish it out but never take it.

‘You know for how much weight you’ve gained, that dress actually looks pretty good on you.’

‘Aw, gee, thanks. You know, not many men can pull of jeans that tight but with a penis as small as yours I guess you don’t have to worry.’”

Both men laughed making you smile before it tapers off and they glance towards each other. 

“My father was a fucker to. He got in trouble with the law a lot and ended up in prison back home in Indiana. I grew up with my uncle in that trailer I mentioned.”

“What about your mom?”

Eddie sighed as he propped himself up on his elbow. 

“She died when I was really little. She, um, she was a good woman.”

Nodding, you decide not to pry further as you lean back against Steve’s stomach who was also on his side on his elbow.

“MY dad could verbally be a dick like your ex. He made comments like that all the time especially when I was in high school. I was surprised he let me take over his company. My mother isn’t a bad person, she just…I don’t know…her priorities are all out of whack.”

“I’m so sorry you guys experienced that. I actually get along with my parents and I hate being so far away from them.”

“Why didn’t you move back after you two broke up?”, the metalhead asked.

“My job. I love teaching here and I love those kids. They are all so smart and sassy, I love it.”, you giggle. 

Your eyes shift towards the window as you pleasantly exhale, closing your eyes as Steve’s fingers absently began playing with your hair. 

“When did you two decide to do this whole Daddy/Baby thing?”

“We’ve always enjoyed everything that comes along with being a Daddy and not just sexually. Perfect example, seeing your face light up when I told you I took care of everything with the apartment. I like seeing you happy.”

“I mean the same applies in bed to.”, Eddie chuckles. “We like seeing you unravel and tremble because of us. Why did you decide to do this?”

“I’ve always preferred more dominate men who could take control. I didn’t realize they would be so hard to find.”, you smile. “Maybe I was looking in the wrong age bracket. I needed two OLD MEN.”, you tease as the rockstar bites his lip across from you to stifle a laugh. “I’ve never cared about the money aspect that comes along with it.”

As they nod, you take both men in as they continue to relax. Because of the heat Eddie had removed his shirt so you could see how low his jeans really were as his blue boxers peaked out above the waistband. His hair was perfectly fluffed out, just barely resting on the top part of his smooth back. Any time you tried to run your fingers through it, he always made a joke about how tangled it was but you didn’t care especially when his eyes would close and he would hum lightly in pleasure when you did. 

Steve had showed up in his suit and you had yet to see him in anything else but at least in this moment he seemed relaxed. The first time you were with them, he appeared agitated which Eddie had explained it was because the mogul didn’t want you to feel used after your ordeal. The couple of times after, he constantly displayed an air of confidence which wasn’t abnormal with Daddies you met but in this moment when he put that wall down…he was adorable. Even his hair relaxed as the product began to fade, allowing it to move every which way. 

“You both are handsome.”

They had been in the middle of conversation you didn’t realize they were having until you blurted your statement making them pause as they turned to grin your way.

“Thank you.”, Eddie laughed, air hissing through his teeth. “I think it’s time to take away the booze, Stevie.”

“Pfft I’m not that drunk.”, you giggle. “Trust me, you’ll know when I am. I can be mean.” Both men chuckle and make mocking facial expressions as you playfully glare. “I know you don’t want to tell me what happened with your last Baby but… she’s a fucking idiot for not keeping you two around.”

You don’t see but their features falter for a moment before Steve finally collects himself. 

“You’re technically our first Baby.” Your eyes widen in shock and amusement as he nods before popping open another can of beer. “I know. Plot twist, huh?”

“Obviously we talked to other ones on that site but you were the only one that intrigued us and the first we’ve ever met with. Like Harrington said, we like the aspects of being a Daddy which includes taking care of the girl we care about. Individually and together…it just got exhausting after a while jumping from one date to the next trying to figure out their motives. At least this way…there’s some order to it. Another reason we like you is because you ARE up front.”

“So… your last girlfriend must have really hurt you then…if you decided to give up that scene to this.” They glance your way at your comment as a sad sounding sigh escapes you and you pull your knees under your chin. “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, can we ask for one more favor?”, Steve asks in a serious tone that makes you face him.

“Yeah, Daddy, of course.”

“Have you googled us yet? Or did any kind of snooping?” Both men exhale in relief when you say no. “You wouldn’t lie to us right, baby girl?”

“No, I wouldn’t lie. I wanted to but you wanted privacy. I respect that. Plus, I’d rather you tell me things than for me to read it.”

“Good…good girl.” Eddie praises as you blush. “Can we keep it that way?”

“Yes, Daddy, I promise.”

“What’s going on over there, pretty girl? Why are you all shy all of the sudden?”, he teases eliciting a small squeal as you duck your head into your arms. 

“I’m just glad you two came over. I really needed this.”

“Yeah, honey? Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Actually…”, you sing. “I got a new toy the other day. Would you like to see it?” After they nod, both men watch you rise to your feet and excitedly run towards your bedroom. When you return, you hastily open the box it came in and produce a pink vibrator for them to see. “I figured since I have two Daddies now I can use this if you both are away. This part is like the normal vibrators you see everywhere but this end here goes into my behind and this little part up here plays with my clit.”

“Have you tried it out yet?”

“No, Daddy.”, you answer Eddie’s question shaking your head. 

“Well, why don’t you, baby? Give it whirl and tell us how it feels.”, Steve instructs in a husky tone that has you biting your bottom lip. 

Tossing aside your comfy clothes, you sit naked before them as your eyes suddenly fleet between each man. 

“May I lean against one of you?” 

You can’t help but laugh when both men turn to each other and without any hesitation or prior conversation begin to play rock, paper, scissors. The metalhead wins, throwing his hands victoriously in the air as his friend rolls his eyes before lifting his body and crawling towards you to place himself behind you. Melting into his touch, you lean your head back onto his shoulder and kiss his cheek as he tilts down to kiss your neck. 

His beautiful large hands softly run up the back of your thighs and hooks them behind your knees making you giggle like a little kid as he pries your legs open. They watch with eager eyes as you squeeze a small amount of lube into your palm and your breath hitches slightly as you lather it between your cheeks. 

Eddie army crawls forward till he’s a few inches in front of your cunt, sighing as he lays his head on his forearm. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.”

Smirking, you glance down to make sure the toy is positioned properly before focusing as you insert all the pieces in their respective places. Your body tenses a bit as you lean your head back and close your eyes. 

“Everything ok, honey?”, Steve whispers.

“Y-Yeah. Fuck… just feels a bit…different.”

“For something about the size of a regular vibrator, it really blocks my view.”, the rockstar whines making you pout. “No, shit, hey. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.” Quickly pushing up onto his palms, his fingers grip your chin, and tilt you so he can kiss your lips. “As long as I can see your face and hear those pretty sounds coming out of your mouth that’s all I care about.”

As he starts to pull away from you to lay back down, your free hand shoots out to grab his shoulder. 

“Wait…Can you…stay this close to me to. Please, Daddy.”

A shaky breath escapes Eddie at your needy tone before hastily collecting himself and clearing his throat as he tilts back to sit his heels.

“Yeah, baby, yeah. Of course, I can do that for you.”

After pressing the little button, the toy comes to life and your groan instantly hits their ears.

“Jesus.”

“How does it feel, pretty girl?”

You barely register Steve’s question as your body lights up with every kind of sensation, your mouth falling open as a soft uh falls through. 

“He asked you something, sweetheart.”

“F-Feels…feels…good.”

“Hey. Can you open your eyes and look at me?”, Eddie asks as the other man’s lips gently peck between your shoulder and neck. “Y/N, open your eyes.”

At his firmer tone you do what he commands, mewling loudly when you notice his hand had slid down his pants so he could ease the ache of his cock pressing almost painfully against the denim. 

“Good, good girl. Don’t…fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…don’t take them off me.”

Steve’s mouth grazed your ear and his low, husky whispers had you trembling against him. 

“There you go, baby girl. Make yourself cum. You deserve it after the long day you had. After you make yourself cum, your Daddies are going to take care of you, honey. We’ll fuck you till that little brain goes quiet. Fuck, I can hear how wet you are. Makes me so fucking hard.”

Your eyes rolled back as the coil snapped and you pushed back against him as you came. 

“No, hey, no, baby. Don’t run from it.”, Eddie lightly scolded as he grabbed the end of the toy and continued pumping inside of you at a rigorous pace. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Daddy, please.”, you begged as you pushed at his hand.

After delicately removing the toy, he tossed it out of the way, collecting you in his arms, and positioning you so you were straddling his waist. 

“You have to take off your pants.”, you breathily giggle when you feel the cold metal of the button on his jeans against your puffy lips. The rockstar’s eyelids flutter as he grunts in frustration and his arm grips your body to him as he uses his free hand to sloppily push them down his thighs. “Baby, you can let me go to take them off. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right you’re not. You’re ours, princess. Fuck.” As you clung to his neck hovering over his lips, his eyes remained on your face as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. “Can you say that for me? Tell me who you belong to?”

“Mmm—I belong to Daddy. Oh my…so deep.”

“I know, baby, I know. There you go, that’s it. Just ride my dick just like that.”

His palms held the meat of your behind as he guided your movements while you bounced on top of him. Eddie’s gaze never faltered as he continued to take in every little movement that twitched along your features. Every time your bodies connected; your eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. When his length would roughly hit that sensitive spot inside you; your mouth fell open as you panted against his lips.

His favorite part was when either of you moved at a faster pace, you pulled him as close to you as you could. He loved feeling your needy hands pushing against his back to bring him to your chest or when your head fell against his shoulder as your fingers ran through his tangled mess of hair. 

If he could be this close to you all the time he would. 

“Fuck, Y/N.”, he practically growled as he lifted you up and placed you on your back underneath him. His lips roughly kissed yours as he rolled his lower half into your own. “You feel so fucking good. I need you to cum, pretty girl. Please.”

Your eyes opened at the word as his closed in focus, that little crease in his forehead as he thrust at a quicker pace had you swooning as you reached up to cup his cheek. A small smirk flickered across his mouth as he did the same; his thumb absently caressing your cheek. 

“Just like that, Daddy. I’m gonna cum. W-Will you cum with me?”

After nodding, the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room till it was replaced with your whimpers and his grunts as the coil snapped and you both came. 

Steve had been patiently waiting as he watched you both together, stroking his cock as your beautiful moans filled his ears. He desperately needed you but he knew how to wait; you’d be his soon enough. 

After removing all of his clothes, he tossed them to the side, wanting to feel every part of your skin against him this time. As Eddie backed away, the mogul beamed down at you as he took his place. 

“Are you ok, honey?”

He chuckled softly at your lopsided grin as you reached up for him to bring his lips to yours.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I want you.”

“I like hearing you say that. Can you say it again?” 

“I want you, Daddy. I need you.”

Falling onto his side next to you, he guided you to do the same with your chest against his and one of his arms under your head. 

“I just want to be really close to you, Y/N.”, he murmured as his large palm slid down your spine, over your ass, and along your thigh as he lifted it over his hip. Steve only released you long enough to guide his cock inside of you before placing it against your back near the base of your neck. “Fuck, baby, still so wet. Did Daddy make you feel good?”

“So good—mmm—I’ve never…”

“Never what? Tell me.”, he instructions as he continues doing little but deep thrusts into your core.

“No one’s ever fucked me like this…at this angle…”

He can’t help but lightly laugh making you sigh as you smile and lean your forehead onto his.

“We told you, baby girl. You’re with men now. We know how to take care of a beautiful woman like you.”

As he finds a steady, firm rhythm, you feel like you’re going to melt into a million tiny pieces as he stretched you open. Steve’s palm continued to roam your skin as his other remains firmly positioned behind your head, keeping your face as close to his as possible feeling your pussy clench every time he moans into your mouth. 

“That’s it—fuck—just hold on to me, Y/N. Don’t let go.”

“Never.”

You didn’t even realize you said it but they both heard as it fell from your lips. Feeling his pace falter, he pounds into you hard and fast trying to get you over the edge before he cums. Tears streak your face as you tremble against him and while your cunt quivers around his cock he warms your insides as he spills inside of you. 

“Fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck…”, Steve pants as he lifts your head and pushes back the hair sticking to your face. “Are you alright?”

A wide toothy smile greets him as you tilt back and giggle. 

“Yeah, baby. That was perfect.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you into a quick shower.”

“Nooooooo, Daddy.”, you whine making Eddie laugh as he jumps to his feet in only his boxers. 

“Come on, ya big baby.”

He starts to tug on your arm like he’ll drag you if he has to causing your smile to grow as you rise to your feet and let him lead you to your bathroom. After putting on his own boxers, Steve trailed behind taking in the things around him. 

Even though the majority of people had music on their phones, you had a small shelf filled with records and a record player. Along your walls were pictures of you with different people he assumed to be your family and friends. As he entered your bedroom, there was a bookshelf filled with reading material and he couldn’t help but smile when he notices a book hanging out that pertained to his business. 

You were trying to learn and understand; he appreciated that. 

What he didn’t like was when he placed the book back down a picture that was nestled in the back binding tumbled out. 

It was you with another man’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

Steve heard your laugh as you and his friend exited the bathroom and he held it up in your direction. 

“Where did you get that?”, you asked as your face fell.

“It fell out of this book here.”

Your eyes closed as you sighed, taking the book from his hand and placing it on your dresser. 

“I didn’t know it was in there.”, you mumbled. 

“So you could hide it?”, Eddie asked with a tone filled of accusation. “Who the fuck is this?”

You try to control your anger as you watch the rockstar snatch it from the mogul’s hand as the other man stares at you waiting for an answer. 

“My ex.”

“Yeah, that’s going to require some more explaining.”

“He let me borrow the book. Look, it’s not what you think! I asked a friend to ask him for it. I didn’t even think the asshole would put his fucking picture in there. I don’t even know why he’d do that.”

“To manipulate you and make you miss him.”, Steve growled. “Why are you taking anything from him at all?”

“Can we talk about this later, please? I’m so tired.”

“No, we can’t, Y/N. This is the second time this man is popping up suddenly and after what happened the first time I don’t like it.”

“What part? The part where I still went on a date with him or the part where he assaulted me?”

“Does it matter?!”, Eddie yelled. “Both were fucking awful. Nobody should be putting their hands on you and you are ours. We’ve made that very fucking clear!”

“And it’s crystal clear to me, Eddie. I don’t want to have anything to do with him!”, you scream, grabbing the image and tearing it up. “I try to avoid him as much I can but it’s hard! Fuck, this day sucks so much.”

“Why is it hard, Y/N?”

Folding your arms, you feel your heart start to break as you prepare for the worst. 

“Because we work together! That’s how we met. We went to school together back home and when he got a job here in New York I followed him. He suggested I apply to and to my surprise I was hired to!” You shrug as you wipe the tears that began to fall. “I thought we were going to be together forever. I was a fucking idiot.”

Taking a seat on your bed, your head hangs but after a few seconds the mattress dips on either side of you as Eddie pushes your hair behind your ear so he can see your face. 

“Usually, he just ignores me until he wants something…like last time… Since I started seeing you, now I ignore him and according to idle gossip it bothers him.”, you explain as you roll your eyes at the end. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”, Steve inquires. 

“Why don’t you about your last girl?”, you snap. 

As he exhales in frustration, Eddie rises angerly off the bed and stomps into your living before coming back with his phone in his hand. Falling to his knees in front of you, he flashes you the screen but when you try to take it from him he pulls it back. 

“Read.”

“Gina Frost, daughter of 90s film star, suing guitarist and business tycoon for palimony.”

Your gaze shifts up to meet his with confusion. 

“H-How have I never…”

“Our lawyer managed to put a lock on our information and we don’t actually go into a court or anything. Not yet anyway…”, he sighs. 

“Can she…I mean…palimony is for a couple not a—”

“Yeah we know.”, Steve cuts you off a bit harshly. “Add that twist into the knife she stabbed into our backs.”

“I’m so sorry. I really am… I didn’t tell you about my ex because I felt stupid and I thought…maybe you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore if I told you. I swear, Steve, Eddie, I don’t have feelings for him. I like you two. I mean I know this is just a…I don’t know…a thing right now but I do enjoy talking to you. I feel safe with you and even though we can’t put a specific label on it I at least consider you my friends. You know…my old man friends that fuck me from time to time.”

They both laugh at your joke causing you to smile as you relish the sound. 

“We felt the same.”, Eddie responds first, guiding you against your pillows as he follows and climbs in beside you. “She took advantage of us and it took us forever to even catch on. We like you to...”

“Very much.”, Steve added as he curled up beside you as well. “We’re not that old, ya brat.”

You giggle as they pull you closer to their sides. 

“Are you safe? From him, I mean?”

“Yeah, he won’t do anything while we’re at work and if he did I would knock him out. That’s what happened last time. He yanked on my blouse and I turned around to punch him. He told people in the school he got in a bar fight defending a girl.”

“Jesus Christ. What a dick.”, the rockstar chuckles. 

“Thank you both for coming over. I really need this…needed you.”

That makes them softly smile as you slowly begin to drift off to sleep. Eddie’s eyes scan his friend’s demeanor as he absently plays with your hair. 

“Steve Harrington, whatever you’re thinking about doing, you can’t.”

“I don’t like him being in the same building with her. What if he hurts her again?”

“She said he won’t. Ah, ah.”, he tuts as the mogul starts to argue. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like it either but… that’s not part of our deal. We have to trust her. Unless she asks us to deal with him, we shouldn’t bringing that kind of attention our way.”

“Eddie, I don’t care about that kind of attention. Fuck Gina and fucking popular opinion.”, he growls. “What if…what if we can’t get to her or what if he does something worse… She said he changed after they moved. It just makes me nervous especially with us going out of town soon. I want to know she’s ok.”

“She’s a strong girl and if she needs anything she’ll tell us. We can’t control her like that. We aren’t those kind of men… we aren’t our dads.”

Steve glances his way, exhaling as he reaches over to pat his best friend’s arm. 

“You’re a good dude, Munson.”

“Aw.”, Eddie coos. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, Harrington.”

#################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash

[searchingforserendipity25]

thomas lawrence's bisexuality is not a secret, as such, not because he made any fuss about it to make a political point, and not because he broke his vows at any point.

but because, back in the late eighties, he was involved in a semi-infamous love triangle involving a forceful up-and-coming middle-aged professor of religious studies.

she; and her sad ancient foppish husband, who in his turn was a rather morose, more-or-less decent theologian of the late roman period.

their marriage was more of a polite convenient arrangement than anything else. the real surprise, at first, was that professor, let's call her profressor whatelet - that professor whatelet wasn't actually a raging lesbian.

many of the early rumors had it that she was a lesbian, and dating a pretty young woman with a taste for tweed suits; until it became clear that the pretty young thing with a taste for tweed suits she was found kissing in the library of the sorbonne after hours was not, in fact, a lesbian. he just had very long bangs.

but then, her boytoy was also her very gay husband's live-in secretary and research assistant. a real arthur-guinevere-lancelot triangulation, by all appearances:

but then, not quite.

there was a great deal of walking arm-in-arm and long debates and chivalrous opening of doors. there was hand-kissing. there were whispers about gold-digging, or worse, academic historical source digging. there were three chairs around a round table, at home and in restaurants and in the office.

this would have been fine enough, in its deeply hypocritical way, paris in the late eighties. a bourgeois academic couple, not unusual they'd have something on the side.

that the something on the side was shared between husband and wife was too salacious to prove. as he was playing the gallant towards both of them, it was not quite eminently clear which way the infidelity was happening.

and that was just what they liked. something to be said about being cleverer and more charming and more original than anyone else. most lovers feel like that. the whatelets had more cause for it than most.

alas, it so happens that this may-december threeway affair had its january-april fallout.

beyond closed door and closed windows, thing came to a head. after some intense intellectual debate and some intense intellectual threesomes, and a great deal of aquinas, and a great deal of st. paul's epistles, and some de beauvoir, the arrangement was found to be non-sustainable.

not least because dr. whatelet wanted to retire back to auvignon to be a beekeeper and try to win back his widowed first love, and professor whatelet was desperately bored of paris andwanted to apply to a senior position in stockolm.

also, their shared boytoy was having a spiritual epiphany no amount of unsacred kneeling could silence. there was that, too.

in conclusion:

professor and dr. whatelet got a divorce, a controversial uncatholic move that shook the foundations of their department.

it broke apart friendships. itlead to a number of low-simmering disputed coming to a head and several supposedly-unrelated resignations, and caused a domino effect of revealed scandals and anonymous letters-to-the-editor debacles.

a small but meaningful faction of the theological studies sphere was pulled through the who-kept-what-friends-and-what-grant nightmare. including a clever chessmaster that would one day become pope, who heard the confession of one:

thomas lawrence. young, successful and disillusioned manager of a london firm, his sabbatical to paris got him a reputation as a homewrecker.

he only barely shock it off by falling out of love with the whatelets, passionately in love with christ, quitting his soul-sucking job, joining a seminary, being extremely weird about chastity as both a theological ideal and a practical principle for nearly half a century, and outliving most anyone who ever heard about it.

except for the old pope, of course. his holiness was the one who celebrated the whatelets' purple marriage in the first place.

[callmedaleelah]

collision ft. gojo satoru

part one | next part >>

summary : gojo satoru, rich nepo baby and law student, wakes up to a leaked scandal that wrecks his reputation. as pr damage control, his parents fund a scholarship—unknowingly forcing him to live with its recipient.

warnings : dump antics, teenage delinquency, cursing, female reader described, english is not my first language, not proofread, works under cut

the first thing gojo satoru registers is the pounding in his skull. a deep, relentless throb that syncs perfectly with the bass still echoing in his bones. he groans, shifting against the ridiculously soft sheets, his face half-buried in a pillow that smells vaguely of expensive cologne and a bad decision.

his mouth is dry. his limbs feel heavy. his stomach churns in protest the moment he shifts.

hangovers. god, he hates them.

he blinks up at the ceiling, this isn’t new. he’s had mornings like this before—waking up disoriented, mind fuzzy with the aftermath of too much liquor, too much noise, too much everything. but something feels off.

his phone vibrates on the nightstand. he doesn’t move at first, waiting for the nausea to settle, but then it starts buzzing. actually, no—blowing up.

he cracks one eye open, wincing at the blinding glow of the screen on his nightstand. notifications flood in so fast they blur together. messages, missed calls, news alerts.

missed calls from dad (4)

missed calls from mom (2)

missed calls from shoko (who literally never calls him, what the hell?)

messages from suguru (12)

his brows furrow. okay. weird.

he scrolls further, past the texts, past the concerned messages, until his eyes catch something else.

he fumbles for the phone, squinting against the assault on his retinas. the moment the words register, his stomach does a slow, unpleasant flip.

“heir to the gojo financial empire caught in scandalous video—questioning the leadership of university!”

“gojo satoru: law student or walking pr disaster?”

“leaked video: gojo satoru’s wild night with a stripper goes viral!”

his blood runs cold.

for a second, his brain refuses to process it. like the words are just a blur on the screen, some ridiculous clickbait that has nothing to do with him.

but then his fingers move—on autopilot, tapping the link.

and there he is—plastered across every social media platform, shirt unbuttoned, eyes half-lidded with intoxication, moving against a woman who is very clearly a stripper. her hands are in his hair. his hands are on her. they’re swaying together, his lips close enough to her neck that there’s no mistaking the intimacy of the moment.

his stomach drops.

he scrolls. the comments are brutal.

“bro didn’t even try to be subtle LMAO.”

“and this guy is supposed to be a law student? a future leader? yeah, right.”

“not just any law student. the heir to gojo corp. imagine the pr budget after this mess.”

gojo groans, flopping back onto the bed and dragging a hand down his face. he knows he fucked up, but come on—stuff like this happens all the time. he’s young, he’s got money, people party. why is everyone acting like he just committed a federal crime?

his phone rings, and he doesn’t even have to check the caller id. he already knows.

he lets it ring twice before sighing, bringing the phone to his ear.

“satoru.” his father’s voice is ice. sharp, controlled, and laced with the kind of quiet anger that’s somehow worse than outright yelling. “my office. now.”

the line goes dead.

well. that can’t be good.

gojo stares at his phone for a second longer, debating whether to just not show up and see how far his dad will go to drag him there. but knowing the old man, he wouldn’t even get the luxury of a warning. just a team of security guards breaking down his door and shoving him into a blacked-out car.

so, with a dramatic sigh, he swings his legs off the bed, wincing as the movement sends another wave of nausea rolling through him. god, he needs water. and maybe sunglasses. definitely sunglasses.

he stumbles into the bathroom, squinting at his own reflection. white hair still a mess from last night, shirt hanging off one shoulder, and a very faint lipstick stain on his collarbone. classy.

by the time he’s freshened up, thrown on a dark sweater, and grabbed his sunglasses, his phone is still going off. more texts, more headlines.

“university under pressure to respond to gojo satoru scandal—what does this mean for future funding?”

he scowls. okay, that is a little concerning.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

the company building is chaos when he arrives.

security is out in full force, trying to keep the press at bay. journalists shove microphones at employees walking in, camera flashes go off like fireworks, and the entrance is a swarm of bodies all trying to get the latest scoop.

gojo watches from inside the tinted car window, jaw tightening. shit.

his driver doesn’t even bother asking if he’s ready before pulling into the underground parking garage.

“so,” he says, glancing at the driver. “you think my dad’s gonna kill me?”

the man wisely keeps his mouth shuts and not even glancing from the rearview mirror.

as he steps out, a familiar weight settles in his chest—the weight of knowing he can’t charm his way out of this one.

the executive wing is eerily quiet. no one meets his eyes. no one even looks at him.

the assistant outside his father’s office glances up as he approaches. “they’re waiting for you.” she says, nodding toward the double doors at the end of the hall.

“they?”

she doesn’t answer.

great. now he’s walking into an ambush.

with a sigh, he pushes the doors open.

his father is seated behind his massive desk, posture stiff, eyes hard. across from him sits another man—one gojo recognizes immediately as the university’s dean.

well. that’s new.

gojo drops into the chair opposite them, draping one arm over the back like he’s settling in for a casual chat.

“so,” he starts, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. “who wants to yell at me first?”

his father doesn’t react. but the dean? he looks like he’s two seconds away from throwing something at gojo’s face.

“do you have any idea how bad this looks?” the dean snaps. “the university is under fire. parents are demanding explanations. donors are threatening to pull their funding. do you realize what that means?”

gojo does. he just doesn’t like acknowledging it.

he rolls his jaw, looking off to the side. “look, it was a party. i had a little too much fun—”

“you were caught on video grinding on a stripper like you had no concept of personal space!”

gojo winces. okay. when you put it like that.

“this isn’t just about you, satoru.”

his father’s voice is sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. the weight behind his words settles deep in gojo’s gut, pressing down like a stone.

“the media isn’t just talking about your little… stunt at the bar,” his father continues, his expression unreadable. “they started digging into the case of the threat to a professor at the law faculty that recently just emerged. and guess what they found?”

gojo forces himself to sit still. “i don’t know. why don’t you enlighten me?”

the dean—who has been silent until now—slams a folder onto the desk. “look.”

gojo eyes the folder for a second before leaning forward and flipping it open.

a crypto transaction ledger.

his name isn’t on it. but his wallet address is.

and the payment—made in a discreet privacy coin—was sent to the account that funded the threats against professor nakamura.

gojo keeps his expression neutral, but his mind is already racing.

this is bad.

“what the fuck is this?” he mutters, swiping through the logs. the timestamps, transaction hashes—whoever set this up knew what they were doing.

“that,” the dean says, voice cold, “is proof that you paid for a faculty member to be harassed.”

“gojo satoru,” his father’s voice is eerily calm, “did you send this payment?”

gojo tosses the tablet back onto the desk, forcing out a dry laugh. “seriously? if i wanted nakamura gone, i’d do something way more efficient than sending him scary emails.”

the dean’s nostrils flare. “this is not a joke, gojo.”

“no, but it is bullshit.” gojo leans back, arms crossed. “i didn’t make that payment.”

“then explain why the transaction is linked to your wallet.”

“you ever heard of spoofing?” gojo snaps. “or do you think blockchain is some magical truth serum?”

his father’s expression darkens. “satoru.”

gojo clicks his tongue, jaw tight.

his father exhales. “there will be an investigation.”

“go ahead.” gojo stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. “just don’t expect me to sit around while someone drags my name through the dirt.”

“watch yourself, satoru.” his father’s voice is low.

gojo just smirks, heading for the door. he pauses, tilting his head.

“so… am i, like, officially expelled, or do i get a farewell party first?”

i’m so sorry for writing a new series while the last one discontinued for months 😔 i don’t even know what i wrote here and would it be written till finish 😣😅 that’s such a pressure if you ask me—i’m just a girl with a bunch of assignments and a little time to write but too much imaginations to represent 🥹😊

and my request is open guys 🗃️📑

[fall0utmind]

After Pecco has the realisation of Marc's self depreciating thoughts being there because of Vale, does he confront Vale about it at anytime or maybe the academy boys are at the ranch one day training and maybe Vale is talking to someone about Marc in a not so nice way and pecco just loses it.

Hello, I am so incredibly absolutely here for pecco being protective af.

(This ask for prev)

I feel like at first he really keeps it on the down low. He just grits his teeth and bares if when the others make nasty comments. Most of the boys click on pretty quickly, but Vale doesn't notice how pecco tenses and how agitated he gets.

When pecco realises quite how low marcs self-esteem is sometimes, all because of Vale and his hate campaign, he can barely keep his anger in check. Pecco finds himself leaving the room the minute the topic steers towards Marc.

It all comes to a head when vale makes a comment to the media, (classic) about marc being a bad teammate for pecco. Then he brings it up ay the ranch and pecco just explodes.

No one has ever seen mild mannered pecco so angry. Ever.

"Where fhe fuck are you getting this from vale. Because i know I haven't said this about marc. Did you stop amd think for one second that it's not just marc who it's affecting. It affects the whole of ducati, all the people who have to scramble to assure the world that marc isn't a bad guy. It affects me, how i fit into the team. The mechanics are beginning to get pissed at me because they assume I'm the reason you won't shut up.

Youre fucking lucky that Marc is mature about it and just brushes it off. Most people wouldn't. He tells them team not to take it out on me. Shrugs off your horrible comments. Agrees to do more media with me to smooth things over.

To make it all worse. He's a fucking great teammate. Sure. He's a bastard on the track and sure he's been an idiot before. But he shares his data, he contributes his ideas, he congratulates me. He has done nothing wrong.

Not for a decade. And even then, it's debatable.

Because newsflash Vale, he's a nice guy, and you're not always right."

Pecco is seething by the time he finishes. Breath coming out in short, sharp pants

When he looks up, he sees the shocked faces around him. He can't bear to look at Bez, nor Franky. He just catches Luca's gaze, the only one who knows.

He chances a look at Vale's shocked face, his jaw slack, and his eyes wide. And then pecco realises what he's said, and fuck, that was probably stupid.

Really stupid.

So, pecco turns and runs. Straight out the back door, through the yard. Thankfully, he had the foresight to keep his keys in his coat and his bags in the car. So he doesn't even look back once as he climbs into the car and guns it out of the ranch. He only sees Luca in his rear view mirror, staring forlornly after him.

Embarrassingly, that's when the tears start, his eyes welling up. There's a hatred building inside of him that Valentino is such a PRICK sometimes. That Marc has to deal with it. And he's caught in between. He sobs.

With one hand on the wheel, he scrambles to find his phone, somewhere in the depths of his pocket.

Before he can even register what he's doing, marc is picking up the phone.

Pecco can't stop crying.

"Pecco, amore, what's wrong?" He asks, panic lacing his tone.

"How do you do it. Put up with all the shit they say about you. When you know it's all lies."

"Time, carino. Lots and lots of time and self-acceptance. You learn to brush it off."

"But all the stuff you say about yourself. All the stuff he's said to you over the years that you now believe."

Marc laughs, soft and indulgent.

"Francesco, I have therapy for a reason.

Its a work in progress. I promise

Now tell me what happened. I will hurt anyone who hurt you."

------

Just some thoughts some thoughts

[lilacartsmadsion]

Cookie Run AUs:

Dark Vanilla AU: Wattpad

An AU where instead of Pure Vanilla, The Ancients are lost after the Dark Flour War leaving only Pure Vanilla is the remaining Ancient. Having lost their rulers, Crispia falls into a dark place of despair, reliant yet hesitant to trust Pure Vanilla. This causes Pure Vanilla to turn bitter and rule with an iron fist to ensure the Dark Flour War never happens again…Also DE ends up taking longer to be free because 4 Ancients holding her back kinda did a toll on her.

Status: Ongoing.

Sixth Lost Ancient AU: Wattpad.

An AU where there was a Sixth Ancient and Gingerbrave ends up getting their Soul Jam. He in turn learns the secrets of its previous owner.

Status: Ongoing

‘Light’ of Truth AU: Wattpad

The story goes off as normal, except Pure Vanilla Doesn't have Amnesia, he ends up in the Dark Cacao Kingdom, and things take a turn...but is it really for the worse if one purges those of darkness? Aka PV accidentally gets corrupted after getting free from DE

Status: Hiatus (Debating whether to redo the AU or Cancel it)

Traitor Licorice AU: Wattpad

Licorice had enough of the CoD and decided to go Apeshit. Added an OC there just cause.

Status: Hiatus (Might rewrite it cause the writing is cringe as hell)

Death’s Darkest Soul: Wattpad

Inspired by ‘The Blizzard’s of Spring’s Wake’ on A03 an AU related to my ‘Ghosts of Our Pasts AU’ that basically has Cacao as a human sacrifice as a baby to the god of Death or smth. Death is an OC.

Status: Hiatus

Ghosts of Our Pasts AU: Tumblr.

A Dark Cacao Backstory AU that was made because I was bored idk. This was written prior to the Dark Cacao update but fleshed out afterwards. All known fanfictions of it were in my Deactivated Account (cause I was a dumbass and accidentally deleted my Account) but I intend to rewrite it and flesh it out some more. I do not intend to make it a fanfiction though, since I prefer it being explained in arts. And mostly because it’s an AU for DCA’s backstory that really contradicts canon.

Status: Uhh????? Idk I make references to it sometimes???

Outcast AU: Tumblr

Traitor Licorice except it’s Red Velvet and Dark Choco who had enough of the CoD. A comedy/Slice of Life AU I made a while back. (In my Deactivated Account) takes place before the DCA update.

Status: Ongoing

Chocobrave AU: Tumblr

An AU where Dark Cacao adopts Gingerbrave. That’s it. That’s the AU. No it is not a ship, this is mainly a Father and Son AU that’s it. (I’ve had an ask before and I feel like I need to clarify) Also this AU is mainly angst with no comfort so get comfy.

Status: Ongoing (Mostly Oneshots)

Future AU

An AU that takes place after DE’s defeat. The Ancients have given up their Soul Jam, thus causing them to pass on. Leaving Earthbread under the protection of the Main 5. However something in Gingerbrave snaps causing him to steal the Soul Jam and create conflict for Earthbread once more.

Status: Ongoing (Told via visual arts)

That time I Adopted a God AU: Tumblr.

An AU where the Ovenbreakers defeat the Witches and become gods, creating Earthbread and all its inhabitants. One day Nameless One pops on over to Earthbread in mortal form and ends up getting adopted by Dark Cacao Cookie.

Status: Ongoing.

Ancients are Gods AU: Tumblr.

Yeah the title is self explanatory except this was a joint AU between me, @beatrixblog and @boneasin not gonna add a status under this because I’m not sure if we’re gonna continue it or not. Bone hasn’t been active in a while…

New AUs:

Pastry Cult AU: Tumblr probably.

Gingerbrave gets baked early and ends up in the clutches of the St Pastry Order, after discovering the truth of the Witches, fueled by bitterness and resentment Gingerbrave spreads false information about the Witches in order to send the cult to its doom.

Status: It’s new so…

Cookie Empires AU: Tumblr probably.

The Ovenbreakers were made to be the Beasts replacements, but seeing what happened to the last batch, The Witches decided to choose cookies to wield the Soul Jams instead of baking a new batch. Now without purpose the Ovenbreakers build empires in the Continent of Crispia and become their respective rulers. Immortal through other means and powerful through their dough.

Status: Still new.

I’m gonna add the Ninjago AUs in here since this is my main blog, however I’d like to ask people to uhh…just go to my Ninjago blog to talk about Ninjago because I mainly use this account for CRK. Maybe later since I’m lazy..

Ninjago Blog

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

so.. rockstar ex gf reader x 90s! dave at an award show, coincidentally with the same seating arrangement and their bands nominated in the same category, one of them won and took the other to the bathroom to brag abt the award, iykwim. tytyty ilysm hbvsauiowduh🙏

A/n: HELP MY COMPUTER DIED AND I ALMOST LOST THIS I WAS LITERALLY ON THE LAST LINE I WAS GOING TO KILL SOMEONE anyway I hope you enjoy this <3

Warnings: Smut, angst, semipublic sex, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 2

All around you were people whispering about your current situation. Someone somewhere decided to sit your band next to Megadeth, your ex's band.

You sat across from him, trying to keep things civil with space but Dave kept staring at you, just waiting for something to happen, even going as far as to toss a few peas at you 'accidentally'.

Still, you tried to ignore him. Your bands were nominated for the same award and you were confident that, if you didn't win, you'd surpass Megadeth.

Your relationship had been no secret and your distaste for each other was well known, clearly whoever put you here knew what they were doing. Everyone was talking about it, any time you walked past someone your name was the last thing out of their mouth, their gaze always led to you.

Part of you hated it more than anything, it felt high schoolish, the whole of it. You were an adult, the people around you were supposed to be adults, how did it lead to this?

The reason was people speculating about the end of your relationship. You had been so happy together for almost two years, people were expecting a wedding, but then it was over and a fire reared its head in the wake.

You wish you knew what to tell people other than to respect your privacy.

Really, Dave came home in a better mood than usual, it was strange but welcomed. He got you your favourite flowers, snacks, the works and he was clinging to you, showering you with words of affection up until you were laying in bed.

You were curled up at his side, head on his chest and trying to fall asleep when your world came crumbling around you.

"I don't think I can love you anymore." He said with virtually no emotion, pain, sadness. Nothing.

The night ended with things being thrown, more tears than you thought you had in you and your throat hurt with how much you were screaming. All you wanted was answers but he just wouldn't give you any.

You packed your things the next day while he slept somewhere else, where you didn't know and didn't care. You were gone by the time he got back and neither of you contacted the other afterwards. Dave started his own band to get back at Metallica and you were determined to do the same, to add salt to the wound.

Until now, neither of you had a reason to see each other and you were more than happy with that, he'd given you everything and for what?

You sat back at your table right when they were about to announce who won the award. You leaned your head in your hand, swirling your drink in its glass as you waited for a name to be called.

You didn't even care anymore, you were tired of the gossip, of the rumors that you cheated on him, that this and this happened, that it was all just a publicity stunt because yes, of course, you and your love for a man who couldn't be bothered to do the same was entirely up for debate how could you be so fucking stupid?

"I know we've all been waiting for this one, the once happy couple sure is cheery, huh?" You glanced up to the announcer, the big screens showing your table.

You looked miserable. You felt even worse. Everyone around you did their best to be presentable but you were ready to flip off the camera crew.

You noticed another unhappy face at the table, Dave. He would still glance at you occasionally but he was glaring daggers at your bandmates beside you, wondering how they could be so oblivious to your sunken mood.

"Anyone know what happened?" The announcer asked, a big smile on his face. A few small laughs sounded throughout the place as tears welled in your eyes.

You wanted to run and hide but you knew you couldn't while they called out your award. So you sat there silently, waiting to hear if all your efforts were worthless. "Well, guess it's time to rip the band-aid off and let the wound bleed." How thoughtful, you thought. "And the winner is!" A soundtrack of a drumroll played even though their are more than enough capable drummers here, something you'd always wondered about. "Megadeth!"

Your ears were ringing. All the cheering, the men at your table standing and excitedly reaching for one another at the award. It felt as though you were being stabbed by everyone's eyes.

You felt a hand on your back. "Are you okay?" Your bandmates voice was muffled like it was behind a wall of foam. You nodded and excused yourself, keeping your head held high as more tears formed in your eyes, just trying to make it to the bathroom.

There was no one else there and you just stared at yourself in the mirror taking deep breaths until you calmed down but the tears just rolled down your cheeks.

The door opened, you expected to look over and see your bandmate but it was Dave. He had a concerned look on his face, those stupid glasses you wanted to rip off of his stupid face and crush them. He'd just go buy another pair but you wanted to.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You carefully wiped your eyes, trying not to ruin your makeup and further.

"Why do you care?" You muttered, keeping your voice low, not trusting it to stay stable.

"Because I care about you." You scoffed at that.

"Oh, yeah, sure you do, you cared so much about me yet you couldn't even be bothered to love me." He stared at you a moment before taking a step closer to you.

"I never said I didn't love you." You opened your mouth to protest but his arms were around you and he spoke up again before you could get anything out. "I said I didn't think I could love you anymore."

You rolled your eyes at him before wiping them again. "What a fucking difference that made." He sighed and leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder just as he used to, the sight tugging at your heart.

"I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, I never stopped loving you and I never will." More tears came to your eyes and you couldn't blink them away.

"Shut up." You said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't want to, alright?" His voice was deep and soft in your ear, honey dipped silk wrapping around your mind. "My manager made me, said it would be good to get the band out there."

"You chose to break up with me... for fame?" You mustered, not wanting it to be true.

"If I didn't they would have dropped us from the label."

"So you didn't choose me?"

"You're not getting it-"

"I get it perfectly!" You yelled, spinning around and pushing him off of you. "You were already a big band, it would've been stupid to drop you and even if they did someone would've been dying to pick you up." He stared at you, taking in your words knowing you were right. "You didn't love me."

"You can't say that." He said, gaze falling to the ground.

"You treated me like Metallica!" Tears dripped from your jaw to the tiled floor as you glared at him. His eyes shot open. "You were done and you dropped me for what? Publicity?" He didn't say anything.

A long moment passed, neither of you saying anything.

Dave took a step closer to you, then another until he was inches from you. He wrapped his arms around you and closed the gap, his lips crashing against yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. You'd missed him for so long, so many sleepless nights with your hand between your thighs, a random man you'd close your eyes and pretend was Dave but it was never the same.

He pushed you back until you hit the counter. He lifted you onto it and stood between your legs, quickly undoing his pants and letting his half hard cock hit your already wet panties. You let out a slight gasp into the kiss and Dave groaned as he stroked himself.

He didn't bother taking them off of you and just pushed them aside as he pushed into you. He pulled away from the kiss, letting your see just how his eyes closed, how his mouth opened and soft breaths left him.

"Fuck, I missed this." He groaned. His eyes opened and he brought his focus back to you, your eyes as they swirled with lust and hatred, both directed at him. "You are so beautiful, you know that?" You bit your lip, looking down his clothed body until you landed on where the both of you connected.

He took your chin in his fingers and tilted your head up to look at him. "Do you know that?" You nodded. "Tell me."

"I know." You muttered.

"You know what?"

You inhaled deeply. "I know I'm beautiful." He gave a nod of approval.

"And this award means nothing, you know that too, don't you?"

"Yes, I know." He gave another nod.

"You know I love you, right?" You paused. He stared at you expectantly, eyes flickering all over your face, admiring your features. "You'll know when we're done." He kissed your forehead and pulled his hips back before snapping them into yours.

Your eyes shut tight and your lips parted in a moan, you'd waited far too long to feel him like this again, how he stretched you out and dragged against your gummy walls. More moans ripped from you as he set a fast pace, Dave's hands roaming your body and lips kissing up and down your neck, leaving small marks.

His hand came down and he rubbed your clit with his thumb, giving it some well needed attention after months of only you noticing it. Fuck, you loved the way he made you feel, all light headed and your body hot with desire.

A familiar knot formed in your gut, burning a passionate fire that resonated throughout your body. Your voice echoed off the walls while Dave's grunts and groans were save specially for your ears. You weren't concerned with someone walking in on you, let them see, let them hear how good he made you feel and see the love in his eyes as he stared at you in awe.

"Hah- Fuck, Dave, m'close." You mumbled, leaning back on your hands and letting him do the work, it's the least he could do and he was more than happy to do it.

He didn't say anything and kept his pace, his thumb still pleasuring you perfectly. Your chest was rising and falling, breathing laboured and your head rolling back as you felt the strings slipping and finally snapping, loud moans leaving you of cursing and repeated 'Dave' over and over.

He let you ride out your high on him but pulled out and got himself situated again. "Why-why'd you stop..?" You asked, breathing heavy and your eyes lidded.

"Well, I figured if I was gonna show you I love you I didn't need to worry about myself, right?" He said simply as he helped you dust yourself off, so to speak, and off the counter. "I can worry about that later, can't I?" He asked, wrapping his arms around you once more.

You thought about it for a moment as you made your way to the door, Dave still clinging to you. He held you tighter, not letting you leave. "You know I love you, don't you?"

You bit your lip, remembering everything that happened before the breakup. "I know you love me." You said, thinking about how abruptly it all ended.

"And?" He asked.

You looked back at him over your shoulder. "And?"

"Verdicts still out?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"It'll take more than a fuck in some bathroom for me to consider that." You mumbled and left the bathroom, Dave still following close behind.

[aviradasa]

I was debating whether to do this or not, but since I’m here— I’m going to

Eric Draven x reader-

idk what they are doing yet, but something in me wants to say Eric is comforting reader after a hard HARD day- she hasn’t slept much the past few nights and it’s getting harder for her.. so like.. soft dom Eric?? (No smut- I just kinda need this haha)

Love this request and it kinda got away from me. But then I fell asleep while making it so it's kinda short and also i proofread it not 10 minutes after waking up 🤣

Not my best work but as I get a feel for his character trust it will be better lol. I hope you enjoy this little shitty drabble

It felt like the days just kept dragging on. Like a repeating cycle of the same shit on different days, like you were running in a hamster wheel.

Sleep, eat, work, come home, sleep, repeat. And to top it off you were constantly finding yourself up at night waiting and Worrying.

One of the highlights of your life was your lovely boyfriend Eric. He's the best thing to happen to you in your life. Not a day goes by that you aren't grateful for him.

But with his tendency to go out late at Night, killing those who have it coming, he is also the cause of some of your greatest stress.

Though he was immortal and undead he was still killable if his crow gets injured, and you can't bear the thought of it.

You have tried to ask him if it was possible for the crow to just stay here where it's safe, but with him being able to see through its eyes, he refuses.

He knows about your concern for his safety, and sometimes he wonders if you worry more for him than he does for you.

But you try to hide your fears. Really, you do, but of course he sees right through it. He always did.

He can feel your sorrow when he sees you lately. Almost like it radiates from you.

He sees the bags and dark circles under your eyes growing worse as the weeks go on. you carry on without sleep, and he notices when your mental state declines slowly but surely. Noticing how you seem to be withering away almost

He fights with himself to refrain from asking you about it; he knows if you wish to tell him you will come to him. But he won't pretend It doesn't eat at his eternal soul being kept in the dark.

The day he walked into the apartment at 1 am hearing a loud crash and a loud exclamation of “FUCK” followed By a sob. He was sick of seeing you like this.

He knew part of the issues but not the full extent; he didnt want to be overbearing but he was gonna need to know your mind entirely to help.

So He followed the direction of the noises that led to the bathroom.

Slowly push the door open to see you sitting on the floor up against the wall with your knees to your chest, one of your hands curled into your hair, and the other covering your face as you cry.

Next to you on the floor are the broken Pieces of the cup you kept your toothbrush in, which was most likely the cause of the crash.

Hearing the screech Of the door opening, your head shot up quickly, wiping your face as you look up at him.

Your hair was disheveled from tugging; your eyes were glassy and dilated to the Point he wondered if your soul was truly trapped behind them, and your face and lips had a rosy tint from The salty tears that previously spilled from your eyes.

You looked almost like an animal caught in a trap, looking back at him like you did something wrong, and it hurt to see you in such a state.

Without a word he crouched down next To you, lifting a hand to your face. Gently moving some stray Hairs away from your skin as his fingers glide down your cheek, light as a feather. before tracing them to your chin, tilting your head up to the side and checking for any sign Of injury. Before switching to the other side. He knew there probably wasn't any but it was habit to make sure at this point.

Once satisfied by the inspection, he moves your head to face him, looking you dead in the eyes as he studies you.

It feels like he's reaching into your soul the longer he looks, so you attempt to avert your gaze As if you're Afraid to let him see too much at the moment.

But he doesn't let you. Instead, bringing his other hand to the opposite side of your head. Speaking the first words of the night in A calming voice, “Look at me.”

The gentle tone grabs your attention away from your hardship for a moment, making you latch on to his command like a lifeline as you shift your gaze to him.

Even with the worn grease paint That covers your lover's skin, you can see the tender worry on his features. Most people would probably falter or fear his strange look., But for you, it only calmed you.

I mean it's what You see whenever he does finally appear to you. The black and white paint and leather trenchcoat remind you that he kept his promise to come back to you that night. So you welcome it with open arms each time.

“What happened in here?” He asks you, releasing you from his grip to your misfortune, snapping you out of your thoughts as you look over at the mess with a dazed expression, feeling your throat tighten and your eyes water.

You take a moment before you speak so you don't end up breaking down again though it's in vain as you barely get a sentence in before it all comes out.

“ I came in here to clean up after getting off work cause it fucking pissed me off, and I wasn't thinking and I knocked the fucking cup off and it broke and I couldn't deal with it cause I'm having trouble dealing with everything and I don't know what the fucks going on anymore or what's happening!-” you try to explain, though about halfway through you just end up rambling About all sorts of different things as tears begin to fall once more.

You're so overwhelmed, and feeling like you have no control of your life at the moment scares you more than you can explain. So he makes sure you don't have to. Your rambling said enough.

He sits down fully next to you with a small smile, pulling you into his side, letting you cling to him feeling your grip tighten on the fabric of his shirt as he wraps his arms tightly around you one of his hands gently cradling the back of your head as you release All the pent up emotions that were swirling around your mind.

As you begin to calm down he doesn't say anything. Just sitting in comforting silence until you look up at him.

“I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to come home to this bullshit.” You tell him with a dry chuckle as you lighten your grip on him and sit up a little, using your sleeve to wipe your face.

“You shouldn't be having to deal with this on your own, you need to talk to me about this stuff. I'll be here with you through anything, but you have to let me.” He comforts all While making a pretty good point.

You had a tendency to refuse help or support, not wanting to be a bother. But with Eric, you were just gonna have to learn To communicate whether you want to or Not.

With that in mind, you just give him a small nod before you hear him speak once again “ no, say it to me. What did we just talk about?” He tells you in a sassy tone that surprises you for a moment.

“Come on, you know what I'm sayin'-” I object with an airy laugh, a grin creeping onto his face as he shakes his head side to side. “No, no. You didn't say anything. Shaking your head isn't a direct form of speaking. I want you to promise me. use your words.” He tells you with a hint of amusement.

At this point, he's just trying to put a smile on your face, and it's clearly working. He doesn't give a damn about a promise as long as he can see that smile he loves so much. You roll your eyes at him with a sarcastic sigh “Yeah, Alright, I promise.” I confirm with a smile as I lean back into his side. A few moments go by before you let out a yawn.

“Hey let's get you off this floor. Don't worry about the mess I'll get it. You just get comfortable and I'll meet you out there. ok?” He offers as he stands slowly, holding his hand out to you, hoisting you up slowly with ease.

You shoot him a quiet thank you and a kiss on the cheek before exiting the bathroom. You deeply appreciated his care. But something about it made you wanna return The favor as you made your way to your room.

[adventuringblind]

Teach Me Part Two

Max Verstappen x Reader Part One

Genre: Hurt/Comfort with a speck of spice (technically speaking)

Summary: Max teacher his girl about subdrops and helps her through one of her own

Warnings: Softdom Max, mentions to a past toxic relationship, mentions of choking, subdrop, minor insecurity, Implied smut but nothing graphic, Lando is mentioned for like a paragraph because I can

Notes: For @nurse-sainz who has fueled my brainrot to an unhealthy amount

Side Note: My inbox is open and I crave attention... :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max had come to the conclusion early on that she would inevitably hit a subdrop at some point. As much as he would like to make it so she never has one, he knows it's going to happen eventually. It's - unfortunately - hard to predict and often random. 

Crashing out of a subspace too fast, A used safeword, maybe even just too much stimulation. He's had partners be in that lovely place in their heads and fine only to fall from it without grace and send them into a panic. 

“A subdrop? I don’t think I read about those-”

“It’s one of those things that they don’t talk about as much. Hitting a subspace is hard because you have to let go, right? A subdrop is when your mind is stuck between the two. It’s trying to take back control but can’t.” Max pauses the movie they hadn’t been paying attention to. This conversation takes precedence as far as he’s concerned. 

She hums and rubs the side of her face against his arm like she’s a cat. “They sound scary. I’m not sure I want to have one of those.” 

“Just remember that if you ever do, I’ll be right there with you, yes?”

“Yes.”

He smirks at her. The idea had already been planted in his head. “Yes, who?”

She grumbles. A furious shade of red making its way across her cheeks. The honorifics is a relatively recent thing. The effect it has on her has Max cooing; debating if he should ever let her out of his arms again. 

“...Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

~~~♡~~~

Choking had come up a few times in the past. They’d talked about it but not done anything with it. Not since she wasn’t sure. She’d even brought up how her ex (the bastard) had tried to choke her out before she managed to flip them over and bolt to Max’s own room. 

He wasn’t going to push for that. Never something that could be triggering. They’d decided that his hand gently putting pressure on the back of her neck was enough. She liked that and Max liked that she was communicating. 

But sometimes - even that can be enough to bring back memories. He’d been lucky so far to not have triggered anything. Max knows from experience that even movements that are too quick can have an adverse reaction. 

It’s not late, the sun is barely setting over the Monaco sky. Though - he’s not paying attention to the time so it could also be rising. He’d never know the difference. He’s only focused on the mess of a female he has underneath him. 

She’s not formed a coherent string of words since orgasm number three. Only able to squeak out his name alongside little whimpers. It’s safe to say Max is pussy drunk and can’t get enough of her. He’s not satisfied yet, and wants to see how far he can push.

Max isn’t sure which touch triggers it. He’s pressed up against her in most spots leaving it hard to decipher where he ends and she begins. 

He only notices she’s slipped into that awful middle headspace when he pulls back for just a second, intent on picking his pace back up. The confused fear that settles over her expression makes him freeze, patiently assessing the situation. 

Her teeth clatter together, the pain of something evident. The breathing pattern he’d been waiting to even out only gets worse. “Schat, can you take a big breath for me?” He settles the palm of his hand against her rapidly beating heart. His concern only grows when she doesn’t show any signs of hearing him. 

She makes a defensive movement to cover her throat with her own hands, silently pleading with her eyes not to touch her in such a vulnerable location. It dawns on him, that in his own flurry of movements, it’s possible he brushed her neck and set off her emotions.

“I’m going to step away from you for a second so I’m not touching, okay?” Her eyes go wide with panic and he knows she’s probably struggling to comprehend. The sadness of her expression kills him as he detaches. 

Tears prick her eyes the second contact breaks completely. She snatches hold of Max’s own wrist and in a last ditch effort to make him stay, tries to press his fingers around her airway. “Nonono, schat, I know you don’t want that.” When he’s able to hold her gently once more after having resituated, the sobs she’d been biting back finally escape. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe, I would never do something you didn’t want.” 

Max doesn’t grimace when her nails press into his bare skin; when she’s clinging to him for stability. He holds her, hums, helps her to try and steady her breath. 

“Mm’ sorry-” 

“Shh, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. Rest now.” 

~~~♡~~~

Max manages to coax her into sleeping. She’s cute like this, curled up against him with her ear pressed against his chest. He presumes the rhythmic sound of his thudding heart is helping calm her mind. He makes a mental note to invest in some kind of white noise for if (he knows it’ll be a when, but he’s choosing to be optimistic). 

“Max?” Her eyes crack open, only to shut tight again when she yawns. 

“Hello beautiful, how are you feeling?” He tosses his phone aside to give her his full attention. 

“Better - I think. I’m not sure I liked that feeling.”

“I would be concerned if you did, schat.” 

She stretches her limbs out and flops further over the top of him. “Thank you… I was scared I messed up and you were going to leave.” He has to take a deep breath and remember that anger at the man who put these crazy thoughts in her head is no longer able to come close. He made sure of that with a few cryptic messages glued together in newspaper words and Lando’s artistic assistance. 

“You’ve bewitched me! Body and soul�� or something-”

“Are you trying to quote Pride and Prejudice?” 

“Is it working?” He’s blushing at his own lame attempt. Victoria would have his head for this later. Problems for future Max. 

She giggles. “Not really - but I’ll give you a pass this time.” 

Max gets her out of bed and into a bath. He makes a show of letting her pout to join her inside win out. He lost that battle before it even started, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

“It’s nice… trusting someone like this.” She relaxes against him, the water now lukewarm and the bubbles having dissipated. 

“You still trust me?” Oops - Max hadn’t meant to let his own insecurity about the ordeal leak out. Oh well…

She tilts her head in confusion. “Why would I not?” 

“It happens sometimes after a drop like that. At least - I’ve heard it can. I figured I was lucky enough that it hadn’t.” 

“I think you’re just good at this. Not like you were trying to hurt me.” She shrugs. “I trust you, Max. You have given me nothing but your undying love and support.” 

“...Now look who’s being sappy!” 

“At least mine is original.” 

“Can you at least pretend that I’ve also given you some really good dick?” 

“Fine! Nothing but your undying devotion to me and some really dick. Happy?”

Max sighs happily and drags her body as close to his as he can manage. “With you? Always.”

[helluvagirlboss]

The False Dichotomy of What Should Be Helluva Boss’s Focus

“It should have just been a silly murder of the week show!”

Vs.

“No the IMP episodes were boring the character drama is more engaging!”

These arguments are two opposing sides of the biggest debate in the Helluva Boss fandom.

There are people who think it should have just stayed a simple murder-of-the-week comedy, that the show lost its edge and turned into a boring soap opera.

And on the flip side there are people who think the more character driven plots make for a better show longterm and that the mission episodes that focus on the business would get stale and boring.

I only joined the fandom back in May of 2024, I’m not a longterm fan but this debate has been going on for as long as I’ve been here, and based on the numerous YouTube videos recommended to me, it’s been going on for even longer than that.

Through it all I have realized what my biggest problem with this debate is.

Why does it have to be one or the other?

There is validity in the first group being annoyed that the business itself had fallen out of focus, but there is also validity in the second group wanting the show to evolve beyond its initial premise.

But for this show to thrive, it needs both the character drama and the relevancy of IMP as a business in the story.

And when I say relevancy of IMP as a business, I am not suggesting we go back to strictly the “murder of the week” format because the show has evolved beyond just the assassinations, but keep IMP as a plot device, let it be the reason the episodes’ plot happens more often than not or at least let it be used as the vehicle for character exploration.

IMP, and by association, Blitz, is the reason characters like Millie, Moxxie, Loona, and Stolas were able to find the strength to leave behind the lives they felt trapped in and why they began their journey to living life the way they want to. Their lives are the way they are because of this business, and that’s why keeping it as a relevant part of the show, even if the missions themselves aren’t the point, is crucial to the story’s narrative.

IMP is what sets them apart, sets Blitz apart, showcasing that imps are more than capable of standing on their own two feet. It is also the reason all the character are here in the story. Let it be relevant to what’s happening in the story. You don’t need an episodic “murder of the week” format to do it.

And speaking of which, on the other side of the spectrum, as much as I love S1, if the show never evolved beyond the “murder of the week” formula, it would have gotten boring and it could have risked turning into a Miraculous Ladybug situation, a show that spent four out of its six seasons going nowhere, and once it realized it had to go somewhere it fumbled the bag super hard.

The show needs both the murder business and the character drama to thrive. It needs the murder business as a plot device to keep the show focused, and it needs the complex character drama to give the show any substance.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, second half of S2 has a much better grasp on balancing both, and episode over episode structure in the second half has a much more logical and focused progression:

“Full Moon” has Stolas give Blitz the means to run his business independent of the grimoire while confessing his feelings to Blitz, something that goes poorly for both of them.

“Apology Tour” is the aftermath of the confession, I’m gonna assume it’s been a month in between considering the calendar in the previous episode and it being Halloween in this one, and Blitz trying to understand what went wrong and make things right, only to make things worse.

“Ghostfuckers” deals with the aftermath of “Apology Tour” in which Blitz completely falls apart, self-destructs, and almost tanks the one thing he is most proud of: his business. But this episode serves to remind him that the business he created allowed people like Millie to thrive and that he needs to cherish it and his friends more.

“Mastermind” is the consequences of all their fuckery, and how dangerously close they come to losing everything. In fact Stolas does end up losing everything because of it, and it all happened because of the deal he and Blitz struck to keep IMP afloat.

And finally “Sinsmas” is the direct aftermath of “Mastermind”, in which Blitz finally gets to bring Stolas into his world and gets to show him the business he created, for better or worse.

While S2B still has flaws in its pacing and tonal inconsistencies, it feels more focused and balances elements of the initial premise with the character drama that kept people intrigued. And I really really hope the writers took what made S2B work and kept that going for S3.

I’m open to discussion if anyone has to to add about this post!