#most people aren’t gonna give a shit about the mistakes

[beardedhandstoadshark]

AI art is bad:

It's trained with millions of artist's drawings without their consent and on top of that it's used for profit. There’s even AI art NFTs 🤮

They‘re the same people. Ai and nft bros, that is. Always have been. Same pathetic attempts at justifying themselves, too. And general gleefullness in exploiting people who actually do something with their lives. (Drawslaves, isn’t that a cute word?)

No to mention the whole thing getting funded by giant corporations (Those oh-so-holy open source generators aren’t as "community“-driven as they pretend to be =) )

Gonna be fun when they realize they won’t be able to sell these images anymore either because they overflowed the market like they did nfts. The jobs are still irreversibly fucked, but at least there’s that I guess.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

can you please write something angsty about dally helping out darry after discovering how stressed he is or maybe finding him crying

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, but here it is. Gonna tag @chained-sweater and @johnnyburntcake because they both asked to be tagged when it was finished after reading my out of context snippet. As with most of my stuff this is unbetaed so sorry for any mistakes or typos

*******************

Dallas Winston needs a lot of things. His boots are held together with duct tape and about fourteen different layers of mud, his jeans are worn, torn, patched, and torn again, and his number of material possessions is probably something less than twenty- he never had much in the first place and he pawned just about everything he had when he ran from New York five years ago. But despite all the things he is lacking, all the things he’s never had and the things he could use, what he wants most right now is a fucking break.

Dammit but he didn’t think moving out to rodeo country would involve caring so much. His gang back in New York had been a proper gang- more organized and even crueler than Shepards outfit, a group of tough as nails dealers and muscle, who’d just as soon shoot a kid as they would give them a chance. Hell, he’d been scared of them back in the day, for all he’d been smarter than most of them, because that kind of casual violence only came from the joy of hurting something, not from necessity. Only an idiot wouldn’t be scared of those sorts of people. Here though, in sleepy little Tulsa Oklahoma his gang is…a drunk, a dropout, two high schoolers, one recent high school graduate, and tagalong middle school kid- and yet, Dally finds himself far more loyal and goddamn committed to the ragtag group of big hearted losers than he ever was to old Alfie and his ring of coke dealing miscreants. It’s maddening. It’s wonderful. It’s horrible. It’s tiring is what it is, and Dally needs a goddamn break. Who wouldn’t after the night he’d just had, which involved practically dragging a nearly hypothermic Johnny Cade out of the cold and trying to warm the kid up? And as if that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d then had the dubious honour of driving Ponyboy to school this morning. Something about the kid’s zombielike stare and hunched shoulders had left him thinking of how bright those eyes used to be, just three months ago, which led to him thinking of Mrs. Curtis’ stern demeanour but kind face, and it was all just too much. Dallas needs a break. He wasn’t meant for this sappy caring shit. He’s done his mourning- he doesn’t need to be knocked all off kilter because of two kids who think of themselves as gangsters but in reality are nothing more than battered kids, bruised in different ways. This is the problem, Dally has found, with gangs that are more family than function- they’re made of people instead of parts of a machine. You can’t care about someone who is replaceable- but no one in the Curtis gang is replaceable, not by a long shot. That wasn’t the case back in New York.

Whatever. He’s done thinking about this now. He’s going to go back to the Curtis house and watch shit tv and maybe steal some food if the kitchen doesn’t look too skint this week. He is not going to think about kids who aren’t his problem (and yet completely are because he’d joined this stupid excuse of a gang and made them his problem in the first place), and he is going to stop being so fucking soft. Geez. If Tim could hear his thoughts right about now he’d lose just about all his street cred. 

Of course, because he’s Dallas Winston, and life has never thrown him a fucking bone in all seventeen years of his life on earth, his hopes for a peaceful afternoon are dashed the second he steps through the door. 

Darrel Curtis- six foot two, two hundred pounds of pure muscle, cool headed Darrel Curtis- is parked at the worn kitchen table, head in his hands, a water bill and something Dally is reasonably sure is property tax forms sitting in front of him.

 And he’s crying.

Darry Curtis doesn’t cry. In all the time Dally has known him, he’s never seen the guy so much as sniffle- not even at the funeral three months ago when Darry buried both parents in one horrible day. Soda had broken down immediately, and Pony had stared wide eyed, rivers of silent tears pouring down his cheeks- but Darry hadn’t. He’s crying now though, and not just a little bit either, huge gut wrenching sobs tearing from his mouth and shit Dallas doesn’t really know what to do. What he wants to do is pretend he never saw this, pretend it never happened and leave, let Darry have his well earned breakdown in the solitude he clearly believed he had. Of course, he would have had to have the foresight not to slam open the screen door for that to even be a possibility.

Darry jumps at the noise, shoulders squaring immediately, letting out one last sob that he could easily explain away as a gasp of surprise as he regains his barings. 

“Oh,” He clears his throat, valiantly trying to pretend like his eyes are bloodshot and his stubble covered cheeks covered in tear trcks, “hey Dal. There’s sandwich stuff in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

In that second he sounds so much like his mother that it punches Dally in the chest a little bit. Something about the ocean of feelings quickly locked behind a kind word and a carefully controlled expression is so reminiscent of Mrs. Curtis that Dally almost finds himself nodding a yes and escaping into the kitchen. He can’t though, because as much as Darry acts like her, he will never be his godlike mother. Instead, he is his kind hearted self, a twenty year old with the custody of two kid brothers he couldn’t bear to be separated from, and all the pressures of adult life most people don’t even start having to worry about until they’ve had time to really live. Mrs.Curtis had taken care of all of them, even Dally when everyone else only ever looked at him as a lost cause. Darry can’t do that though, can barely look out for Soda and Pony. Anyone with eyes can see how he’s been struggling since the funeral, nevermind the way Soda’s endless energy has turned anxious and resentful, grades slipping, while Pony gets quieter and moodier, a thirteen year old ticking time bomb. 

“You stay outta trouble for me Dallas,” Mrs. Curtis said to him once, “I know you ain’t a good boy but you’re a loyal one and sometimes that’s more important. So don’t go gettin’ yourself locked up for a bit, savvy? My boys need you more than they know.” 

She hadn’t just been talking about Darry, Soda, and Pony. The whole gang was Mrs.Curtis’ boys and everyone knew it, but Dally had held those words close to his heart more times than he could count, a balm on his perpetually blackened soul. Mrs.Curtis had known the score, known that goodness wasn’t the same thing as love, and she’d loved him anyhow- unconditionally and more than his own sorry excuse of a mom ever had. She’d trusted him too, never babied him or tried to fix him the way every other adult was always trying to, just patched him up when he got into trouble, and scolded him for not being smarter. You wouldn’t have survived this long if you were stupid Dallas, so don’t go pullin’ a stunt like this again. C’mon and git some dinner now, there's casserole in the fridge.

It would break her heart to see Darry like this now, so small and defeated, two things her eldest son was never meant to be. But she isn’t here right now, never will be again.

But Dally is.

My boys need you more than they know.

Damn Mrs.Curtis and her all knowing ways, because she knew what she was doing when she took him in because now he’s stuck with this stupid gang in this stupid town forever because she made him love her and love them all too.

“What’s goin’ on Darry?”

“Nothing,” Darry lies, fingers twitching a bit to pull the papers closer to him.

“I ain’t Soda, you don’t gotta lie to me like that.”

Shame twists his handsome features and he looks down, fidgeting with his high school ring.

“I don’t got enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Money Dallas,” he snaps, “I don’t get my first paycheck from that new job until next week, and both these are due on Friday. I bought groceries yesterday, and paid the hydro on Monday, no matter what I’m short.”

There’s such fear in his eyes. Dally remembers what the social workers said when Darry got custody, how militant they’re going to be checking up on him. One missed bill could have Soda and Ponyboy taken away before any of them could cry ‘unfair’.

My boys need you more than they know.

Dally can’t let that happen. It would kill Darry, Soda might go full crazy and Ponyboy…the kid was already sensitive. He’d never make it in a boy’s home. 

“How much?”

“What?” Darry blinks at him and Dally rolls his eyes. Darry Curtis has never been stupid, so he doesn’t know why he’s acting stupid now. 

“How much money do you need?”

“Four fifty.”

Dally winced. That was more than he had on him right now, more than he could get from Two-bit and Steve if he asked on the down low. None of them ever had that kind of scratch just lying around- unless Steve’s dad had recently paid him to come back home, but the old man had booted Steve out two days ago and chucked a bottle at him yesterday when he went back to grab spare clothes so they probably weren’t back to playing happy family yet, and likely wouldn’t be for  while.

Still. There’s other ways to get money.

My boys need you more than you know.

“Leave it to me.” Dally promises.

“No.” Darry shoots him down immediately,  “It ain’t your responsibility Dallas-”

“It ain’t all yours either.”

“That’s exactly what it is!”

“Are we a gang or not?” Dally glares, “I know you Curtis boys are wicked at acceptin’ help but like it or not you need it right now! I ain’t watchin’ the state take Soda an’ Pony away because of your fucking pride Darry!”

Darry stares at him a moment, eyes hard before he sighs, shoulders drooping, suddenly looking the same type of bone deep exhausted that is becoming an all too familiar look on him. 

“Just…don’t do anything illegal, ok? The boys can’t handle you bein’ locked up right now.”

For some reason the words sting. It’s true the gang’s all been a wreck since the Curtis parents died, but Dally is under no illusions as to his place in their ragtag little group. They survived well enough before him, and they’ve survived every time he’s been in the cooler since knowing them, and it won’t be any different if he gets locked up now.

He must have scoffed or something because Darry glares at him. “I mean it.”

Whether he’s talking about the gang needing him or about him not doing anything that could get him into trouble with the cops, Dally doesn’t stick around long enough to find out. Instead, he turns on his heel, a plan already forming in his mind.

Buck Merril is just about the most pigheaded cowboy Dally’s ever met in his life, but he’s always running about half a dozen money making scams at any point in time, and he jumps anytime Dally offers to help because he gets stuff done and keeps his trap shut good. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, working for a guy he hardly likes and doesn’t respect, but money is money and Darry needs money desperately right now so he swallows his pride and asks Buck what needs doing.

He ends up two towns over, at a rickety trailer park off the main road, two kilos of smack stashed under the seat of Buck’s car. He makes the drop, bullies the buyer who wasn’t willing to cough up Buck’s agreed upon price, and ignores the way his stomach twists at the way he just gave someone else the very thing that destroyed his sister’s life, a million years ago back in New York. 

Buck claps him on the shoulder when he gets back. Dally shoves him off, takes his cut of dirty money, and leaves before he can punch someone. 

Warm light spills out the window of the Curtis house when he gets there. Ponyboy is leaning against Johnny on the porch steps, smoking a cigarette and staring at the sky, Johnny murmuring something to him that the kid doesn’t seem to be really hearing. It’s frightfully domestic and frightfully sad, the bruise on Johnny’s cheekbone almost black in the dim evening light, Ponyboy looking so skinny and tired Dally has the urge to tell him to go to bed. He doesn’t of course- it’s not his place, and Pony isn’t his brother. Instead, he ruffles both kids' hair as he passes them, tells them to get inside so they’ll have enough folks for a round of poker, and goes to find Darry.

Darry’s in the kitchen, scrubbing purple mac’n’cheese off a saucepan when Dally finds him. He watches for a minute, sees the tension in Darry’s broad shoulders, the viciousness in the way he’s scrubbing the pan. Desperation, Dally knows Is all consuming, bleeding into every thought, every action, every facet of life. For all he’s a different kind of desperate, Darry Curtis is as desperate now as Dally himself is.

He spares a quick glance over his shoulder. Johnny and Pony have trooped inside, the latter robotically shuffling a deck of cards, while Soda and Johnny chat quietly. Steve is flipping through channels on the radio, and Two is nowhere to be found. None of them so much as glance at the kitchen. Good.

“Dar.” 

Darry jumps, turns. 

“Glory Dal, scare a man to death, why dontcha!”

He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t my fault you weren’t payin’ attention. Here.” He holds out an envelope, and Darry’s eyes light first in understanding, then in hope.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be offerin’ if I wasn’t.”

“Dal…”

“Take it,” He shakes the envelope, “before the others see.”

Hesitantly Darry reaches out, but as soon as his hands close around the paper he all but snatches it from Dally’s hand.

“Dal…I…thank you. I can’t tell you-”

“Whatever man,” Dally can feel the discomfort that comes anytime he is thanked or treated half decently raring in his chest, “I told you I’d take care of it and I meant it.”

��I’ll never be able to repay you for this.”

“It ain’t a loan, it’s just helpin’ out.”

“That’s not what I- nevermind,” Darry shakes his head, mouth twisting in a rueful half smile, “There’s dinner in the fridge, I made sure Soda saved you some.”

Dally fixes himself a plate, glaring down at pasta that was never meant to be purple, and he and Darry join everyone else in the living room. Johnny grins when he sees him, scooting closer to Ponyboy to make room on the sofa, and Steve steals the cards out of Pony’s hands to start dealing, having finally found a station playing half decent music. 

Dally eats his dinner and plays poker, pretending he doesn’t care half as much as he does when he loses. He wins half of Soda’s cigarettes and quickly loses them all to Johnny, pretending the feeling in his chest isn’t softer than anything he usually lets himself feel.

These boys don’t know it but they need him more than they know, and he’ll keep them safe. For Mrs, Curtis, but for himself too. 

After all, he’s always been a selfish bastard. 

[14thcommander]

best kept secret and your biggest mistake | hange zoe x reader

summary: your relationship with eren is a facade, and hange is your secret lover. they wish it was more than that, but they’ll take what you’ll give them. (inspired by nobody puts baby in the corner - fall out boy)

cw: smut, 18+ ONLY. angst, cheating, drinking, sex under influence of alcohol, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise. afab!reader, they/them pronouns for hange zoe. the characters are flawed and reader has a personality. 

Parties have never been Hange’s scene.

Not in a superiority complex way – at least that’s what they like to think – it’s just that people aren’t really Hange’s thing. Although the consumption of alcohol has become an increasing habit in their life, the noise and social interaction are the worst parts of attending parties, they figure.

“Tch, can’t believe we’re being dragged to this shit.” Levi comments, rolling his eyes at his own boyfriend. The short man always seems to be stressed or annoyed, but this time it feels genuine. When it comes to his partner, though, it never lasts long – not really. “This is your fault, Erwin.”

Erwin Smith, ever the social butterfly and recognizable persona, is able to fluctuate through almost every social group in Mitras. Which is precisely the reason why they are entering Zeke Yeager’s birthday party, crossing the threshold of a luxurious two story house — Hange wonders if the guy isn’t a bit too old to throw parties like this anyway, but hey: it’s free alcohol. 

“Sorry eyebrows, gonna have to agree with your boyfriend.”

Erwin snorts at Hange’s words and Levi simply huffs in agreement. A typical conversation so far. The living room is crowded, the atmosphere pumps a generic pop song, and Hange already wants to leave. There are so many people Hange recognizes, realizing that they will have to greet most of them in order to be polite. They look around, scanning the room for something they know will hurt them. 

You.

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Levi.” The blond says, placing a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. The gesture is suggestive, something only lovers could share. “You’ll have fun, I’ll make sure of it.”

Hange scoffs at the scene before them, with a roll of their eyes and a bitter taste on their tongue.

“Ew, get a room, you guys are fucking disgusting.” They say, face contorting with faux discomfort. “I’m getting a drink.”

-

There’s a golden locket hanging from your neck, a collar as heavy as prison. The photo inside, blurry and bright, is of your boyfriend — which was an anniversary gift from last year, or something. The both of you are always breaking up anyway, so Hange doesn’t fully understand what the point of celebrating an anniversary really is. The jewelry doesn’t fool anyone when it comes to deceiving the mess that is your relationship. It isn’t like a necklace would make them forget how he treats you.

As if it would make you look away from his affair with Mikasa Ackerman. 

Hange can’t help but eye it, as it gleams viciously, almost as if inviting them to destroy it. Instead, they take another swing from the sweaty beer bottle in their hand. 

Everything about you is more complicated than it should be. Someone like you shouldn’t be dating Eren Yeager of all people — he’s petty, childish, the embodiment of everything you’re not. You are no saint either, however being with someone like Yeager is something that Hange takes as a personal offense. 

This is bullshit. All of it. 

“Gonna grab another beer. Want one?” Levi says, the baritone voice is somehow louder than the music that plays from somewhere in the living room. 

“Sure.”

It has been an hour or so since they have arrived, and Hange is a few beers deep in

Your boyfriend has a hand on your thigh, marking his territory just in case anyone dares to look at you with lust in their eyes. Hange fights the urge to punch him. This is bullshit. All of it. 

You mutter something to Eren, lips close to his jaw, pressing a kiss to it after you are finished speaking. Hange assumes it is something about wanting another drink. They wonder if your boy toy knows what you like, at all. For starters, you prefer silver — why would he gift you a locket that is fucking gold? 

-

Hange decides to go upstairs in order to escape from the hell that is this party, unable to watch that circus any longer. The house is crowded, causing the atmosphere to feel even worse. It’s almost claustrophobic.

And, for some unknown reason, your friends are into that. 

The bathroom — third door on the right — is thankfully empty. It is clean, too: no signs of drunken regret in the form of vomit. 

The luxurious bathroom is covered in marble with gold adjacents, from floor to ceiling. There is an enormous bathtub on the end of it. Hange if the Yeagers ran out of money when renovating the house: the bathroom is all marble but there isn’t fucking decent lighting. 

Hange locks the door, back pressed against it. They let out a sigh, something from deep in their lungs and even deeper in their heart. They adjust the thick oval glasses on the bridge of their nose, feeling emotionally exhausted after watching you play pretend with Eren.

“Fuck.” They mutter shortly before splashing their face with cold water, feeling droplets fall down their neck. It refreshes them, sure, but the sinking feeling in their stomach is still there. 

Objectively speaking, Hange knows it doesn’t have anything to do with them, or they are – the whole situation is entirely your fault. You are the one who is – allegedly – in a happy, committed relationship. Hange was merely caught in the crossfire of your desires. The jealousy that bubbles in their stomach every time they have to witness you kiss him is your fault. 

But they can’t bring themself to hate you for it. 

-

After all, is it greedy to want both of them? 

You dream of dark, charcoal eyes only to wake up to an ocean gaze staring at you. It is confusing, complicated. You wish you were not pulling and pushing, stuck in between two different worlds.

The party was becoming too much for you – too much noise, too many people. You go upstairs, to the second floor of the house, needing to get away from everything and everyone. Wondering if there is an option — begging for a sign from God — to escape all of this, your hand grabs the doorknob of the bathroom, only for it to twist magically.

And, on the other side of it, is Hange Zoe. Dimly illuminated, the first few buttons of their shirt undone, tanned skin glowing — almost reflecting, luring you in. 

“Oh.” Is all you can come up with. 

Standing face to face with the truth isn’t funny — or easy — in the slightest. The sight of Hange before you feels like the universe is taunting you with the possibility of a life you could have.

“Hi.” They greet you, voice as buttery as you remember. 

You are overwhelmed with flashbacks of car seats, foggy windows, whispered sweet nothings. The ghost of Hange’s mouth still sends chills down your spine.

And, here you are — red solo cup in hand, filled halfway with a nasty drink your own boyfriend made for you, apparently unable to know the basics of your likes and dislikes. The golden locket around your neck is so heavy, so heavy you almost drop to the ground and as your skin turns blue.

“Hey.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Hange is a few inches from you, and you can breathe in their scent, as it intoxicates your lungs. They smell of cologne, and a subtle undertone of cigarettes. You want to ask, since last time you talked they had quit the poisonous habit – it’s as awkward as it is already, though. 

You haven’t seen them in a month, since the last time you got back together with Eren. Hange took the message when you started ignoring their texts, and posted a picture with him again on your social media. Still, they don’t understand why. 

“How long are you planning on avoiding me?” They ask, shoulder leaning against the door frame. Because fuck this — fuck all of this. Fuck Eren Yeager and his superiority complex, and how he has the only thing Hange has ever truly wanted.

You.

Considering your options, you realize you have the chance to play dumb and pretend you don’t know what they are talking about. Except, this is Hange, who knows you better than anyone else in this world — who knows your soul and brain and heart like the palm of their hand. 

“Hange,” the sound of their name tastes unbelievably sour on your tongue. “You know. You know it’s complicated.”

They know this – at least that’s what they tell themself. Hange does their best to understand you, to feel empathy about your situation. Your relationship is obviously unhealthy, maintaining you in a chokehold. Eren always has a short leash around your neck – in the form of a gold necklace, mainly. He is always around, always with an arm snaked around your waist or a hand on your shoulder. Well, except when he sneaks around to cheat on you with Mikasa. 

“Is it?” Their words make your heart beat heavily against its organic cage, begging to be freed from its confines. “You say that every time, yet you won’t leave him. I thought you had a bit more self-respect than that, to be honest. You don’t seem like the person I met anymore. Not at all.”

They take a step towards you, bringing themself unbelievably close. 

“What happened to you, huh? Little Eren made you his pet?”

Their words drip with venom, poisonous and ready to kill. They want to hurt you as badly as you hurt them, but truly, they would not be able to do so. Hange is all bark, and no bite. You, on the other hand…

“Fuck you. Fuck you from even saying that.” There are stubborn tears threatening to spill from your eyes, a mixture of anger and plead.

Hange knows they might have gone too far, their words intended to stab you in the heart and apparently they did. Alcohol doesn’t suit their anger issues, after all. 

“Tell me to step away. Tell me to fuck off and I will. I’ll go downstairs and pretend I haven’t even seen you.”

You know they would do it, in case you requested — or better, ordered. These days, you wonder if there is anything Hange wouldn’t do for you. There’s a brief moment of silence, voices echoing from the party downstairs, music pumping through the walls. 

They move closer, so close, until their forehead is pressed against yours. 

“Hange.” You mumble their name like a confirmation, like a warning. What it implicates sits heavy in your stomach. 

It is messy, you don’t know who moves first, however your lips end up moving against theirs, with a synchrony that should be long forgotten.

The disgusting liquid that you were once holding ends up splattered on the floor. Your drink of gin, that tasted like kerosene, stands out on the marble floor. Someone would have to take care of it, but not right now. Not now, that your tongues are intertwined. Hange tastes like beer, and you probably taste like something similar.

And just like that, Eren Yeager’s empire falls, right into Hange’s hands. 

They grab your waist, moving you towards the dimly lit bathroom, in order to give a bit of privacy. Smoothly, Hange closes the door and presses your back against it, the rage of Hange burning from deep in their heart — you can feel it on your bones, in your marrow. You know this isn’t a hate fuck, but it isn’t making love either.

No, this is way more intense, as they press open mouthed kisses on the warm skin of your throat. They notice you still wear the same perfume they once complimented, and they can’t help but think it’s because of them. Hange can’t help but wonder about the impact they have in your life, or if they have any at all.

They whisper something that sounds like your name, and it sounds so different from how your boyfriend says you. In this very moment, with Hange gripping your hips tightly, canine teeth grazing the side of your neck, you feel no empathy for Eren. You feel no regret at all, and if that makes you an asshole, then so be it. Being a goody two shoes, a people pleaser, has never gotten you anywhere.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this.” Hange confesses, as they pull your skirt up, guiding you to lay in the empty bathtub, on the other corner of the bathroom.

“I know. I missed you too.” You reply in the form of something in between a whisper and a moan. It's not what they said at all, but you know they mean it anyways. 

Your tits are exposed, bra tossed somewhere on the ground. Your skirt is a puddle around your waist, panties moved to the side — the sight of your glossy cunt exposed to Hange, as they offer you a smile that isn’t nothing short of wolfish. 

“Aw princess, your cunt is so wet already. So messy.” The condescending tone drips from their voice like honey, much like the wetness that drips from you.

Biting their tongue, they fight the urge to ask, is it all for me?

They take a moment to appreciate your body, fingers dancing along your soft skin, occasionally running through scars, unevenness, and a birthmark. Details they want to remember for the rest of their life, but would much rather be reminded of those every chance they get to see you strip for them. 

“Please.” You whimper, as your hips buckle. 

They shush you, fingers lightly grazing your pussy, teasing you through your wetness.

“I know, baby. I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just be good for me, yeah?” They say, pressing kisses under your year, on your neck, towards your collarbone. “Think you can do it?”

You whimper in agreement. They’ll take it

“Gotta be quiet, or someone might notice.”

Digits find themselves playing with your cunt, spreading your inner lips apart as Hange presses a single finger against your entrance, touching you just enough to drive you crazy. It sends a white hot feeling through your body.

“So fucking pretty, princess. Prettiest goddamn pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Given Hange’s history, that means something. Even if it didn’t, the praise would still make your body sing underneath them. It’s hard to properly explain the effect they have on you. 

Their experienced fingers finally find their way inside you, as a thumb rubs against your clit. It’s magical, it’s heaven. If you could choose to die like this, you would. 

This right here should make Hange feel bad, overtaken by a sense of regret at least, but they can’t. Not when you look this good, moaning and whimpering and begging. You have a boyfriend, and they couldn’t care less. 

Their fingers start pumping in and out of you, slowly at first, but growing in speed. Hange knows just how you like it, they right amount of pressure to press on your clit, and curling their fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck, ohmygod.” You pant, dignity long forgotten. It’s shameless, you are horny like a fucking teenager, but it feels so good. “It’s so good.”

Hange swallows another moan from you, mouth pressed to yours messily, a mixture of tongue and teeth and spit. 

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” They ask, not showing you any mercy, already lowering their body in between your legs. “You have no idea how much I missed this pretty pussy.”

“Please, please.” You whisper in response. “Need it, Hans. C’mon.”

They smile wickedly at you.

“Know you do.”

And then, finally — finally, they press open mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, careful to not leave any marks. If there isn’t any proof of your crimes against Eren, then he can’t hold it against you. This is how it works. 

You want all they can give you, unable to quit them. 

Tiny explosions spread through your entire body, as you grind your hips against Hange’s greedy mouth. Now, this is greed — the overwhelming lust, the need to make you theirs. 

The bubble of warmth on your lower abdomen only grows, threatening to pop at any given second. 

The way Hange takes care of you with subtle touches, making it clear that they pay attention to your every reaction brings a bittersweet taste to your tongue. The contrast between them and your boyfriend is even clearer, starkly obvious. This is too intense: a mixture of passion for your lover and regret for your relationship. Somehow, it feels similar to falling in love.

Your hands find home in Hange’s dark hair, like they have many times before. For some unknown reason, this time is bittersweet – perhaps, the emotions, the touches that are so fresh on your body, send you into sensory overload. Tears escape from your eyes, like a broken dam. 

Your mind is a mess, and so is your body – wetness clings to your inner thighs, a thin layer of sweat covering your entire body. 

Their name falls from your lips like a mantra, as if your body is solely devoted to Hange – no one, not even Eren, is capable of earning such a reaction from you

You are so close – your hands pull on Hange’s hair lightly, just enough for them to moan into your cunt. Their teeth lightly graze your clit, sucking it like their life depends on it. The Earth stutters on its axis as you come, the bubble of warmth on your lower abdomen finally exploding, creating a mess out of you. Your legs tremble in pleasure, as Hange carries you through your height. 

It is quiet for a while, only your heavy breathing and the bass of music bumping from downstairs creating noise around you. Hange helps you get dressed, adjusting their hair and glasses shortly after. It isn’t silent, however wordless – an old choreography you have smoothly executed many times before. 

But, really, what is Hange supposed to say? See you next time? Can’t wait to do this again? Is this-

“I’ll leave him.” You mutter, while fixing your makeup in front of the mirror, attempting to clean it in the dim light. You look at them through the mirror, fixing your smudged eyeliner as you do so. It is still unclear if your boyfriend knows about your escapades with Hange, but you make sure to return to him as impeccably as you arrived to them. Maybe it’s better this way. 

They scoff once again. You sound like a broken record at this point, and they are tired of believing you. 

“I will-”

“Yeah, you said that last time.”

You sigh, turning around to look where they stand behind you, with a shoulder pressed against the door. Supporting your body against the sink, your gaze falls to the ground. 

“I mean it. I’ll leave him. I don’t know when, or how, but I will.”

Hange sighs.

“Alright.” They turn to you, one last time before opening the door. “But you gotta do this for you, not for me.”

With that, Hange leaves you – you wonder if this is what they felt after the countless times you were the one to leave them.

[kinardsevan]

so I’ve been thinking about this for like two days now, and I’m gonna say it. 

I’m fucking bothered. The amount of crap going around right now into relation of Tommy as a character and the rhetoric it’s being equated to is infuriating. Now personally, I try not to speak on things I can’t chiefly relate to (i.e., I’m not a gay male firefighter, so I won’t speak on the reality of living that life), however, I’m highly concerned about the attitude people are giving off in relation to the way that Tommy is undeserving of a redeption arc/is an asshole because of who he was in the past. 

First of all, I want to remind those who would actually take the time to read this: he’s a television character, and in no way does that put Lou in the position of being deserving of any vitriol for the shit he’s had to put up with. Or has it already been so long that we’ve forgotten about the shit Isabel Gillies was put through when Elliot Stabler returned to L&O:SVU (a whopping 5 years ago)? To that end, these actors are just earning a paycheck. They don’t deserve the abuse spewed at them any more than any person who works in retail or food service does because someone makes a small mistake on your bad day.

Further though, I’m concerned by the attitude that there is hatred spewed towards the character of Tommy because of who he WAS. I find it highly unlikely that there’s a single person on this planet that hasn’t forgiven at least one person in their life for some shitty thing they did in the past. To that end: we clearly have seen based off the way s7 went that Hen and Chimney made that choice at some point. Does it excuse previous behavior? No. I don’t know that when you forgive someone that excusing bad behavior is the intention. However, you give them room to grow and flourish. To that end, the arc that Lou has been given for Tommy is clearly within those lines. 

None of this is to say that what the character of Tommy did was okay or acceptable. However, I’d venture to guess that if we’d never seen the recurrence of Tommy Kinard on the show in s7 (and most likely s8), no one would bat an eyelash at the mention of his character, because in terms of how his storyline was wrapped up in s2, things are left on good terms. However, because he’s now Buck’s love interest for the moment and possibly forseable future, he’s got all kinds of problems. He has all kinds of toxic behavior. Nevermind the fact that this rhetoric comes from the same people who fail to also concede that Eddie, the preferred option as a LI for Buck for a large crowd, also has his own toxic behaviors. Hell, he even has his own toxic behaviors towards Buck. But you don’t see those who appreciate Tommy as a character pointing fingers at those issues. 

If you want to call me toxic because I’m not afraid to point all of this out, so be it. It is canonically unfair to tell someone that they are a toxic person because of who they used to be, and not the person they are today. The attitude towards “Tommy blame Gerrard for his behavior”, as though the character is supposed to resolve every issue he previously created with other characters in the limited screen time he was given, given the contract extension. Although, something tells me that even if Tim & Co had put the effort into making the scenes all about that instead of devoting it to the point of his character development (Buck and Tommy’s relationship), people would still find something to complain about. 

I’m not saying you have to like Tommy with Buck. I’m not even saying you have to like Tommy, period. But it’s arguable to say that if you’re going to decide not to like him, first, Lou is not the person to blame (someone else very well could’ve played the character and yall would be doing the same thing). And second, maybe find some realistic reasoning behind not liking him other than the fact that it makes Evan unavailable to chase after Eddie (because some people clearly aren’t prepared for that discussion). 

~

[babyspacekwid]

Astrology Observations and Advice ✨ (TW talks of ED)

From a non professional astrologer who has no idea wtf she’s posting half the time 💕

Chiron 4th house in Capricorn, Your dad may be very hard on you, like a perfectionist dad. Could have also been abusive. Could be the type to comment on your shortcomings. Remember that you are enough as it is, don’t be so hard on yourself, treat yourself as you would a friend. With compassion and kindness. Its okay to make mistakes in life. It’s common to have daddy issues with this placement, so try not to let that affect your love life, this is a personal placement of mine😜 rlly into toxic men, but they ain’t good for me, so let us be aware of that. Don’t take life too seriously, do the serious shit without being too serious about it. Idk if that makes sense but for example, let’s say u got a math test, do the math test seriously, like study and shit but don’t let the stress of it consume you because it rlly ain’t that serious.

Aries moon, especially men y’all’s temper is unregulated af. Ive seen y’all snap at stuff that energy shouldn’t be wasted on, y’all are one of the most emotionally reactive signs I have ever met. Like a ticking time bomb. This moon sign might have experienced a mother figure that was harsh and emotionally neglectful. Very hard on you, wasn’t that nurturing when raising you. The type of mom to tell you to get up and wipe the dust off when you fall and scrape your knee as a kid. y’all gotta delve into those emotions in a healthier manner. Therapy and journaling could be very beneficial. Go to one of those rage rooms where ppl break shit, I feel like y’all would go all out. There’s definitely some pent up anger. This goes for Scorpio moons too, y’all is more internal though, got some deep dark thoughts and intense internal feelings that could easily overwhelm which is why downtime is needed.

Speaking of some Scorpio moons I have met, don’t let your trust issues fuck things up. This a hard placement, y’all feel things so deeply, but just cause one person backstabbed you don’t mean everyone will. Open up to people, trial and error and you’ll find that person. Obviously set boundaries and don’t just trauma dump on everyone you meet, but don’t build an invisible wall as soon as you meet someone. Not everyone is out to get you.

(TW) Taurus risings I’ve met have dealt with some type of eating disorder. Could have had family members or people comment on their weight as a child or just got rlly influenced by the negative parts of social media. Every taurus rising I’ve met has dealt with body issues, y’all are actually so beautiful though, and I’m sorry you don’t hear it often,no matter the size. You guys are also so photogenic, like maybe I’m just the type of person that sees human beings as cute in general but istg y’all could be making the ugliest of faces and I’d still think it’s charming 😭 my best advice would be to stop comparing yourselves, and to learn unconditional love towards your body at every stage it’s at. We’re gonna be 60 and wrinkly anyways, might as well enjoy what it can do for you now!

I have this friend who’s a Capricorn sun and moon, and as a Gemini sun and moon myself I feel so similar to her in like every aspect. Idk if it’s because we’re both born on a new moon, but anyways, this girl needs to learn to open up😭 like hun I wanna be your shoulder to cry on, don’t get me wrong she will vent, and spill the tea, but when the waterworks come out she’d rather isolate. I’m just like naurrrrrr, come back. I might not be comfortable with tears and shit but il awkwardly pat your back and listen to you. Either way y’all don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, you aren’t a burden and you can’t deal with it yourself. Stop trynna convince yourself that you can. Humans are social creatures and our primal instinct is to receive and give love. M

ANYWHOOOO y’all I rlly ain’t that knowledgeable about this shit, I’m rlly going off my friend’s placements (and mine). I am studying astrology tho so maybe one day 🤠 but I got the memory of a goldfish so it might take a while, I appreciate everyone who’s been liking my posts though THANK YOU💕💕💕💕

[cherry1sblog]

PART 2

PAIRING: Lee heeseung × fem!reader . a

GENRES:smut, fluff, bullying, alcohol,party,unprotect ed sex (rember to wrap your Willy so the out come won't be silly

WARNINGS there is bullying in this heeseung is basically a dick to y/n and nothing in this story is real!!! This is fan fiction and the way I write about heeseung is not the way I portray him as he's a person himself this is simply for entertainment only !!

SUMMARY:heeseung had always bullied you through your 3 years of Highschool but never let anyone touch you other then him and if he found out someone did that was the end of it you were basically marked as his toy that's until the summer of your junior year you had enough you were done with him always making fun of you and you hated the fact that after all he did I to you you still adored him and liked him but it dosent matter cause you wanted to leave your senior year with a banger so you were no longer your nerdy self still smart asf obvi but appearance wise different you got contacts new clothes thank god you guys didn't have a dress code and most importantly you spent all summer learning how to do your makeup..

RECAP….

y/n and sunghoon on the couch asleep "holy shit heeseung hyung is not gonna be happy" jungwon picked you up and ran with you on his back you being confused when jungwon locked his door and threw you on the bed *WHAT TH-

" jungwon covers your mouth muffling your yelling until you stoped "shut the fuck up unless you want to make heeseung hyung and sunghoon hyung hate eachother more right now " honestly you couldn't give a fuck less and if this made heeseung miserable then you had every reason not to care " why should I care on fact I actually don't mind going back ou " jungwon grabed your hand pinning you on the wall wtf is it with everyone pinning you on the wall " look I know heeseung hyung did fucked up shit and I know it's fucked up we didn't do anything but we all grow from our mistakes and plus now your like hot so please just shut the fuck up and well stay in here

————————————————————-

/the next day after all that//

You got home after sometime of being stuck with jungwon you were honestly so feed up with everthing at that point but being stuck with jungwon wasn’t too bad you got to knwo him actually as a person and the way he talked about heeseung made you actually see there is a diffrent side to heeseung getting lost in your thoughts you didn’t know that chu was talking to you “oh sorry chu I just have a lot on my mind rn” she looked at you with a smirk confused you looked at her “I bet you are having a lot on you mind scince you slept with Sunghoon “ afraid someone would hear you covers her mouth “chu first of all we did not sleep together second of all please don’t say that” you wind to her “okay oaky I’m sorry “ she wisperd “ but if you guys didn’t fuck what did you do “ obviously her not buying it “well I mean we actually just watched a movie “ chu was in disbelief “you telling me you spent that night at his house and didn’t fuck!” “Omg shut up chu “everyone now staring at you and her apologizing “speak of the devil” you turned around confused at chu it was heeseung jake and sunoo sunoo smiled happyily at you giving you a hug sunoo was normally like this even when people were rude to you he made really nice gestures making you at least happy one person back then didn’t totally hate you “hi y/nnieeee” avoiding heeseungs contact a bit embarrassed from What hapoend the last time you guys spoke “didn’t know you had a nickname other than doll y/n “ sunoo smacked his shoulder “cmon now hyung don’t be a dick”sunoo said defending you “what ever “ heeseung said walking away sunoo being left behind “oh btw y/n I was wondering if I could get your help with something “ nodding at him curios to what he could need your help with “I know you and heeseung aren’t best of buds but cause you help me plan his birthday par-“ you stopped him “hell no sunoo” “why not th-“ you get it that sunoos action didn’t mean to hurt you but why would you do anything to help him “please y/nnie “ sunoo made it so hard to say no “your lucky your pretty “ sunoo smiled happily “okay well I’m his party is next week and all of the boys are pitching in and I need your help with decorations “ nodding but you didn’t want heeseung to know you helped cause that would cause problems “sunoo just don’t tell heeseung I’m helping you plan this “ nodding and not questiong you “oh and chu would you mind going with Jake the day of to get drinks “ you could see chus eyes light up in mention of jake “ofc!” Sunoo thanked you guys and had left

//2 days later//

“Okay sunoo so we have all the Ballons ordered and the banners nikis and jungwon and gonna pick up the cakes Sunghoon sunoo getting all the food so we’re set “ being so tired staying up late at night to plan more things for heeseungs party even tho as much as you hated him you still put a lot of time in this for no reason you couldn’t exactly pin point why you were putting so much thought in it being worried he wouldn’t be happy with it…. anyways back to sunoo “yes everything looks perfect !” Being happy everything was set in place for Saturday “wait y/n have you chosen your outfit yet “ omg after picking out everything and setting it all up for heeseungs party you completely forgot to buy and outfit with only 1 day left before the party “oh shit” sunoo being confused “what’s wrong?omg you didn’t chose one out yet did you” you shook your head “okay well you should have some time tommorw right I can go shopping with you” you thanked that sunoo even reminded you or it would have been so bad “your a life savor sunoo ilysm “

//The next day//

Sunoo arrived at the mall but not alone he came with sunghoon you hadn’t talk scince that day so you too were a bit awkward sunghoon just standing there as sunoo ran up to hug you “sunghoon hyung are you broken” laughing a bit at what sunoo had said “what no” sunghoon being defensive you ended up greeting him by just waving as he waved back “okay!let’s go shopping “

You guys had gon into a dress store to find a dress for the party you wanted somthing simple not to much it still being a little awkward beetween you and sunghoon but you guys lightens the mood by just saying some jokes sunoo had handed you a dress scince you weren’t liking any that you chose and sunoo really had an eye for clothes showing them the white dress sunoo had chosen for you his and sunghoon mouth hanging open “y/n I think you broke sunghoon” you both started laughing as sunghoon was a bit embarrassed but you knew that this was the dress you were gonna chose

//DAY OF PARTTYYYYY//

After you and sunoo had spent all night and the morning of the party decorating at jakes house you finally had to go home and change tha fully the party was supposed to be a Suprise so you didn’t have to worry about heeseung seeing you…”hey y/n “ nudging you head at chu “what up “ she seemed like she was being held back by the question “e-even tho heeseung bullied you and none of his freinds did anything to stop him why are you still nice to them “ you yourself didn’t fully understand but as much as you say you hated heeseung you really well didn’t how could you hate him from the moment you saw him in middle school till now you could never get over his Bambi like eyes and you’ll never forget the first encounter you had with him either heeseung was super nice the first time you had met him he had accidently number into you the first day of 6th grade helping you pick up everything and apologizing but reassuring him that it was okay every year from that money on you guys always had the same class but 6th grade heeseung was much diffrent then heeseung now “I’m not really sure chu but I know that I don’t hate them and I can’t really blame the boys either at times they would tell heeseung he was doing to much or that it was enough and I thanked them for that it was never there fault “ nodding chus head understating you now and feeling simpathy for you “but chu that’s not important right now cause we’re gonna go party!”

//at the party //

Beomgyu had driven all of you to the party you walked in thrue the door and you were so proud of the decorations and that everyone loved them “holy shit y/n “ beomgyu said “I need you to be my party planner cause damn “ giggling you made your way to find the rest of the boys leaving you freind for a bit instead you ran into heeseung you rolled your eyes as he starred at you “cmon doll you can’t be rude to the birthday boy “ he walked closer to you “what ever happy birthday tho ig “ he just nodded surprised you said happy birthday to him at all jake and sunoo seeing you and going up to you and heeseung “y/nnieee!!” You hugged sunoo and Jake “do want a drink y/n? Chu got a pack of beer that you like” you nodded pushing thrue the crowed to go get a drink getting déjà vu as you saw sunghoon agian in the same place as last time “oh hey y/n” Sunghoon seeming a bit tipsy already “hey hoon are you drunk?” He shook his head “no not drunk but what ever you do do not drink jays punch” “noted” you said as you guys laughed he passed you a beer as “are you enjoying the party so far” he asked you saying it to you ear as the music was too loud nodding to him “do you wanna go dance?” You asked him being a flustered but agreeing as you two were dancing you had made eye contact with heeseung but he didn’t look away you were in a trans you didn’t even realize sunghoon was talking to you till you felt him pat hour back “hey are you okay?” He asked a bit concerned “yeah I’m good “you said as you look back to heeseungs spot as he smirked and left with a girl sunghoon noticed and looked in the same direction “don’t worry about heeseung “ he told you “I’m not dont worry” you saw him smile as you to continued dancing

//later in the party//

You saw heeseung with a girl making out you were staring so hard you were sure they’d be able to feel u you “yo y/n “Jake was talking to you now “you seem a bit to munch into heeseung making out with other girls “slaping jake for making that remark as he laughed “shut up Jake “ you rolled your eyes beomgyu laughing at his joke “ you two are so immature “ soobin added “I can’t belive you choosing sides “ “Jake hee not choosing sides he just has a brain” now you were laughing but still going back to heeseung every now n then but this time was different heeseung made eye contact with you and you had gotten flustered going outside on the balcony for some fresh air you were two into you thoughts you didn’t know heeseung standing behind you “you know y/n if you wanted to keep watching you should have tooken a picture “ being scared as he talked in you ear grabbing you wait being flustered at his comment and his gestures “what’s wrong doll you always have so much to say “ you turned around just to be caged into him “heeseung go away “ he tilted his head “why you don’t like this “ he came close to you neck sucking on your skin moving your neck to let him have more access but you knew it was wrong “no I’m not gonna be one of your quick fuckes “ you said as you pushed him back you could tell he was a bit drunk “why cause I’m not sunghoon? Are you now to good for anyone” you were a bit confused on why that even mattered “yk what heeseung you seem a bit drunk so I’m just gonna g-“ he grabed your arm and tugged you back the drink he had placed before down before he had it in his other hand but it got on your dress he himself was a bit upset he had gotten it on you dress and by now you were furios “why do you hate me so much! What have I ever done to you for you to hate me you can’t just fuck with my feelings heeseung” he was taken aback by your question “yk heeseung Even after all the times you hurt me I never hated you but you always hated me and still do I don’t know what I did but I don’t think I even deserve this “ tears coming in your eyes now he could see them even tho it was dark he get bad now “y/n I-“ “no heeseung save it I’m done with you bull shit have a nice night happy fucking birthday lee” and with that you stumbled and ran out the door realizing soobin was the one who had driven you so you had to walk home now.

//back in the party //

Part three will be out quickly I just couldn’t write on this page anymore for some reason tha my oh for waiting !!

[gingerylangylang1979]

If he gets his shit together Carmy could be an amazing husband and father

Currently, Carmy is a hot mess. But I really hope the show doesn’t intend for that to be his end game. Yes, he will always struggle with mental health issues. People aren’t cured of them, it’s a matter of managing life with them. If only mentally healthy people had spouses and children most of us wouldn’t be here and the world would be a lonely place. Unless someone is a danger to themselves and others I hate it when I hear people trying to dictate who should reproduce and who shouldn’t. I don’t even want to get into the mildly hinting at eugenicist implications of such statements.

Carmy has a way to go. Some may say he shouldn’t have had a romantic relationship. Looking back I actually think it was good that he at least tried. At the moment he thinks it was a mistake and he shouldn’t try again. But that will change as he progresses. It was a learning experience. It showed that he is capable of giving his heart, caring for a partner, being romantic, letting loose, being domestic. It also shows that there is a part of him that is unfulfilled without a relationship. It was just bad timing with the wrong person. 

Beyond that I think part of Carmy’s character is a sense of respect and care for women. He speaks up when Richie harasses Sydney and when the guys were being vulgar about Claire at Christmas. He hasn’t really had a role model for chivalry and feminism but he has those values and isn’t afraid of being called “weird”. He doesn’t seem to care about fitting into the Berzatto male paradigm. He actively tries to escape it when it comes to worldview. This is why Richie calls him “woke”. Richie is built different. Mikey is built different. 

Carmy is a product of the best traits of his generation and exposure to different lifestyles. He’s traveled. He’s worked with women as his superiors and equals. He’s not afraid to bring Sydney on as his CDC, Tina on as her Sous, and Natalie as project manager. He has anger issues that are often directed at Sydney but it’s not because she’s a woman. We never see him try to dominate in his relationship with Claire. He also isn’t intimidated that Claire has post-graduate education and may have more long term earning potential than him unless he really becomes a culinary mogul. 

Carmy has paternal instincts. At the kid’s birthday party he knew they would want ketchup, he made the ecto-cooler, he was more concerned than anyone else about them being sedated. He made Tiff probably the best Sprite on the planet. I’m sure when Nat’s baby arrives he will be smitten, even if a fish out of water. I’m curious if he has interacted with Ava. 

With the staff he is nurturing when opportunities arise. He sold off some of his prized denim to keep the place afloat. He still makes the beef even if it’s the wrong cut. He continues service after the toilet explodes because they have to keep it movin. He consoles Marcus when he fucked up service. He also warns him to stay on track but didn’t hold it against him when he actually did go off point. He bails Richie out with their parachute. He sends Marcus to Copenhagen, Tina and Ebra to culinary school, Richie to Chef Terry. He gives Sydney the space to experiment and fail. He keeps everyone on and paid. He fucks up big time and becomes unhinged but he earnestly apologizes. He’s trying. He cares. He knows he needs work. He wants to provide in the best way he’s able at the moment. 

So with time, patience, and consistency, perhaps years from now I can really see him being a great partner and father. Carmy is a survivor. He doesn’t give up, he’s gonna make shit happen, he’s good at pivoting, he stays committed. Please let him have a wife and kid(s) someday if he desires. Thinking he should be alone forever is deeply pessimistic. 

Adding: Carmy is also very attentive. His radar goes off immediately when Sydney is upset. He tries to fix it. He’s struggling now but he wants to put in the work and won’t leave things with them at odds. He’s not too proud to apologize.

[justagirl-with-aphone]

~The coffee shop in my heart~

fem!coffee shop employee x Prohero!Bakugo

Just 3 more hours, you thought to yourself. 3 more hours and I get to go home and snuggle with my cat. You sigh, wiping up the remains of a broken glass a kid dropped on the floor. You’ve been working since 6am, its now 3pm, and understandably, you weren’t a bundle of sunshine right about now. A hectic day filled with entitled customers, and screeching little demons kids running wild, and your shitty boss on top of everything else. The only think keeping you going is the vacation you were almost saved up for, just a few more days of dealing with this bullshit and beach here I come!!

Returning to your spot at the cash register, you continue taking peoples orders. “YOU BITCH, THIS ISN’T WHAT I WANTED, GIVE ME A REFUND AND MAKE ME SOMETHING ELSE.” an angry man screamed at you, entitled people are just the best... 

“Sir, as I said several times, as much as I would hate love to fix your issue, I’m just the cashier here, I’m not the one who made your drink. However, cannot give you a refund if that is exactly what you ordered, you asked for a white chocolate mocha, and that’s what you got. We do not give refunds if you don’t like the drink. We give refunds if there’s a mistake, allergy concern, or if the drink was made wrong. Now please either step to the side or vacate the premises, you’re holding up the line.” It took everything in you to remain polite to the man screaming in your face, if he didn’t like white chocolate mochas, why would he order one? You questioned, annoyed as hell. 

Said man, ignoring everything you just said, continues to demand a refund, screaming at you for the next few minutes. Everyone else in line left from the scene, but the familiar chime of the bell above the door rings, indicating a new customer. Too busy to greet said customer, you ask the man to leave again, getting fed up with his shit. 

“Oi” a gruff voice booms, catching yours and the mans attention. 

“What do you want-” the man spins around to confront the man interrupting his tantrum only to freeze in place. 

“Leave. Now. I got places to fuckin’ be.” The ash blonde man voices, menacingly. 

The male Karen stomps out, admitting defeat. Wanting to thank your savior, you take a look at him, only to be met with piercing vermilion eyes. The man was tall, and was on the bulkier side with ash blonde hair. he came dressed in a black sweatshirt and some tech-wear pants. He was hot. “You gonna fucking take my order, or are you gonna keen drooling?” Then man asks sarcastically, apparently you zoned out. You roll your eyes at the remark and scoff, patience running thin from your encounters earlier. 

“What do you want?” you ask, no longer using your cheery customer service voice, you were drained. 

“Coffee. Black.” the man states, pulling out his sleek black card. 

“I need a name please,” you write the order and give it to the barista.

“Bakugo.” Bakugo states gruffly. nice name, you note. While your coworker is in the back making the drink, you’re left to make small talk. 

“I wanted to thank you for earlier, he wasn’t the most pleasant.” your customer service voice back on in full swing. 

“Cut that shit out. Its annoying as hell.” You look at the man confused, a little irritated. “The act dipshit.” So much for thanking him...

“And here I thought you were a nice guy helping me out by getting rid of the man. But I guess first impressions aren’t everything now are they?” you question, looking at the man. “Since you don’t want the “act,” this is what I think. I rather be anywhere but here dealing with your obnoxiousness rude self centered ass.” Grabbing the cup from your coworker, you hand it to him with a cheery fake smile and voice “Have a great rest of your day.” walking to the kitchen and exiting out the back door. Finally your shift was over. 

You were surprised the man they called Bakugo never reported what you said to your manager. What surprised you EVEN more was when he came back the next day... and the next... and the next...It became a daily thing, this went on for about 2 months. Everyday, he would walk in, order a black coffee, and annoy the shit out of you an hour. But the most surprising thing out of all of this is you started to like him being there. 

“Oi, dumbass” Bakugo greeted, in his own, interesting way.

“What’s this? No more “extra”? I’ve upgraded” You feign shock. Bakugo rolls his eyes and asks for his usual.

You feel a pair of eyes on you. While your taking Bakugo’s order, come to think of it, you’ve felt eyes on you all day. Confused by the attention, you turn to meet eyes with the man. The same guy who cussed you out before. Looking at the man, you weren’t mentally prepared for what this motherfucker was about to do. He picked up a glass of water, looked you dead in the eye and dumped it on the table. 

You were going to kill him.

You ball your hands into a fist, resisting the urge to punch his lights out. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit. ” As you’r about to walk over there with the rag you retrieved, a certain blonde snagged the rag from your hands, stomping over to where the guy sat. “Clean it the fuck up.” Bakugo growls, throwing the rag at him. ‘You thought he would’ve learned his lesson the first time, but apparently not.’ You thought to yourself while watching the man clean up the mess he made...

[absinthe-adonis]

lucien flavius x reader

warnings: pwp, blowjobs, finger sucking, mild choking, jerking off, dom!reader, sub!lucien, orgasm denial, begging

author’s note: ive never sucked a dick before unfortunately so i apologize if this is written weird. as always feedback and requests are very welcome!! i still have a nagging feeling that there are some weird clunky sentences and mistakes and/or i overused some words too much even though ive read this over three times now and sent it to two different people to read so i also apologize about that. however one of those people was a lesbian and she said “the fact that it kept me interested is extremely impressive”

“Why don’t we work on your training, Lucien?” As much as you wished he’d let you train him on more than one thing a day, you had to admit at least the days seemed to fly past when you were with him.

He looks up from the enchanting table, his face lighting up. “Really? Oh, I’ve been looking forward to this. What shall we work on this time?”

“Well.” You smile wryly. “Don’t take this personally, but I was thinking we should build up your stamina.”

His face pales dramatically. “Oh dear. You’re going to make me exercise, aren’t you?”

“Come on, come on, outside. You want to be able to hold your own in a fight for longer, don’t you?”

He groans, dragging himself dramatically toward the door. “I suppose so.”

You roll your eyes and walk out to the sprawling, vibrant yard of Tundra Homestead. Despite his complaints, Lucien is close behind you, as always.

“We can start easy,” you say, fighting back laughter at the look of dread he’s giving you. “15 push-ups. Make sure you count them.”

“Easy?! You overestimate me.” Resentfully, he lowers himself to the ground in the most dignified way he can and begins his set of very undignified push-ups. You fold your arms and watch him amusedly.

“One… two… three… f-four…” His strained, breathy voice gives you butterflies — and not in your stomach. To make matters worse, Lucien lets out a soft, broken moan as he reaches the sixth push-up. You tighten your grip on your arms, trying with all your might not to react visibly (or audibly).

His body shakes as he struggles to raise himself up and down, breathing heavily. You imagine what he would look like, unclothed and trembling beneath you, completely at your mercy-

You clasp your hand over your mouth, horrified at your own thoughts. Holy shit, this is so bad, he’s just your traveling companion, he probably doesn’t even-

Your train of thought is interrupted by Lucien exhaling loudly and collapsing on the ground. He looks up at you with forlorn puppy eyes. “Can that please be it for today?”

You nod stiffly. “Uh- yep. That’s fine. I’m gonna- I- I’m gonna- I’ll be right back.” You turn around and practically stumble back into the house.

You sit down on the side of your bed and stare at the wall, mind and heart racing. The attraction itself wasn’t even that bad- it had always sort of been there, ever since your first meeting when you asked if he was flirting and he got all flustered. It was cute. He was cute. But now, he’s hot, which is a completely and vastly different beast to deal with. And really, it’s the implications of the attraction that have you so frazzled. Also, how did such a short and simple thing drive you so insane with lust? Where did all of this come from? What if you accidentally change the way you treat him and then he feels bad or he starts treating you differently back?

The wooden rapping of knuckles against wood breaks through the deafening silence. Lucien poked his head through the door nervously. “Is- is everything all right?”

Gods motherfucking damn it. “Yeah, it’s okay, Luce. I dunno.”

“Were my push-ups really that bad?” He asks, the slight lilt in his voice and his concerned smile clearing the cloud in your mind a bit. You chuckle.

“Can I come in?”

You nod and pat the bed next to you. He sits, his knees tilted in towards you. “Do you, er… want to talk about anything?”

“I want you,” you blurt out. Lucien stares at you, mouth open.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, quickly standing up. “I shouldn’t have- oh my god, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry. You-”

You stop as he grabs your wrist, not pulling you back but not letting you leave either. “Do you mean, like-”

“Yes.”

He lets go of you, putting his fingertips to his lips. A deep coral hue floods across his cheeks. “Oh! Well. That’s- certainly something!”

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything- I especially shouldn’t have said it like that- if you’re disgusted and want me to leave, you can just say that, I won’t-”

He gives you an incredulous look. “What? No! No, that’s not what I meant at all! I’m not- I mean, I’m not… opposed??”

Your brain seems to have shut off. “You… really?

“Well, I wouldn’t lie to you!” He says defensively. “Especially not about this, that would be cruel!”

A fiery sensation begins to burn in the pit of your stomach. “Lucien.” There’s a new deep, sultry quality to your voice, sending visible shivers down his spine. He looks at you, silently, expectantly.

“Would you want to? Right now?”

He swallows. “I suppose I wouldn’t-”

You don’t even allow him to finish his sentence before you push him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him. He gasps quietly, almost paralyzed.

You straddle him, placing one hand on his waist and leaning down to run the other through his soft blond hair. “Relax,” you purr into his ear. “You can tell me to stop at any time.” You move your hand down to palm the growing bulge in his pants. He lets out a soft whimper, and the fire in your stomach begins to burn brighter. “Fuck,” you whisper. “You’re so pretty.” You move your hand back to his waist and start grinding against him, eliciting more muffled moans from his closed mouth. You run your thumb across his lips. “You like this?”

He nods fervently. “Yes- gods, that feels- really good-” His high, whiny voice is like a divine symphony. Your hands travel slowly down his sides until you slip your thumbs under the waistband of his pants, causing him to stir in anticipation. You drag them down his slim, downy legs, and slide yourself back onto your knees. He whines at the absence of stimulation.

“Sit up, Lucien.”

He inhales sharply and slowly props himself up with his arms, which you can see are shaking with nervousness and excitement.

“Now take your shirt off.”

He nods and eagerly pulls it over his head, tossing it to the side. You allow your gaze to indulgently explore his exposed body. “Look at you,” you breathe softly. “So obedient for me.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, whining again and rolling his hips forward. You reach out and hook your fingers onto his loincloth, slowly and agonizingly pulling it down to reveal his rapidly hardening cock, dripping with precum.

“Hmm,” you hum appreciatively. “Already so wet. You want me to suck your dick, Lucien?”

“Yes,” he says in a quiet, choked voice.

“Oh, you’re gonna have to do better than that, Luce. I want you to beg for me. I want you to show me that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Please,” he mewls. “Please, please, I need you- I n-need you, please make me feel good, please-” His words dissolve into incoherence as you grasp onto his thighs, your fingers sinking into his plush skin, pushing his legs further apart. He lets out high, shuddering moans as you put your lips against his cock, swirling your tongue languidly around his tip. “Fuck- oh my gods- aah-”

You continue to suck teasingly at his tip, thoroughly enjoying his taste, the heat of his skin, the high desperation of the noises he’s making. You can feel him squirming, and you can see his hands grabbing fistfuls of the sheets in the corners of your vision.

“Please,” Lucien moans. “I need more- more, please-”

You laugh softly, the vibration of the sound making him sigh wantonly. You move your head down his shaft, sucking and caressing him with your mouth and tongue. His hips buck up involuntarily, his long cock hitting the back of your throat. “Ah- sorry- fuck. It feels- so good- so good-”

You smile and reach up, grabbing his wrist and placing his hand on the back of your head. His fingers immediately lace through your hair, holding firmly onto you. “Oh my gods,” he groans, and starts slowly pushing your head up and down. You relish in his pleasure, in how perfectly his dick seems to fit in your mouth. You shift your hands to his hips, and he whines loudly, thrusting forward.

You can tell he’s holding back, trying to keep his composure. You wish you could tell him it’s okay, he can let go, but you don’t want to stop. His cock is absolutely intoxicating, and you need more of it. You want to make him completely unravel. You increase your pace, bobbing your head up and down, and using your grip on his hips to pull him closer to you, farther down your throat. He cries out your name, and you can feel him quivering beneath you. Yes. Fuck. Oh my gods. Your hands curl into claws, your nails scratching at him in blind desire. His yelps and moans only make you more and more insatiable.

But suddenly, you have an idea that makes an evil smile spread across your face. As wonderful as it would be to swallow every last drop of his cum, you want to see him. You continue to suck on him, rapidly and passionately, coaxing him towards his orgasm-

-And then, you pull back. He practically screams in agony, thrusting hopelessly into the air. You look up at his face; his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth wide open, his features twisted together in pleasure and pain. “N-no,” he gasps out. It takes every ounce of willpower in your body not to pounce on him and finish him off right there.

He opens his eyes and looks down at you pitifully, panting and twitching, leaning back on his hands. “Please, please, keep going, please-”

You climb up on top of him and then swing around, pressing yourself against his sweat-slicked back and putting your lips against his ear.

“I’m going to help you jerk off that pretty cock of yours, and you are not going to cum until I say you can.”

He whimpers quietly, and you reach forward and place your hand on his, guiding it to his throbbing dick. He wraps his fingers needily around it, and you did the same between his. He starts moving his fist up and down, but you tighten your grip and force him to slow down, to which he lets out a heavy, drawn-out moan. You splay your free hand across his smooth chest, stroking his skin, slowly traveling upward until you clasp it around his throat.

Lucien lets out a depraved keening sound, his own free hand shooting backward and finding your thigh, then clutching onto it for dear life. You look at the hopeless expression on his face, completely lost in pleasure. “That’s my good boy,” you croon in his ear, earning yourself another sweetly strangled moan.

“Please,” he stammers out, hardly able to speak. “Please let me cum, please, I want to cum, please, I need it so bad-”

“Mmm, not yet, Luci.” He groans in pain, both at your response and as you remove your hand from his. “Don’t stop, now. Keep the same pace. Be a good boy.”

“I will, I will- I’ll be such a good boy for you, please, plea-” You cut him off by shoving two fingers into his mouth, essentially having him in a headlock now. “Suck.”

He moans again around your fingers, and does as you ask. Your entire body feels as if it might burn to a crisp at any moment, seeing the pleasure he’s in because of you. He can barely concentrate on jerking off and sucking your fingers at the same time. The beautiful noises he’s making are steadily amping up in volume and desperation, and he’s becoming sloppier and shakier the more his restraint fades into utter ecstasy.

You push your fingers further into his mouth. “Does my pretty boy want to cum?” You ask sweetly. He nods and whines in response.

“Cum for me, Lucien. Show me how good you feel.” You clamp your legs on either side of his torso, spreading your fingers out in his mouth, squeezing his throat in encouragement. In a few seconds, hot streams of cum burst out of his dick, covering his hand, his legs, his stomach, the sheets, even the floor. You press hard, passionate kisses against his shoulder, cheek, and neck, everywhere you can reach, as tremors rack his body and his moans reach a heavenly climactic chorus. He calls out your name, over and over, pushing himself into you as he orgasms.

Finally, he goes limp, breathing like he had just run a marathon. You let yourself relax in the blissful intimacy of this moment, before peeling yourself off of him and gently lowering him down onto the bed, pressing a final kiss to his lips. “You’re perfect, Lucien. You did so good.”

“You,” he answered breathlessly. “You’re amazing.”

You cup his cheek in your hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

The you spend the next few minutes cleaning the mess off of him and his surroundings with rags from your bedside table, while he apologizes profusely no matter how many times you assure him it’s okay (and you actually think it’s very hot). He still doesn’t seem to have complete control of his motor skills back yet.

What a man. You already can’t wait for the next time you get to rail him senseless.

[kob131]

I’ve occasionally wondered if Hitler was really the evilest guy in history, or if we simply are more aware of how bad he was due to World War 2 being recent enough that people personally experienced his crimes.

To clarify, this is NOT a defense of Hitler. Rather, I wonder if there were tyrants in history just as bad as him, and simply aren’t thought of as such due to their crimes happening before we were born, leading to historians looking through a somewhat rosy/distant/cold/dismissive lens. And I have wondered if a day would come when World War 2 started being considered “old history”, and people start being “open-minded” towards Hitler (and therefore, dismissive to his victims).

After my most recent time wondering this, you made that post about people on Twitter defending him.

It’s already begun. I am afraid for the future.

The thing with Hitler is that he was the wrong person at the right time. Germany had just hit its lowest point with the people desperate for any kind of hope. Antisemitism was already WELL established in Germany (with Hitler himself being indoctrinated into it) and it didn't help there were quite a few rich Jews among the elite. And with the world not giving a shit and becoming complacent- Hitler struck at just the right time to cause so much devastation in Europe with enough insanity and fanaticism to attempt something like the Holocaust.

There were people just as bad as him, make no mistake. People like Mao Zhedong, Benito Mussolini and Joseph Stalin were just as bad as Hitler with many of the same ideas, rhetoric and beliefs. They just weren't as insane as he was, keeping their crimes on the relative downlow. Hitler struck right after WWI, which was so big that it was originally called the 'Great War' so obviously the man who caused the second one was gonna engrave himself pretty damn deep into history. The other guys held off on their open bloodlust until things settled down and were sane enough to keep appearances.

And mind you- people have been defending Hitler for DECADES. Nazism never truly went away, the internet just let them congregate and find each other. We intellectually know this- it's just a shock to us because we never think of actually SEEING it.

My point in all this being- don't be afraid. This shit has always been there; Hitler's notoriety was due to his timing and sheer insanity; and if we haven't collapsed into the ocean yet I doubt we will in our lifetimes.

[justcallmefox89]

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Twenty-Two

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

Masterlist

Callum and Liam battle it out and Drake chooses a side.

“Drake, I want you to consider moving to New York after Liam’s wedding.  To moving in with me.  To being with me.  Only me,” Callum says calmly, speaking to Drake but staring directly at Liam.

********************************************

A crimson flush creeps up Liam’s neck and he scowls at me.  “You cannot possibly be -”

“Ok.”

Liam whips around to face Drake.  “What?”

I can’t help the smirk that creeps across my face at Liam’s outrage.

“I think that maybe Callum is right,” Drake says, taking a deep, calming breath.  “You’re going to be starting a new life with Madeline, and you’ll eventually be having kids… so maybe it’s time for me to start putting myself first.  Doing what’s best for me.”

“And you think Callum is what’s best for you?” Liam demands.

Drake meets his gaze head-on.  “Callum puts me first.  I would have a future with him, a real one, with a family and kids and little league and not having to hide.  With Callum I would finally be enough.  So yeah… maybe he is what’s best for me.”

Liam’s outrage is palpable, so thick in that air that I can practically taste it.  And it is fucking delicious.

He clocks my grin and scowls at me.  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?  Driving a wedge between me and Drake?  Forcing him to choose between us?”

I rock back on my heels and snicker.  “I’m harder than astrophysics right now darlin’, can’t lie.”

“You are such a bastard,” Liam hisses, slamming his palms onto the countertop.

“Ooh… let it all out Your Majesty; tell the class how you really feel.”  I can feel my grin turn a little sharper and my eyes narrow.  This fight has been a long time coming and I’m more than ready.

“You have always been selfish,” Liam spits out.  “Never willing to compromise, never willing to give an inch because you were always convinced you knew best.  All you had to do was swallow a little bit of your pride, but you clearly didn’t care about me enough to make even the most basic sacrifices - ”

I bark out an incredulous laugh.  “You, you of all people, are going to try and lecture me about sacrifices?  About compromise and caring enough?  You spoiled little shit; when have you ever sacrificed anything in your entire life?  Tell me two things you have ever sacrificed for me and Drake?  Go on, I’ll wait while you think.”

Drake gaze flicks worriedly between us.  “Maybe we should take a time out and get some rest before we get into all this,” he says soothingly.

“I have greater worries than mere feelings; a literal country depends on the choice of my future spouse,” Liam says, talking over him.

“Don’t try to make this about Cordonia,” I scoff.  “This is about Constantine and what he wants.  You would be a perfectly capable king no matter who you married.”

“Given your gene pool I understand that you probably don’t know what it feels like to have an accomplished father with high expectations - ”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna punch you in the fucking mouth,” I warn him.

Liam rolls his eyes.  “Charming.  I don’t know what I thought it would be like to finally be back with you again, but the more time we spend together make me think that whatever relationship we had before was a mistake.”

The barb stings, working it’s way into my heart like an insidious shard of glass.  “Get out of my house,” I say quietly.

“Callum,” Liam says, taking a hesitant step towards me.

“I said get the fuck out of my house!” I scream, my eyes burning with the tears I refuse to let fall.

Not in front of him.  Never again.

“Fine.”  Liam stalks towards the door, stuttering to a stop when he realizes Drake isn’t behind him.  “Drake?”

Drake moves next to me, taking my shaking hand in a show of solidarity and support.  “I’m staying with Callum,” he says quietly.

Liam clenches his jaw, his fury evident.  He turns his back on us and storms out, slamming the door behind him. 

Drake winds his arms around my waist and rests his forehead against my shoulder.  “I got you,” he whispers.  “I got you.”

[good-beanswrites]

We’re so far from the end of Milgram and yet. I am thinking about finale fix-it fics. because I already know Yamanaka isn’t going to shy away from killing characters and I'm pre-sad about it. I’ve expressed some other nice options here and here, but have another! Jailbreak >:3

(Just random silly thoughts I’ve been rotating in my head, don't take it too seriously) 

This is assuming Milgram is in a physical location with mostly realistic elements. (It’s a well-funded facility, but no magic or anything besides whatever’s going on with jackalope and the no violence ban.)

Trial three is coming to an end. Es knows it will end in death, but they know it'd be going against their duty to declare everyone innocent.

A mistake is made on the outside, and a chance opportunity arises: a temporary exit appears in the prison in Es’ room. 

They notice it at night, and make the split second decision to tell the others. They race to the cells, gathering everyone one and telling them to get out immediately. 

Most of them go willingly, though a few (Yuno, Fuuta, Kotoko) are suspicious of Es’ urgency. They manage to convince them that it’s not some twisted lie – Es knows how this will end and wants to give them a chance. 

As everyone’s filing out, it becomes clear Es isn’t going to step through. They say they can’t go – even though they’re taking steps to save the others, their duty remains to Milgram. They’ll stay and face whatever consequences arise as warden. 

Mikoto is like “fuck that shit, you’re just as much as a prisoner as us and you’re coming,” to the others’ agreement. “If they’re gonna punish you for helping us than we should make it look like it was all on us,” and he slings Es over his shoulder. They all take off into the unknown facility. 

The real fun part of the fic would be when they inevitable make it past guards/scientists, climb into a military-grade vehicle, and take off with authorities in hot pursuit. (I’m still deciding who’d be funniest as driver, though I’m leaning towards Kazui doing it because he feels responsible as oldest) Cue some classic comedy-drama bickering as they screech around the complex under fire. Fuuta trying to backseat drive. Mahiru in delirious giggles that she’s helping with a jailbreak, can you believe it? Her! Shidou shielding Amane as the vehicle bumps around/takes damage. Muu pointing out they’ve been going in circles. It’s revealed the driver doesn’t have their license. Es complaining that they shouldn’t be here but knowing it’s too late to get out. There’s much screaming and celebrating and panicking and tires squealing. 

One epic car chase later, they emerge in the surrounding woods, alone. They start making plans. I’m not sure who has the most geographical knowledge, but someone is able to piece together generally where they are. Mikoto knows a good deal about getting away with a crime, and starts walking them through how they’ll need to ditch this vehicle and where to hide for the time being. Kotoko has some connections, she can find out if Milgram is associated with the government or if they should go to the authorities about them. Muu’s parents are rich and from France, she’ll have them get everyone out of the country until things are figured out. 

They plan on reaching out to their families to let them know they’re alright. After some awkward silence from Es, Fuuta starts listing all the ways you can find someone online. He gets a bit embarrassed talking about the techniques (seeing as that’s how he ended up a killer,) but Es seems grateful for the help finding out who they are and if they have any family looking for them. 

As they drive, someone points out that these plans aren’t perfect. Milgram may be better equipped or more widespread than they know. There’s a high chance they’ll still be caught and potentially killed to keep quiet about the whole experiment. 

Shidou starts saying that a doctor’s job is to extend life so people can live as long and happy as possible, even when they know it won’t last. He points out that even if this isn’t a permanent escape, the extension of their lives and their happiness is still something meaningful. After all, if they’d just stayed in the prison to be executed, they would never have gotten this one last chance to see the sun.

Then they all watch the sun rise and it’s beautiful !!!!! The end

[mareenavee]

For the Asks to Spread Love, pick and answer 3 that you haven't been asked already! 🧡

Hello again, bri!! Thanks for sending more of these for me! I've really enjoyed catching up on them and thinking through these today!

Fandom Positivity asks from this game here.

10. A popular character you actually really like and why.

I do like me some rare characters most of all lol. My perspective is a bit biased because I love the ones I love and I don't mind if they aren't "popular" per se. (:

LOL -- The obvious answer is Teldryn, right? But I'm gonna talk about

💫Neloth 💫

instead.

I think he's popular to dunk on because he's been a very big pain in the ass in the games for centuries to everyone who will listen to him. I mean, since the events of Morrowind at minimum. (:

Why do I like him? Because of how he's been written by myself and a few friends -- namely @thana-topsy, @paraparadigm (TOOTHPICK!), and @thequeenofthewinter.

I love to see how other people take this character and run with what we're given in text ESPECIALLY considering how ridiculous he is to deal with and his general attitude toward other living things.

For myself, where I write him as a long term friend of Nerevarine!Teldryn Sero, I love to use his character as an opportunity to talk about the struggle of redemption. How does one redeem themselves from a lifetime of difficult choices made to fit into a specific perception? Does this perception eventually end up becoming a core facet of who you are as a person? If that is the case, can you change? Are the consequences of your choices enough to make you irredeemable? Further, can you forgive yourself if change does not come easily or if you return to old behaviors much too easily?

He's a complicated one, I think, especially by the events of Skyrim. He's not exactly estranged from the rest of House Telvanni, but the connection is tenuous and fraught as the House is still, apparently, recovering from the Red Year. In Morrowind it was very much the opposite. There's gotta be a kind of grief to this shift under the uncaring, hyperfocused exterior.

He's annoying, yes, but very interesting to me, and so he's in my fic. And he's actually a huge part of the latter half of the book.

11. Recommend a fic with an unusual/original headcanon or characterisation that you loved.

OH I'm SHOUTING OUT @changelingsandothernonsense's Danger!JOSH (aka Nerevarine Teldryn Sero)'s Nerevar-as-a-parasite situation in Serious Mistakes.

This angry spirit, more or less, lives in the ring and speaks into Teldryn's BRAIN and sometimes drives the entire car, so to speak and I've never ever read anything like it, holy shit. I'm a beta reader for this particular project and I literally cannot yell about it enough.

It's a novelization of the Teldryn Serious mod which was already intriguing, but AH. MY GOODNESS the Nerevar situation.

Let me show you. From chapter 4:

Aren’t you meant to be looking for something? “Oh, you’re still here?” Teldryn rasped, as if saying it out aloud mattered here. You should be thanking me. Teldryn grunted in annoyance, he had a point, he hated it when he was right. His mouth was dry. He wanted to stay where he was. Sleep. You can’t stay here! Get up! Teldryn groaned. Right again – the tide was coming in, if he didn’t find what he was looking for now, then it would be gone by morning. He needed his keys. Was there an Argonian on the beach? He couldn’t remember. His head hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose, it did little to relieve the pressure. He always overdid it on the magicka, and now he was nauseous.

It's fucking cool, isn't it? (:

19. Give kudos to someone who leaves great comments.

OH GLADLY. Here's where I shout out @polypolymorph!!!

Okay so I could pick out a bunch of comments -- or novel-length responses. Each comment turns into an opportunity for a conversation and I'm always beside myself to hear back from her.

But right now, I'm still grinning ear to ear over, you guessed it. Eyestalks. Eye. Stalks.

(on this project here.)

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

It seriously irks me that people don't grasp that James Ironwood is disabled. Even then, they're SO ableist.

I fully understand what it's like to have your emotions shut off so you can do what you feel is right or what you MUST do in a certain situation. So much that you can't control when it happens or what you do during it. Seeing him CRY when his most trusted companion (he TRUSTED her with the knowledge he knew and rewarded her by making her the next candidate of the Winter Maiden) was betraying him because of his paranoia due to his PTSD? That was REAL to me. It was RAW.

Seeing toxic stans shit on the disabled asian man (who's conventionally white passing to non-asians) with PTSD is so triggering. It saddens me how he was handled. And how he became my instant favorite alongside Oz. Two of the opposing forces of team RWBY who are villains or "misguided" at best.

He's more lovable than the MCs. In what was only a singular volume.

While the MCs are SUPER arrogant and SO intolerable that fanfictions fixing the series make them better says leagues about how RWBY fell harder than Atlas.

Sorry for ranting, but my goodness. I hate how underappreciated James Ironwood is, how he's hated by most everyone and how the girls took credit for HIS plan and then condemned everyone they claimed to wish to protect to die, displaced from their home and in a kingdom that most definitely hates them and what they stand for.

He deserved so much better.

I'm having a flashback to that post saying James isn't disabled because he can walk. I just that post still breaks me I am not gonna lie.

But oh gosh I understand what you mean anon. While in my management job it was hell. I would have to push down my emotions and shut them off to get through the day because people where horrible but I couldn’t get emotional about it. Of course after being called too emotional and I tried to better control my emotions I was then accused of not caring :/.

The whole Winter and James thing is a it’s a thing and I hate it all lolZ. I hate how James is the only one to seem to care about the fight. I hate that Winter blames him for everything even stuff that’s not realistic to blame him for. I hate how it seems like Winter doesn’t give two shits about anyone. The tear itself can feel a little silly for lack of better words cuz it’s that dramatic single tear thing but like it at least shows James cares about Winter and hates what is happening unlike Winter who just takes the easy way out and decides to fight him rather then try and reach him and try and have the difficult conversation. As we see in the earlier scene where Emerald tricks him she has just given up on him without even trying and does t care that he’s suffering from PTSD and breaking from the pressure. The characters and the narrative hate him and shit all over him despite being the ones to break him in the first place.

Yea for me he became my favorite in volume 7 when we really saw what he was dealing with and the pressure he was under. I watched volume 7 during Covid after I left a really brutal management job and seeing James’s struggles reminded me so much of my own so I definitely connected with him. He’s so much more interesting because he’s allowed to make mistakes and have struggles and fail and it’s just more relatable then the mains who just….aren’t.

The mains are forced to be perfect and be seen as perfect in every action and it makes them so hard to relate to. I saw one twitter post that claimed Weiss was gaslighting herself in episode 2 when she said they screwed up. It’s kind of insane to me how fans just refuse to accept that sometimes the mains make mistakes and screw up but that doesn’t make them evil like James being flawed doesn’t make him evil.

Don’t apologize for ranting that’s what the inbox is here for! Volume 8 was a trainwreck and I hate how it ruined basically all of the characters to try and force a plot line to happen that just did not work at all and realistically would get more people killed then James’s plan would have.

James by far got screwed over the most but I think all of the characters deserve better then the bullshit we got.

[lindszeppelin]

I think most of us have lived a facade before. Maybe we seemed more well off than we were, happier than we were, had more friends than we have etc. At first we’re happy with the facade bc it’s a distraction from our reality. And hey, maybe our reality will catch up with the facade….like, it COULD happen…right? But if and when life isn’t what we wished it could be, we start to lose our fire. We keep plastering on a smile but it becomes less convincing bc we ourselves aren’t so convinced. We don’t even know how to articulate it-even to ourselves sometimes- but something in our bones just doesn’t feel right.

I feel like we’re watching Kaia experience this in real time. Hell, even without touching her and Austin with a 10 foot pole, girl has been playing the PR game from the jump. So much press about her being Cindy’s daughter. She has premiere agents, managers, and publicists who have done a good job keeping her in the press while not allowing her to do many interviews. Less is more bc it can create an illusion, especially if there isn’t a lot of substance to back it up. I don’t think Kaia is dumb, but just has more learning and growing to do. She’s also not very self aware. Did you see the red carpet interview with vogue? She sounded bitchy and moody and I couldn’t believe more comments didn’t call it out (if any did at all). Her PR team probably knows better than to book her on too many long winded podcasts. Even the short press is getting tedious as her Fallon interview did nothing to not make her look like a nepo baby and her energy was kinda weird and forced on there too. Then they kept pushing her in acting roles (probably hoping audiences wouldn’t notice how bad she is or that she would improve) and that’s beyond not something people are liking from her. Briefly touching on Austin (kinda) she’s dated only high profile men, publicly flirted with women, and last night was a big entrance to stand on her own…and it fell very, very, very flat.

Everyone on Reddit is clowning her for being so boring. I haven’t seen one positive remark. I think the master PR plan to establish her as an A lister has utterly failed. Nobody cares about her besides some random people, mostly made up of very young people and/those who are blinded by beauty and can’t read between lines.

I think on some level she knows this continues to be an uphill battle. And we’re witnessing her figure it out…hence the eyes get deader and the smile becomes less convincing. She needs to take a break and stop forcing her career. It’s honestly sad at this point.

PS- her energy getting into her van was very weird. Seemed nice at first but there’s a shot where she turns away and looks SO frustrated an instant later- I had to watch several times to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

wow anon this was so well articulated, thank you for your input. it is so interesting to see these things play out in real time. and i think the more agitated she gets, the less she is gonna care and that might lead to her making some pretty stupid mistakes. and it might also lead her to separate from Austin, because i think at a certain time she has to know that nobody cares about her unless she is linked with Austin. And that must build resentment overtime. She can't even do anything on her own without the press mentioning Cindy. there is a reason why there was a hideous fake story plotted against austin on deuxmoi on the same day of the met gala where he wasn't going to be. and there's a reason why they only come together when she has to promote something...because being with austin gets her the clout she needs. nobody gives a shit if it's just her on her own, and i think she realized that last night and couldn't avoid it. i imagine standing here waiting in line at the met for a long time gave her nothing but time to think. that's why in that interview she comes off as weird and bitchy as you said. like, she made a whole point to attend the met gala but she's complaining about it the entire time and looks like she doesn't want to be there lol. if austin had went, we would have seen her look a hell of a lot different. she would have milked her time with him. but by herself it just wasn't the same.

[gettothestabbing]

I got my air conditioner working again! Finally called an electrician, and the visit was free because apparently the problem was super obvious and easy to fix.

I wasn’t embarrassed about it when the guy was here. But when I had to tell my sister about it, I definitely was. Because I had been trying to fix it on my own, on and off, but I was pretty scared to make a mistake. I was sure I’d fry all my lights or fry myself if I did. And yet I was also reluctant to call a pro because I was dealing with car issues the same week. All I could think was “I’ll kill myself fixing this” and “I’ll never financially recover from calling a pro, I bet all my wiring is whack, and that plus the car is gonna put me in debt and then it’s so over.”

In hindsight, both fears are ridiculous.

I find it interesting that my sister, who is such an anxious person, can clinically observe my own fears and dismiss them from afar. As a result, I feel stupid and unreasonable. But when I’ve tried to help her dismiss her own fears and concerns when they get overblown, she argues for them, and even after the issue is overcome, she can’t admit to having been wrong. 

Maybe it’s just that she can’t admit it to me, but does admit it to herself. It’s hard to tell. I tell her almost everything, because that’s how I process stuff, but especially since she met her husband, she tells me much less. She processes more stuff internally, which is fine, but when you look at our convos, I come off as much more needy and emotional despite being the older sister. I don’t really have many people to talk to, so this is unlikely to change. But it’s embarrassing and annoying anyway. 

As a child, when you become an older sibling, you’re told you will have to help out and be a good example and a leader to the younger child. But when you can’t do that, or when your attempts are rejected by your sibling, it feels like you don’t really have a defined role in the family. My dad, the oldest in his family, has criticized and mocked me for not playing the older sister role better. My sister essentially took that role from me years ago: she’s more confident, social, put-together, pretty, handy, etc. She’s also already a happy wife, mother, and homeowner. (This is someone who said she would take a vow of chastity because there were no men worth her time around.) 

I can’t help but constantly compare us to other sibling-pairs I’ve known, like my dad and uncle or two family friends who are sisters. And when I make those comparisons, I don’t like what they foreshadow for my life at all. I tell myself I’m being dour and superstitious. But the longer I remain the way I am, the more I fear I’ll never be able to change into the person I want to be. Even as I continue to strive towards that ideal, and see small steps of progress, the actual final picture feels unattainable most of the time.

And I’m not like a shut-in or anything, I have achieved plenty which my sister has not. But the things I’ve done aren’t valued in our family the way her accomplishments are. On family phone calls, I’m constantly giving news about her life because I’m the one who stays in touch with people and yet her life is the one they prefer to talk about. My grandparents literally talk shit about my faith and work behind my back (confirmed by multiple third parties). But when they call I get a few polite questions about it, after I get at least half an hour’s worth of questions about my sister and her son. I’m not even that close with them, so it could be worse.

I really want to build my own family, and it just feels like it’s never going to happen, and I’ll only ever be supporting her family and our older relatives while they do the things they want, while I stay poor and increasingly isolated from them due to my work situation.