#my current fixation is their heights

[iammadeofmemoriesforlife]

Master Poll List for the Breakdown Heights of seven of the Trojans:

Cat’s

Laila’s

Cody’s

Xavier’s

Ananya’s

Pat’s

Lucas’s

I’m truly dedicated because I may have already created an doc 😂:

[scattered-winter]

Batman pirate au Batman pirate au Batman pirate au

ajdgdlsgslg anon u unburied an old au I haven't thought about in MONTHS. alas I don't have any thoughts for u rn (dc is currently on the backburner of my interests alas) BUT if u wanna check out all the old brainrotting its under the tag #batfam pirate au

[little-diable]

Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)

This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)

“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.

It could be easy, too easy almost. 

“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.

Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.

Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste. 

Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her. 

“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine. 

“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”

……

Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him. 

And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.

“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement. 

Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now. 

“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again. 

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment. 

……

The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.

“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much. 

Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top. 

How in God's name was she supposed to survive this? 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss. 

“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.

“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.” 

Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.

……

(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync. 

“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.

Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing. 

For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.

But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.

“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.  

“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils. 

……

“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”

Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”

(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her. 

The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close. 

Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs. 

“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body. 

He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.

(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”

“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin. 

Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.

Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings. 

“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.

Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him. 

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.

[osakhee]

your honor, rival attorney!wonbin x rival attorney!reader

! wonbin is a little bitch

the trial has been going on for hours. long hours. your formal attorney outfit is starting to feel tight, your skin feeling itchy each time you stood up to object from your shirt brushing against it. you speak with confidence, ignoring the panicked look growing on your client's face. yet each of your arguments meet a wall, the defendant's attorney knowing how to play his cards very well.

on the other side of the courtroom is park wonbin. even though he is young and recently out of law school, his name is often mentioned as one of the best attorney of his generation. wonbin has accepted only a few contracts, but won all of his trials, the admiration around him growing like crazy.

and currently, wonbin is looking right at you from the defendant's desk, his eyes piercing through yours with a cold gaze. yet there is something about the annoying smirk on his face that makes your blood run hot each time you glance at him. you look down at your papers, your notes and proofs while the judge talks to the defendant. you need to focus on getting your client out of the fraud he is accused of.

the wooden hammer hitting the slate makes you jump and put your papers down. since the trial started, earlier in the morning, wonbin and you have been fighting each other and throwing words like knives. yet none of you is ready to let go. and you would never give the chance to wonbin to see a little weakness, a little crack in your confidence that would make his eyes tingle and the smirk on his face grow.

"are you not going to give up?"

you meet wonbin's eyes again. behind his black hair falling in front of his forehead, his dark and playful pupils are fixated on you. for wonbin, everything seems so easy, but he has to admit you're fighting really well. the loud noise of the hammer on the wooden slate breaks the silence.

"mr park, that's enough."

the judge's words only make wonbin chuckles. he watches as you stand up, going through your notes and exposing more facts to the judges.

"your honor, i wanted to point out the fact that my client is a victim, he was manipulated into using that money-"

"you already mentioned that pretty"

you throw a glare at wonbin. he is standing, his arms crossed on his chest, barely listening to the judge asking him to keep quiet. you feel a wave of panic take over, yet you can't give up. you believe deeply that wonbin is only using intimidation -and probably his pretty eyes- to make people lose their composure.

the judge takes a deep breath, and invites you to sit back down to your desk.

"we'll be taking a thirty minutes break. the court needs to discuss the situation. we'll either take our decision today, or we'll have to schedule another trial. thank you."

the first break in hours. you get out of the courtroom to head towards the bathroom, you really need to wash your face and feel cold water slow down the flow of your blood. it would be a shame to meet wonbin on the way, in the silent corridors of the courthouse.

you walk out of the bathroom, adjusting the sleeves of your white shirt when you are met with a tall figure. wonbin stands in front of you, hands in his pockets, his formal black vest opened and his tie loosened. the smile on his face makes the blood rush back into your veins.

"taking a break pretty?"

"i don't want to talk to you unless we are in the courtroom."

he is getting on your nerves. you walk past him, not looking at him and ignoring the burning gaze you can feel on your back. but wonbin is not done with you yet. he catches your shoulder in his hand and squeezes gently, lowering his head to match your height until you meet his eyes.

"why are you trying so hard when you know you don't have a chance, hm?"

you dont reply, and wonbin clicks his tongue. not taking your silence for an answer, his grip on your shoulder tighten until you look at him.

"listen, i'm tired, you're tired, and we have twenty minutes. let's get rid of this trial with a little challenge."

"and what's on your mind?"

wonbin smiles. he walks down the corridor and you follow him. you don't even know why you're following him, you should be with your client, choosing your next arguments, telling him what to say-

"get in."

wonbin's voice stops the track of your thoughts. the door opened in front of you reveals an empty courtroom, the light dimmed by the heavy red curtains covering the windows. once you're inside, the wooden door closes with a muffle thud, woobin safely locking it behind him. the afternoon glow of the sun barely makes it inside, but it's enough for you to see wonbin under a different light. it makes his hair shiny, his eyes glittery and his lips look more glossy than before. you sit down on the defendant desk, the wood creaking under you. wonbin walks up to you, his fingers playing with his tie until he takes the knot off, letting the black tissue rest on his shoulders.

"i was thinking... we could make a little bet together."

"... go on"

"we can fuck for the trial. if i cum first, you can have your way. but if you cum first, you have to tell the judge you're giving up on the trial."

"what if i say no?"

"oh. well. you'll have regrets i guess."

"... okay, bet. but you stand no chance."

it is all wonbin needed to hear. he gets closer, his face in front of yours, his breath hovering your lips. he wastes no time, his hand grabbing your neck to drag you closer to him until his lips crash on yours. he is rough and impatient, moving harshly his mouth against yours to have his tongue make his way inside. his body presses against your chest, finding naturally his place between your legs, his other hand resting on the desk you're sitting on. when you finally opens your mouth to take a breath, wonbin slides his tongue in, asserting dominance enough to make you whine. your fingers find their way into his hair, and you hold onto it to keep yourself in touch with reality, tugging himself closer to you.

wonbin leaves your lips to trail kisses down your jaw and neck, biting your skin on his way. it makes a moan grow into your throat that finally gets out when wonbin grabs your waist and draw your hips closer to his. he lets out a laugh, rocking the bulge in his pants against the burning heat of your core.

"i prefer when you're moaning instead of talking. far more interesting."

time is ticking, and wonbin knows it. not much time for foreplay, to his own despair. he drags you down the desk, switching your position to bend you down on the wooden surface. you rest on your hands, looking back at wonbin opening his pants in a hurry. he lowers it just enough to palm himself through his gray underwear, precum making a spot grow larger at each move of his hand. he leaves the throbbing tent alone, gripping your waist into one of his hand. his palm going over your clothed ass, down your thighs to finally lift the grey formal skirt you are wearing. wonbin licks his lips looking at your panties slowly getting wetter, his fingers easily finding their way to your core to tease you over the soft fabric.

the way his nails graze sensitive points makes you squirm on the desk, each whiny breath sounding a little more like a plea for him go further. your panties are quickly pushed to the side, wonbin's fingers rubbing your folds in a slow pace before pushing them inside of you. he takes your loud moan as a positive response, his hand setting a quick pace into your heat. your voice echoes in the empty room, mixed with wonbin's low groans while he pushes his free hand down his underwear, watching his fingers disappear inside of you with ease.

he abandons his painful cock to grab his tie that was resting on his shoulder, his hand stilling deep inside of you. he presses his chest against your back, stuffing the black fabric into your mouth.

"you wouldn't want the judge song eunseok to know what we're doing, would you pretty?"

you whine into the tissue when wonbin takes his fingers out of you, watching in awe your arousal dripping down his hand. he messily lowers his underwear to free his dick, standing proud and red, precums beading at the tip and begging for attention. your skirt up your ass, wonbin grabs your flesh while giving his cock a few pumps.

"you can't win against me."

your panties are dragged to the side again, and wonbin rubs his tip against your burning folds, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. just the feeling of the heat radiating from you is enough to have him in pure bliss. he doesn't want to waste a second and pushes the head of his cock inside of you, the tightness of your core making him throw his head back, hissing between his teeth at the feeling. he rolls slowly his hips into yours, pushing much deeper inside your folds. wonbin curses in his breath when his eyes stare down at where you're both connected, grabbing the skin of your ass desperately.

his thrusts are needy, messy, yet powerful, enough to make you see stars each time his dick get deeper inside of you. your hands claw weakly at the desk to find stability, the black clothe in your mouth is wet from the drool building up. each of your breaths turn into a cry, a moan that sounds like music to wonbin's ears. he can't barely keep control, the pleasure building too fast inside his stomach, making his hips stutters against yours.

the wood creaks under your body, each of wonbin's precise thrusts makes the desk move. the sound of your muffled moans barely covers his own whines. his eyes are closed, his head thrown back, his hand in his hair. he's keeping himself concentrated on only one thing : making you cum before he does. and his sensitive body is already on the verge of giving up, the way your walls are tight and warm around him, the curve of your back arching with his moves, the break in your voice crying out his name when he hits that spot so deep inside of you... everything is made to have him lose that bet.

the said bet is far lost into your thoughts. your mind feels mushy and foggy, you can only concentrate on the taste of the tissue in your mouth, the wet sound of wonbin's dick easily slipping in and out of you and the burning sensation between your thighs. its growing stronger and fast, too fast. your legs starts shaking, a breathless chuckle coming out of wonbin at the sight. he grabs your thigh in his hands, squeezing the flesh and feeling your walls tighten around him.

"just like that pretty... trying to make me lose so hard hm?"

his voice is almost enough to send you over the edge. wonbin slows his pace, grinding ever so slowly his hips to reach as deep as he can inside of you, pressing his body impossibly closer to yours. he grips your waist to keep you in place, pushing his dick further inside. the feeling of his tip rubbing against the same spot over and over again is so overwhelming. you can't fight the sudden rush of heat that courses your body, your orgasm hitting you like never before. the pleasure makes you breathless, your mouth opening in a silent moan and your eyes closed shut.

seeing the pleasure break your body apart is enough for wonbin to reach his peak, rutting against you until the tension in his lower stomach breaks. his load erupts from his cock, flooding your insides, wonbin weakly moving his hips to make sure he's emptying himself completely. he presses his hand on your back before pulling out, watching as the thick milky liquid drip from your core and hit the wooden floor.

the metal sound of wonbin's belt tickling brings you back to reality. you feel his hand press into your sensitive heat over your fully soaked panties, just to make sure his cum is safely stuffed inside of you. you dizzily stand up, and turn around to look at him, resting against the desk for stability. his black hair is messy and some strands are stuck to his forehead, his skin glows under the dim light. wonbin neatly tucks his shirt back inside his pants, extending his opened hand in front of you. you look away and put down the wet cloth of his tie that he just hides in his pocket with a smile. you arrange your skirt down your thighs and button up your white shirt all the way up. wonbin has a cheeky smile on his face, his eyes shining with the only valid tingle : the tingle of a winner.

"loser."

"shut up."

you start walking away from the desk to reach the door. you have no idea how much time has passed but you probably don't have long before the judges sit back into the courtroom and have the trial start again. you think about the bet, the stupid bet. now you're going to make wonbin even more famous than he already is. you unlock the door and feel an arm around your shoulder and wonbin's lips press against your ear in a whisper.

"i can't wait to see you stand up with my cum dripping down you thighs when you tell the judge that you're giving up on the trial."

🪄

first work yippie :3 forever thanks to @melobin for giving me the strength to write again THIS IS ALL FOR YOU LUV 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

[bluelocksource]

Alexis Ness’ trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)

☆ Character's color: Magical Purple.

☆ Weapon : Illusion Cross.

☆ Birthday: 16th March.

☆ Current age: 18 (at the start of NEL).

☆ Zodiac: Pisces.

☆ Nickname: "The Magician"

☆ Birthplace: Hamburg, Germany.

☆ Family: Father. Mother. Older brother. Older Sister. Himself.

☆ Current height: 181 cm.

☆ Foot size: 28 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right.

☆ Blood type: AB.

☆ Visual acuity: 1.0

☆ Grip strength: 53 kg.

☆ Motto: "Magic resides in those who believe."

☆ Team: Bastard München.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 8. "First time I saw it in a stadium. I will never forget that football magic."

☆ Hobby: Discovering magic. "The world is filled with all kinds of magic!"

☆ Favorite food: Sachertorte. "The combo with whipped cream and coffee is the best!"

☆ Dislike/hated food: Herring pie. "My mom isn’t a great cook, and this one is especially terrible."

☆ What goes best with rice:  "Cheese curry, maybe. "

☆ Favorite animal: Flying squirrel. "It's cute and can fly—how fantastical!"

☆ Favorite season: Winter. "A clear winter sky makes feel like I could fly."

☆ Favorite movie: The Notebook.

☆ Favorite music: "The Rose" by Bette Midler.

☆ Favorite football player: Michael Kaiser.

☆ Favorite subject: Ethics & P.E.

☆ Weak subject: Maths & Physics.

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "Probably mushroom. They have cute shape!"

☆ Ideal type: "A strong person who can control their solitude."

☆ Fixation: Lonely expressions. "It makes me feel like I can understand their solitude."

☆ What would make him happy: "When others share in my excitement."

☆ What would make him upset: "The denial of magic I believed in." 

☆ What he thinks his strength is: Valuing the invisible (feelings, wishes, thoughts).

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: Stubbornness. "Not bending on what I believe in (though I don’t really think of it as a weakness)."

☆ What made him cry recently: “I can’t remember. I cry often. My tear ducts are very sensitive... Hehe ♪”

☆ Usual sleeping hour: 6.5 hours.

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 10. "It seems they were delivered to my team! Thank you!"

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: His arms.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I’d probably consult with Kaiser. I might say something like “I don’t need this crap,” though!"

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "I didn’t have that kind of thing at home. So I prepared my own stockings. Not that he ever came."

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: "Anything was fine. Anything at all."

☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Training with Kaiser. Eating with Kaiser. Shopping with Kaiser. With Kaiser... etc."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "I hope for a miracle so that day won’t actually be the last."

☆ Favorite historical figure: Joan of Arc.

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: "I wonder if I would still believe in magic."

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "Kaiser. Wait, is a human not allowed? Then I don’t need anything."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The past. "I would hug my younger self, who believed in magic and cried alone, and tell them, “It’s okay to be just as you are.”"

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[exactlymaximumgarden]

hi ;) i love your lc!schlatt writes can you write some fluff w him

hi anon! for sure i can. this is definitely a little self-indulgent so sorry abt that looool

the cacophony of voices echoing from inside the lunch club house is currently muffled as you and schlatt sit outside. it’s a rare occasion - a cool summer’s night in los angeles. you can pick out various members’ voices distinctly, although for the most part, they blend in with the thick aussie drawl from the misfits. as much fun as your boyfriend has filming with his friends and getting to collaborate with other content creator groups, sometimes he just needs a breather. tonight is one of those nights.

you peer out of your periphery to check on how he’s doing. he stands beside you, elbows propped on the balcony’s edge as he gazes wordlessly up at the stars. his chocolatey eyes glimmer as they fixate on the sky while the moonlight casts a pale glow on his skin. it’s almost hard to tear your eyes off him.

“i see you starin’.”

you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice ringing out. you were so lost in your daze that you practically forgot he was a sentient being and not just a statue you could admire.

“is that so bad?” you reply teasingly, trying to cover for your being caught.

“nah.” he turns his head to fully face you, his signature grin adorning his lips. “i like when you do that.”

“yeah? why’s that?”

“gives me an ego boost to know someone as pretty as you thinks i’m worth starin’ at.” he playfully nudges you with his hip as you scoff.

“smooth.”

“how’d you guess my middle name?” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes at his pathetic attempts at flirting as his arms snake around your waist. your height difference makes it so easy for him to rest his chin atop your head, but you don’t really mind. a cool night breeze dances through the air, lightly tickling both of your faces as you stand there wordlessly. the only sounds now are your soft breathing and the rowdy voices coming from inside the house, which are beginning to fade further and further away as you allow yourself to relish in this moment with schlatt.

this is what peace feels like.

it might be seconds, minutes, or hours before you speak next. you can’t tell. time doesn’t seem to function like it should when it’s just the two of you. “should we go back inside soon?” you whisper. “the others might be wondering where we went.”

“who cares?” he murmurs in response, his grip on your waist tightening as he tilts his head down to press a kiss to your cheek. “let ‘em wonder. i want a little more time with my baby.”

you can’t bite back your grin, relaxing into his lanky form behind you. “can’t argue with that one.”

“good.” his answer comes accompanied by a soft chuckle. you tilt your head back instinctively, wanting to catch the traces of his laughter on his face before they fade, only to meet his adoring gaze already glancing back down at you. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know that? so beautiful.”

“schlatt!” you whine his name, growing increasingly flustered at his compliments. he doesn’t frequently dole them out verbally simply due to his awkwardness, but when he does, they set your heart aflutter. 

“i mean it!” his hands slide down a short distance from your waist to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze to catch your attention. “i love ya, baby. i really do.”

even in the dim night light, the both of your blushes are clearly visible to the other.

“and i love you.”

[lovingseventeen]

braiding svt’s hair 

a/n: wholesome, but also some crack i guess LOL 

seungcheol: 

✿ agreed without giving much thought to it 

✿ up until you had to pull a few strands a bit tighter because they were shorter

✿ “HE-hey!” he half-yells, remembering that he doesn’t ever want to raise his voice at you 

✿ “sorry cheol” you say, still too fixated on getting his braids done to notice how sulky he’s getting 

✿ “enjoy this now, it’ll be the last time” he says, a very noticeable pout in his voice 

jeonghan:

✿ bros beautiful 

✿ he had no problem letting you braid his hair because he did have his hair in a braid before when it was significantly longer 

✿ his hair is medium length currently, so you don’t have to pull too hard for him, and you give him this style that has two braids that meet at the back of his head

✿ “can’t believe this suits you so well, hannie” you tell him as he looks in the mirror, his fingers gracing his hair so elegantly

✿ “ay, c’mon no one’s prettier than you” he replies, coming to place a kiss on your cheek 

joshua:

✿ he actually usually braids your hair when you ask him to 

✿ one day you offer to braid his so you two match 

✿ naturally, he’s agreeing 

✿ he’s so smiley when you match - ofc you have to take pictures together 

✿ it definitely becomes his new lock screen 

jun:

✿ would never say no to you 

✿ tilts his head back when you start tugging, “baaabe” and you have to tell him to hold still 

✿ gives you a thumbs up afterwards because he doesn’t look bad, he figures

hoshi:

✿ ofc you gotta braid your babygirl’s hair 

✿ he feels so dainty after you give him two little braids  

✿ keeps forming a “v” with his hands to frame his face LOL 

✿ highkey, he looks good though, would probably eventually ask you to actually try styling his hair and he’d give his stylist a reference photo in the future 

wonwoo:

✿ also rarely says no to you 

✿ he sits patiently on the floor as you sit on the couch because of his height 

✿ “wonu you look so cute” you gush, cupping his cheeks after giving him a little crown with his braids 

✿ he smiles in return, “as long as you’re happy” 

woozi:

✿ you’re running your hands through his hair as he plays a song guide, he likes when you do this 

✿ you’ve been noticing his fringe has been getting longer, “you want me to help get your hair out of the way?” you ask 

✿ “could you?” he replies, sitting up to make it a little easier for you 

✿ you do a little braid that will keep some of the shorter strands in place, freeing his forehead 

✿ he checks your work when you finish, surprised at the little braid but thankful nonetheless, placing a kiss to your hand 

✿ “thank you, i’ll try to wrap this up soon” 

dokyeom:

✿ “‘kyeomie, would you let me braid your hair?” you asked in boredom one day 

✿ he’s nodding, already trying to find where to sit to make it easy for you, “where do you want me?” 

✿ you giggle, telling to sit on a stool and that you’ll stand 

✿ highkey loves it when you finish, his eyes crinkle when he smiles “i feel pretty” 

✿ you almost can’t believe how adorable your boyfriend is, “that you are” you smile back :’)

mingyu:

✿ also a WHINER 

✿ you’re not even pulling his hair the way he’s claiming 

✿ he’s gasping and whining at every tug regardless of how much force you’re actually using 

✿ “babe!” he whines when you actually give him one tug ✿ becomes so pouty even when you finish his braid without pulling hard 

✿ he’s bringing a hand to his scalp and there’s a very obvious pout on his lips going, “why do you hate me” 

✿ you jokingly roll your eyes, “you know for such a tall man, you’re a baby” 

✿ he doesn’t care lmao, he’ll use you ‘hurting him’ as an excuse to be clingy that day 

minghao:

✿ his hair is starting to get longer but management says he isn’t allowed to get it cut yet 

✿ has been opting for a half ponytail recently but he also wants something different 

✿ “do you know how to do something to tie my hair back?” he asks you

✿ you do this little braid that keeps his main fringe out of his face and sort of just tucks it behind one ear 

✿ your boyfriend looks very elegant when you finish, slightly feminine but it’s never something that bothered him 

✿ kisses the side of your head as a thank you 

seungkwan:

✿ doesn’t tell you that you’re actually hurting him 

✿ he just sits there quietly so you had no idea that you were pulling a bit hard

✿ you only find out when you find him looking in the mirror after and wincing as he touches his scalp 

✿ “seungkwan, is the braid too tight?” 

✿ “yeah” as he looks away PLS 

✿ “you should’ve told me!” you exclaim, immediately feeling bad. you take his arm to get him to sit as you quickly take out the elastic and undo his braids

✿ “i’m sorry, baby” you tell him after, kissing the top of his head 

vernon:

✿ you actually end up braiding his hair for fun because he fell asleep in your lap 

✿ he actually only notices when he goes to the bathroom when he wakes up and sees himself in the mirror 

✿ walks back out to you with eyebrows raised as he points to his hair

✿ “i got bored?” you offer 

✿ “okay” he replies simply, he keeps them in anyway because there isn’t an urge to take them out 

✿ soon realizes that he appreciates his hair being out of his face 

✿ might ask you in the future to give him one braid at home because he likes it 

dino:

✿ is HURT that YOU hurt him 

✿ “baby-baby wait” he whines, a hand coming up to touch his scalp 

✿ “it’s not that bad i’m almost done-” you tell him as you pull again

✿ dino lets out this yelp before you tie an elastic at the end 

✿ “did i do something to you recently?” he genuinely asks, “because i’m sorry, whatever i did, i get it” 

✿ take the braids out soon pls 

[mrhaitch]

Hii Mr.Haitch , hope you and and your family are having a wonderful time 🎀

I wanna know what is your opinion on Nanami Kento , I mean idk if you read or watched the show but you must’ve heard it Alot from Haitch right ? Do you think you’re similar to him in a way people think ?

I personally think you’re like a mix of nanami, higurama and geto (well again that’s just me)

Also what did the Haitch family dress up as for halloween 🤭

Well it's currently 6:10am on Halloween so not much has happened. I unfortunately have to go to work for a bit today to get things prepped for the latter half of the term (we've covered all the topics, now it's time to get things embedded). We're not going to be dressing up, as Halloween isn't a big deal here but I think Haitch and I will likely start our replay of Resident Evil Village tonight and order in some food.

I wrote something about Nanami a little while ago, which is here:

Personally, I don't really see it. There are some visual similarities: similar height, similar build (more first season than second, but we'll see where I'm at when my current training cycle ends), similar hair both in colour and style etc., but in terms of character - I don't see it. He's highly fixated on rules and order where I'm a chaotic gremlin who delights in mischief and disobedience.

Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc, as the Addams family motto goes.

For Higuruma, I've seen so little of the character I can't comment. As I said in a previous post - he's very "lawyer man likes justice", and while I'm sure there's more depth there I haven't really seen it.

Perhaps it's a difference between how I seem and how I am - appearance and substance. I can appear to be quite stern, aloof, detached but at base I think I'm quite a warm person that wants the best for people, while being very scatty, and plagued by a suspicion that I am unworthy in some fundamental way. Call it a suspicion of rot, somewhere deep in my character.

Geto is a new one, though.

[ghostly-penumbra]

Reflection

Ao3

Summary: Danyal reflects on the mending and burning of bridges.

Inspired by this post.

- - -

Danny stared and stared some more at his phone’s screen, undecided on what he wanted to do.

Somehow, he had seen his brother again.

Damian had grown, just like him, not just in height but as a person.

He was now an established vigilante, a champion of justice in his own right, an ally of the Justice League, fighting evil and protecting the weak.

He was a completely different person from the little boy that had ran him through with a sword at the behest of their grandfather, with a disgusted glare as he stared down at his dying twin.

He was good now.

But in truth, he was the boy that had killed Danny, the brother that he had wrongly trusted, and thought could be on his side.

Danny sighed, dropping his phone in his lap and wondering not for the first time at how they had ended up being so different, already back in the League, how had Damian not been able to see how wrong things were, when they had been raised together, and Danny had realized it early enough? Realize that the soldiers were��people, and not just props or tools to be discarded –to be killed – on a whim.

Well, Damian seemed to have realized it by now, been taught better, like all he needed was for someone to talk sense into him.

Why hadn’t Danny’s pleas been enough?

And there was also… their… extended family. Their father, the Batman, and all the people he had brought with him.

Most of them had been… tentative, he would say, in the short time they had interacted. They saw that it was a tense situation and had handled themselves with care, hadn’t pushed Danny, but still showed they would welcome him if he decided to approach. That was nice of them.

The mater of his father, though…

Danny had thought, over and over as he smuggled himself from country to country with mother’s help until they had to cut contact least they be discovered by the League, about seeking his father, the mighty warrior that even his grandfather respected, someone who could protect him from the League.

Then he had found out about Robin, and decided against leaving one child-soldiering life for another.

Then he had met the Fentons, and he didn’t regret it one bit.

(He understood now, though, that the vigilante life didn’t respect ages, and sometimes you just had to step up, because you could, and no one else.)

And now he had the chance to have it all if he wanted. But if he did, it’d have to be everything, he couldn’t be cherry-picking what he wanted and what not, it was all or nothing.

“Nothing it is.” He deleted the number from his phone and the memory of it from his mind, and the slip of paper it had been scribbled on was burnt in green fire along with the communicator Batman had handed him (hesitant, hopeful, beneath his calm façade), and ended up in his trash bin once it stopped radiating heat.

Even if he wanted to have that part of his family, he didn’t want anything with Damian, and he wouldn’t make them choose between the two of them. The Bats were Damian’s and the Fentons Danyal’s, and that was it.

And maybe, just maybe, he would be broken all over again if they all chose his killer over him.

- - -

There is a post on tumblr that uses "Get in the Water" from EPIC: The Musical (my current fixation), where Danyal gives Damian a good scare for having killed him and things spiral from there for the bats. I love it very much.

I don't actually hate Damian or anything (i don't really care for his character, but the bats are a package deal), but as an abused sibling i've always hated with a passion the whole "forgive your abusive sibling uwu, they did't know any better u.u" fuck that noise. Even if they change and grow to be a better person, you don't have to forgive your abusers or be part of their lives so that they feel better. Fuck that very much.

i'm a bit of a hypocrite tho, since my fave is Jason and i forgive him the Titan's Tower incident (but if what i've read about Tim talking shit about Jay after he became Robin is true, then I won't even excuse him. shoulda hit 'im harder. i'll have to check that). alas i also don't care for Tim so i don't really read as much on his relationship with Jason. it's complicated but I wrote what i wanted.

please feel free to leave your opinion! on the subject, on the fic, i'd love to read it!

[techramonic]

The most ironic thing about Elliot Rodger is that in his attempt to prove that all women are shallow, he proved that not all women are shallow.

My Twisted World: An Analysis on Elliot Rodger's Manifesto

This is a great take. Thank you! I've been meaning to talk about this matter after reading the first few pages of Elliot's Manifesto.

note: Thank you for Antimatter_42 on reddit, since a lot of the information sourced on this analysis was from their reddit post, “Elliot Rodger: A Psycho-Lingustic Profile” on r/TrueCrimeDiscussion. Other information is from my own analysis while reading Elliot Rodger’s Manifesto: “My Twisted World”.

Elliot Rodger was actually a normal guy. People on reddit would often question why this guy was lonely. Why did no one consider him attractive enough to be in a relationship with him? He had the looks, the wealth, practically almost everything a girl would want, right? The reason why no one approached him was because he was shallow.

Here are some of the aspects of his personality and life that could better explain why:

CHILDHOOD

I currently have been reading his manifesto and he had a seemingly good childhood. He was a nice kid who lived a nice life. Up until his parent’s divorce. Even until then, he would still spend time with both sides of his family, who both treated him with wealth. On his first birthday, he had already been to France, then lived in Sussex, went on a vacation to his mother’s home country Malaysia, took a trip to Spain, then Greece, then grew up from ages 5 to 9 in California. He travelled a lot.

First observation, he places so much of his worth on materialistic things that it fully consumes him when he fails to become what he isn’t. He has exhibited this fixation at a very young age. Just when he moved to Topanga Elementary School, by the age of six, he had already developed a view on the world that separates people by their differences: the “cool kids” and the “losers”. He considered the cool kids as the higher-class, the ones who are privileged with garnering attention even if they did the bare-minimum. He even went so far as to dye his hair blonde to appear more white because of the predominantly white population, and even tried to pick up on skating because he thought it would make him cooler. This was the first red flag, because instead of accepting things and bettering himself, he chose to change aspects of his life to better fit people's "standards", when in truth, that was only a standard he set for himself because he was insecure.

RACIAL HIERARCHY

Elliot is an interesting case because he has no sense of self-worth. He is so fixated on hierarchy that he constantly demeans his own kind. He’s very racist, particularly and most fixated on Asians. Elliot is Asian-European himself, his father is English and his mother was of Chinese descent. Yet he was so focused on how this makes him less because he considered whiteness as a prestige. He has made several comments regarding how no woman would find Asian men to be attractive and it seems like he has placed whiteness on a pedestal that somehow is highest in the racial hierarchy.

He was also very fixated on his looks. He was vain, to be short. He has repetitively mentioned how he hated his hair, his looks, and even his height. From things he can control and others of which he can’t, all these aspects of him seem to tie into him being mixed. He thought that this difference further alienated him when in truth, it really didn’t. Sure, he was bullied for being physically weak and short but he shouldn't blame that on his descent, for that wasn't something in his control. He could've went to the gym and worked on himself, it might've helped him feel better, but he then only saw this problem as "being mixed is a form of inferiority", because this made him “undesirable”. He is not as fair-skinned, he is blonde, he didn’t have blue eyes, and he was not as tall as the other kids simply because he was not them. He changes parts of himself to better fit the narrative of being “cool”. To him, it’s all a part of growing up and fitting in but he fails to see that the more he takes parts of himself for people to like him and focus on him, the more it just makes him hollow.

Elliot’s childhood and teen years, best summed up, is a fixation on trying to keep up with those who are higher on the social status ladder and this continued to his later years.

EXPOSURE TO PORNOGRAPHY AND SEXIST / MISOGYNISTIC MEDIA

He was also more lonely during his teen years, 13 years old according to his manifesto, he stopped having contact with his only friends because they started having their own separate lives together, making him spend more time alone by himself (Rodger, 2014, pg. 38). This was when Elliot first recounted his exposure to pornography by catching a teenager watch it on Planet Cyber.  He said he was “traumatized” by how two people could do such a thing and call it love. He didn’t know about sex up until then and this explicit exposure truly “damaged” him, according to his words himself. Though he did feel aroused, he was more guilty and confused.

This was the pinnacle of Elliot’s misery. A kid who searches for validation with his looks, now searches for it with sexual gratification as well. He only found himself as wanted if girls flocked over to him. He had the misogynistic mindset that his worth is only measured by how many girls he could get and how fast he'd lose his virginity. Especially with the stereotypical portrayal of media influencing teen boys with the concept of "cool" guys having lots of girls, treating them like objects and trophies, while nerds and "losers" have none. With this, he did not even make any effort to do his part. It was almost always one-sided, his friends would say, where he would expect women to just swoon over him because he exists, because he is a man. 

ENTITLEMENT

Furthermore, initially, his middle school years at Pinecrest were pleasant according to him. He even talked to girls and even danced with a girl during a school dance (Rodger, 2014, pg. 29). However, things eventually became difficult as he found it harder to socialize and was also bullied in his later years. According to his friends, he barely even talked to women but still complained no woman wanted to talk to him. He just expected them to approach him.

Elliot also had  a record for being entitled or spoiled. Even as a kid, he would complain about things that were small, like when on his first birthday, he cried that his friend got the first slice of his cake, which was understandable but still relatively small; or when he refused to sit crossed-legged for his class picture and was the only boy who didn’t do it after the teachers gave up on persuading him; or when he threw a fit that he didn’t get his hair fully-dyed as blonde because the hairdresser said he was too young. This transcended to his adult years.

More on his latter years in life, he attended Pierce College and found it rather pleasant compared to former schools, but after a while, found it disheartening after seeing a lot of couples on campus, which shifted his fixation from school to getting a girlfriend, so much so that he dropped out and enraged his step-mother. Elliot had this hatred for his step-mother, Soumaya, which was mentioned in the book as well. He considered his dad to be “weak” for following her orders around, when in truth, she was only trying to teach Elliot a lesson about independence.

At his mother’s insistence, Elliot began looking for a job and eventually found work with a family friend on a house construction project. He felt more comfortable with this job, seeing it as helping rather than typical employment. After getting his driver’s license, Elliot enrolled in summer classes at Moorpark College but struggled with attendance, again due to his jealousy of campus couples. He dropped out midway through, briefly worked as a janitor at an airport office, and quit after one day. Knowing his mother would be upset, he reenrolled at Moorpark but eventually dropped out again (Rodger, 2014, pg. 70). Upon learning of Elliot’s decision to drop out again, his parents decided he would move to Santa Barbara, where he would live alone in an apartment paid for by his mother, receive a $500 monthly allowance from his father, and enroll in classes at Santa Barbara Community College (Rodger, 2014, pg. 77). 

CONCLUSION

Elliot is insistent on the idea that “women are shallow.” when in truth, it was him all along. No man is entitled to force a woman to give them their love and attention, even to buy it off of them. No one has absolutely any obligation to love someone because the other sees it as a form of acceptance or validation. Self-worth comes from yourself, not from others. 

Due to Elliot’s constant fixation on trying to be accepted, he lost himself and the identity that made him authentic and less shallow. If only he stuck to being genuine, then surely, he wouldn’t have been so lonely. It’s like seeing a kid who was sheltered all his life finally open his eyes to the cruelty of the world and because he thinks he can get whatever he wants, he feels disgustingly hateful whenever he doesn’t.

Additionally, due to the unfortunate events that have subsequently happened in the later years of his life, he was driven to a point of madness. His best friend ended their fourteen-year friendship due to Elliot's constant complaints about not having a girlfriend, his stepmother cut ties with him,, he got beaten up while he was drunk and desperate to find a girlfriend, the cherished gold necklace given to him by his grandmother was robbed, further drove him to the tragic decision to commit his crime and suicide.

Concluding, Elliot was the epitome of shallowness. He wanted everything even if he did the bare-minimum. It wasn’t the problem of the second party, it was him, and because he never realized that and only further saw gratification of his actions from both the media and guys who sympathize with him because they also could not get women themselves and are too caught up with their misery to work on themselves instead, he was convinced that his crime was the only way for the world to give him the attention he desperately wanted.

[re-colligere]

The Gene Archives: General Art

Inside Out art that aren't shippy and such! No specific topics except for my fusions, so have fun. These are mostly from the height of my fixation (2015-2016), with some as recent as 2017-2018.

Fashion Disaster | Other Ships

First evar inside out fanarts I THINK? Fear's was made in February of 2015. Sadness and Anger were made in March. I redrew these three HERE!

Drawn and finished when the movie finally premiered where I am. August 2015

The arguerrrrrrs, 2015 and 2016 redraw. Really loved these two drawings, and I think the second one was drawn when I just got my drawing tablet AKJDHF

This was for some contest on DA I think, during Halloween.

Just some random doodles!

These were fanarts for an Inside Out fic I really loved, called Out of Place by Coffee Fueled Author! Unfortunately it's unfinished but I reread it for the first time in years and it's still really good. AUGH

A couple of sadnesses, teehee :] The last one was a "stained glass"-esque project with cellophane and illustration board that i never finished. I still have it with me. I probably should finish this actually..

Girls in flower dresses. Disgust's was made first, I think Joy and Sadness's were made at the same time. Wedding moments?

Me and my emotions from 2017, originally for a DA contest. I've been MEANING to make a lineup of my own emotes... I just can't decide how they'll Look....

This was drawn during the 3rd anniversary of the 1st movie coming out :]

Humanization lineup from 2018 that I never posted anywhere I don't think? Mostly because I wasn't really happy with the designs I gave them at the time, pfft. It really took me this long to find the designs I'm satisfied with LMAO

FUSIONS

Oh my god these designs. These were the first few fusions I made! From left to right: Aversion (Fear/Disgust), Thrill (Joy/Fear), Awe (Joy/Disgust), Contempt (Anger/Disgust), Hesitation (Fear/Anger), Disappointment (Anger/Sadness).

More pixel fusions. First one is Passion (Anger/Joy). I uh have No idea who the second one is, I THINK that's Joy/Sadness but I'm legitimately not sure - they're the only pair here without a fusion if that's not the case. I think the two fusions beside Contempt are Pensive and Anxiety, who are Both Fear/Sadness fusions? and next to them is Shame, Sadness/Disgust.

Some animated pixel dolls from 2016! Aversion, Frustration, and Melancholy. I wanted to update the designs to match my current tastes. I was planning to do all of them but, I lost steam trying to animate so much stuff, so...

...I made this lineup instead! From left to right: Thrill (Joy/Fear), Contempt (Anger/Disgust), Awe (Joy/Disgust), Melancholy (Joy/Sadness), Aversion (Fear/Disgust), Frustration (Anger/Sadness), Passion (Joy/Anger), Anxiety (Fear/Sadness), Hesitation (Fear/Anger), Shame (Sadness/Disgust).

[liskantope]

In the midst of this discussion, I have to paraphrase a bit but the following was actually expressed:

Both (straight) women and (straight) men have a problem with insisting on impossible standards in the dating market. So many women nowadays want a man who is six-foot-something, in finance making six figures, not overweight, etc., and they don't realize that it's a very small percentage of men who satisfy all of those criteria. And men make this mistake too: they want a woman who is not on the left, not taking some kind of antidepressent, not overweight...

I know it could be viewed as just a silly flippant comment by an early-20's conservative cultural commentator, but I... don't even know how to feel about our current times where it's even halfway credible to suggest the analog of "over six feet, six figures" (as an unreasonable standard) is "not on the left, not on antidepressents". That's just weird in multiple different ways, yet has enough of a vague ring of plausibility about it that someone might actually say this.

A day or two after I saw part of the above-linked podcast episode, Aella published a post which opens by mentioning a study result saying that women (in 2006!) equally value a man being 6' instead of 5'6'' and a man making an additional $175k a year. I had to double-check to make sure I wasn't misreading that salary increase figure by an order of magnitude. (The study also shows that being 5'11.5' instead of 5'8'' -- my height on a good day -- is equivalent to $138k difference in income.)

I know I'm probably just fixating on particularly dumb comments/data, but the dating world continues to look depressing, folks. Well, at least as long as it continues to be predominantly online.

[how-serene]

can I get anything jack delroy please? Thank you!

The Way A Fool Would Do

Pairing - Jack Delroy x Neutral!Reader

Summary - It's 2 am, and Jack is drunkenly in love with you.

Word Count - 668

Warnings - fluff, reader is wearing a dress, pet names, drunk!jack

A/N - this is a little cheesy, I won't lie. sorry for the long wait!

You giggled, leaning back to escape the feathery kisses Jack peppered across your face. His grip on your waist was secure, preventing you from squirming in his hold. A few wisps of dark hair had escaped his perfectly combed hairstyle, you resisted the urge to tenderly brush them pack into place. He looked as if he had walked straight off set and into your shared living room, wearing a chestnut colored two piece suit and black buffed dress shoes that shined brighter than New York’s city lights. You had half a mind to believe this was a dream, that he was still at the studio, tirelessly smiling into the black lens of a camera. 

The faint bitter smell of whisky that invaded your nose as his lips ghosted over your cheek were a dead giveaway though. He was here with you, and currently drunk. 

“C’mon darling, dance with me,” he urged, beginning to pull you towards him. A record spun on the turntable, the melodic harmonies of The Cleftones filling the large space.

You firmly placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back.

“It is one in the morning, and you’re drunk,” you chided, trying to fight back the growing smile on your rouged lips. 

Jack chuckled, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. “Now what does that have to do with anything?” 

“I just don’t want to see you fall on your ass.” 

He grinned, glassy eyed as he leaned forward, like a flower towards sunlight. Jack always seemed to find himself bending towards you, no matter if there was a height difference or not. Something had tethered itself around his soul, forever pulling him in your general direction. 

His grip on your hips tightened, bunching the soft fabric of your dress in his palms. He thought about how pretty you looked earlier tonight, waltzing around the house. The edges of the dress swishing around your bare calves, moving with you. There were times he would playfully pull you down in his lap, if only to feel the soft material that complemented your body. He gazed at you now, admiring the lamp's soft glow that splashed over your features like the morning sun. His fingers began to tremble, as the warm sight of you squeezed around his heart. 

Devotion was too small of a word, he decided, for what he felt.

The Cleftones' voices faded off, before their next song “Heart and Soul” began to spill from the speakers. If there was one thing Jack learned from being in show business, it is when to seize an opportunity. 

Jack took your hand in his, and gently placed a kiss on your knuckles, lingering a second longer than needed. 

“I’m very light on my feet, sweetheart,” he said, winking at your flushed face. 

With not even a moment to react, he spun you around in time to the music. 

A sudden gasp left your lips, as Jack pulled you back to him. His laughter rang out, drowning out the vocalist. Your heart thudded in your chest, watching as his black coal eyes stayed fixated on you. 

“You’re not a bad dancer yourself,’ he joked, pressing his palm on the flat of your back. You rolled your eyes, letting your head fall on his shoulder as he gently swayed with you. The rich, earthy scent of his cologne washed over you, creating a buzz in your chest at the reminder that he was home. Your eyes fluttered shut, as the music cocooned your swaying forms. 

“You’re going to keep me up all night, Mr Delroy,” you said, smiling to yourself. 

He hummed, nudging his nose against the side of your head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of your hairspray. 

“Oh I plan to, darling.” 

The night carried on, as Jack’s hand wandered over your body, tracing the seams and lines of your dress. Lost in the sensation known as you. 

‘Heart and soul I fell in love with you Heart and soul The way a fool would do’

[amrcnnightmre]

Hi I see you take requests. Would you write a CM Punk x wrestler!fm!reader? Maybe one where him and Drew McIntyre are in the height of their feud, and Drew gets the reader hurt during a match. Angst, love, you know lol

I’ve got you - C.M Punk

All fics posted are my original work, feel free to reblog but DO NOT repost thank you!! I haven’t thoroughly edited this so apologies if there’s any errors! All rights are reserved for my writing and any ocs that may be included, please don’t steal and as always.. happy reading!

My Masterlist

CM Punk x wrestler!fm!reader!

( tw: angst, fluff, injury, slight worry & panic )

Word count: 1,9K !

requested.

A feud between Punk and McIntyre had gotten to an all time high, both at each others throats constantly and the person in the middle of it all — y/n. Drew found just about all the ways he could to get under CM Punks skin but dragging y/n into the mix brought a whole other level of anger out of Punk, she was his long time partner after all.

Punk and y/n have been together almost 11 years now, their relationship Is as strong as ever. There is nobody who has supported him more then she has, you see him and you know y/n is never far behind — she always had his back.

The action of Monday night was in full effect— bright lights, loud pumped up crowd members and eager superstars ready to take to the ring for each of their scheduled matches. Y/n stood backstage with a furrowed expression as her gaze remained fixated on one of the many screens showcasing the action currently taking place beyond the curtain. Drew was getting the upper hand on his opponent Jey Uso while Punk sat ringside at the commentary desk, saying just about anything to distract the Scots man — a smug expression laced effortlessly on his face as he spoke to the two men next to him.

Y/n had been warming up for her own match that would take place later that night when her attention was caught by the screen closest to her, she wasn’t suppose to get involved in this match but watching drew get in Punks face and yell all sorts of insults the way he did just set her off. It took her no time at all to reach the gorilla, quickly asking one of the backstage tech crew to hit her music before she slipped out of the curtain towards the ring.

A sly smile graced y/n’s lips as she innocently skipped her way down the isle, her hands interlocked behind her back. Punk’s expression twitching slightly in confusion but he quickly hid it with a smile. “ladies and gentleman that is Cm Punks longtime partner y/n heading towards the ring, what is she doing out here during this match” Michael Cole exclaimed as he looked toward punk who responded almost immediately — “your guess is as good as mine Cole, you can’t tame a woman like her” he chuckled lightly to hide any concern in his tone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think y/n could handle herself but Drew was on a ruthless streak of aggression lately that Punk just didn’t trust. Y/n’s smile didn’t fade once as she locked eyes with Drew, Anger flashing across his face as he almost became distracted for a moment. She waved at him mischievously from ringside, the match continued until Drew began to get the upper hand, y/n was not going to let that happen on her watch — not after everything he had put her family through. Y/n climbed up on the ring apron with ease, immediately getting the referees attention in order to cause a distraction and as if on cue Punk slipped away from his spot on commentary and into the ring, a steel chair in hand.

Jey Uso was sprawled out on the mat from prior attack curtesy of Drew, Punk smirking at the Scots man across from him as he rose the chair above his head preparing to slam it down on Drews back that was turned away from him. The next few moments were a blur, happening quicker than anyone could even process, Drew turned and grabbed the chair in the process — nailing Punk in the face with a hard blow from his right hand, it caused such an impact that the man tumbled to the mat and it would now be the Scottish warrior holding the chair above his head.

Drew reeled the chair back as if preparing to strike Cm Punk with the cold steel, turning to his left instead and shocking everyone in attendance — he hit Y/n. The chair nailed Y/n right in the head before she had time to process it, the impact so loud you could’ve sworn it cracked her skull. The refs eyes were wide as Y/n tumbled off the apron and hit the floor with a rough thud. “should’ve kept your girlfriend at home where she belongs!” Drew growled at Punk with a sly grin, The rage that surged through Cm punks veins was unlike any other the moment he realised what had just transpired and within seconds he snapped.

An all out brawl ensued between the two men until Adam Pierce the Raw general manager came storming out to the ring, he signalled for back up and before long the ring was filled with superstars and backstage talent prying the two away from one another. The chaos all happening as medics checked on Y/n who was out cold, they worked quickly to get her on a stretcher and brought to the trainers room.

A few minutes later things began to calm down and that was when Punk realised Y/n was nowhere in sight, a panic washing over him immediately — where was she? Was she okay? Why didn’t he check on her first ? The second these thoughts flooded his mind he was out of the ring and sprinting to the back, pushing his way through the curtain yelling at everyone around him as he asked for y/n’s whereabouts. “Where is she?! Where is Y/N?!” He barked at Paul Levesque aka Triple H, “Phil she’s in the trainers office, they’re checking her out to see if she needs to be transported to the local medical facility” he replied in a soft tone, that was all Punk needed to hear before giving the man a nod and heading straight to the office.

The expression on Punks face immediately softening as he opened the door and saw Y/n sitting up slowly with a groan, their eyes immediately meeting as he walked to her side. “Fuck.. I’m so sorry.. I should’ve looked after you and went straight over-” his ramble was cut off by Y/n placing a gentle kiss to his lips as she held his face in her hands. “Hey, hey I’m okay I promise.. just a little sore” she smiled sweetly at him, Punks eyes rapidly scanned over her body checking for any obvious injuries — the bruising already forming only made him seethe with anger. “I’m gonna kill him I swear” he grumbled under his breathe as his eyes met hers again, “mm later” she smiled wrapping her arms around his neck loosely.

“Im going to go get ready for my match” y/n whispered knowing he would be disapproving given her current state, “to hell you are darlin” he shook his head, “hmm too late?” She giggled before getting up off the table and running out the door down the hall. “Hey don’t you dare!” He laughed chasing her, y/n’s loud giggles echoing through the halls as he chased her.

After a few moments she arrived at her locker room and quickly ran in while closing the door behind her, “y/n” Punk laughed, “y/n i know you’re in there, let me in” he spoke softly. “mm only if you don’t get mad that i’m still planning to do my match later tonight” she smiled as if he could see it through the door, “y/n y/m/n y/l/n.. you’ll be the death of me” he sighed with a gentle laugh after speaking her full name. “Okay fine, but you have to get medically cleared by the trainer first.. deal?” he spoke while standing back waiting for the door to open.

After a few seconds the door opened and revealed Y/n with a little grin on her face, “how can I say no to that?” she whispered before pulling him into the room by his shirt and locking the door behind her. “exactly” he replied before picking her up effortlessly and carrying her to the small couch that took up a space in the room. If there was one thing people probably didn’t know about Phil, it’s that behind closed doors he was a big softy, especially to y/n.

“I hope you know I really am sorry, I had no idea that was going to happen” he mumbled as one hand rested on her hip and the other slowly moved to her lower back. “hey it’s okay, it’s part of the job” she smiled softly, her hands roaming his body ever so gently. “I know but you shouldn’t of gotten hit like that, it could of caused serious damage and I just.. I don’t know what i would’ve done-” his voice almost shaking as he thought about what could of happened if things had gone worse. Y/n carefully moved her hands to his face, carefully resting on both his cheeks, “phil.. love.. i’m okay, i’m right here and that’s all that matters” she hummed looking at him solemnly - her heart speeding up just looking at him.

“alright.. I trust you, but i will get drew back for what he did, that’s a promise”. A smile grew on y/ns face hearing his words, she could not get over how much Phil loved her, that he’d do just about anything for her even though he knew damn well she could stand up for herself. “I appreciate that babe, you’re the best” she laughed lightly, “i have no doubt in my mind you’ll get him back and I simply cannot wait to see it”.

The tension in the room slowly rising as y/n moved her hands to Punks Hair, running her fingers through it softly before tightening her grip on it slightly to tug on it. This action earning a slight groan from the heavily tattooed superstar, “However, your pay back can wait.. I think I know what will make us both feel better, hm?” she whispered as she placed gentle kisses to his neck and up towards his jaw.

Soft groans continued to leave Punks lips as his eyes remained locked on hers, “oh yeah you want to show me exactly what that is?” he smirked running his hands up her body stopping right under her breasts. “I think that could be arranged” she shifted so she was properly straddling him, “You only get a preview though, and then the full thing comes after i win my match tonight” she grinned running her thumb across his jaw, both their eyes locked on one another full of lust.

“mm I can agree to that, IF you get cleared.. but either way i’m taking good care of you love” he hummed running his hands under her shirt while keeping his gaze fixed on her, “oh yeah? that’s if I don’t care for you first” she challenged with with a bright smile. A few seconds passed and Punk picked the smaller woman up and smoothly flipped her over so he was now hovering over her gently, a loud squeal followed by sweet laughter erupting from her lips at the sudden action. I think we can all guess that probably wasnt the only noise coming from the room that night.

“I’ve got you” he whispered lovingly, “in and outside of the ring.. i’ve got you, nobody gets away with hurting you like that” their foreheads pressed gently against one another.

[bluelocksource]

Michael Kaiser’s trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)

☆ Character's color: Metallic Blue.

☆ Weapon : Kaiser Impact.

☆ Birthday: 25th December.

☆ Current age: 19 (at the start of NEL).

☆ Zodiac: Capricorn.

☆ Nickname: "Blue Rose Emperor"

☆ Birthplace: Berlin, Germany.

☆ Family: Father. Himself.

☆ Current height: 186 cm.

☆ Foot size: 28 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right.

☆ Blood type: A.

☆ Visual acuity: 0.9 in both eyes.

☆ Grip strength: 80 kg.

☆ Motto: "Become the symbol of impossibility."

☆ Team: Bastard München.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 15.

☆ Interest: Psychology, philosophy, and human behavior principles.

☆ Favorite food: Rusk made from the crust of bread. "When I was a kid, I used to get those from a local sandwich shop before they were thrown away. They’re really good, whether sweet or garlic-flavored." 

☆ Dislike/hated food: Milk. "It reminds me of unpleasant things. Plus, I just hate the smell. It’s gross."

☆ What goes best with rice:  "I don’t really eat rice. Let me know what’s good. "

☆ Favorite animal: Stray dogs.

☆ Favorite season: Winter. "I feel at home with the loneliness."

☆ Favorite movie: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

☆ Favorite music: "Desperado" by Eagles.

☆ Frequently used app: Healthcare app. "Every morning I would measure my pulse to feel alive through numbers."

☆ Favorite football player: None.

☆ Favorite subject: "I haven't really attended school, so I don't know."

☆ Weak subject: "I don’t know because I haven’t been to school."

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "What’s that about? Chocolate? Mushroom will do."

☆ Ideal type: "Someone who is beautiful, smart and affectionate."

☆ Fixation: Despair. "I want to experience the deep immersion of that person."

☆ What would make him happy: Being targeted. "The thought of eliminating them gives me a thrill."

☆ What would make him upset: Presents. "I don’t know how to react, and I really don’t want them. Just go away." 

☆ What he thinks his strength is: “The ability to look down on all 'humans'."

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: “My crazy bed hair. I wake up really poorly.”

☆ What made him cry recently: “When I choked myself, tears came out. I laughed when I saw my face in the mirror.”

☆ Usual sleeping hour: 8 hours (7 hours + 1 hour)

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 800. "Apparently, they were delivered to the team clubhouse."

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: Left chest.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I don't really care. I guess I'll buy a rose garden."

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "Such things never arrived. That kind of thing doesn’t exist."

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: Freedom.

☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Take a leisure shower, read, think about the people I want to kill and myself, then take a dump and go to sleep."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "Regret. I think there were other ways to live. If tomorrow were the last day, I’d feel that way."

☆ Favorite historical figure: Nietzsche, Freud, Napoleon. "I want to talk to these three."

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: Crime. Starve to death.

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "My soccer ball."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. "There’s no salvation in the past, so the future is better. I want to see if there’s no salvation in the future either."

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[paingoes]

Destroyer - A Sentence of Sorts

(Masterlist)

(Content: mass death, alcohol, physical abuse, verbal abuse, guilt, self loathing, minor suicidal ideation, implied self harm)

=======================

Delta read the death toll again. 2,367 was the beginner estimate. There was not as much outcry as there was about Lemuria, nor was there the same circus of gore. The fact that it was an attack on Nezu did little to comfort him. He didn’t care for the nuances. In him there was an almost childlike sensibility. He diligently added the new deaths to his personal count. In his half-asleep state, what felt like the great tragedy was not the number itself, but the fact that it could never be reduced. It was the math he was fixated on. It wasn’t fair.

He realized quickly after re-entering the Empire portal that it had been bifurcated between the two sides of the war. He also realized, to his shock, that he’d been grouped into Nezu’s side. He’d actually forgotten that he’d stolen the laptop from one of Nezu’s people. They must have been either dead or on vacation; no one else was ever active on any of the accounts. He had to re-configure a lot of the settings and passwords to regain access to the portal, no doubt indicating a massive security crisis on their side. He scanned the bulletin they’d posted. Saber rattling. In memoriam.

Empire could not afford this war. They’d already stretched themselves thin across the different fronts, practically at the height of their expansionism when the Emperor had died. They faced opposition from a host of recognized nations, as well as a new crop of organized resistance groups that existed solely to topple the whole thing. Empire still wasn’t weak, not by any stretch of the imagination. Its power structure was decentralized enough to survive the past months without anyone at the helm. But Paris and Nezu forcing Empire in half threatened to break the entire web into a whole spectrum of disjointed pieces.

Delta paused. Did he want that? He thought of it as a kind of apocalypse scenario, but he supposed it was technically in alignment with his own goals. With the civil war raging, Empire was planting the seeds of its own demise. But they were just seeds.

He looked back at the death toll. There’d be hell to pay before it finally broke apart. 

He posted the next leak to a new thread, quickly shutting out of the tab before he had time to see anyone’s reaction. He updated semi-regularly now, attaching both current plans and declassifying older files from the early days of Empire. The latter was more for his own curiosity than anything else. To him, it felt like a small act. He was used to the light shows, bold acts of destruction and slaughter. Working with intel was so much subtler; it was hard to trace any development back to something he had released. All he had were suspicions, really. Suspicions and a few messages.

katkittykat: ok rlly can i ask where ur getting this shit

katkittykat: whos ur connection hehehe :3

ndhakdvsnnd: nobody and i dont know what youre talking about

katkittykat: its a lil late to play coy yknow

katkittykat: u dont have 2 b scared of me!!! i want to help u

ndhakdvsnnd: shut up

katkittykat: wtf!!! rude >:3

katkittykat: pretend that face is frowning but its still a cat

katkittykat: wait i got it

katkittykat: /ᐠoᆽoᐟ \╭∩╮

sunspot: Hey thanks again for the leak !! Im sorry about kitty actually im sorry about both of us

sunspot: We arent trying to push you into anything really we are just curious about you

sunspot: Sorry if its stressing you out i would probably be stressed out too in your situation 

ndhakdvsnnd: you dont know fuck about my situation

sunspot: Yeah thats true! But I know youve been helping us a lot and we are kind of worried about you 

ndhakdvsnnd: who is we why do you keep saying we

ndhakdvsnnd: yes you are stressing me the fuck out thanks for acknowledging that

ndhakdvsnnd: didnt you say you were going to stop prying id really appreciate it if you did

sunspot: Fair enough! I havent been that upfront with you either so I guess i am not in a position to be asking so much. If you want to know what is happening on our end i will tell you and maybe that will help?

ndhakdvsnnd: okay

ndhakdvsnnd: not now

sunspot: Talk later?

ndhakdvsnnd: i have to go 

sunspot: Okay be careful then! 

ndhakdvsnnd: thanks

Delta exited out. He got other messages - many, many others - but none as annoyingly persistent as those two. He didn’t know why he kept talking to them. When they answered, it was bad. When they didn’t, it was even worse. He stepped away from the computer, badly needing a break. He wouldn’t get it, of course, not for more than five minutes. He needed to go see Paris.

==========================

The bottle almost nailed him in the fucking head. Delta hissed, softly, his bright eyes flashing violently. 

“You’re late,” Paris let his head loll a little, a lazy smile quirking at his lips. Delta didn’t bother trying to defend himself. His vocal cords were still burnt out, rendering him mute for a time. He moved to the prince’s side, dropping into a kneel. Paris backhanded him before he’d even gotten all the way down. Eager today. Delta winced, immediately moving to touch the tender skin. He knew it had broken; Paris had blood on his ring. He grabbed Delta’s wrist before it could make contact and did not let go.

“Take your hair out,” He ordered. Oh. Delta had forgotten. Paris still didn’t let go of his wrist, so he had to remove the tie with one hand. He slipped it onto his wrist, letting his hair fall loosely down his back. 

“Let me see,” Paris said. Delta tilted his head a little, not understanding. After a minute, he offered Paris his other hand. Paris slid the hair tie off, doubling it over a few times to bind Delta’s wrists together. Delta let them fall in his lap. Not a particularly difficult restraint to get out of, but that didn’t matter. Delta knew better than to try it.

He didn’t understand why Paris had started calling him here again. Besides the little indiscretions with the laptop, he’d been on his best behavior. He had honestly been trying to make it easier on him, but it had no effect. Paris had been difficult before the accident. These days, he was impossible.

He was also tipsy, which was historically worse. Drunk enough to lose any inhibitions, but not drunk enough to let Delta get away with anything. It was a losing game. He was almost glad he couldn’t speak; at least he couldn’t say the wrong thing and send the prince off in a spiral. It was all too easy to do that now, but nobody paid for it the way Delta did.

“Why did you change?” 

That caught him off guard. Delta could’ve asked him the exact same thing, of course. But that wasn’t what bothered him. It was so unfair. Paris, who had all the social grace of a methed up honeybadger, could still read people without any apparent effort. Delta wilted a little bit under his gaze, a small pang of guilt striking him. He thought again about destroying the computer. He thought about it everyday. He bowed his head in apology. Not good enough, apparently. Paris kicked him onto his back. Unable to catch himself, he knocked his head into the carpet, wind knocked out from the blow. Paris had stood up.

“You think I can’t tell?” His voice was unsteady, pitchy, the way it had been ever since he got back. He was getting worked up, Delta could tell. He stifled a groan. This was going to be a long night.

“I was only out for a fucking month, what changed? Why is everyone acting like the show is over?”

Delta felt a sudden kick in his side. Paris gripped his collar. He was light; it was not hard to drag Delta off the ground, even unwillingly. Paris only did it half-way, throwing him back into the desk. Delta’s back slammed into it, again unable to catch himself. He bounced off it, back onto the ground. Slowly, he repositioned himself into a kneel, more muscle memory than conscious effort.

“You know all this could have been prevented if he just wrote a will. The old man thought he would never die. They pierced me right though the exact same place they got him, you know that? Just an inch from the heart. I didn’t ask for a civil war. It’s my birthright, I shouldn’t have to-“

Paris slapped him in the face, “Are you even listening? This is about you.”

Delta nodded, even though it clearly wasn’t. He knew Paris was just taking his anger out on him because he was there — because he couldn’t do anything about it. Delta accepted this with the kind of quiet resignation that only ever seemed to irritate the situation.

“Fucking stop!” The prince yelled. God, he was never happy. He circled behind Delta, landing a kick squarely on his shoulderblades. It sent him forward, onto his hands and knees. Before he could recover, Paris kicked him again in the side, with enough force that he fell flat onto the carpet. For some reason, the rug caught his eye. It was weaved of soft blue fiber. 

Delta thought of Lemuria — and of the ocean. Paris kicked him in the stomach, but he didn’t hear what he said. 2,367 dead, in addition to the 22,534 previous. They were all-star numbers. Paris knocked his leg out, forcing Delta flat on his back. He straddled his waist, which Delta admittedly found much harder to ignore. He winced as Paris’s hands wrapped around his throat, the one still too burnt for him to speak with. His collar gave off a little dryer spark; Paris cursed. Delta thought of all the lives he’d destroyed in the past months alone, the ones he’d never know, the count that would never go down. What kind of terror did they feel in their final moments? How badly did it burn? He didn’t fight as Paris beat him. Fair is fair. Even as the grip tightened, threatening to choke off his air, he didn’t resist it. It was right that he should die. It would be right if he died 25,000 times over.

Paris didn’t give him the satisfaction. His eyes had been burning above him, but they gradually turned to cinders, the pressure letting up. He didn’t look much calmer, but he did look exhausted. He was still injured. The beating might’ve taken more out of him than it did Delta. 

Delta couldn’t ask to be dismissed. He wouldn’t have. When Paris did throw him out, he felt a vague and numinous dissatisfaction. He was being punished for the wrong reasons. It wasn’t enough. In the hallway, he unbinded his own hands. He pulled the band back against his wrist, letting it snap hard against the skin.