#me when I don't view women as people what the fuck

[patricide1885]

This argument will never end for a specific reason. I know this is risky but I'd like to try to directly, albeit clumsily, address the elephant in the room that I think we all know exists but have been avoiding because we don't want conservatives and TERFs to use it against us.

Not all people under the trans umbrella are the same. By their own admission (as in, if you ask them directly what their socialization experience is), not all trans people of either gender have the same socialization experience, and at some point we need to accept that.

And yet we have to pretend that everyone is coming from the same place because obviously we don't want to say there are "real" and "fake" trans people. But regardless, the only thing we *all* have in common is that we identify as a gender different than what was assigned at birth. Which "identity" can mean multiple things in itself.

In the end, everyone should have full autonomy over their bodies regardless of reason. But to pretend that we are all doing this for the same reason of have the same gender experience is simply not true. And that's why a lot of trans people are so fucking transphobic/transmisogynistic towards other trans people - they're projecting because they don't actually see themselves as the gender they identify as in the same way, or have different understandings of what that means.

For example, in my experience FTMs might see themselves as simply a "guy with a medical condition", a "girl pretending to be a guy", a "a third gender that's guyish", "a female that identified as a man", "a person who doesn't think gender is real but likes being in the male category the best given the options". Some identify as lesbians as well as as men. Some people identify /as/ trans itself where others will identify as male or female, and view trans as either an adjective or a verb. Some view transness as "wanting to be" x gender, and others have an internal sense that they simply are and always have been the gender they say. And everything in between.

This also explains why so many trans people endorse the "gender/sex" divide. For me that's insane and hurtful. When I transitioned, gender wasn't even my focus, I was occupied by my sex dysphoria. Do I identify as a man? Well yeah, but, I can't comprehend being happy with calling myself a "female man". I am not going to say such people are not real, or valid, or that I am somehow "realer" or more valid than them, but they are different from me. Our self concepts and experiences are different.

So there are trans women and trans men out there who don't actually fully see themselves as the gender/sex they identify as or have the same experience of gender. And unsurprisingly they often act accordingly. I have seen plenty of a examples from both sides. And I have also met many trans people who absolutely were socialized as the gender they identify as. I also think a lot of people had a secret third thing.

I think to pick up socialization you have to either believe on a deep unconscious level that that socialization is for you or you have to fail the other socialization (among other things that also affect cis people). I don't think this decides whether you're a valid trans person or not, and I think it's a spectrum. Personally, I have noticed that in certain ways I'm more male socialized than a lot of the trans men I interact with. I did identify with a lot of male messages as a child, and I failed at being feminine despite myself in many ways. But I wasn't fully male socialized in that there are a lot of things I had to learn and unlearn, and there are things both positive and negative that I simply for one reason or another just didn't pick up. I don't think that makes me less valid as a trans person.

I know this opens up a horrifying can of worms that people can use for transphobia and transmisogyny. But it's the truth. And I'm tired of us tip-toeing around it. Until we face the messiness of transness head on, 1. Some people will be told real things they see aren't real, which will lead to full on reactionary beliefs as they are forced to either not believe themselves or be full on reactionaries (especially when the trans person themselves is saying that they are male socialized or only kind of a woman or what have you - that's kinda hard to refute then), whereas 2. Many trans people themselves will secretly feel that their validity is a house of cards that they have to keep on posturing to hide and be constantly terrified that others will discover this. But there's nothing wrong with the truth outside of the fact that we fear reactionaries won't accept it and we are afraid to be subject to intense gender scrutiny.

And again, the thing is - it's not a secret. Trans people say this stuff all the time. Some trans women casually say they were "male socialized", or that they don't have dysphoria, or they didn't identify as their gender until recently, or that they to this day still see themselves as a man with a female body. And the same goes for trans men, who often actively shrink away from being considered men-men and pointedly identify as a "trans man" rather than a "man", because they want you to know that they're not like those "evil" cis men - that they're intrinsically different somehow. And obviously many say all the time that they were "female socialized" and use that as a cudgel against trans women, because if they are "female socialized", obviously all trans men are too, and therefore obviously all trans women are male socialized too, right? That is the logical conclusion to understanding trans people as a sort of monolith who have a consistent shared experience.

Pretend you didn't see that.

This is a level of transmisogyny that is somewhat hard to comment on because the things that one would normally point out as transmisogynistic implications are said so brazenly that there can be no pretense about any of the involved parties being unaware of it. The authors know, the readers know, everybody understands that this is pure transmisogyny. There is no plausible deniability.

It's an attempt to establish proximity between transfems and cis manhood in every way possible. Their bodies, their histories, their "socialization", the way they are treated by others, the way they treat and view others, their ways of thinking, even their self-conception. Every aspect of their being is cast as essentially male. Transfems are being called "men" in all but name - and not just any "men", they are made into embodiments of the worst aspects of hegemonic manhood. Not just male socialized but continuing to benefit from male socialization. Not just engaging in abusive behaviors stemming from male socialization but being afforded the freedom to do so because they continue to be treated as men. (Suffice it to say that this does not align with reality)

This is unadulterated sex-essentialism and it's intentionally being used to delegitimize and devalue the standpoint of transfems in feminist discourses. It's clear that the author is projecting transmisogynist ideas onto transfems and simply assumes that these ideas must be correct without considering any alternative. (The fact that transfems do not internalize "male socialization" has been reiterated many times over and should not have to be continually reasserted. This is a baseline level of understanding that we should be able to expect and demand from members of our community.)

Misogyny is framed as being contained within the realms of sexed bodies and gendered socialization in such a way that it allows for the casting of transfems as people enacting misogyny without being primary targets themselves - like cis men.

The claim that the animosity some transfems exhibit towards men comes from wanting to "prove" their womanhood serves the double purpose of casting their womanhood as inauthentic and denying the misogyny they suffer at the hands of men. One would be hard pressed to find a more cruel mischaracterization of transfems' experiences than this.

The cynical misappropriation of the standpoint of the people this screed is directed at by the use of "we" despite making it abundantly clear that the behavior that is being criticized and its supposed causes exempt people such as the author from the possibility of engaging in it should also be noted as an attempt at weaponizing a compromised version of standpoint epistemology against transfems.

The only plausible target audience for this kind of rhetoric are those who carry extreme ressentiment towards transfems and are susceptible to softened formulations of TERF ideology. These are the same kinds of ideas that TERFs have tried to push into trans spaces numerous times, e.g. under names like "sex-conscious feminsim".

A formulaic "retreat" from this post consisting entirely of platitudes has been published after the author received backlash for it but nobody is under any obligation to accept it and they absolutely should not. A person who was very obviously attempting to promote TERF ideology in trans spaces and in the same stroke accused transfems of being uniquely prone to making false accusations is not trustworthy, even if that person backs down upon realizing that the reception is more uniformly negative than anticipated.

@genderqueerdykes @gateway-2000 is a transmisogynist, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Its entire worldview is permeated by transmisogynistic assumptions, ideas and biases at a fundamental level. It has straightforwardly expressed an understanding of transfems' interiorities, their experiences and their social positions that is so incorrect that one has to wonder how someone holding these views could have navigated trans communities for a considerable amount of time without encountering the many transfeminist rebuttals to all of its demagoguery. How could someone with even a passing level of familiarity with TERF ideology or "gender critical feminism" read and espouse these ideas without recognizing them? It's completely unthinkable. It's not unreasonable to assume that it simply misjudged the consensus within its audience as being sufficiently anti-transfeminist for ideas such as these to fall upon fertile ground and it is now going back to waiting until the time is ripe to reintroduce them and to expressing them in more subtle ways until then.

But you can't un-ring a bell.

We can and should assert boundaries against reactionaries engaging in obvious subversion such as this. Refusing to do so is a deleterious error in judgement. This is very far beyond the limits of what any trans community that wants to consider transfems a part of itself can be allowed to tolerate.

[luxrayz64]

i think jigsaw would be pro life he's so petty and puts people in traps for literally anything he would absolutely put someone in a trap for getting an abortion

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[purpldawne]

when vil said "don't look at me with those eyes" then went "ill just make everyone else uglier"immediately after. i felt that

[trash-and-trash-accessories]

I do want to note that the whole "women are allowed to dress masculine and wear trousers" thing needs to be viewed in its historical context:

People fought for generations to be allowed to dress that way. They fought hard to be allowed to wear pants. Blue jeans were a symbol of feminist revolution. Women were barred from workplaces and schools for wearing them.

This is not some a natural fact that women dressing masculine is less shocking and humiliating. That normalization was fought for and hard-won.

And yet so many people erase the struggles of those people who fought to make that happen and pretend that it's just normal and natural that people don't see women "dressed like men" as ridiculous.

The Marriage of Figaro has what's called a "breeches role" which is a woman wearing men's clothes playing am ale role. This was done partly due to the vocal range requirements, but in many cases it was done comedically. It was risque and sexualized or comic relief that a woman was dressed as a man.

Anti-suffragette posters mock women wearing pants - well they were bloomers and split skirts back then - and mocking more masculine cut styles of clothes. This was meant to portray this as ridiculous.

They mocked the "new woman" in Weimar Germany, lamenting that they were too masculine.

This is a political cartoon from the 1920s depicting a woman in masculine dress deciding which bathroom to use:

Sorry but you're erasing these struggles and flattening history when you say this shit.

Women were killed and institutionalized in the struggle to make this happen. It really fucking bothers me the way it's framed as "people just don't find it as weird when women dress masculine."

Yes they fucking did. Until women and transmasculine people fought for their right to wear what they want. It's normalized because people struggled to normalize it.

And it's not normal everywhere. There are many countries where it's still illegal for women to wear pants. Afghanistan, for example.

Even in the US, it's forbidden and considered ridiculous in groups like the FLDS, the Amish, and the Hutterites.

We are flattening and erasing the struggles of women when we say these things. I know we're trying to build theory here but you can't build solid theory on a foundation of lies.

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

councilor!sevika x assistant!reader headcanons

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ getting together　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

i have too many thoughts about miss councilor sevika (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

◗ 　they get on each other's nervs at first. sevika is still too new for her position and the need to prove herself to the most of the council drives her insane, cause those fucks are hella dense. so she's constantly on the edge, trying to wiggle between mentally fighting for her people on the meetings and actually taking part in rebuilding of zaun. and sometimes (or a lot of times) sevika sees reader as just another nuisances and a person who's ready to judge her just because she's not from piltover

◗ 　reader on the other hand just can't comprehend sevika's nature. she was raised and worked for years in a more "higher context culture" if you can call it so, so she's shoked how straight to the point sevika is, often taking it as nothing but rudeness. reader also can't say much to sevika, since she can't make herself speak up, taught to be respecrful and obedient to her supiriors, leaving a lot of space to passive aggression

◗ 　 they're taking all the first places in the misunderstanding and miscommunication competition

◗ 　sevika hates how reader is set on the formal speech with her. "stop calling me councilor" "that's who you are" "yeah but you don't have to say it in every sentence, you sound like some wind-up toy" "okay, ma'am, I'll take you wish into account".

◗ 　she realises that reader calling her "ma'am" is worse but not for the same reasons

◗ 　 their relationship is very much about learning and understanding each other and those around you. mostly for reader, cause she was brought up with a mindset of zaunites being someone lesser. and even though she follows etiquette, trying to be polite and serve as a perfect assistant, cause her whole life she dreamed of working with someone who changes other people's lifes, or even being that person, she can be judgmental towards sevika, refusing to see her point of view properly

◗ 　 eventually they get closer and more comfortable with each other, which means reader drops her nice formal persona with her passive aggressiveness, and they actually menage to solve more problems while arguing and letting the steam out than just walking around on eggshells for days

◗ 　 that's when sevika starts fall for reader. it's like reader's mask slipped and she can finally see a real person and not a workaholic machine. she loves how both sassy and caring reader can be. their fights now end in laughter and omg they also can say sorry to each other

◗ 　 sevika insists on brining reader to any important event, where plus one is required. because reader helps her monitor her actions and gives helpful insides of other participants of course, not because she just wants to spend time with her, definitely not

◗ 　and reader is oblivious™. she's so happy, she finally doesn't hate her work and her and sevika can even be called friends, she doesn't notice any move sevika makes, simply thinking it's nothing but platonic gestures

◗ 　 eventually she snaps. "are you straight?" "what?" "i asked around, and people said you're into women. did they lie?" "n-no" "then what?" "what what?" "if it's just me you don't like you could've said so"

◗ 　 reader is of course shocked. she has to take couple of days off, embarrassed with how blind she was and to think the situation through

◗ 　 next time they meet reader refuses sevika, saying it's not right to have a romantic involvement with any colleague, especially not with your boss. sevika understands and agrees

◗ 　 well actually she doesn't. a compliment here, a touch there. sevika does nothing too provocative so reader can't say she's acting improper. but she's just playing a long game

◗ 　 and yes, it works. months of teasing ruins poor reader's morals. flustered and very much horny she tugs sevika into a kiss on just a normal tuesday in councilor's office

◗ they may or may not have sex right there they definitely do

—————————————————————————

kay, a bit messy. definitely gonna do part two or a full drubble with them later

[burningembers91]

Freak of Nature - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The Salesman can't get enough of you, he's drawn to you like a bee to honey. It's just a shame you don't know he's watching you.

A/N: I'm not 100% sure where I want this to go yet, and i've never written for a character like The Salesman before but Gong Yoo's unhinged performance has me hooked!

Warnings: 18+ only!, stalking, The Salesman needs his own warning

He’d always known he was fucked up; had always known he wasn’t “normal”. From a young age, his parents had thrown every penny available at psychologist after psychologist, desperate to find a cure for their little freak of nature. Nothing had worked though; nothing had been able to quell that constant desire deep within his soul.

He’d spent years being forced to subdue whatever demons he housed, fooling his parents into thinking the therapy was working. Nothing could save him though; nothing could rid him of the evil that had taken root. He enjoyed playing with people, relished in seeing how far he could take a person before they completely snapped. Human life was so fragile and fickle; why shouldn’t he be allowed to play with it? People so often wasted their lives; took what little time they had for granted. If anything, he was helping people. He was giving them a chance at a second opportunity for life. The games he played with people, the innocent, childhood games were all completely legal. He never made anyone do anything they didn’t want to, that was beauty of his job. Everyone always had a choice, he just made it hard for them to say no. People were greedy, hungry for fame and fortune. He gave those who sought riches beyond their wildest dreams a chance to make that dream a reality; it wasn’t his fault if they didn’t win the game.

This life he led was a lonely one though. Relationships had never been his forte. He’d always been too much for women, too intense. He had needs, desires that few could meet and those who could only stayed a short time. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of love. He knew he’d never loved his parents, had never loved any of the women he’d fucked. They were merely an object which he used to meet his own needs, all of them too vain and fickle for him. He enjoyed a challenge, wanted someone who could keep him on his toes. But how would he find someone like that when even he didn’t know how far he was wiling to go? How high did his freak flag fly? No one had ever stayed long enough for him to find out. He usually paid for the company of a woman, handing them wads of cash so he could feel a brief moment of ecstasy. He’d never felt anything for these women though; had never felt the burning desire that he felt when he was around you.

He'd watched you every day for three months now, sipping your latte in the same coffee bar, your laptop open as you marked your students work. You always sat in the same spot, right by the window with the view of the park opposite. He’d taken to sitting on a bench in that park, right opposite where you sat. He’d watched as your brow furrowed while you marked essays, he’d smile at the way your perfect pink tongue delicately flicked the frothy coffee foam from your top lip. You were perfect to him, so innocent and excruciatingly delicate. He’d followed you home a few times, keeping enough of a distance that you didn’t notice him in the crowds, but close enough that the floral scent of your perfume wrapped tightly around his senses like a hangman’s noose.

He knew you lived in a small studio apartment, number 235. Your bedroom looked out over a small restaurant, and he’d sit there some nights, watching the shadows of your form through your curtains. He’d never been this enamoured with a person before, never craved a person as much as he did you. He’d listened to you order your coffee a dozen times, your voice more beautiful than any songbird. He wanted to speak to you, but he didn’t want to shatter the perfect vision he’d created for himself. In his head, he broke you over and over again, but you enjoyed it. In his head, you were his, bending to his every will and demand. In his head, you were his perfect girl. But fantasy was always better than reality, and reality never lasted long. He wasn’t quite ready to show himself to you, choosing to lurk in the shadows as you remained blissfully unaware of him.

It was getting harder and harder to stay away from you though. Every day your very presence only fuelled his desires. One day soon he’d have to show himself to you. He just hoped you lived up to his expectations.

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

The study of human social behaviour

Summary: you get kidnapped by Yautja, as well as some other people. You try to escape but in a twisted turn of events, you end up being an aliens mate for life.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, kidnapping, non-con/rape, violence, death, swearing, metion of forced pregnancy

MDNI / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else: read at own risk

Not proof read, English is not my first language

---------- <3 ----------

"I remembered how I was sitting at my dining table, eating.

Just minding my business and trying to calm down from my stressful day at work. But everything changed with a sudden white light illuminating my surroundings completely." I said, looking into everyone's faces. We sat in a circle. On the cold white ground. What seemed to be LED lights shone so bright, it hurt my eyes at the beginning. Now my eyes didn't mind anymore. The walls were empty and cold.

I turned to look behind me. Looked at the big glass where these aliens are probably observing us. "And that's how I ended up here, in this room. That's all I know." My glance shifted right back at the group. We were three women and three men. Some acknowledged my story by nodding, others by just looking at me wide eyed. I was last to tell. Their stories weren't any diffrent. All of them experienced that white illuminating light. And then they were waking up in here.

I have no idea how long we've already been here. But probably not even a day. Neither do I have any idea what these aliens want from us. Or if they would be happy to tell us, if they even know our tongue.

For now we just sat around. Trying to wrap our mind around what we should do. What THEY would do. One guy threw in a idiotic plan on how he would try to escape, which was quickly shut down and discouraged by us. Why? Because we already saw these aliens. We saw how they were built and could easily lift a out of hand human, to throw them out. The guy they threw out was here again, but he was now quiet. I don't know what they did to him. He doesn't tell either.

After a while our conversations got more quiet, less frequent. I personally was frustrated there was nothing to pass time here. Frustrated I still don't know what the fuck they want. I was laying on the ground for a while now. Others laying too, or sitting against the wall. Suddenly the lights dimmed. I jump up and look around. See if I can spot any differences. Nothing. After a few seconds a big plate from underneath the viewing window was brought into the room. On it were various kind of fruits and vegetables from earth. We all looked at each other. Confused. Should we eat it? Is it poisoned? A woman took the first step. "I'm hungry!", she exclaimed. She took a Mango and bit right in it, peeling the skin then, when she punctured the Mango.

Everyone else followed. I did so too, grabbing an apple, inspecting it. I stood close to the viewing window. Out of curiosity I pressed my forehead against it, I could see the shape of these aliens. They stared at me. Noting something in their, what seemed to be, computers. I sat down on the ground. Just like everyone else. We were now gathered around the plate containing food.

After what seemed to be another hour, the light turned even more dim. Enough to see, but significantly more darker. "I have to use the toilet. Real bad", one of the guys said. "Use the corner?" The other guy said. One girl got mad and made a gagging sound "Are you crazy?" "Well where else is he supposed to go? There's nothing here!"

I look up at the window, and point at it. "Maybe we can ask them?" "Oh sure. Please mister or misses alien, give us a toilet." The guy who had to pee said mockingly. The girl that was still quiet since the beginning sighed and said we should give it a try. She stood up. She looked at all of us, unsure if she should really do it. I nodded. The pee guy nodded too. "Toilet! We need a toilet!" She screamed at the window. Nothing happened. I look through the window again making sure someone is even on the other side. Which yes they are. I look at the girl. "Do it again", I said. She screamed again. This time I joined in and banged my fist against the window. The guy who had to pee chuckled and mocked us again.

Suddenly the big plate was taken back. The sound of a motor made us all go quiet. We looked at where the sound came from. We all starred in awe as a new small room in a corner was build. The new walls including a door came out of the big walls. The motor kept whirring until it seemed to lock in. The guy who had to pee stood up and bolted for that room. As he opened the door he screamed out in ecstasy. "It's an actual fucking bathroom!" He slammed the door, locking it and doing his thing. We could hear muffled yelling. "It has a shower and everything, holy shit!"

The girl who was screaming at the window to get a toilet sat down again. We were all still in our spot. And the rest of the room was still empty. We were all in that corner as if the rest of the room is bad. The guy came back from his bathroom break. Sat down with us as well. I didn't know anyone. Not even their names. Would it be awkward to ask now? Whatever. I'll do it. "I'm Y/N."

They looked up at me. Silence.

"I'm Dave", said the pee guy. "Rachel." The girl that screamed but was always silent.

"Maria", she smiled as she said her name. The girl that was disgusted by the 'pee in the corner suggestion'. "Alexander. But Alex is cool too" said the guy who had lost his temper at the start and was taken by these aliens to god knows where but brought back.

The guy who suggested Dave to pee in the corner sighed. "Nick."

"Is that short for anything?" Maria asked. "Nicklas." Silence again. So now we know each others names. I was tired. I layed down. Some others followed soon after. Motor whirring came up again. We jumped up to look. Out of the wall came beds. For everyone one. They were lined up next to each other on one wall, next to the bathroom. We looked at each other again. We slowly stood up and went over. A fight soon came to ensue. No one wanted to sleep right next to the window. "One of the men have to go on that bed!" Rachel stood her ground. "Nuh uh", said Nick, "I won't let them grab me first!"

"There's not even a door there! To be frank the door is over there!", Dave pointed at the other wall, the door was disguised. The wall plate was over it, covering the door. We all know. Because Alex was taken through it. "Nick, they're always gonna be watching us, everyone of us. It doesn't matter." I said. Nick turned to me. "Then go ahead and sleep on this bed. It's all yours."

I rolled my eyes. I looked at it. At all of them. None of them had blankets. Only pillows and a matress. I nodded. "Fine." Since this discussing was over we all just laid down. Alex still sat on the foot end of his bed. Starring at the opposite wall and where the door is. I was too tired to hold more conversation today. And I don't want to push him. So I just fell asleep.

The next day was more of the same. Our day was started by being woken up by motor whirring sound. Another plate with the same food being brought in. But instead of grabbing something everyone groaned and made a run for the bathroom. Some were faster some slower. I stood up slowly. I didn't have to pee that badly. I passed Alex bed. He was still laying in it. Eyes closed. Snoring. He's a deep sleeper. The line became smaller and smaller. And at last we were all gathered around the table and eating. Except for Alex.

"What did he see?" Maria asked. Everyone shrugged their shoulders. Silence. Maybe no one wanted to keep talking about it because maybe these aliens will get mad. Understandable. We left some food for Alex on the plate. As we stood up and went back to our respective beds to sit down on soft ground the motor starter whirring again. The plate with Alex's food was taken back. Since I was closest to the window and the plate I jumped up and grabbed the left overs before it was fully gone.

I placed it at the foot end of my bed. Waiting on my bed for anything to happen. Dave stood up and banged his fist at the window. "We're bored!" Maria rolled her eyes. There was no reaction even after a while. "Ask for something specific." Rachel said. I nod. "Oh! Like a PC or something." We all looked at Maria's comment. "A PC? What would you want with that? I doubt they have earth Internet access or would allow us to use theirs. If they even have that." Dave said.

"Well they do have PCs so I think they might have Internet? But... yeah. Ask for something else maybe?" I said. Dave resumed banging on the window. "Give us paper and pen! Paper! Pen!" Alex was awoken by the comotion. He grunted. "Shut the fuck up!" Motor started whirring again. A table with a chair like thing appeared. Right in the middle. On it, was nothing. Dave turned to the window again. "For gods sake, Pen! Paper!" Another whirring. This time the plate where usually the food was, came with several pencils and a stack of paper.

Dave grabbed a pen and paper. "If you're up for it, let's play some paper games." Not even a minute later we all gathered on the ground playing 'Town, Country, River'.

It's been days now. Painted and written paper was scattered underneath our beds. We requested a few more things. Like music, but it was a Walkman or whatever you called them from the 80s. We tried requesting a movie, all we got was a Disc, but no TV or anything. It doesn't even say what kind of movie or other media it contains. We requested a flashlight because Maria started to freak out when the lights dimmed for the night, which they granted. We requested actual cooked meals. But all that came was questionable looking things. They tried their best but... didn't look to edible. We did taste it. Either it was bland or not cooked through. So we kept eating fruits and vegetables. Yes. We did try to request raw foods, even going as far as to write and draw the ingredients and what tools we'd need, but they didn't do anything. None of them ever came in since Alex little incident. Not until this day.

We weren't sure if they had cameras in this room or not. Or where their blindspots are. So we came up with something. Nick, who had suggested before that we should try and escape, 'invented' the human pile. We would throw ourselves on a pile, laying on the ground with our stomach, basically. So our heads would be looking down at the same spot in the middle and our heads would be so close together we'd maybe have the chance of a camera not catching what we write on a piece of paper. We'd also be stacked upon each other, and someone would have to hold Maria's flashlight so we could see what was written on the paper. Because that's how close our heads had to be. Of course these aliens must wonder and get suspicious what we'd do. So we started out with drawing really weird things like memes. Of course we'd laugh about it. We all hoped the aliens would think we were just doing some stupid human bonding stuff drawing these pictures.

And only in-between we wrote the plans and discussions for escaping. We'd black them out or overdraw them with memes. Just to make sure. Our plan so far? The strongest must pretend that he has a heart attack or something. Everyone else needs to back up against the empty wall and pretend to be scared, where the door is. So when they open it the second strongest and strongest can distract them aliens. But why try to escape? We were here since days. Pretty sure we're on a planet. Not ours but a planet. We can hear no big motor sound that made us think that we were still in space or something. Also the fruits and vegetables changed in shape, size and color that it made us think that these ones are not from earth anymore. They looked more alien yet earthly. Like they've ran out of earth veggies and fruits and now only have their similar stuff left.

Maybe we'd have a chance of surviving out there. But we won't stay here forever. We asked them on how long they plan on keeping us here. What they want. But no answer ever came. They just starred back at us through the window. We're not gonna die here.

The day of the plan finally came. We all kept acting as always. Wake up. Eat. Do something. Nick and Dave worked out, push ups, squats, whatever, trying go get more pumped up for later. Alex was still in bed, not yet getting up, but due to the circumstances fully awake. Maria, me and Rachel on the ground playing or drawing. Rachel then got up. She took some tomatoes from under her bed that she kept there from this morning and started screaming and acting weirdly. The plan has started.

Maria and I got up. Looking at her. The men turned to look at her. We all pretend to be in shock. She started throwing the tomatoes on the window. Taking the table and throwing it against the window. Dave shoved the table to the wall, where he ordered us to go and stay safe away from Rachel. Still the plan.

I felt my heart pumping hard. I am so nervous. This could go so wrong. Suddenly the plates were moved and the door was opened. An alien came in and headed towards Rachel. Dave immediately grabbed the table and smashed it down on the alien. They got into a fight, the table broke so Dave took a piece and hit it over and over again. The alien groaned. We ran towards the door. It was closed. There were buttons tho. Alex pressed the one he remembered the most from the day he was taken. It opened. Just as wanted to slip through the door closed on me and Dave. Dave got stuck between the door. It didn't do much. But the wall plates started moving to shut close. We heard the others scream from the other side. Nick and Rachel quickly taking over and running away with the other two.

The wall plates didn't stop. Dave screamed for help. I grabbed his arm and started to pull him, but his other arm was stuck in the door. He flexed it, twisted and turned it, but it was stuck. The wall finally came to a close. I screamed and looked away as a crunching noise emitted the room. I shut my eyes and held my ears with my hands that quickly let go of Dave. I looked at the ground. My back was turned to Dave. A puddle of blood came close to my shoes. I took away my hands from my ears. Listening if I could hear Dave speak or breath. Nothing. Silence.

I felt nauseous. I felt like I was about to drop dead myself. I couldn't bear looking back at him now. I dont want to see his crushed body. The alien that has been hit layed in front of me. Seemingly unconscious as he was still breathing. Defeated I sat down next to it. I couldn't even bear to sit on the bed now. I heard commotion behind me. The wall plates and door moving to open. Daves body hit the ground, before he was dragged out. When I was sure he was gone, I turned as well. Ther was no alien standing guard. So I jumped up and ran- but the unconscious alien grabbed my arm and jerked me right back down with one motion. He wasn't unconscious. He was pretending like we were. "Please let me go." I said, still trying to pull away but the alien was just too strong.

It got up. Its large frame hovering over me. It was wider than me too. His muscles seemed so large and its grip... two things that showed me that it could crush my skull easily if it wanted to. I was as well lifted up to stand. Another alien, unlike the one holding me, wore white instead of silver armor. The one now standing in the doorframe also seemed to wear more fabric. Was more covered. The one holding me seemed to wear the more basic armor or clothes. So I thought. They communicated in a tongue I couldn't understand. When they were done, the one holding me looked down to me, looking deeply into my eyes. I looked at it back. It's eyes shone yellow, against his dark, almost black and brown shades of reptile like skin.

I couldn't read its emotions. Out of no where it yanked me with it, dragging me god knows where. Are they going to put me down, out of my misery like the experiment animals that we maybe were? I was dragged out of the room, I jumped over the puddle of Daves blood. Feeling disgusted and being reminded about these sounds his body made. I'd never forget that. Hallways and hallways without end. We seemed to get into another testing facility. As it still dragged me, we passed embryos of various types of unrecognisable creatures kept in large tubes.

I didn't fully understand, couldn't grasp on it that quickly. Until we reached a empty room. It wasn't large. Maybe 10 feet in every direction. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked. The alien looked at me. It shook its head no. It could understand me. "What will you do then?" It tilted its head to the side. A deep voice, growling animalistic, started to speak. "Experiment." "Experiment?", I looked at it shocked. It could speak. But what does it mean? "What were you planning with my group?" It took a while until it could form another sentence, like as if it was trying to make sure it was using the right words. "Ooman social Experiment. But now they dead." It said in broken English.

I looked at it wide eyed. "You just wanted to observe our behaviour?" It nodded. "When ooman is entrapped, yes." "And then?"

"Let ooman free again, but oomans tried escape, now dead." My eyes widened even more. "You would have let us go??" A tear ran down my face, knowing we would have made it out alive anyways. "They're dead? I saw them run out!" "We killed." It said almost confident. I looked at it now with confusion. "So why not kill me, huh!?"

"Other experiment. I decide." I tilted my head now too. "Other experiment?" "Yes, but ooman will not get out of this." It said stepping closer to me. I took a step back, trying to create distance, it tried to grab my arms but I quickly turned and tried to get to the door. It did reach it, but I didn't know which button to press, neither did pressing all of them help. Or all of them at the same time, before it grabbed me by the waist, to slam me onto his frontal body. "No escape, ooman", it growled above my head. Not long after it placed its hands on my pants colar. I placed my hands on its arms, trying to get these arms away from there, knowing where this will go. My pants buttons were ripped right off, didn't matter how much I tried to get it away. It then pulled down all of that I wore underneath my waist. Now my bare ass and vagina were exposed to the cold air. One hand was placed right between my legs, cupping my vagina, while it's middle finger started working on my clit. It send out signals to my brain I didn't want. I yelped like a puppy. I saw how it threw a cloth to the side of us. I remember it, it was the cloth between its legs. That was seemingly worn as a type of pants.

I grabbed its arms, that was still cupping and working on my vagina, still trying to push it away, I clenched my legs together, making the feeling and every movement even more intense unwillingly. My yelps have turned into small gasps of air. I leaned back on its chest, looking up on it. "Please stop" I begged. It leaned down, so much so that I was made to bend over in the process. Its hand stopped cupping me. And the other was on my neck, its pressure on my neck and now waist made me arch my back. "Stay." It demanded. I whimpered, but I obeyed. Pleased that I stood still, I felt it part my fold with its fingers. If I wasn't sure if this alien was male before I was sure enough now.

Before I knew he placed the tip of his cock into my vagina, before grabbing my hips and slamming his length into me. A scream left my mouth. A pained one. It was something I never felt before. A girth what felt like almost 4 fingers wide and a length that hit my cervix on the first slam. And from what I could feel, he still had more, that just couldn't fit in. He leaned down back to me, so my back and his chest weren't ever to part. "Mate." He said. He started with a slow pace, i could feel more of his cocks texture. It seemed to have some kind of small knobs on it, on its shaft. My face felt hot. Almost burning. I didn't know where to place my hands, so i placed them on top of his. Almost grabbing him. "My mate." He growled even more as his breath seemed to picked up with his pace. Him hitting my cervix now harder made me squirm in pain, but at the same time it felt good. His pace got even more faster. My right hand traveled to his right side of his hip, trying to push him away, or at least to make him slow down. It was too much for me, as I let my head drop, my eyes roll back and soft moans now escaping my mouth, his pace dropped but his thrusts became more violent, as well as his grunts. Not long after he buried his cock as deep as he could, standing up straight and letting me feel his warm cum fill me, as he still held me in place with his hands on my hips.

I saw it drip down along my thighs, it was a glowing greenish substance. "My mate." It repeatedly muttered. My heart pace calmed down after a while. As well as my body seemed to as well. So he pulled out. "Ah'kun", he said, pointing to himself, before he put back on his cloth covering his dick. He left the room without a word.

I stood there trembling, unsure what to do now. How to even process what just happened or throughout the whole day to be exact. Ah'kun did come back after a while. Bringing another cloth, almost looking like fancy panties, with sumo like cloth in the front and back. He held it infrong of my feet. He wanted me to step in so he could make me wear it? I guess so. So i did. He pulled it up. It was almost a bit too tight. But it should do for now. In the same motion as he pulled up my new panties or pants, he undid my shirt and bra. Of course I tried to go against it, but he just didn't bother. He was still stronger. He disposed all of my clothes with a trashcan that came out by pressing something on an empty wall. Right after he dragged me out. I was now wearing nothing but these weird panties. "Forgot..." He said. Taking a necklace of his neck and binding it around mine. "What is that?" I asked, looking at the necklace seemingly made out of bones. "Shows everyone your mate. My mate."

I look at him. At this point, I wasn't a experiment to him anymore, wasn't I? He took my silence for an answer, that was good enough for him. As we stepped outside into the daylight, we were right. We were on a planet. A tropical one. With what almost looked like aztec pyramids. And it seemed to be normal that these aliens wore only these panties. Even the female ones. Only few wore armor. "Why don't they all have armor?" I looked at him, as he held my hand. "No hunters or warrior" he pointed at the majority that didn't wear armor. "And you?" I said, I looked back and forth at them and him. "I, elite hunter. You have luck, my mate." He started to get confident again.

"Why luck?" "Elite hunter, high status." He said even more confident. His ego definitely stroked. He dragged me down the stairs of the pyramid we were in. The lab pyramid I'm taking. As we stepped out of the shadow, it was even a smart idea of him to remove my warm clothing. Because the sun here was brutally hot.

We were walking for a bit, the other aliens looked at us, specifically me. Some talked with Ah'kun, in their native tongue of course. Giving him proud pats on the back. Was a human mate an achievement? A trophy? Who knows. I don't. We finally reached another pyramid, one of those many. "My home, you live now too, here."

He closed the door behind me. In here, the air was cool again. The decorations and furniture style felt similar to several antique human civilisations, but yet held their advanced alien touch. I looked everywhere. There was even an armor room. Where his helmets and other armor were displayed. A trophy room with several heads of all kinds of creatures.

I kept looking. I found everything you'd expect from an house. Bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room. And empty or barely filled rooms. "What's all the empty rooms for?" "Storage. And little ones." I tilted my head. "Little ones?" He nodded. Did he mean kids? Was I even able to give that to him? What was I thinking. When did I start to be okay with this? This isn't my planet. In that moment it dawned on me. Was this my life now? I started crying. Not just because of the fact that I was here, but because of all of this.

Ah'kun patted me caringly on the back. "You will be good mom, no worry."

[astonmartinii]

pick of the crop | logan sargeant social media au

pairing: logan sargeant x fem farmer!reader

sometimes opposites attract so much that a city boy is willing to get mud on his trainers

based on this request: Logan sargeant x reader smau, where she’s like a farmer in the country, and people are surprised that they’re so different? - @indesicivelyconfuzzled

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 611,209 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: never been so thankful for a two week break in the race calendar, farm time has been overdue.

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user1: did we just unlock the farmer version of logan

user2: real ones have known farmer logan since his f2 days

oscarpiastri: ugh... couple goals i guess

yourusername: you guess?

logansargeant: you wish you were us

yourusername: let's not pit two powerful women against each other

oscarpiastri: thank you y/n

yourusername: i was talking about me and lily, y'all can fight amongst yourselves

user3: you guys are fake as fuck cause why didn't you tell me logan has a gf

user4: a farmer gf ?!?!?!?

alexalbon: so i got heat from you for @albon_pets (follow me) but your gf has a whole ass farm?

logansargeant: and what? dodger would defo take otter in a fight

yourusername: stop the violence

alexalbon: see, this is why people are confused on how you guys got together

logansargeant: i'm just standing up for my dog child ?

yourusername: leave the children out of it

user5: idk how or when this happened but i am enjoying seeing another side of logan

user6: for real haven't seen his feral side since prema

user7: two weeks on a farm will do that to you

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 3,199 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername: the y/ln farm takes the cota paddock, thanks @alexalbon for recommending fifi for the job of paddock drama queen

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user9: she brought a horse for her paddock debut ???

user10: idk about you guys but i am thoroughly enjoying whatever the fuck is going on right now

logansargeant: i think fifi did great (i think dan might be friends with us now)

yourusername: she's a gentle queen (omg we've made friends?)

danielricciardo: damn right you have a new friend what a STALLION

yourusername: you can ride her if you want :)

alexalbon: WE CAN?

landonorris: WE CAN?

maxverstappen1: i would like to ride the horsey

yukitsunoda0511: dan woke me up with his scream of joy so you're morally obligated to let me have a ride on fifi as well

logansargeant: well if i knew all i needed to do was bring y/n and fifi to the paddock to make friends they would've been at miami :(

user11: crying so the reports that logan was feeling really lonely were real?

user12: at least he has y/n?

oscarpiastri: cool kids have already ridden with fifi :)

logansargeant: you screamed the whole time?

oscarpiastri: semantics

danielricciardo: i'm outside williams hospitality let me in

yourusername: that was fast?

charles_leclerc: it's kinda in the job description (we're all here please let us in)

user13: the way all the teams are gonna be like where are all of our drivers and why are they all running away?

williamsf1

liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 610,994 others

tagged: logansargeant, alexalbon

williamsf1: austin you delivered !! logan and alex pick up three and four points each in logan's first points and our first double points finish of the season !!

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user14: someone tell y/n she's not allowed to go home, she's a williams employee now

liked by logansargeant

alexalbon: WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETRE I LOVE YOU AMERICA

logansargeant: 🤨🤨🤨🤨

alexalbon: don't lie you love the bit

logansargeant: no i think YOU love the bit

alexalbon: today i love YOU 😘

yourusername: 🤨🤨🤨🤨

alexalbon: i guess i love you too

yourusername: i would like to think so. don't think i didn't see you swipe a jar of marmalade

alexalbon: GUILTY

user15: williams points, maybe america isn't all bad ...

yourusername: home race did pretty boy so good :))))

logansargeant: idk i think you might just be my lucky charm and can never leave my side again

yourusername: what about the children logan :(

logansargeant: fuck dem kids

logansargeant: JOKES

oscarpiastri: 📸 📸 📸 got ur ass

logansargeant: why are you here?

oscarpiastri: i want naming rights of the next babies ��

yourusername: logan :((((((( they have feelings :(((((

logansargeant: i'm sorry :( i just love you :(

yourusername: awwwwww i love you too

oscarpiastri: so can i name the next babies PLEASE

yourusername: you wanna give logan a tow next race?

oscarpiastri: fuck no

yourusername: then there's your answer

user16: what the fuck is going on here?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,103 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername: there's no such thing as a snooze button here

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user17: FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN

user18: farm logan makes me weak in the knees

oscarpiastri: why are there two pictures of logan?

logansargeant: choke.

oscarpiastri: woah i didn't know comedy was illegal in texas

yourusername: to perform comedy you kinda need to be funny oscar

oscarpiastri: i am funny?

yourusername: sure ...

oscarpiastri: stop trying to look like a nice gf on the internet you make fun of him just as much as i do

logansargeant: she did say that she prefers dermot over 'my ass'

yourusername: LOL sorry logan....

landonorris: am i dumb?

oscarpiastri: yes :)

yourusername: ass is another way to refer to a donkey lando

landonorris: ohhhh. in that case i am a massive donkey

yourusername: oh that's not...

user19: y/n having to deal with more than logan and oscar will kill her i fear

alexalbon: SHEEP PLEASE BRING SHEEP NEXT RACE PLEASE I LOVE SHEEP

yourusername: you good?

alexalbon: i love sheep. sue me

yourusername: we actually host sheep cuddle session at the farm lol

logansargeant: can confirm they are very cuddly (not as much as you)

alexalbon: 1. why thank you logan 2. LILY CANCEL THE FLIGHTS

logansargeant: i was talking about y/n... but i knew you remembered our snuggle on the plane

alexalbon: i'm like an octopus in my sleep, just ask lily or george

user20: please santa bring me a cuddle session with the sheep at y/n's farm 🤞

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 503,776 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargeant: 2024 williams? no. y/n's tractor? YES

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user21: country boy i love youuuuuuuuuuuu eh

user22: third pic is doing something to me that is irreversible

yourusername: lovely lovely cowboy, i might have to ban you from working on the farm cause you're too distracting

logansargeant: saying that as if you don't make collecting eggs look like the hottest thing in the world

yourusername: you looking mighty fine wrangling the cows

logansargeant: you riding a horse makes me go feral

alexalbon: OKAY WE'LL BE ENDING THAT THERE BEFORE IT LEAVES THE PG RATING

yourusername: boooooo you're no fun 🍅 🍅🍅

logansargeant: as if you aren't posting up your feet all over the timeline 🤨

alexalbon: ffs it's just double trouble with you people

user23: only time that driving a tractor is attractive for f1 drivers

oscarpiastri: you guys look like you've jumped out of a trashy romance novel

yourusername: you read them enough to know that

oscarpiastri: what is on my kindle is between me and god

logansargeant: oscar jack piastri leave us out of your smut

oscarpiastri: oh stop being so dramatic, i don't want to know what you freaks do on that farm

logansargeant: and you'll never know. don't think of my girlfriend like that

yourusername: and don't think about my boyfriend like that

oscarpiastri: you people are infuriating

yourusername: we irritating 👯‍♀️

logansargeant: they hate to see bad bitches winning 💅

user24: this relationship is so precious to me

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 31,503 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername: farm update: meet the formooooola one grid!!

yuki has eaten all of my shoes :(

alex has taken station in the chicken coup

charles thinks he's a dog?

max and daniel just snooze everyday under the orange trees

george is always right at the door every morning

oscar and logan are just obsessed with each other and the goats

yes i did name the one with the prettiest coat after lewis

fernando is always sat on some poor soul (usually one of the cats)

carlos and lando chase each other constantly

lance and esteban are chill and just like cuddles

valterri drags zhou to do dumb stuff (they got stuck in a window? don't ask)

pierre demands to be brushed everyday

checo, nico and kevin are the mother hens

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user27: stop the count!!! this IS the cutest moment of the year

yukitsunoda0511: i'm sure cow yuki has a very good excuse

yourusername: i don't have any leather shoes so at least he's not a cannibal?

logansargeant: he did eat my limited edition converse though 🤨

lewishamilton: i simply HAVE to meet cow lewis he sounds like a great dude

yourusername: he's very calm and does love affection

logansargeant: he let me give him belly rubs !!

lewishamilton: that is cute (do not try to touch my stomach)

logansargeant: ... noted

user28: i will never recover from this and need constant updates please

logansargeant: cow me might be obsessed with oscar but real me is still obsessed with you

yourusername: don't tell the others but both you and cow logan are my faves - i love you

logansargeant: awwww i love you too

alexalbon: OUTRAGE

oscarpiastri: ROBBERY

yourusername: oh please ....

logansargeant: you snooze you lose

danielricciardo: awww they can't even separate us as cows @maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: we're bffs in every universe daniel

yourusername: this is very heartwarming

logansargeant: we're still better though, right?

yourusername: oh of course

danielricciardo: ???

maxverstappen1: ???

fin.

note: two in one day? i am on a roll - i hope you all enjoy with me finally writing for logan !! i for one am glad he's getting a second season!

[prismalmelonman]

Touching on Gale, Wyll, and Halsin's traumas being a bit undermined in parts of the fandom

So one thing I notice on Twitter is how some people act about the bg3 characters whose abuses were perpetuated by women.

Gale specifically for this reason (but I will touch on others)bbecause I see him dismissed super often as "can't get over his ex".

But Gale's case obviously be has the line of Mystra being like "she was my muse, my teacher, and then my lover" and sure to some that's a red flag in itself (when it comes to adults I don't really give a fuck about teacher/student) but if you view it from not only Gale's own words "ive been connected with the weave for as long as i can remember"

And that doesn't distract from his genuine love of magic of course. And it also doesn't mean that he's actually been in connection with mystra for an amount of time.

However, if you ascend Gale, and he becomes a god, you get a bunch of new little things. Tara reminiscing of course, but you get a letter from Elminster, detailing that Mystra had Elminster scope out Gale when he was eight!

And sure is that pretty cool that he's a prodigy that got the attention of the goddess of magic at that age? Yes. Mystra is, however, known in forgotten Realms lore to seek young young boys who are in tune with magic to make into her chosen. And from context clues, her chosen can be anything from Elminster and Volo, dedicated wizards who try to keep things in check, etc etc. or they're somewhat of playthings to her.

Minsc also has a conversation where me mentions that weave-touched boys in his homeland were hidden away to hone their craft, then suspecting that it was because of Mystra, given Gale's case.

Gale always seems so proud that he got to bed a goddess, and on the surface, hell yeah, that's cool.

Gale continued to have her attention even as he went to Blackstaff Academy, and Mystra eventually did take him on as an apprentice directly to her, later making him her chosen, and sleeping with him.

The reason it bothers me that people dismiss all of Gale's stuff to just "he can't get over his ex" is because that's is like almost textbook grooming? She was in his life from a young age, shaping and moulding him up as he grew up to be her perfect chosen, rewarding him by sleeping with him, and so on. And then of course casting him away when he has his folly with the netherese orb (and to be fair, it very well could have looked like to her that he was trying to seize the power himself and yes the orb does siphon off weave. That is a problem for the mistress of the weave yes).

But she also tells gale to KILL HIMSELF for her forgiveness.

Gale is much more than "unable to be over his ex" this woman was in his life since he was a kid. She's almost all he has ever known. If course it's going to be difficult for him to 1. Say no to her. 2. Get over the fact that he's lost someone that he spent his literal entire life dedicated to. Honestly if asked, I don't even think Gale would acknowledge or really see that what he went through was, in fact, abuse until it was spelled out in front of him. (Which does happen somewhat with the player character pleading to him that killing himself for mystra's forgiveness is actually horrific and that he should in fact be angry for how he was treated)

Similarly, and this one has been discussed a lot, Wyll and Mizora. Wyll was 17 and actively trying to help his people. 17, in a vulnerable state, willing to do anything to help and prove himself. Mizora very clearly took advantage of him, and regards him as a "pet", refers to him being "leashed", and so on. Personally, I do dislike the sexualization of their relationship, because it very much is also grooming (although a different type. Rather than manipulating and shaping his life from the ground up, she takes advantage of a vulnerable and desperate state to manipulate and contract Wyll into doing her bidding. I won't go too deep I to this one because it has been discussed to hell and back. But I did wanna touch on Wyll's situation as well.

Also, Halsin as well, though that has also been discussed in many retrospectives by a very good friend of mine. Halsin's trauma often get dismissed due to his polyamory, open sexual nature, and his own somewhat diminishing/dismissal of it, which honestly I love the representation of, cause for a while I did that with my own trauma. Halsin was a sex slave to a house of Lolth-Sworn drow, a matriarchal society, where the men are generally used as fodder or for breeding, though male Lolth-Sworn drow can be wizards and rise in the ranks if wizardry, but are limited everywhere else. (Minthara mentions that the third male, and every subsequent male child after third are killed for being"useless"). Halsin often referred to them as "hosts" rather than being captors, (though he does touch on that if the Player Character threatens to sell him back into slavery). Again, everything I'd have to say here for Halsin has entirely been discussed top to bottom by a friend, their link is below!!

Anyway, long story short, I dislike it a lot when Gale, Wyll, and Halsin's traumas and abuses get diminished, even if/when the character themself doesn't see or acknowledge the abuse in the same lens that we, the players, do.

[soulren]

Go spend some time on male pattern baldness or male(AMAB) balding forums/subreddits and such. I did after realizing it is happening to me and the ammount of people who truly don't realize how BRUTALLY it tanks people's confidence and mental health is insane.

There's no cure to baldness by the way, and it can start at any time and there's no way to predict how fast or slow it will go. The only real working option is a daily pill that usually just halts it, but it can stop working or just slow it down or cause major side effects. To regrow you have to use a daily topical solution, or use a roller to wound your scalp. None of these are surefire by the way, and if you stop them you'll just lose your hair and whatever you regained. It's a daily involved thing that might not work and often at best just retains. The best drug, the one that occasionaly gives regrowth, also causes shedding at the start, and can have side effects from growing breasts to brain fog to EDsyfunction(sorry, censoring cause tumblr). Now, those are INCREDIBLY rare and almost never happen but it weighs heavily on the mind of those already spiraling.

But that's just background. What I'm here to talk about is the pure woe you'll see on those forums. People speak as though their lives are over, as though they've lost every chance of finding a woman(predominantly, there's a running idea in such places that women don't like bald men or like them less) or doing anything. You can read countless stories of people who describe that they no longer go outside, are now filled with anxiety and self-hate, have gone from extroverted to never showing their face. And some of these people are kids who lost their hair in high school or even before, or are holding as best they can to a very receded hairline and feel like there is nothing they can do.

And then there's something touched upon far less in those communities, but is important to bring up here; baldness and masculinity. There's the horror of knowing so much of society sees a bald guy as a very masculine guy, at seeing that the best advice for being hot and bald is "grow and beard and big muscles bro". Imagine now you're AMAB balding and nonbinary, or a trans woman who doesn't want to be on hormones.

Just genuinely take the time to look at those forums no matter who you are. Understand what these people go through, what I am currently going through. It is soul-crushing, spiraling, brutal. I have the dream of one day being like Brennan Lee Mulligan or Matt Mercer and starting to lose my hair made me feel like I could never. I felt like and still feel like I would have to be masculine, have to be a bro-y dude, have to look older than I was(I'm fuckin 22). It was the feeling that I could never dress feminine again, never present as a woman when I wanted to again, that I'd always be viewed as a bald guy before anything else.

This is an incredibly vulnerable post for me, and I hope it reaches you all as well in a kind and understanding mood. There's a tendency online for people to joke about baldness, to make fun of it, to treat it as a playfull silly thing but it fucking ruins lives, and it shouldn't. It happens to half the population's sort of bodies and very often. It should just be a neutral thing. You don't need long hair to be feminine, you don't need hair to be feminine. You don't need hair for anything. I guess I'm just saying in general that everyone should be kinder about balding, more understanding, and view it with as much import as they'd view the pixels between this sentence and the next. None at all, I mean.

And for those like me, very feminine guys who wanna keep that and don't want a beard and are terrified of balding, here's some names and I do hope others that see this will add more; Mr. Bruce (also in The Correspondents(band) Alex Ward in LA By Night Jason Carl in LA By Night Cecil Baldwin of Welcome To Night Vale Bob The Drag Queen RuPaul(in looks alone, I know about the whole fracking stuff but this post is about looks) tananasho on instagram Also your mannerisms and style of dress will convey femininity far more than your hair. Yea sure a front-on neutral shot of you may not and maybe you need makeup and stuff, and hell maybe a lot of people might reject you more but it'll just filter down to the people for you.

And to all you artists and writers and creatives; make more bald characters. Try it out. Feminine ones, masculine ones, all sorts. None of the copout nonhuman sort, just dudes and girls and mates and individuals who are all sorts of things and also bald. It might make a few of the people going through the various vortexes of pain that balding causes feel a bit better.

And to those noticing I did not adress female hair loss much here, that was intentional. I am AMAB and currently a nonbinary guy who goes by any pronouns but often likes to present as fem. I learned I was possibly losing my hair and lost two months of my life, no work or going or anything, to male hair loss forums and research and spiraling. Checking my hair twenty times a day, unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think. And my situation was NOT unique, but it also did not give me any experience or understanding of female hair loss and what AFAB people may go through with that, so I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak on it. Also living with baldness WILL get easier and you will find something that works for it, by virtue of simply living with it. Things get easier with time.

[hadesoftheladies]

This might be one of the most important posts I've ever made. (Please Read)

@bakerstreetdocter per this post where i responded to the sports poll i made

on the poll for why folks in radblr didn't watch women's sports, the overwhelming majority of you said it was because you just weren't interested. i needed to make a whole post to respond to this because let me tell y'all something:

WOMEN'S SPORTS IS A HUGELY IMPORTANT INSTITUTION FOR ADVANCING WOMEN'S RIGHTS AND DISMANTLING PATRIARCHY

Let me tell you why.

#1. Sports and Male Hegemony

Do you know what keeps patriarchy so strong? Male camaraderie. The reason rapists and paedophiles don't go to jail, the reason men are paid more, the reason patriarchy even fucking exists is because men invest primarily in men. Sports doesn't just reflect this, it PERPETUATES it more efficiently than most other institutions (like it's right up there with religion and porn). I'm not kidding. Male sports is where men go to bond over everything. They bond over beating up their wives (I've seen it in real time), they gather to celebrate male strength and achievement, and elevate male dominance. The reason sports is so important to the patriarchy is not just because it perpetuates, centralizes and publicizes male excellence, but because it nurtures male camaraderie. It gives them space to be openly "manly," because it is really a festival for male dominance in every way.

Not only that, but it RADICALIZES boys and men in male supremacist ideology. If male peerage is where boys and men slowly corrupt each other with misogyny, men's sports is where that sort of thing is concentrated to the MAX. I'm talking MASSES of men and boys. Uncles and fathers taking their sons to bond over men they believe represent them and their perceived superiority. This has also had consequences for women and girls. Domestic violence rates shoot up during different (men's) sports seasons. The demeaning and brutalization of women is common in these environments.

If you think porn is a huge industry that radicalizes boys and men into becoming rancid misogynists, sports is the next big thing you should worry about, because however effective porn is for dehumanizing women, men's sports is the one most effective for popularizing male dominance and supremacy on a global and generational scale. Forget music and movies, THIS is something feminists should be fucking worried about.

(Read more of this article here.)

#2. Women's Representation, Power & Social Influence

Compared to the crumbs of proper representation we have for women in music, movies and mainstream literature, women's sports centres and normalizes every kind of woman you can think of. Big women, small women, muscular women, single women, masculine women, feminine women, women with wives and husbands, mothers, tall women, unattractive women, cocky women, etc . . .

I have never encountered a visual franchise that humanizes women more than women's televised sports. Never. Not in movies, not on the internet, not in shows. The raw humanity and personhood of women is given centre stage in every angle. We see women sweat, we see women bleed, we see women bump each other in the chest, we see them fight and scrap, flaunt, beg, roar . . .

This humanization has affected not only women who finally feel represented by other women to the world, but even men. Many men and boys who watch sports have far more positive outlooks on women than their counterparts. They are forced to appreciate the skills, strength, intelligence, and personhood of women.

In sports psychology, there's the topic of how people tend to form identities around the athletes or teams they admire. They perceive themselves as an extension of those teams/athletes. This is a very powerful social phenomena, because it strengthens intra-community investment by giving the individual a personal stake and sense of belonging.

It is powerful when men view male athletes and men's teams as an extension of themselves. When mothers take their children to these games and kids identify with the male athletes on the pitch. It is very effective in re-enforcing male-as-default for everyone.

But it is also powerful when this happens for women. When men, women, children begin seeing female athletes and teams as extensions of themselves, it strengthens the perception of kinship with women of all kinds. It humanizes women in an intimate way. Where it's no longer about the "women's team" but about "US." When men and little boys identify with female athletes, point and say "US" instead of "THEM" it lays crucial ground for male allyship.

This is partly why many women's leagues across multiple sports got banned historically. It was because they completely overhauled the idea of women as other and that was a threat to the status quo, because if men started identifying themselves with women, started seeing women's victories as theirs, started seeing women as their heroes, it made male dominance unnecessary and obsolete. It made women heroes for men, women, boys and girls to believe in. It made them leaders and icons. Champions. It destroyed all the lies patriarchy lived off of.

#3. Female Centricity, Community and Consciousness-Raising

I've talked about what this does for men, but I want to zero in on what this does for women.

Right now, in society, men have multiple institutions and industries to boost their camaraderie and male supremacy, whether that be sports, religion, gaming or pornography.

Now, can one of you name a single institution or industry that brings women together to bond over womanhood? Can you name a bonding ritual for women that doesn't include femininity? Most of you will probably only have entities like certain female musicians (taylor swift, blackpink, etc) rather than industries. Currently, the biggest industry that women bond over (and even then, it's not really a social event) is make-up. We're mostly broken up into different fandoms, or maybe we find each other studying certain women-dominated degrees. In most other cases, we're with each other doing something domestic (baby showers, cooking/planning during family get-togethers, etc). (though based on trends, university campuses may soon become women-dominated spaces in totality XD). The domestic sphere is perhaps where most of the consciousness raising has occurred historically.

Unfortunately, the biggest contributor to women's consciousness raising with the most global reach is our shared trauma. That is the one thing that unilaterally unifies women and girls everywhere, and even then, not totally.

While our shared suffering has been a great tool in radicalizing us for change (though it's already an L that we're suffering in the first place), it isn't something that actually empowers the community of women. Radicalization does not equal empowerment. And women need hope and joy to have strength to fight. They need to identify with each other, not simply with each other's suffering. If anything, women are in desperate need of an industry/institution that isn't crippling them with enforced femininity and isn't centred on their misery, but rather, celebrates their womanhood and the joys of being a woman. Centres womanhood. Something that gives them space to celebrate themselves.

The things that do that are the ones fiercely under attack, e.g. women's sports, lesbian festivals, etc. You need to have a hard think at why that is to realize how vitally important things like this are. The difference between something like women's sports and lesbian festivals that gives women's sports an advantage in being the most socially influential, is that women's sports encourages the participation of everyone and posits itself as relevant to all people within the geographic location it is a part of. So it gets more eyes and has more sway.

I have been brought to tears seeing crowds of thousands scream to a deafening degree over a young woman scoring a goal. I'm talking men, women, children losing their fucking minds. Chanting a woman's name from the stands. Rushing to take pictures with her. Cheering for her to break another record. Women need to know there are alternatives to being hated by men. You guys need to know what it feels like to see entire cities show up and show out for women. Where women are glorified, practically worshipped, not for being sexually attractive, not for being the epitome of beauty, but for being skilled, for being amazing women. You need to see women horsing around, unrestrained and free to talk shit. You need to see them acting goofy, without makeup. You need to see them surrounded by love and support no matter who they are. You need to see them having the time of their lives with each other. Real women, doing real things. You need to know what it's like to see a woman do incredible physical feats. You need to see how powerful the female body is. You need to see this day in and day out. You need to know it like you know your name.

Because that's what men have every day. And when I tasted it, I couldn't get enough.

The next generation of girls and women need this so fucking bad. Now more than ever.

#4. The Destruction of Gender

(Portia Woodman-Wickliffe, rugby player for New Zealand)

Which leads me to my next and pretty much final point as to the necessity of women's support of women's sports. Whether or not you're willing to admit it, most of you aren't interested in women's sports because of your gendered socialization.

This could be subconscious resistance (e.g. you're so used to it being mocked you can't fathom getting into it), or it could be simply because of your upbringing and current social environment. I've noticed, that most people engage with sports based on a pre-existing culture concerning sports. Most sons are introduced to men's sports by their fathers, and, as established earlier, it becomes a bonding ritual. Many of us didn't have those experiences as girls, so we never saw the value.

But I think this is also a part of enforced femininity. Right now, some parents don't want their girls watching women's sports because of how unfeminine the women are (and this usually goes hand in hand with homophobia, since a fair share of athletes are lesbian/bi). We're taught to be ladylike. To be demure. Female athletes can rarely afford to be. Even if they wear lashes to the court XD. They have to body their way through. They have to work and scrap and fight for their victories.

It's even more sad to me, since I'm now a very active watcher of women's sports (which I decided to get into on a whim one night, no lie, like I didn't feel like it I just decided to Google random stuff and look at highlights and then I got invested) how crippling that feminine socialization has been to me. How much I've missed. Not only has watching women's sports increased my own pride and confidence in my body, given me a space to experience joy in being a woman (outside of femininity), but it has also made me feel far more connected to women in a predominantly positive way (rather than trauma-bonding). It has humanized women for me, too. Even as a feminist. It's really kicked the shit out of what internalized misogyny I had left.

This is the primary reason women's sports has been so vilified, as I have pointed out in my other post on this topic: it is the loudest anti-gender campaign in society. It destroys patriarchal myths about womanhood and makes femininity and masculinity obsolete. This is why its still resisted today, and this is why it's integral to the feminist fight. Not only does it empower the fight for women's liberation, but it also bolsters movements for things like LGB rights, another movement that seeks to demolish the institution of gender in society.

Conclusion: This Is Urgent

While women's sports is on the up-and-up, female athletes NEED predominantly female audiences to ensure the integrity of their leagues and to minimize exploitation. If men remain the predominant stakeholders in women's sports, they get to demean, belittle, objectify, starve, sabotage and command the female athletes. They get to use women's sports to perpetuate misogyny and the dehumanization of women. At a time where women's liberation is gaining global traction and is heading to a potential climax with patriarchal society, this is something that is vital to our fight. I'm dead fucking serious. It stands to be one of our best assets in the global fight to humanize women. It is one of the best anti-patriarchal propaganda machines we have. We must protect it via our support both financially and with our time. We cannot let men take control of one of the biggest weapons we have. Girls need this. Boys need this. Society needs this.

WE need this.

[imustbenuts]

Wolfwood is an underdog character screwed by social hierarchy and Japanese cultural subtext more ways than one: a messy half-assed write up.

This is me saying that Wolfwood is in no way the equivalent of 'white' or even near the top in terms of class even when viewed with a Japanese lens and there's at least a few threads you can follow that will lead up to that conclusion. So to try and (badly) cover this topic as best as I can, the sections highlighted in this post will be the following

Colorism and imperialism

Tribes and burakumin

Shintoism and the burakumin people

Wolfwood's entire fucking design

I explode

Colorism

So in short. Asia has a colorism problem on top of a racism problem, but people like me get really frustrated when a more American POV is applied to try and shoehorn the discussion into purely racism. The reason is: history.

So. Japan was super imperialist back in history. And so was China, which Japan took many inspiration from in terms of language, culture, and most importantly, governance.

In order for their particular system of governance to work, both China and Japan ended up having their own respective court systems where the aristocrats and nobility would spend their days indoors as they administer governance. (Or more accurately, to be so educated, cultured and refined as the world outside implodes.) Thanks to this system, there is essentially a walled garden system where the well-educated nobles would spend their time well away from hard labor like farming under the sun.

This meant there is a greater amount of favoritism towards fairer skinned people as opposed to tan, since it became a quick indicator of class and status. Bc only laborers tended the field under the harsh sun, and women got this especially bad, bc imagine her having to tends the field like a peasant. Gasp.

Anyway bada bing bada boom white skin eventually became so associated with beauty and status. The old poverb, "色の白いは七難隠す", or White skin covers seven flaws, refers to women with pure white (sometimes powdered) skin is attractive no matter what their physical flaw might be. Think Geishas and their job of entertaining at private events with a face full of white powder makeup.

This colorism also hits men less, but the idea of status stays.

...Wink. (To note the above gif here for a sec: IMO Vash doesn't qualify as desirable purely because he's a blonde. A foreigner. An Other. But the hiding flaws part might be worth chewing on.)

And now we suddenly are looking at some kind of a vague hierarchical system. And indeed, Japan has had a caste system of sorts in with varying degrees of social mobility depending on which era you look at. The lowest in some era were slaves. And even then, there is another class even lower than that, the Burakumin. Put a pin in this bc it'll be important in the next part.

Tribes and Burakumins

There are actually, in fact, different tribes in Japan even today. Current day, the well known ones are the Yamato people, who make up 98% of the population in Japan. Mostly fair skin, black hair. East Asian.

Then there are the Ryukyuans, who live mostly in okinawa with their own culture, and then the Ainus.

I don't want to get even MORE historical, but those two groups were conquered and forcibly had their culture identity, language, and even land stripped off them. Attempted to have loyalty towards the emperor instilled towards them at various points. One might think the presence of these two might mean that there were more tribes back in ancient Japan, and, yes, you would be right!

Many of them might have been assimilated into what we think of as Japanese people today. There are always variation in skin color, hair color and facial features alone if one pays attention even in Tokyo. Not all East Asian are fair skin and have straight black hair, but an overwhelming majority do. (plus hair dyes and perms wahoo. who's to know sometimes)

One example perhaps is this. Ever watched Princess Mononoke? Did you know that part of the story centers around Ashitaka, who is part of the Emishi tribe, who are a group who has been rebelling against the Emperor Yamato for 500 years? And so he shoots samurais on the regular?

So here's the rub: the Emishi were in fact a real indigenous group who were basically conquered and assimilated. Some did resist during the 11th century, with their villages/hamlet out deep into the north of Japan. They were of course, greatly outnumbered.

These people who resisted the rule all over Japan with different identities, names and culture and survived came to be called the Eta 穢多 (lit. abundance of filth). Later, Burakumin.

Now I mentioned the Burakumins. Burakumin are written like this 部落民, and refer to a strongly discriminated class of people who live in discriminated villages/hamlet. The kanji though, literally translates to "People who falls outside of the order", or, "Outcasts". In other words, even though there's a caste system which basically at least recognizes people as part of a governing system, the Burakumins do not qualify to even as to be human in this system.

And indeed, some of these tribes who had their culture and identity stripped off them are not even people in the eyes of the ruling government. Today, the term refers to the descendants of these people, and they do encounter a lot of discrimination and abuse in their daily lives from social to work. It's so bad that parents do not tell their children of the ancestry to avoid discrimination. Also its possible to know if one is a burakumin just by checking family names and registers jsyk, since they were once location based.

EDIT: those judged to be criminals also become part of this group!

More info by a Japanese guy regarding current day burakumin problem here on youtube.

Oh and also, many burakumin ended up joining criminal gangs like the yakuzas. Put another pin in this.

Shinto and the Burakumin people

Preface: shinto is a very sacred religion to many Japanese people and is still actively practiced today. Be respectful and just know I'm being hyper specific about this singular aspect of shinto. It is a very old religion and history which is fascinating.

But to not talk about this specific topic would be to kinda miss what Studio Orange has been doing to Stampede Wolfwood so I'm just gonna do this super quick. A more indepth messy write up can be found here if you like.

Right. So. Like with many religion, Shinto was also used as a means to convince people to fall in line. One thing that Shinto has is the concept of spiritual dirtiness, which is generated upon contact with death, blood and disease. Being dirty would then draw evil spirits and invite terrible misfortunes, so being clean is important in Shintoism. So important that meat was considered dirty. (With the exceptions of game meat and the whole religion thing applied to them.)

It's so important that certain professions such as Butchers, Tanners, Gravediggers etc were seen as so terrible that no one but the etas, the burakumins would do it. This whole thing then reinforces the hierarchy. And meanwhile the rulers in their court and shinto priests could conduct rituals to purify themselves.

And for me, this is the most insane thing since dirty jobs like that must be done no matter what era it is. Just by being alive, people get dirty and there's no avoiding that.

Anyway. In Trigun and even Japanese media, this gets translated into what I would call The Tormented Ones Whose Hands Are Permanently Stained With Blood.

Nicholas the Undertaker was certainly an interesting choice of writing. At least imo.

FUcK

Ok now to recap. I've established that even without colonization and talking about (american pov) racism specifically, there are still very real elements of Japanese history that is too strong, too deep, to intertwined with classism to ignore.

This is the historical baggage of Japan's colorism. Whether or not if Wolfwood is a burakumin here is not the point, but rather that it borrows from that issue all of its influence in varying shades.

It's the erasure of ethnicity and culture in its totality, or to be so consumed by the bigger ruling group that this thread straight up disappears. And to be considered so unwanted that even their descendants today are considered dirty.

They abolished the feudal caste system in the 1800s by the way. Still dealing with like over a thousand years' worth of shit though.

Now I can finally talk about Wolfwood.

Wolfwood's entire character design and writing choice.

Since trimax wolfwood is the base, I'll start with that.

Dark(er) skin, sunglasses, a business suit and a kansai dialect.

All of those are significant.

Now remember that I've mentioned Fair Skin and Black Hair to be the most defining trait of an East Asian. Even people who say East Asian even casually have that specific image in mind. But Wolfwood with the exception of BLR has always been depicted as just slightly tanned especially beside Vash.

The shade fluctuates all the time depending on the artwork, but it's clear that the production staff knows the roots his character design is touching on in order to elicit that "otherness" from the Japanese audience. Which is all that above. The entire post.

Sunglasses and business suit also has a significance. One might think it's just the outfit of an average Japanese salaryman, and yes, that would be technically correct. More so though, this combo is also the outfit style of the Yakuza. Sans ties maybe bc Ww hates his organization.

This is a picture of a Yakuza group known as the Yamaguchi-gumi. Their leader stands in the middle of this photo, the oyabun/father of the group, Kuzuo Taoka. More info and another rabbit hole here.

The Yakuza are a historically violent criminal gang whose membership often consisted of societal outcasts. Outcasts like the Burakumins, who due to their status in society could not find a proper job, and suffer abuse. Being in the Yakuza meant respect and status, and turned boys into men.

All that was needed is absolute loyalty to the leader, the oyabun or the patriarch of the group. If he says it, white is black and black is white. Disloyalty means to chop one's finger off.

If any of this sound even familiar.... Well, yeah. Unhinged criminal boss Knives and his merry Gung Ho Guns.

Next, kansai dialect. So, Japanese dialects are never properly taught when one attempts to learn Japanese. It's a thing that's not Standard and therefore unnecessary to learn. We learn the -desu's, -masu's, the keigo, but never the '-yan's', the 'eenen', the 'akan' or the chau's. (Or even the many other dialects out there)

I will now ask you to hold the idea that 'dialect' and 'language' can be interchangeable. The implications of the Standard Japanese is that it is the ruling class' language and the most proper form of it above all else. Seeing as the Capital of Japan is Tokyo, and their government centers there, it would not be stretch to also call Standard Japanese Tokyo Japanese.

Which means, Tokyo is the classy city and Osaka, the largest city in Kansai, is not as classy. Not as important. Not as well educated or hold as important of a place to the entire country.

It is also very common to hear Japanese people mask their dialect with Standard Japanese when they're in Tokyo, and then go back to their hometown and code switch. Because it's considered 'hick'.

Which, if you haven't considered is also a thing many of us do, I now present you the gift of this fun knowledge.

I Explode

In closing I hope this at least is interesting to chew on for anyone interested. It's by not means perfect and I might have gaps in my knowledge but fwiw, I hope it's at least fun.

Nightow has stated Wolfwood's ethnicity is ambiguous, which I would also interpret as him saying indirectly that Wolfwood is as valid an interpretation to see him as anything but a privileged guy having a good time in the story of Trigun.

It's possible that his ambiguity of roots is meant to simply elicit the idea of a "stolen child".

One fun thing I do consistently notice is that Fanon Wolfwood almost never is in a comfortable position in life even in AUs, and always somewhat broke. In both EN and JP. Which, yeah. Yeah.

There is intersectionality going on and I hope this post helps people see some of it at least. So thanks for reading! (sorry it got so long...)

Additional cool posts other people have written from their pov:

udon-tea's write up about wolfwood's unestablished canon ethnicity

interesting thoughts about tortoise matsumoto being the base and what they think of wolfwood's possible ethnicity

[solaiced]

consume(d by you)

context. Gojo was your high school crush, and now, he's a soon-to-be clan leader. Shocking, right? Yeah. What's even more shocking is the fact that he chose women to be his wife, and you're one of them. So, now, you're going on a date with him. Your crush. And also the most powerful sorcerer of this era.

content: food sex (at the end), clan leader gojo, au, first date sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it up) and mutual pining.

word count: 7,7k (woah!)

solace: well this is fucking long..! enjoy people. also, for the sake of the no yn rule, your last name is hino. and if you saw mistakes, no u didnt.

To be honest, you've never seen yourself with a husband.

So, when the elders told you that you must go on a date with the Gojo Satoru so that he could choose a wife, you refused.

Why? Simply because it was impossible for you to even fathom being married to your high school crush and ex-friend.

Not that you were close, you just didn't want him to laugh at your face in the middle of the restaurant for even thinking you had a chance.

The elders’ response? Go immediately or you will be put on a death sentence. And since you had just gotten your Grade 1 sorcerer title, that was not in your to-do list. You still had stuff to do.

So, for the date, you put on your best attire. You had dolled yourself up a little, hesitating on mascara because you wouldn't be caught dead with black tears rolling down your cheeks. His teasing would obviously have that effect.

But you did it anyway.

You went for a simple black dress, decorated with lace and bows. It stopped at mid-thigh, which was modest enough but also cute and had a square cut.

When you stepped out of your house, a black limousine was parked in front of your street. The driver rolled down the window and ushered you in.

"Miss! You're late, please hurry up, we do not want to anger Gojo-sama!" He moved his hand frantically.

"I'm sure a few minutes won't be that bad." You tell him and settle in the backseat. You didn't remember him to be angry all the time.

He was usually laid-back and didn't care if some things were amiss. But you never knew, maybe he was more stressed, which caused him to lash out a lot.

You pulled out your powder-mirror and adjusted your makeup, ignoring the driver's pale face in the rear-view mirror.

A few minutes later, you find yourself lead to a table where a jittering white-haired male you once called a friend sits.

His eyes light up when you approach and he gets up, opening his arms. You find yourself in his arms quicker than you should've.

"Long time no see! I see you've gotten... not taller, that's for sure..." He snickers.

You frown.

"You've gotten wider." That wasn't supposed to be a compliment but he flexed his biceps and smiled.

"I know, right? But you're just as cute as before." Your cheeks burn at the compliment.

"Thanks, I guess." You take a seat in front of him.

"So," he starts, sitting as well, "do I call you Hino-chan or can I use my nickname for you?"

Ah, that damned nickname. Sugar. You don't know why he gave you that nickname, but he started calling you that the moment you talked to him.

"I don't know, 'Toru, can you?" You tease and smirk, leaning on the table with your elbows. He smiles sweetly and passes you a menu card.

"Well, thank you, Sugar, for accepting to come here. I heard from the elders you didn't want to at first." He purses his lips and flags the waiter.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" You give your order to the waiter and Gojo waits tor the latter to leave betore answering,

"Well, I chose you, of course. You're not the only one but you're my first choice!" He chuckles, then stops. "They didn't tell you?"

You shake your head.

"They told me they chose me to be one of your dates for you." You pout slightly. “So you chose me, huh?” You chuckle and his cheeks pinken.

"Listen, if I was going to be stuck with someone, l'd rather it be someone I know and like, you know?" You nod and he pours himself water.

You smirk, getting an idea. An opportunity to tease him was never an opportunity to pass up.

"Still a lightweight, 'Toru?" He chokes on his water and frowns.

"So, what? You gon' shame me?" You smile sarcastically and lean further on the table with your elbows.

"Maybe I will. How are you a grown man, 27, right, and still don’t drink alcohol. Grow up, baby." You giggle, but he knew you were joking, of course.

Afterall, being friends and almost dying together during your high school years would surely get you guys to be closer. It's not like he would ever take offense.

But when he flinched at the last word, you started questioning whether he had changed over the years.

"You okay, Toru?" You put your hand over his, the latter holding the stem of his glass.

He nods shakily but steadies the next moment, "I'm fine, Sugar."

He lets go of the glass and intertwines his fingers within yours. "You worried 'bout me?"

You splutter and shake your hand out of his grasp, "W-why should I? You're obviously fine, now."

He hums and grabs your hand again, “Hey, don’t go, I like your hand, it’s comfortable. I like the warmness.” He squeezes, grinning ear to ear.

"Yeah, and I'm about to sweat, soon." You squeeze back, snickering.

"I don't care. You forget if I choose you, I get to see you naaaakeeed~, so this little ‘inconvenience’ won't embarrass me unless it embarrasses you." He drawls, snapping away from you the moment the waiter comes back, but the after-effects of his words still make you flush deeply as you give your orders again, this time for dishes.

When the waiter leaves after you stutter out your choice, you turn to him with a frown and a stern look. "What do you mean 'if you choose me’, do I not have a choice?"

He nods, "When you accepted to come, you are obligated to follow me if I were to choose you. I wouldn't try to refuse." He shivers forcefully and grins, tucking a strand of you hair behind your ear.

You swallow nervously and nod back. I knew I shouldn't have come, you thought.

"You won't choose me, then?" You stay hopeful, maybe, just maybe, there's someone better. But alas, when he smiles innocently, you know you're done.

"You're the best one l've had this week. And also, the last one." You drop your head in your hands, seeing the last of your freedom taken away.

He lifts it up by your chin, pouting.

"Do you.. not want to marry me?" He sounds... insecure. But that's impossible!

The Strongest could never be insecure.

Right? Yeah.

"It's not like that, you're an old friend, I shouldn't even think of marriage with you, and I'm too young to marry!" You almost yell, covering your mouth as soon as the words tumble out clumsily.

He releases your chin, clicking his tongue, "Please, do this for me, I won't even care if you want a side chick or.. side dick, I don’t know what the male version is, I just need someone I'm comfortable with and someone I can hold a conversation with.”

“You don't know how much women I've heard talk about daddy's money, Chanel bags or whatever... They don't even know what work is!" He sighs, exasperated.

You smile nervously, looking around and settling your gaze back to your fiddling tingers, in your lap.

"Listen... I don't want to be stuck in a loveless marriage, I feel like... It'll end up badly and..."

"I'll give you everything you want. You won't ever need for anything. Hell, if you have a lover, he can come live with us. I don't care, please, Sugar." He cuts you off, almost whining your nickname.

He had his hands clasped together, pleading with his eyes, when you had looked up.

"Satoru, you don't understand. I don’t even want to marry right now. If I marry you, I'll be obligated to c-consumate our marriage the night of our wedding... and I'll have to get pregnant. That’s the most terrifying part.” You confess, words spilling out the lips Gojo liked to watch wrap around kitchen utensils and food.

You hear him sigh. Not all of it was lies, you truly wanted to find someone to love, and you want him, but you knew he was impossible to reach. Like an insect trying to touch the sky, you knew you’d never be able to do it.

It wasn’t self-deprecating, it was common sense. Everyone knew only a Goddess could fit a God like Gojo Satoru. It was only a matter of time until he found someone his level.

You hear your name, softly uttered as if it were spoken a decibel higher, it would chase you away. You lift your head, meeting his darkened, blessed blue eyes. He was stressed, you knew it.

The dimple at the edge of his smiles, normally always present, had dimmed, it was slightly terrifying.

“Satoru, are you okay?” You made sure to shut up the moment the waiter came back with the food, smiling softly and thanking him.

And when he left, Gojo, who had been marinating in anger at the waiter and also at the fact you smiled at that bug, stared at you, devoid of any emotion.

“W-Well?” You stood your ground, picking up your fork. Mentally, you were panicking. Gojo never showed you that face, not even in battle, always a smile on his pretty face.

“Hm? What?” He strains a small smile on his face, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He tilts his head, a strand of snowy hair falling in front of his left eye, you reach to push it back. He smiles more genuinely and you lean back.

“You looked… scary. Like… I almost pissed my pants.” You joke lightheartedly, looking down at your food as you start to dig in.

“Oh? Well, I was… just thinking.”

He, too, starts to eat.

“Oh, you can form thoughts?” You both snicker, before you get serious, “no, seriously, what were you thinking about?”

Gojo chuckles, swallowing his food, “thinking about how he gets you to smile so easily. Even if he’s a stranger and he’s just serving you.”

“Who..?” Then you realise, a frown forming between your eyebrows. “Gojo.” He stiffens, mouth wide open to welcome in a salad leaf in.

He hated when you said his last name.

“That’s a waiter… I’m nice to him because his job is hard…” You sigh, shaking your head.

“Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

“No.”

And the night continues, lighthearted banter but a certain tension filling the air.

When you two are done eating, he leads you outside after paying, his coat around your shoulders due to your shivering.

“Listen…” Gojo whispers, unlike him. He was so arrogant and excited all the time, you couldn’t fathom he could even be so nervous.

“I know I was pushing, but I still have a bit of hope.” Oh. He was still trying.

“Satoru-“ He presses his finger to your lips.

“I… Ugh. I recently learnt from Shoko that you used to have a crush on me back in the day.”

The world stopped. How could you trust Shoko with that secret? Obviously she would let him know. They were close friends.

“S-Satoru, wait, that’s from before- I-“ He shuts you up by pressing his lips to yours, hands cradling your head. Uncaring for the lipstick staining your lips. Uncaring for the fact you were standing in front of the restaurant.

He pulls away, gasping for air, just as you are. You’re stumbling over your words as you try to make out what this kiss meant.

“Need I tell you the obvious..?” This is the first ever time you’ve seen him so nervous. But instead of being helpful, you nod. You have to be sure.

"I had—have a crush on you, too." He sighs, not looking into your eyes to avoid your gaze.

Your whole world stills.

WHAT.

The Satoru Gojo had a crush on you? You? Of all people? You were barely Grade 1, average looking, seriously, your personality was the only thing making you likeable.

“Satoru, are you sure you’re not drunk? What did you drink?” You reach out to rub his cheek, he grips your wrist when you make contact, leaning into your hand.

“Sugar… who is Satoru? I only know Toru.” He chuckles, “I only drank water tonight. But… do you still have feelings for me? Or will I die of embarrassment?” He whines dramatically, frowning and leaning into your hand like a cat.

“S-Satoru… I never knew—“

“Now you know, please tell me, I’m getting nervous…”

“I… well…”

He droops visibly at your hesitation, dropping your hand.

You nod, looking away, still trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If this is a prank, you’ll never live it down.

“Wait, really?”

You sigh, looking back up at him, putting both of your hands over his cheeks, pulling him closer to kiss him.

You close your eyes to not get more embarrassed, it felt like your own cheeks would burst if blood filled them more.

Gojo hums, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

When you separate, although it was extremely difficult for Satoru to do so, breath was his body’s default need, but you were his only need.

“You can tell me now, is this a bet with Suguru and Shoko?” You insecurely look down, shuffling out of his grasp.

“W-What—why would you think that? I would never! I genuinely think you’re the one for me, I can’t imagine to with someone other than you. Please.” He whispers your name, soft and gentle, cupping your hips and bringing you closer, as you had moved away in your shuffling. “Please accept to be my wife. If I’m not fit to be your husband, I’ll give you everything so that you can forgive me and—“

You shut him up by to wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him with more eagerness and force than the earlier kisses.

When you withdraw, Satoru chases your lips, holding you tightly to him.

“More—“ He huffs, cut off by your hand.

“Satoru, we’re in front of the restaurant.”

“Then, come home with me, I’ll make you stay with me. I swear. You can take all my money if I don’t live up to your expectations.”

His voice is muffled behind your joined fingers, lips stretched into a smile.

“Is this a scheme to get pussy?” You deadpan, crossing your arms.

He gapes.

“Never! Why do you guys all think the worst of me. First, Shoko, then, Sugu, and now, you! I thought we were a team!” He whines, encircling his arms around your neck and gently choking you. Just gently.

“Ugh– Toru, you’re killing me!” You push against his chest, mouth wide open to pull air inside your lungs.

Gojo had other plans as he kisses you again.

“Satoru, we need to leave, where’s your driver?” You pull back, huffing.

“I came here by myself. Do you think I’m a bum who doesn’t know how to do anything else but fight?”

You scratch your head and look away, humming an unknown tune.

“You, of all people, should know otherwise…” He grumbles, turning away and crossing his arms.

You chuckle, putting your hand on his lower back.

“Joking. Why did you not let me drive, then?”

“I had plans for us.”

“And if I didn’t accept?”

“Then I’d cry.”

You coo, reaching to scratch at his undercut.

“Poor baby.” You drawl, giggling at the end.

“Your baby.” He corrects, smug as a bastard.

“Cringe.”

“Enough, let’s go to your new home.” He smirks triumphantly, walking to his car and opening the passenger door for you to get in.

“How gentlemanly.” You say as you enter, making sure to not lifting your ass too much for Satoru to see. But you know you fail when you hear him whistle. You knew he’d do that. Perv.

“Ugh, zip it.”

“I’m just checking out the goods I’ll be getting.” He shrugs, making sure you had no limbs outside and shut the door.

He climbs in the other side of the car, reaching for your belt to secure you, face dropping when he sees you had already done so.

“You let me do nothing, do you?”

He groans, pulling away to put his own belt on.

“It’s a habit, I’m sorryyy~” You draw out the last letter.

“Whatever.” He fake sulks and starts the car.

A few minutes later, you arrive at the Gojo Estate, marvelling at all the side houses and beautiful scenery.

You had already visited, but it was still the same reaction all the time; you, mouth agape and eyes wide with wonder, next to him, smug and guiding you by the hand or, rather, waist, now.

“Welcome back, Gojo-sama.” A servant near the main house’s entrance bowed lowly and respectfully.

“Hi Atsuya.” He greets and lets you enter first.

“No one’s home except for the servants. We’re alooone~” He whispers into your ear, pecking the outer shell of it.

“Jesus, Toru, don’t do that.”

He hums, guiding you to his room.

As he opens the door, you realise very suddenly how rich he was in comparison to you. He could probably buy you, and it wouldn’t make a difference in his wallet.

“Do you need anything?” He gestures to the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’ll wash up a bit and then I’ll come back.” You nod and head to the bathroom.

You didn’t actually need to go. But you did need to calm yourself.

I mean, when was the last time your crushes had actually acknowledged you? Never. So, better be ready.

You hear your name and perk up from the sink.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

Awh. He’s worried.

“Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.” You wash your hands and dry them.

Then, you open the door to go back to Gojo.

Except, you didn’t expect the Gojo Satoru, Strongest sorcerer of our time, in the Jujutsu world, to be unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing drool worthy abs, pretty pink nipples and miles of pale skin.

Your first instinct is to say sorry but you remember he’s supposed to fuck you, so you steady yourself and walk over to him, helping him with the buttons.

He smiles, “thank you, sweetie.”

“It’s not for you, I just wanna look closer.” You look up, a smug expression on your face. You place a warm hand on his pec and look down at his chest as your hand smooths over his abs, ribs and near his happy trail.

Gojo exhales shakily, gripping your hand. You look back up, questioning him wordlessly.

“Would you believe me if I said I’ve waited for so long?” He drops his head, swallowing nervously.

“Only if you believe the same for me.” You giggle, but they sound more like breathless huffs.

“God, I can’t wait to have you.” He kisses the side of your neck, holding your hand in one of his, the other resting on your hip.

You flush, and Satoru releases your hand, exploring your body with his to find the zipper behind you.

He groans when he doesn’t find it, “Sugar, where is it?” You tilt your head confusingly.

“Where is what?” You question, but realise the next second. You reach for the dress’s straps, pulling them down to reveal yourself.

You had a habit of matching underwear with the outfit you wore, which led to you using your lacy black set. It was the only black underwear that was clean.

Gojo gapes, choking on his spit and almost looking away bashfully, instead looking down when your fingers hooking in the waistband of his underwear to pull down.

“Fuck…” he exhales, throwing his head back to try and make sense that this is you, the one he always had a crush on since your freshman year and his sophomore year of high school.

“You’re already reacting this much, and I haven’t even touched you. How will you react when I suck you-“ He cuts you off with a calloused hand to your mouth.

You lift your eyes to meet his. His flushed face combined with swollen lips due to being bitten, is a tragic view.

He’s so ethereal, it’s impossible to have even imagined that he’s got a crush on you, of all people.

You were so sure there were women with more chest, butt and-

“Sweetie, if you start to doze off on me, I won’t be able to fuck you.”

Satoru interrupts your daydream about him.

His face is closer, still flushed and he now sports the handsome grin he always wears.

“Tch, don’t get too cocky. I’ll have you crying.” You retort, grinning as you shove your hand in his boxers, paling at the girth. It was barely hard, too.

“Well?” He crosses his arms. The fucker knew he was big, too.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You feign boredom.

But you lied. It was everything you couldn’t naturally handle. You wonder how pornstars take such big dicks.

Because the next moment, he pushes you onto the bed, almost tearing his underwear off in his haste. He halts at your lacy set, pouting.

“Here’s a little bargain, sweetheart.” You perk up, eyes glazed.

“You let me tear off this stupid barrier,” you frown, crossing your arms. “And I’ll buy you whatever you want to replace them.”

You hum, interested in the deal.

“Who am I kidding? You’re going to be my wife, for fuck’s sake.”

And without warning, quickly unclasps your bra and rips off your panties, making you gasp.

“You jerk! Buy me everything I want— ah!” You shiver at his breath hitting your bare pussy.

“Satoru- wait!” You try to grab his hair but he was too fast, shoving his face into your core, moaning loudly like it was one of those atrociously sweet candies.

“Mmhfuck- sweetheart, you definitely knew about this.” His voice is muffled behind your folds, licking and sucking like your cunt was a lollipop.

“Toru, wait!” You grip his hair and pull him off, drawing out a low whine. Like a child getting candy taken away.

“Let’s make a bet.” You huff, leaning up on your elbows. He listens and sits back on his heels. He always loved to compete in useless things with you.

“Whoever cums first is a loser.” You sit up, grinning and putting your hands on his shoulders to help yourself onto him.

“Oh? Then it’s easy. I’d win.” He snickers, moving to put his head on the pillows to put you on top. You are secured by his hands on your waist, tightly grasping.

“Nah, I’d win.” You grin, moving to face his hardness full on, it still shocks you, but you put on a brave face and put your knees on each side of his face, presenting your mound to him.

Your face flushes, planting both hands on his thighs, gulping and kissing the tip to start. He twitches and you smirk, touching the underside of his tip with your tongue.

He shivers and shoves your hips down on his mouth to stop himself from getting distracted, moaning in ecstasy at your touch and taste.

You hiss and start working him up, licking from base to the slit on top and wrapping your hand around it, squeezing and jerking it off as you start to take him in your mouth.

Your jaw is aching when you take an inch or two in, swallowing nervously as it starts to rapidly approaching the back of your throat, humming in apprehension, which makes him twitch and moan in your pussy.

“Mmfuckk,” he licks your clit and suckles on it, kissing it sloppily. You grunt around his dick.

You drop your head another inch, taking it in like a champ and groaning, moving your hand up and down where you can’t reach.

He groans and plunges his tongue inside your cunt, slurping like it was his last meal and he was starving.

You moan and begin to move faster, bobbing your head and hand in sync to make him cum first.

“S-slooowww doowwwnhhh..” he hums in your pussy, shaking his head with his tongue lolled out, moving your clit left and right and stimulating it like a goddamned vibrator.

Unfortunately for him, you do the same, albeit unknowingly, because the mewls turns into vibrations on his tip and he spills inside your mouth with a loud cry, wrapping each arms around the upper part of your thighs and pushing you impossibly closer to his face to try to not make too much noise.

You suck harder in victory, keeping the cum inside your mouth while his poor weeping cock spurts more until it overflows and makes you pull off, cheeks full of semen.

You hum, almost purring in satisfaction.

Turning around, you try to remove your hips off his head, his strong arms around your thighs too tight.

You gulp down, begrudgingly, the salty and bitter taste running down your throat as you try to move, “You lost ‘Toru, let go’v me.” You grumble, wiggling your ass off.

“Nnnoooo, ‘m gonna wiiiinnnn…” he whines, tongue out to lick your exposed clit, determined to make you cum.

“I won! ‘Toru, let me get off, ffuuuhhhhckkk—“ your back arches as he sucks up your slick, making you dig your nails into his hips, thighs shaking.

“Let mhhhhheee make you ccuuuuhhmmm-“ he cuts himself off and pulls on your clit with his teeth. Suctioning it, soothing the pain and licking, slipping his tongue inside, grunting.

Fuck, he’s actually good, you think, as you bite your lip to restrain most of your whines, leaning further on his face, and slipping off his chin before he brings you back on it.

And finally, the coil in your stomach releases, and so does a scream of Satoru’s name out your mouth.

Flopping down on his chest, face near his erection.

…

He’s still HARD?

HOW?!

“‘Toru-“ you lift your head as he licks his lips, savoring the slick that glazed them, you suppress a pleased hum.

“Fuck, you’re good…” he mumbles, irked that you, his sweet little high school crush, managed to make him cum before him, the world renowned strongest sorcerer of this modern age, and self proclaimed squirt king.

It crushed his ego and he wanted to hide forever. Between your thighs, preferably.

“‘Tooooruuuuuuuu, stop hiding, I won.” You finally get off, changing directions so you face him, smirking as you straddle his lap, mindful of the biggest dick you’ve seen in your fucking life.

He huffs, hiding his face in the space between his elbow and arm. From what you can see of his face, he’s blushing, probably embarrassed.

“Don’t be like thaaaat, ‘Toruuuuu,” you chuckle, moving his arm away, “it was fun, wasn’t it? There’s no shame in being sensitive, don’t worry.”

Your grin could not be wider, he thinks, but it’s beautiful. He wraps his hands around your waist, grumbling under his breath about your eagerness to see him defeated.

“Don’t be a sore loser, ‘Toruuu.” You drawl, pecking the corner of his lips, cupping his cheeks.

He smirks, “it’s fine, I guess…” as he’s trying to move you downwards, but you catch the movement earlier than he could do more.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” You question as you grip his wrists, he smiles guiltily.

“You didn’t think we’d stop there, did you?” He cocks his head, like a cute, little clueless dog.

“At least give me a break, you unstoppable force.” You huff, pushing against his chest to slide further on his lap.

“Hooooh—careful.” Gojo slithers his hand to your lower back, pressing your core to his. He smiles like he just stopped you from falling, like a gentleman.

His gaze, however, was anything but gentlemanly. It was more like a bunny in front of a wolf. A prey in front of a predator.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanna eat me or something.” You huff, crossing your arms as you balance on his lap.

“Cause I do.” He laughs, leaning into you seductively. You push your hand against his lips when he gets too close.

He snaps his eyes open, frowning.

“I literally just swallowed your cum, you don’t want it.” You explain, removing your hand to place it on his hip.

He leans in again, too fast for you, as he cups the back of your head to push you into his tantalizing kiss.

He moans, trying to make you open your mouth, and hums softly when you do.

When you both pull away, Gojo lifts your right leg up, determined to have a second round.

“Wait! Wait! Put it in slowly, ‘kay?” You stop him, pressing both hands on his thighs, behind you.

“Uh-huh…” He nods absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the way his tip hooked inside your hole. He looked surprisingly mesmerized.

“I’m serio-ah!” You inhale sharply as he begins to push in, slowly, as you said. At least he took that into account.

“Ffffhuuck, fuckfuckfuck-“ He mumbles, closing his eyes and huffing loudly, almost whining.

Satoru pushes the tip in, but you already felt like you were going to tap out. You were Grade 1, sure, but in your ability to take dick, you’d be Grade 4. He was too big for your liking.

“I feel like…” He swallows harshly, breathing erratic, “you’re going to tear, uh-“ He pulls out, leaving you bereft and whining.

“Where’d you go?” You open your eyes, when had you closed them? and find him looking at your pussy like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hold on, I’m gonna help you.” In all honesty, you were painfully tight for him, and he didn’t want you to get hurt.

So, as a remedy, he shoves a long finger into your pussy, spit coating it. You hold a yell, opting to dig your nails into his shoulder, leaving red crescent marks on his perfect pale skin.

“S’toru, slow it down!” You grit your teeth, shutting your eyes tightly.

He looks up at you, pressing sweet kisses on your lips, smiling at your expression. Right as he adds a second finger, your legs shake in effort, sweat coating your skin.

“Almost there, just one more, ‘kay?” He hums in your ear and gifting you little rewarding kisses to your face.

You nod, feeling your insides get looser, relaxing your muscles to ease him inside.

“God, hmmfh…” You open your eyes as he adds a third one, eyes trained on his fingers plunging inside of you. Your head tips backwards.

Suddenly, you feel empty, looking back down to see Gojo pushing his cock inside, his hand shaking as he lines up to your cunt.

“Agh— ‘Toruu!” You grab both of his shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips, trembling.

“Relax, please, please relax-“ he whines, putting his forehead against yours.

Did he just whine?

Your mouth opens, ready to tease him, however, you eat your words as he accidentally shoves more than half of his dick inside you.

A scream rips through your throat, swallowing his cock with your pussy.

“I got you, I got you, hnnggh.” He drops his head in between your neck and shoulder, tickling you.

“You’re so tight… ‘m gonna dieee.” He whimpers, nibbling on your skin. How could the Strongest ever die from pussy?

“You’re ngh-ot gunna- oh, die!” You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer.

He begins to trust in shallowly, grunting like a wild animal, inhaling in between huffs.

He detaches himself from your neck, rubbing his lips to yours, a stray tear falling down his cheek.

“Aha, ha- you’re crying, you big baby.” You huff as you kiss his tear away. He sniffs, shutting his eyes.

“Don’t make fun of meee-hnngg..” He nuzzles into your kiss and tries to capture your lips within his.

You share a heated kiss, full of love (spit) and passion (teeth clashing against each other).

Each thrust sends you backwards, that Satoru fixes when he brings you back onto his cock.

You perk up when you hear your name, uttered so softly you couldn’t have heard of you didn’t listen closely, “can I put it all in?”

You look down, and eyes widening comically when you see only three fourths of his dick was inside. You swallowed in fear and anticipation.

That’s a whole monster there. Couldn’t he have at least had something that wasn’t good?

“I’m perfect in every way, obviously my dick would be big.” He snickers when you realize you said that out loud, pushing against his chest the way you did when he teased you, back in high school.

“No you’re…” You breathe in harshly, “bad at fucking me.” You snicker, regretting as soon as he shoves his dick all the way in, in, in, does it never end?

You moan loudly, sure to be ashamed of the aftermath later. But Satoru will deal with it for you.

“Shh, the walls aren’t, ugh- that thick!” He shudders, dropping his head in between your breasts with a loud whine out of his throat, teeth gnashing against each other to keep his noises in check.

You manage to huff out a laugh, but lock your legs around his waist, mouth dropping in a silent moan, the thrusts getting deeper and more desperate.

A nibble on your nipple breaks your haze, clacking your teeth together.

You grab Satoru’s hair and pull him off.

“What’s- what are you? A baby?” You scold half heartedly, mewling when he swipes a calloused thumb on your clit, your grip loosening.

“Y-yes—fuck!” He nods, dropping his head back into the comfort of your chest, his moans vibrating within your ribs. “I’m your baby, right?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you feel as if Satoru was your lifeline and you had to keep holding him to live. You had both sets of limbs around him, arms around his neck and legs around his hips.

Thrust-thrust-thrust, it was a seemingly never ending process, of his thumb rubbing uneven patterns on your clit and licking your nipples like they were a lollipop. Whimpering, even. Never have you even fathomed the Strongest whimpering in front of you.

You giggle, breathless and on the edge of a moan. His eyes contort in confusion.

“Fuck you laughing for?” He grumbles, licking up to your neck, dragging the tip of his nose to tickle you.

“Never mind, I’ll make sure you forget how to laugh by the time I’m done with you.” He pulls out to the tip, his fingers forming a V around your almost red cunt to watch how it forms around his tip as he pushes his dick back inside, where it belongs.

He returns inside your arms, snuggling you as he wraps his around your waist to bring your pussy down on him, making the both of you cry out in spine breaking wails of pleasure.

“‘Toru, you bastard- at least warnaahhh-“ You shudder, gritting your teeth as he presses his thumb to your clit.

“Shut.. up, or I’ll cum.. too fahhstt..!” He closes his mouth but still the noise in the back of his throat still makes its appearance, making him whine loudly as he wills himself to not cum too fast. It would embarrassing for The Strongest to cum before his beloved, right?

“Can you just, c-cuhhhmm! Ah-already?” He complains, his eyes crossing and tears spilling down his red-streaked cheeks. You couldn’t believe yourself, but you thought he was cute.

“F-fuhck, please, ‘Toru, slow- ngh- down!” You pull on his hair, gasping for air. Unfortunately, he heard ‘don’t slow down’ and heeded to the non-existent words. In all honesty, you were going to die from too much dick, and you didn’t really mind.

He somehow picked up on the speed and went faster, sealing your efforts to walk tomorrow.

Suddenly, a low growl slices through the air, you open your eyes, when had you shut them? to see if your Satoru had turned into a monster mid way through sex, only to see his embarrassed expression, red flushing his face and not in the way that was pleasant.

“Was that you?” You ask breathlessly, wondering where the animal was, because you certainly didn’t feel hungry after all the food you ate at the restaurant.

“That’s.. my stomach. Pretty sure.” He buries his face in the space between your shoulder and your neck, panting at the movements he was subconsciously making with his hips.

“D’awww, is baby hungry?” You tease, scratching his undercut playfully, or as a way to comfort him. He slowly pulls away, a noise of discomfort working up both of your throats.

“Shuuut it. I’m getting Atsuya to get me some food.” You frown, grabbing him by the ear, to which he winces, moaning in pain.

“What does that mean? You’re leaving me for food?” You twist your hand slightly, making him cry out.

“Wait! Wait! Just let me do something, trust me!” He swats your hand away, pouting.

“Tch, if this is a ploy to ditch me, remember, I know your parents.” You warn, pushing the tip of your finger against his smooth and plushy pec.

“I won’t! Be right back.” He smacks a sloppy kiss on your lips, biting the lower one and rushing to get a bathrobe before heading to the door, yelling out some orders and coming back with a plate of… certainly not filling food. Whipped cream, cherries, even chocolate sauce and… candy. Various ones.

“What.” You deadpan, pushing a pillow between your thighs to avoid being indecent in front of servants.

“Well, I’m gonna eat on you.”

“Didn’t you eat a whole ass menu at the restaurant. I’m gonna kill you.” Satoru’s eyes widen, quickly putting the plate down and all but ripping the pillow away from your thighs, diving right into it, no prep.

“Satoru!” You cry out, your thighs straining to wrap around his head tightly, unfortunately, his hands were too strong, keeping them apart so he could eat his ‘appetizer’.

“Fuck, stop moving, I’ll get you in a better mood, I promise, Sugar.” He whispers, quickly shoving two fingers inside your mellow cunt, moving in and out in the most frustratingly fast way possible. You had to admit, he was damn good in bed.

You shudder, an orgasm electrifying your every being, with his stupid harsh tongue and fast fingers, he was making you cum in almost less than a minute.

He cleans you up, licking every fluid out of your pussy, sucking and slurping, the noises were abhorrently loud.

He pulls off, grabbing the whipped cream to spread it all over your chest, the coldness of it making your nipples perk up.

You jerk, hissing and trying to swat his hand away but failing when he plants his head in between your breasts and licks his sweet cream off, leaving red hickeys where he sucked particularly harshly.

“Satoruuuu…” You slip your head under his bathrobe to help him get it off, he lifts his head, dazed.

“You’re so beautiful, I could cry.” He mumbles, his tongue white from the cream.

“Don’t say stuff like that.” You scold, looking away as you feel a rush of blood through your cheeks.

He chuckles, getting off to take off the bathrobe, throwing it in the unknown corner where your other clothes reside.

“Itadakimasu.” He clasps his hands together, chuckling, then grabs your hips, bringing you down on his monstrously big cock. You could’ve sworn you felt like you were having sex for the first time again from how it felt, like you were being teared apart.

Your hands instinctively tangle themselves in his hair, bringing him closer. He huffs, his tongue lolling out to lick the rest of the cream left of your boobs, whining as his hips push flush against yours, your pussy lips stretching to take all of his freakish length. It was too big to be normal.

Satoru whines parts of your name, kissing down your neck to your chest, licking occasionally.

Your head tips to the side, swallowing a whine as he starts to touch your clit, rubbing weird patterns, but you wouldn’t complain when you’re this close. He already took this away once, you wouldn’t let him take it away twice.

“Su-Sugar, fffuck! What’s wrong? Hey?” He searches your face for any discomfort, wondering why you were spacing out all of the sudden, he follows your gaze, his eyes zeroing on the plate of sugary treats. He tilts his head cutely, wondering why you would look at that while he was rearranging your guts.

Meanwhile, you got an idea looking at the whipped cream and stem-plucked cherries.

“Would you… oh lord, turn over, let me ride you. Please.” You look away from his scarily bright blue eyes, eyeing your every move as his Six Eyes scan you for any wounds or tearing or anything that could bring you harm.

“Ohhh-kay…” He shifts, lifting you gently to straddle his lap, pulling you in softly.

The change in angle makes you wince, to which he panics and searches you for anything that could’ve hurt you.

“I’m fine, Toru.” You whisper his name in such a delicate manner, he wondered if he had broken anything in you. However, you get off of him, making him sound out a long whine out of his throat.

“Where are you goin’?” He blinks literal tears away to watch your blurry figure reach for the whipped cream and shaking it to thicken it.

“Do you trust me?” You ask him, approaching like a predator having found its prey. He nods hesitantly.

“Let me eat whipped cream off of it, and I’ll let you use me, trust me.” You promise, removing the cap off the bottle. You then kneel between his legs and tip the cream down to the tip of his length.

A wail rips out of his throat when the cold whipped cream touched him, his hands already pale from grabbing the sheets with such force, you’d think he used Lapse Blue to strengthen the hold.

“Cold, cold, cold! Fuck! You evil woman!” He shivers, you snicker, putting the bottle away and wrapping your hands around his cock to warm it.

Satoru’s mouth drops in a low moan, his hands struggling to take control of the situation despite his trust in you. You silence him quietly.

“I got you, don’t worry. I’ll warm you with my mouth, baby, don’t cry.” You coo, snickering at his hiss. Putting your hair behind your ears, you lick the cream and hum pleasantly, the taste sweet but not enough to deter you.

You lick all of it off, tongue swirling around Satoru’s tip as he whines, hips bucking up. Your name works its way up his throat, dragging it the last syllable.

You smile, taking more into your mouth as he chokes on air and sniffles. He looks down, a small frown between his eyebrows. You look up inquisitively, humming around the appendage and he jerks, shoving it all in and gagging you.

“Hhhgck!” He pulls himself off and cups your face.

“I’m sooo sorryyy, sweetie, let me make it up to you.”

“W-What?” You gasp when he hooks an arm under your knee, presses his tip to your entrance along with his lips to yours as he pushes in roughly, your noises silenced by his earlier act.

Your hands, however, were spared, as you scratched and spread up and down his back, to his undercut.

“Fffhuuuckk..” Satoru whispers against your lips in a desperate manner, a stray tear slipping on his cheek.

You wipe it away, giggling breathlessly, said breath getting knocked out of you each time he thrust too hard.

His hands roam the expanse of your hips and waist hesitatingly, not knowing what and where to touch.

He resolves himself to grab the chocolate sauce and pour it over your chest again, closing the lid and dropping it on the bedroom floor.

Licking all over you like a child tasting a lollipop, he hums in absolute pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips move with a mind of their own, his fingers messing with your clit to push you over the edge.

By the time he had licked you clean, you were cumming a second time, mind blank as you clenched hard on his cock, and Satoru felt like you were cutting his dick off.

Satoru whimpers your name, eyes shut and hips moving on instinct with his fat tip smashing against your g-spot, now that he knew where it was.

"I'm... gonna-!" He groans, biting around your nipple and leaving a mark that probably won't heal for a week at least. His resulting moan vibrated you to your core, and you probably climaxed again, but the sensations were starting to merge together. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

When you blinked back your consciousness, crying, out of pleasure of course, Satoru had already slumped in between your breasts tiredly. For once, his eyes weren’t on you, closed in exhaustion.

Your hands carded through his snowy hair gently, it’s as if you didn’t even feel his still twitching cock on your thigh.

“Sugar.”

“Satoru.” You respond, eyes closed as you recuperated. You feel him shift around on your body.

“You love me, right?” He plants his chin on your sternum, pouting up at you.

“Of course. Do you love me?” You open your eyes, your tone almost accusative. Satoru looks almost indignant, like you had ask him if he killed his best friend.

“Of course I do! I love you so so so much,” he squeezes you close to him and smacks multiple wet kisses on your lips and on your cheeks. However, he looks into your eyes with a small drop of guilt once he’s done.

You narrow your eyes, “what did you do…”

“Nothing, just,” Satoru sighs, flips over and drags you with him to lay you onto his chest. “Can we go again? I’m still hard.”

“You’re shitting me.” You look down, and to your horror, he wasn’t lying.

“Can we?” He looks so hopeful, so innocent as if he wasn’t asking to rearrange your guts more than he has already.

“No.” He whines and pouts, settling on wrapping his too-big arms (when did he start getting so buff? He was a twig in high school!) around you.

“I’ll ask you tomorrow then.” Satoru winks his cerulean eyes at you, attempting to flirt.

“You better not.” You already know you’re going to cave in. You predict it.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Meetings On Window Sills

masterlist

note: I fucking love 60s-70s music so there's a lot of it mentioned, and also remus is a full blown music nerd so why would i not make them bond over music?? also this was inspired by 2007s Jump In! starring my first crush: corbin bleu lol

warnings: didn't edit (don't care), little tiny bit of angst between remus and his dad, smoking, remus having back problems since 11 and a city boy, reader has hair long enough to put in a claw clip

word count: 3.8 k

♡ summary: Many don't know that during summer, Remus goes home to a muggle girl, and he spends more time on his fire escape than in his room some days

♡ Remus Lupin x fem!muggle!reader

request ✗

1971

He’d known her his whole life, well since he was 6 months old. Their mums had both gone to the same ‘mommy and me’ class and hit it off when they both took a smoke break. Since then their mums had noticed they didn’t have much in common and grew apart, not after buying apartments in the same building.

Remus stretched his back, hands on his waist while leaning back, just having done all his folding, getting ready to organize in his trunk. As he stood from the small single bed in the corner he heard the soft hum of music coming from outside, the young boy lifted his widow, needing much more force than when it was made. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” 

Remus looks to her widow, seeing the record player playing on her desk while she reads, not seeming to be doing a whole lot of that though. From his view it looks to be Little Women, which he had read and which he would never tell her, but he had been bored on a visit to his grandparents before they died and that was the only book in his moms childhood room, so he read it and enjoyed it enough to finish and not have much of a critic.

“You always sing that song much louder than the rest.” 

His sudden voice caused the girl to jump in her seat, putting the book down and turning down the record she looked at to him, slightly embarrassed at him catching her. 

“It’s my favourite.” She said moving to sit on her window seat. Remus of course noticed this as a sign that she wanted to continue the conversation, he also noticed the way she played with the bottom button of her cardigan. The boy exited his window onto the fire escape to sit on the window sill.

“It’s The Beatles?” “Yeah, my mum got it for me for Christmas last year. Along with George Harrison’s solo album, ‘cause he’s my favourite Beatle- he actually wrote the song I was singing.” She knew she went on a little too long but Remus wouldn’t stop her, that was the type of person he was, kind hearted. When he listened to her, he really listened, he heard every word and took it in.

“Because he wrote your favourite song?” “Not just that, but I guess that’s where it started then I looked through all my albums and all my favourite songs he wrote.” She briefly pointed behind her and he saw the self of records behind her.

“What ones?” He asked, getting more comfortable by leaning his back on one side of the window frame.

“Umm, I’m happy just to dance with you, and of course here comes the sun.” “That’s me mum's favourite, tells me every time it’s on the radio.” 

The conversation stalls, to avoid awkward stares Remus looks down to the street and watches a man with a yellow jacket cross the street, it glowing in the yellow street lights. His stare only breaks when he hears her voice ask, “What’re you packing for?”

“Oh- That..” Her brows furrow at the nervous tone, he wasn’t sure how to tell her, it wasn’t like they were best friends, they talked once in a while like how they are now and would see eachother at school, “I wasn’t sure how to tell people, I’m going to a different school next year.” “Where?” “It’s a boarding school up in Scotland.” “Why are they making you go?” 

Remus would be lying to say that didn’t surprise him, she sounded like she would miss him a little more than he thought she would, and that deeply confused him.

“My father went so-” It’s interesting how much truth he could say while withholding the biggest piece of information from her.

“That sucks. Aren’t you going to miss your friends.” “I never had many friends.” Overstatement. He had no friends, never really did, kids at school made fun of his scars, or for being a nerd, or for having second hand clothes that his mother still had to sew to be wearable; take your pick really. 

“Not many people like me.” “I like you.” Remus’s head lifted from its stare at his swinging legs, “As- as a friend of course.” “Of course, I like you as a friend too.” 

-

1973 

As soon as he walked through the door, Remus set on the way to his window, leaving his trunk at the door. 

“Hun! Where’re you going so fast?” His mum asked, placing the keys in the bowl by the door, and putting her hands on her hips. His father made his way past her to the kitchen.

“I missed my room!” He yelled, never slowing down the hall. Once they believed he was out of ear shot, he heard his father say, “He wants to see Jen’s girl.” 

As he got closer to her window he saw the girls laying on her back legs up resting on the wall while she read. Her head snapped to the window after the first knock, a large grin making its way to her face. She rolled off her bed and opened the window for him and he heard the tune of Bowie flowing through the room.

She crawled half out the window to hug him, her arms going around his neck and he held her back, his hands felt warm, his embrace felt safe. He wore a thin jumper that felt soft on her skin.

“I’m so happy you’re back.” “Me too.” They say, pulling back and getting comfortable on the window sill. She was still smiling at him, and him at her, before Remus felt he had to look away or he would explode. He took the moment to look at her room and it had changed quite a bit since last summer; bed against a new wall, something she did when she felt she needed a change. He noticed her vinyl collection had grown.

“You finally got Ziggy Stardust!” “Oh yeah!” She jumped off the ledge they sat on and made her way to put it on. 

“I went with some friends to London and we got to go to a huge record shop. Remus you wouldn’t believe the stuff they had there- they had Bob Dylan’s first album so my collection of his is complete.” “Brilliant.” Remus sat down on her window seat bench and grabbed the album from her shelf to get a closer look. With the Bowie record set up, she nudged the volume dial up before returning next to the boy. She hit his leg to get his attention, “Listen to this first one it’s my favourite.” 

He put the Bob Dylan album down to give his full attention to the music. 

Many hours later, the two were still perfectly content listening to album after album, pausing their conversation when a particularly good verse came. They were now on the floor of her room, the girl laid out on her carpet flooring, looking just as carefree and stunning as ever. 

“Joni next?” She said as the album playing came to a close, before he could respond they heard a knock on the window, it was his dad.

“Bit late, innit? ‘S past one, Remus.” “Sorry, Mr. Lupin, we lost track of time.” “‘S alright, dear, but come to bed Remus.” “Okay.” 

His father went back through the window and waited. Remus stood the floor and stretched his back, the girl stood as well, “Tomorrow?” “Yeah.” “G’night, Rem.” “G’night.” 

He joined his dad out on the fire escape as they made their way back to his room, once they got inside and closed the window his father broke the silence. “I know you like that girl, but you’ve ‘ot to keep her out of this world, especially with what you are.” 

And just like, an otherwise perfect night, ruined by one comment by his father. 

“I know.” “Alright. G’night, son.” The door shut behind him, and when he heard that click he let the tear drop.

He knew from his friends that  some people don’t care, they found out this past school year and he still hasn’t told his parents that fact. But for all his life he’s heard otherwise, and he can’t help but think one day the boy’s will come to their senses and leave him all alone again. Y/n though, a muggle, if he ever told her he can imagine that  best case scenario is him having to use obliviate.

-

1975 

Remus retreated to his room after dinner, wanting to sleep or read or something that didn’t involve more people, it had been a long day even before he got on the train home for the summer. As he grabbed the book on his desk he saw a trail of smoke leading to a certain girl’s bedroom, he leaned forward to see her with her glasses on, smoking a cigarette, and wearing mismatching pajamas.

He lifted the window with ease, causing the girl to flick her eyes back to him, “You're back.” “Same time every year.” Both shared a look with smiles on their faces, the girl broke eye contact to grab her pack of cigarettes, and overing him with one.

“Yeah.” He climbs out the window and comes to now sit on her window sill and takes his own cigarette, she grabs the light from behind her and he lets her light his. Her fingertips brushing against his check as she blocks the blooming flame from the soft summer breeze.

He takes the chance to gaze at her lips, wrapped around the cigarette, residue of lipstick left behind, a soft red. She never needed the makeup, but sometimes if he woke up early he could watch her put it on. A moment that he found she looked the most beautiful, practiced movements, mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to, and the funny faces she made made him smile. 

“I missed you.” “Yeah?” A smile creeped on his face as he looked into her eyes. “Yeah.” “I missed you too. I always do.”

The girl looks away, a smile on her face, unaware that Remus continues his stare looking from her eyes to her smile and the way her hair falls in its clip. She wore a thin olive green tank top, he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra so he moved his eyes to the clouds she was looking at. 

“How’re your friends?” Sometimes she felt as though she knew the boys, with how much Remus talked about them, her mind began to wonder if they knew as much about her as she knew about them.

“They’re just the same pricks they’ve always been.” “James got any farther with Lily?” She muttered, flicking off her cigarette and taking another puff, she looked so beautiful and natural. She had glasses that fell down her nose, messy hair that she liked that way, and a laugh like no other.

“Lils would like me to say ‘no’, but I think she likes him a lot more than she cares to share.” “That’s the way it always goes.” She trailed off, to look at him and he was already looking at her.

It was second year Remus became friends with Lily, they were paired up for a project together and became close. At first she was jealous of the girl, she felt that Lily was going to take her spot in Remus’ life, it weirdly enough was when she heard of James’ fondness for the ginger girl that she no longer worried. Well that and the fact that Remus never did anything to insinuate that he was any less friends with her because of Lily. 

And what she didn’t know was that half of the time he was with Lily, he ended up bringing up her.

-

1977 

Y/n was waiting all day for Remus to come home, she never left her room the whole day in waiting. Looking to his window every ten minutes in hope she would see her lanky boy crawling out his window.

It was late in the evening when she came back from the bathroom and immediately went to check, she almost didn’t believe her eyes when she saw the lamp beside his bed on. The girl shrugged on her cardigan that was lying across her desk chair, and crawled out the window.

Remus had just gotten back from a nice dinner with his parents, this was his last summer as a kid and they wanted to make it special from the beginning, especially since next week he was going to spend a month at the Potter’s. 

He was interrupted from changing by a knock on his window, he turned on his heels to see the girl he’s been waiting all year to see. Her smile lights up his face, she looks away and it takes him a moment to realize it’s because he isn’t wearing a shirt, clad in nothing but pajama pants gifted to him by Peter. He quickly slips on a jumper before he opens the window and she stumbles into his room. 

“Hey.” “Hi.” They each silently take this moment to get a look at eachother, the girl noticed that she could see that scar on his chest end just where his jumper begins, it’s surprising that she could know him since they were babies yet doesn’t know when he got that scar. To be honest she never asked about them, she could tell he was insecure about the way he looked, though in her mind there was no need to be.

During this Remus is having his own thoughts about her looks, she was wearing that cardigan she’s had since she was ten, underneath was a tank top like she commonly wore. Her hair was up in a clip, the same ones Mary always wore, small pieces of hair falling out. She was beautiful.

“Urm.. How have you been?” The boy asked justering for her to sit as he took a seat on his bed. She joined him, leaning against the wall and pulled a carton of cigarettes out of her cardigan pocket. 

“Good, yeah I’m good. You?” She replied, feeling around her pockets, “No lighter.” He stood from the bed and went to his dresser drawer, retrieving the pink lighter and throwing it to the girl, she caught it with ease yet didn’t begin to light.

“Is this the lighter I gave you?” 

When they were fifteen, they first smoked weed together, at a nearby park in order to not get caught by their parents. And Y/n, high, had given Remus her lighter when they had climbed back up the fire escape to their windows and told him, “This is my favourite lighter. I don’t know why? I think ‘cause it’s pink, so that means it’s lucky- ‘cause the lighter is lucky it’s pink and not some boring lighter like yours- No, you know what Remus? You should take this one, ‘cause it’s luckier and prettier than yours. But keep it safe, it’s my favourite.” 

That night Remus put it in his sock drawer to keep safe, he never wanted to use it or worse lose it, so he kept it safe just as she asked.

“Um, yeah.” He mumbled, a little embarrassed at the amount of sentiment he put into that cheap lighter. 

“You kept it?” “Yeah, you told me to.” 

He becomes even more embarrassed when she chuckles. She looks down at it in her hands, her chuckle dying down and smile slips. There's a moment of silence as Remus doesn’t know what to say so he just returns to his spot on the bed next to her. She doesn’t look up at him still as she asks, “Why did you keep it?” 

Truthfully Remus does know why he kept it, it was just because she gave it to him, but if that sounds lame in his head it will most definitely sound lame if he says it to the girl he likes, no love, he’s always known he loved her. So once again he’ll chicken out and doesn’t respond.

She waits for his answer, and when it never comes, “Is it.. For the reason I think?” She boldly asks, looking at the side of his face as he has not looked away from the spot on the wall in front of them. 

Another moment, and the beautiful girl tries to get his attention by leaning her face in his line of vision. His gaze is unnerved, he’s too consumed by the thoughts running in his mind, until they all go silent.

She presses a kiss to the side of his mouth and says, “I like you too.”

Head snaps to look at her, eye to eye, nose to nose, and finally lips to lips as Remus presses a hard kiss right on her lips. She immediately begins kissing back, and trying to take control but to her surprise Remus is a lot more comfortable in his actions now and is the one leading the kiss and pushing his tongue between her soft lips, which she gladly accepts.

The girl trails her hand up the inside of his thigh before skipping up to hold his jaw, Remus at the same time grabs her hips and squeezes, causing Y/n to swing one leg over his and straddle the boy’s lap. Her hands fall from his jaw, to his neck, to his chest and pushes him away lightly.

Both slowly allow their eyes to open and look at eachother, smiles mirroring each other. 

“So-” “Boyfriend girlfriend?” “Yeah, that’s cool.”

-

1977

“I’ll get the Bowie album, then we can listen to it when you get back.” “When’s it coming out?” “October.”

The girl replied, her head lying on his bicep as she played with his hand, drawing shapes and tracing his veins. In his other hand, resting on her stomach, Remus held the book he and Lily decided to read over the break for their informal book club. 

Y/n thought about asking what she’s been wanting to ask since they’ve gotten together, “Are you going to come home for Christmas?” The last time he did was fifth year, last year he had gone to his friend James’ house. And from what he told her, he had the best time, so you can see she was a little worried he would do that again and she wouldn’t get to see her boyfriend till next summer.

What she didn’t know was that Remus was hoping to avoid this at any cost, it was a full moon this christmas. So even if he did come home, he wouldn’t even get to see her much.

“I haven’t thought about it.” “Oh.” Damn, wrong thing to say. She thought about it. She asked him. She wanted him there.

“I mean- I would love to come home and see you! I just- I don’t know if-” “What?” 

She saw the hurt in his face, she knew whatever he was thinking about he was trying to push down and resist it, she sat up and sat crisscrossed facing him. She leaned down and grabbed his hands, gently taking the book out of his hands and marking the page by folding the corner.

“What’s wrong, Remus?... You can tell me.” “That’s just it- I can’t, or rather I shouldn’t.” “Okay, now I’m confused.” She scoffed, shaking her head and standing up to get some space, “What can you not tell me. I tell you everything.” 

Remus sat up, leaning against the wall on his bed, head in his hands, thinking about everything. Everything he ‘couldn’t’ tell her, if he couldn’t trust her he believed he couldn’t trust anyone ever again.

“Okay, you have to believe me though, and it’s going to sound like I’ve gone mad. So just remember that I know how absolutely insane I sound, and that I’m still telling you because I trust you. More than anyone.” Met with slight hesitance, Y/n replies, “Okay.”

“I’m a wizard.” He waits for the big reaction that never comes, he stares at the confused face of his girlfriend before he stands and goes to his bottom desk drawer and grabs his wand.

“Levioso.” The boy says, pointing at his record player and directing it as it levitates, before ultimately placing it back in the same spot on his dresser. When he looked back at the girl, her jaw opened in shock. 

“Holy fucking SHIT!... That just- in air! You are!” “A wizard? Yes.” “How? I mean- you- what?” 

Remus came to her side, guiding her to sit with him on his bed, “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’ve got more.” “MORE?” She looked towards him, concerned for what was to come.

“Yes. Okay, I’m also a werewolf.” “If I didn’t know you, or see that pissing record player float- God, I’d think you were too far gone.” Her words were a relief, causing Remus to chuckle, but truthfully a weight lifted off his chest, to have the most important person in his life to not judge him, “You have no idea how much that means to me- I’m the same Remus you knew, you just know everything now.” 

-

1977

“So I werewolves are real, what about vampires?” “Yes.” “What?! Am I going to have to worry about them?” “Don’t visit Romania.” “That’s not funny.”

They laid together, well Remus laid done while his girl moved every few moments, very excited about the new world she was learning about, at this moment she sat on the boy’s thighs with her legs straddling them on either side.

“What’s your favourite subject in school? For real, now that I know you don’t actually take English.” “Defence against the dark arts.” “That’s a class?” “Yes, a very important one.” He replied, moving his hands up the girl's thighs, from her knees to grasping her hips. He keeps his hands there, squeezing when he feels like it.

“What’s your least favourite?” “Flying. But I haven’t taken that since first year.” “WHY would you hate flying? That’s the dream.” “I don’t like heights.” “But you’re FLYING! Through the air!” “Really? Well, now I’ve got to rethink things.” “Oh, shut up.” 

Remus was laughing now, and he could tell she was trying hard not to. He pulled her down to him, keeping her there with his hands on her back as he attacked her cheek with kisses, “Ah!” 

The small scream falls on deaf ears as Remus continues kissing her cheeks to her jaw and burrows his head to the crook of her neck. He mumbles something she can’t quite hear, but she can just barely make out the word ‘love’. But still continues to fight him off, “Ah! Rem- tickles!” “Don’t care.”

[hoosbandewan]

No matter who someone votes for does not make them a bad person. If someone votes differently than you and you find that as a reason to not support them then you are part of the problem. I'm thankfully open-minded and glad I can have Democrat and Republican friends and we can all still be friends even with different beliefs and opinions. I don't understand how anyone can have that mindset.... You want Peace and love but are the first ones to throw someone under the bus if they think differently than you do.

And using Ewan to push your thoughts is shameful

Having friends on both sides of the aisle is fine. Having a difference in opinions is fine. I think it can be incredibly damaging for people to get caught in an echo chamber and be surrounded only by people who share their same viewpoint. And the fact that we can all have our own thoughts and opinions is what makes a free country like the U.S. so wonderful.

I even know a good number of Republicans and conservative-leaning people who didn't and wouldn't vote for Trump. And, you see, that's the difference.

Voting for Trump.

You cannot, in good conscience, look me in the eye and tell me that casting a vote for Donald Trump makes you a good person. I could have forgiven a Trump vote in 2016, but not in 2020 and certainly not in 2024.

Trump attempted to overturn a democratic election and was indicted for it. And on that day, he voiced support for the Capitol rioters who wanted to hang his vice president for failing to reject the electoral votes that proved Biden's win.

Trump nominated Supreme Court justices to overturn Roe v. Wade, a move that has already killed women and will continue killing people. In Texas alone, the maternal death rate rose by 56% between 2019 and 2022, the year that Roe was overturned. Since the reversal, the infant mortality rate has risen by 7% nationally - and by 13% in Texas alone.

Trump is unapologetically and unabashedly racist, displaying repeated and disturbing rhetoric aimed at immigrants, Mexicans, black Americans, Haitians, Muslims, and more. In his first term, he instituted new procedural barriers to prevent immigrants from seeking asylum in America. He put migrant children in cages. He has unjustly called for the death penalty for numerous people of color - remember the Central Park 5?

Trump has threatened to deploy the military and law enforcement to target his political opponents and left-leaning Americans.

Trump rolled back almost 100 policies focused on clean air, water, wildlife, and toxic chemicals in an era when mitigating climate change is more important than ever. And he plans on gutting even more.

Trump is a convicted felon with 34 felony counts under his belt.

Trump has shown time and time again that his views and policies align with fascist ideals. He wants very, very badly to turn the U.S. democracy into an authoritarian regime.

And if this isn't enough, Trump has been endorsed by the KKK since his 2016 campaign. He's the golden child of white supremacists and white nationalists everywhere.

So, yeah. If this is your guy, I don't want fucking anything to do with you.

I am so sick and tired of Trump supporters crying about peace and love and civility and "oh, but where are the tolerant left?" when they turn right around and vote for Donald Trump.

You don’t get to hold abhorrent views and beliefs and then be friends with us. You don’t get to be friendly to our faces all while supporting a man who wants us dead or oppressed. You can't profess to love your fellow Americans if you are condemning them.

I don't want to hang out with racists and fascists. Because if you choose to support and vote for a racist, fascist, misogynistic, dangerous person, then that makes you one, too.