#normal is a state of mind and i don't want to live there

[kyonite]

You're wrong about the purpose of the Hayes Code in such a fascinating way so I'm sorry if I sound like I'm dunking on you but I really do need to correct this.

You say the Hayes Code is "a codified set of rules intended for censorship" this opinion isn't wrong but it is missing an important part. The Hayes Code was a set of rules intended for self-censorship in the face of "moral" objections.

You see in the early 1920's as sound film became popular, studios had a problem. What was permissable and normal and "moral" in, say, New York wasn't permissable or normal or "moral" in a more conservative state like Kansas. They faced a rising wave of laws from individual states calling for actual censorship of film. To get around this, the film studios agreed to self-censor so they could avoid all these laws.

I think this point is important to note, because the Hayes Code isn't enforced by a legal government body, but instead by the studios themselves. They constructed the Motion Picture Association. They hired notable Republican Will H. Hayes (whose most recent gig before this was Chairman of the Republican Committee). Now Hayes wasn't the one who wrote the code, instead he provided the studios a list of "don'ts" and "be carefuls"in 1927. This wasn't enough, and in 1930 the studios agreed to a more strict "code" that was proposed by a catholic layman and a jesuit priest. I don't know about you but I personally don't know a group of people more willing to push their morality onto others than religious people, especially Catholics.

Eventually the code would be dropped (in the late 1960's) and Hollywood would adopt a rating system like we see today.

But, again, I have to specify that this was all self-censorship done by the studios themselves. I would argue that we see this time and time again in fan spaces especially when it comes to writing (livejournal and strikethrough come to mind as does Visa's anti-sex decisions as a payment processor).

Now is one specific person recreating a Hayes Code on themselves? Probably not. But, you can make an argument that Hayes Coding yourself is just self-censorship based on how people are reacting to your work.

"Neither do people owe authors to like or condone with authors make" who is saying this? do you know how to read? do you need someone to,,, hold your hand about it? also like damn bro I wish people who found my shit weird would stop making it my problem!

"Having moral objections is not the same as wanting to have your hand held." Damn I really wish we weren't living thru an unprecedented rise of fascism driven by a rise of moral puritanical thought. I wish I could stop holding y'all's dumbass hands!

now say it with me: authors/artists dont owe you moral purity. an author/artist job is not to hold you by the hand & tell you exactly what is Good™ & what is Bad™. you should be able to think for yourself

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Bucky's Valentine

Yes yes I know I'm late to the party but better late than never. I was also busy with assignments (still am) cos they were due on Valentine's Day itself. I also know Silco won that poll but I'm having some difficulty coming up with more than 200 words at the moment so here's my Bucky brainrot.

Got inspiration from this prompt list, much thanks to @/creativepromptsforwriting for the list.

You really need to stop drinking.

Even so, you reach for yet another bottle, drowning your sorrows in the clear liquid as the music fades to a low hum, your mind buzzing from the alcohol. It's a party, celebrating this famous occasion called Valentine's Day but there's this stupid ache in your heart that won't go away.

Each time you lock eyes with a certain super soldier, his ice blue eyes piercing into your very soul, you pull away behind your wall of sharp remarks, afraid of exposing your heart. So of course he finds someone else, why would he think you were interested in him? Still, it hurts to see him laughing with someone else, leaning in close to whisper something into their ear that makes them giggle.

You want nothing more than to feel his lips brush against yours, his voice a deep murmur in your ears but you keep pushing him away, even on Valentine's Day. You can't risk being hurt like that again, your heart can't take it. You're better off watching from afar, keeping him safe from your demons, seeing him happily live the life Hydra has stolen from him.

Your vision is starting to spin, but you keep knocking back more bottles, eager to escape the yawning feeling in your chest that threatens to bury you alive. Tomorrow everything will go back to normal, there won't be a party to remind you of what you can't have, of the person you keep at arms length for his sake.

"Friendly reminder, I will laugh my ass off if you fall out of that chair like an idiot." A hand rests on your shoulder, steadying you.

"I'm not going to. Sheer spite will keep me on this chair." You scowl, slamming the now empty bottle on the counter and reach for another. A metal hand moves the nearest bottle just out of your reach and the chair next to you shifts to make space for the newcomer.

"Sure it will, doll, but I don't think sheer spite will keep you from face-planting the table. You're almost there anyways." The newcomer pushes all glass out of your reach, ruffling your hair. "I'm going to record it when that happens."

"In your dreams," you mutter, shoving his hand away. He laughs when each attempt misses by a mile, your intoxicated movements a far cry from your usual precise ones.

"If I said I was dreaming right now?" He leans in, a smirk plastered on his face. His soft brown locks sway forward, framing his handsome face and gentle ice blue eyes filled with amusement come into view.

"Then you need to dream harder." You push his face away with a huff, leaning over the table to reach for any bottle that hasn't been emptied and nearly fall over when a pair of arms wrap themselves around you, catching you before your body dips.

"I think you've had enough for today." His voice is laced with a concern you've never heard before, and his movements are gentle, nothing like the rough housing he usually does. "Let's go outside, we both could do with some fresh air."

"Don't need your help. I can walk by myself." You shove him away, harder than intended and stalk out the door, grabbing a drink along the way.

Steve looks over, worried, but Bucky waves him away, shaking his head and follows you out. You're standing at the balcony, the wind blowing at your hair and even in your drunken state, you look ethereal.

"Don't go jumping off either," Bucky hums, walking over to stand next to you.

"If I jumped off I'd be dragging you along with me. Can't go about dying before you." You look away, staring at the empty glass in your hand. Your chest is bursting from how close he is to you, hands mere inches away from each other and your heart is pounding in your ears.

"Well, that's quite the tall order. I happen to have the super soldier serum, I don't recall you having any superpowers aside from being the most spiteful person to ever exist." He raises an eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes.

"I also have gravity manipulation, if your old man memory can keep up. Which, by the way, means I can't exactly die from jumping off a building."

"Wouldn't take my chances while drunk." He glances down, grimacing. "Nat's going to have my head on a gold platter if anything happens to you while I'm around."

You snort, "good thing I'm here to save your skin then."

"You have my utmost gratitude." Sarcasm drips from every word of his, accompanied by a flick to the forehead which you return with some difficulty due to the height difference but it's not a problem that can't be solved by a little jump.

"So what sorrows are you drowning today?" He probes gently, prying your fingers from the empty glass.

"All of them, clearly." You lean against the railing, letting out a deep sigh. "Including you."

You don't know why you said that, but it's a bit hard to take them back now. His facial expression shifts, going through surprise, confusion, then sadness. You really shouldn't have said that, Bucky being sad is the furthest thing you want for him.

"Did I…what did I do wrong? Please, tell me doll. I need to know, I promise I won't do it again." There's desperation clinging to each word, a strained plea that begs for your forgiveness. You take the empty glass from him and clench your fist, causing it to shatter. Glass shards fall to the ground at your feet as hot angry tears stream down your cheeks. Bucky takes a step back, warily eyeing you and you let out a scream of frustration into the empty night.

"What did you do? Everything and nothing!" You snarl. Glass shards dig into your palm, drawing blood. "You know what your problem is? Making me actually care about you! I can't stand it!"

You inhale sharply, bloody fist shaking as you take a step towards Bucky. "I hate that I care so much about you! I hate that giddy feeling in my stomach whenever you talk to me, the way I scan the area for you every time I step into a room, the way I think about your safety first and foremost whenever you're on a mission!"

Tears fall faster now, blurring your vision. "I hate that I can't stop having feelings for you, that I can't confess them to you because it'd only put you in more danger, that I need you so badly but I also want you to be happy and live the proper life you deserve."

You choke back a sob. "I've always loved you. But I will never tell you."

Bucky catches you again for the second time tonight as you collapse, body wracked with sobs. He holds you tightly, ignoring the way your blood stains his suit and buries his face into your hair.

"I've always loved you too, I was just too afraid to tell you. I wasn't sure if you returned my feelings, wasn't sure if I was really the best choice for you." His words come out as a whisper but you catch them all. "Tomorrow, I'm going to ask you out, properly, and hopefully you won't be too hungover to reply."

His fingers gently run through your locks as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "We can just stay like that tonight if you want, but I'd like to bandage that pretty hand of yours before it bleeds out, alright?"

"No." You choke out but let him carry you to his room anyways, eyes squeezed shut. His warmth feels nice, and his embrace is even better than you imagined. His touch is gentle, safe and he's careful when cleaning out your wounds.

Through the drying tears, you can make out his blurry image focused on bandaging your hand and let out a sniffle. He presses a small kiss to your neatly bandaged hand and rises, letting your hand drop onto your lap.

"You should rest. You can use my bed, I'll just steal yours in return. Nobody will bother you, promise." He smiles, giving your body a gentle push onto said bed and you lie there, staring up at him.

"Stay." You say after a while, swallowing thickly. "Please."

He blinks, taken aback but gives you the biggest genuine grin you've ever seen and nods.

"As you wish, doll."

"Thank you, James."

Bucky tucks you and himself in, watching as you drift off to sleep with a giddy feeling in his chest. Maybe he should get you drunk more often if it means hearing you say 'thank you'. Besides, he likes the way his name rolls off your tongue, it makes him the happiest man in the universe hearing it fall from your lips.

"You're welcome, Y/N."

[itsmeyaspider]

Chained freedome~

Yandere Loki x female reader

Notes: This fanfiction contains heavy manga spoilers! Also, I've read the latest manga chapter and it's possible that Loki might change in a few ones! So please be beware of it :) Honestly I need to write something about him so badly😪😭

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, kidnapping, mention of gore, a massacre happens

A small sigh escapes your almost frozen lips, your (b/s) shaped body wrapped in warm fur, couldn't stop shivering. God how you hate this weather. A young, beautiful (h/c) haired woman stares up at the sky, as she stands still for a small moment of time. Maybe it's not the best thing to stand still in this ice cold weather but she had not much of a choice either. Her giant husband adorns her view of the sky, his muscular body, chained to an even bigger, rooted tree. Of course, the accursed prince wouldn't mind this cold weather.

A big evil smile graces his lips, his insane eyes staring at you, even if they are bandaged you could sense them, as if you were one of his loyal beasts. His raspy, dark voice managed to pull you out of your thoughts, even though you preferred to stay inside them, than with him. Your husband.

"What's wrong little one? Did the sight of me leave you speechless?~" he teased in his usual wicked voice. Your brow furrows, as you cross your arms infront of your body. How could it have come to all of this?! You would love to run, run as your legs could carry you and finally get off this far to huge island. But you are not naiv, no never again. Loki, even if he his currently chained up, would find you and then he would start another massacre. Something you can't allow to happen ever again! The screams of the inhabitants still echo through you head, you can't close your (e/c) eyes without seeing your mother painted face. This all is a huge nightmare and you are the vessel of it, you can't escape him no matter what and still you want to be free.

"No, I wonder why you don't finally give up. Shanks wo-" but before you can even continue speaking, his now angry, dominant voice drowns in. Fuck, you completely forgot how much he hated the red haired pirate. After all, he is the reason why he is chained up. Something what you really appreciate, but you could never ever say that to him, no not if you want to incur his wrath again, Loki tends to do cruel things when someone disobeys him, but especially with you. "Never put this name in your filthy mouth again ot I will teach you to fear me again. You are lucky that I am chained up right now. You seem to have forgotten who you belong to over these years."

A could shiver runs over your almost frozen body, you almost fall into a state of shock, something you can't stop. He is right, why were you so stupid to make him upset again? Immediately you look down at the snow, ashamed and afraid of yourself and the things your husband could do to your misbehavior. A cool wind blows through your hair and it almost feels as if the time has stopped around you.

You should have gone with Shanks when he offered you to save you from him. You see it before your eyes to this day, Shanks the man with one arm, the pirate who managed to chain the monster. The red haired man stretches out his right hand towards you, a gentle, charming smile graces his face. He was the complete opposite of Loki, he was funny and helpful. Somethings you always searched in a men. "Come with us (Y/n). I will take you to an island where he won't dare to visit it, you can be free. I can see in your eyes that you want nothing more than that." His words sound like sugar in your ears, every sense in you screams. 'Yes get out of here, get away from him! This is your final chance' and you surely would have loved to take his hand and sail away with them, a normal, peaceful live, like you always wished to.

But before you can take the plunge, you hesitate, something inside you is holding you back from this opportunity. Was it the fear of Loki? Was it the terrible consequence that could happen if you really try to escape from him? You weren't nearly strong enough to fight against your forced husband, it was a miracle that the redhead mad it. You seriously never thought that anyone in this world could defeat him. Not a single giant on this island dared to mess with Loki and then you are supposed to escape him? It all sounded to good to be true. A small, pained smile graces your lips as you nicely decline the emperors offer. Instead, you spend all your years with the accursed prince, something that he really appreciated.

"I-I'm sorry...It won't happen again." You blurt out, your voice sounds almost broken, like a small glass doll who gets thrown on the ground. God, you look so pathetic- The giant calms down a little bit, even though Loki is still boiling with anger, you somehow manages to calm him down. "You are mine (Y/n)! All mine, do you understand it? If I get out of here, and I will get out of here, the whole world will sink into chaos and you, my beloved little wife, will see all of it.~"

~~~

A few years earlier, on a small but beautiful island, the sun is shining on your face, and the birds are happily chirping. You are cleaning the dirty tables from a bar, where you earn a small amount of berries. It isn't much but it is at least something. A small smile graces your face as the wet washcloth makes the alcohol, who sticks on the table dissappear. You are wringing out the rag in bucket as you suddenly hear a loud, almost wild scream. Your thoughts immediately turn to the sound of an elderly man running through several alleys, almost like a stray dog anxious looking for some meat. "A ship, a huge ship has come ashore." He gasps as he bends in his knees.

Normally you would ignore such things, but you could see the big ship with your own (e/c) colored pair of eyes. It's so huge that even someone from far, far away could see it. You would never thought that this is possible, but the truth is, that a huge ship bigger than this island is making a landfall! Something inside you knew that something terrible is going to happen, surely it often happens that different kind of people arrived here on this island to take a small break, but never ever with such a huge ship!

You bite your underlip as you decide that it would be the best if you get on with your work and didn't do something reckless. You didn't get paid for nothing and besides you aren't this kind of person who interfere unnecessarily. So you trun back to the dirty tables as you try to wander off with your thoughts again.

The day almost flies by, you finish your work faster than expected, as you slowly make your way to your little house. Your mother is already waiting for you and you're sure that she makes another delicious meal! You're walking toward home, humming a small shanty you have in your mind, when you suddenly bump into something- no someone. Shocked, you fall to the ground as you try to glance if the person opposite you is alright. As you carefully look up you realize that you have run into a leg, a god damn leg!!! You keep looking up when a bearded giant stands in front of you. His muscular body is covered in tattoos, he wears a hornet helmet on his head and his clothes look like something from another country you couldn't recognize. But the thing you notice most is the giants wide grin, it's filled with mischiev. "Uh...I uhm..I'm sorry sir."

You don't really know how to face the creature, after all, you didn't even know that such a thing existed until now! Now the huge ship on which he must have arrived makes sense! But what the hell is someone like him doing on a small island like this? But before you could even react further, you feel a strong grip on your (b/s) shaped body, as you suddenly get lift up. You try to fight against it, your arms and legs beat wildly around you, but everything you do seems to be usless. The man looks closely into your now frightened (e/c) colored eyes, as his broad grin even widens. "Let me go!" You scream, the man tilts his head to one side as he keeps staring at you. It is almost like as if he is examining you...

You start to give up after a small amount of time, as you realize how hopeless this whole situation is! This guy is much stronger and bigger than you, he could easily crush your body with his bare hands if he want to and yet he doesn't do it. Instead, an even more wicked smile forms on his face, his eyes gleam with pleasure. Something about it scares you, maybe it is his stare what makes you feel like a prey, or it is the fact that this men don't make any intentions to let you go! "I said let me go!" you shout again, but this time the men finally answers, his voice is filled with amusement and lust.

"Hm, I think I will keep you, little one. You are cute, tell me your name." Something inside you knows this is not a simple question, it is a order! You want to rebel against it, you are not a dog who belongs to some kind of giant but instead other words come out of your mouth. "It's (Y/n).." you whisper more to yourself then to him, the men seems to be quite satisfied with the answer, he decides to still hold you in his big hand as he goes to his ship. Again you try to protest against this nonsense, but the giant just simply ignores it.

The night passes through, and your mind is filled with fear, you just couldn't understand why he keeps you here! It didn't made any sense! This needs to be a god damn nightmare... The loud snoring of the men lying next to you fills the cabin with noises, you carefully watch him, something about him makes you uncomfortable. You need to escape quickly before he wakes up again! You keep on watching him until you are sure that he is asleep. Slowly you try to get out his grip, this alone is a masterpiece in itself, his grip is anything but gentle, but you didn't have time to think about it, you must act now!

You move as gentle as possible out of his hand and the way to huge bed, as you suddenly fall on the ground. You let out a small 'oof' from your lips as you lift yourself up again, your (e/c) colored eyes sneak to the giant again, did he hear anything?! You immediately focus on your escape again as you notice a window that is open. You bite on your lower lip, as you try your best to climb up there. However, it's not as easy as you expected it to be, the furniture of these beings are much bigger than everything else you ever saw in your entire life and so you climb up the wall to the window. You could already feel the cold sea breeze, a small triumphant smile crosses your lips as you keep climbing. 'Soon I will get out of this hell.'

But before you can even touch the frame of the window, you are grabbed roughly by an all too familiar strong grip, you let out a indignant scream as you now look face to face with your captor. Your (b/s) shaped body immediately stiffens, you could recognize a glint of anger in his eyes. Shit this isn't good! The grip gets tighter and tighter as you slowly feel how you breathe less and less air. "I-I can breathe.." you whine as you feel your (e/c) clouded eyes being on the verge of tears. This is it you're going to die here, your whole life runs through your head as you wait for your last final breath, but it doesn't come to that, instead you notice how more air gets into your lungs, the grip becomes softer, although it was still firm.

"Do you think you can run away from me (Y/n)? Do you really think I am that stupid, little one? I will never again let a second woman run away from me. You are mine now, and no one on this whole world can change that." The words of the stranger make you tremble, his voice is filled with pure hatred and possession. What the hell is he talking about? You tried to escape from his grip, but instead your body turns against you! The giant continues to stare into your soul, as he suddenly starts to move, his long legs allowing him to appear in the village in a few seconds. "W-why did you brought me here?" Maybe, just maybe he would let me go! Maybe he saw that I'm not the right woman for him! Hope runs through your veins, as a small naiv smile graces your face.

Your smile immediately dissappear again, you notice that the giant starts to grin again as well, it's the grin from before, an evil, terrible one. "I should show you what happens when you defy me. You care about these filthy inhabitants, don't you, little one? If they go up in flames, it will be a lot of fun, won't it?" Your eyes widen in shock, he couldn't be serious! This is pure madness! But something inside you knew that thus man isn't joking around, no, his grin speaks more than a thousand cruel words. "Please don't do this." you beg "I-I will do anything you want but please-"

Your pleading words only make him laugh, he takes a huge pleasure in the destruction, something that deeply disturbs you. But you had no strength left to resist him any longer, instead you had to watch as the whole village and all its inhabitants, including your family and friends to fall into ashes, the only thing that drowned out their pain filled screams was the prince wicked laughter. The flames continued to blaze for weeks, and all because you wanted to escape this monster.

After this tragic stroke of fate you knew that you would never do something so foolish again, but deep down you hoped that there would be someone who could kill him. At least he is chained up, which gives you a little self confidence, but you know that this won't last forever. One day he will break free and only Loki himself knows what he is planning to do. Fear surges through your body as you catch sight of your forced husband again, if there is anyone out there who could hear my prayes, please make this hell stop. Please anyone....

[0tenshi]

🌻Positive Result ~ The Eulogy of Someone Still Alive (TW: discussions of death, physical and mental illness)

HEY!! It's been a bit since I wrote one of these. I kind of wanted to do one for Neuron Explosion Show, but I feel like I don't have much good to say about it. At any rate, NES is a bit of a successor to Positive Result despite having been released first. I wrote Positive Result first and in a far longer amount of time and put a lot more thought into it, that's for sure.

This song has been a long time coming for me. I'm not super open about my own mental state online as a safety measure since I am still young, but my music has always been a way for me to... unleash what I feel without guilt, if that makes sense. I'm quite a reserved person despite wearing my heart on my sleeve, but the lack of pressure with music really draws me to the craft as a whole. After all, most of my listeners do not know me on a personal level (nor should they). Those who do know me, however, are able to get a better insight on me through listening to what I have to say in a way that doesn't put as much direct burden on them as talking face to face would. Perhaps my mindset isn't the healthiest, I am aware that it's cowardly. But it's one of the only ways I am able to process my own emotions, trauma, and regrets while I navigate my young adulthood as of now.

That being said, I'd like to talk as openly as I can about the meaning of Positive Result here. This song features a feeling that I know all too well: pure, unfiltered panic. Powerlessness. An extreme sense of mortality.

I was officially diagnosed with OCD when I was around thirteen, but my symptoms started at a very young age, manifesting mostly in the form of health anxiety. The first instance of this I can recall was how at six years old I would check my lung capacity over and over again, convinced that my breathing was constrained and there was something wrong with me. Checking myself mentally and physically for symptoms of something arbitrary and untrue was routine for so long, for so many years, that I thought it to be normal until I discovered the nature of OCD. The disorder is ravenous. It's time consuming. At times, it is inescapable. It is scary. It is completely irrational. And it's shaped me and my personality in many ways.

"I can't halt the fear

To appreciate

everything I seem

seem to have today

(Now I am contorting wildly, feelings clashing, overwhelming)

And I can't control

what's controlling me and

living while I'm dying every day

(Understanding math so vague, I graph a picture of a morbid day)"

Positive Result features my struggle with the part of my OCD that makes me fear contracting and dying of a physical illness. A lot of the lyrics allude to cancer specifically, ("Even though I cannot sense it, I can tell that my cells are revolting/Turning paradigms to sickness"). The imagery of physical cells "revolting" is something I wanted to portray sickeningly straightforward. I considered using the word "turning" as well, like rotting, or like a multiplying cancer, but "revolting" felt more akin to the betrayal I feel when my mind tries to convince me that my "paradigms" are turning to sickness. In this case, "paradigms" also refers to cell mitosis and the multiplication of cancer cells. "Felt only by these hands of mine" refers to the sense of feeling something or seeing something, a symptom, an imperfection, anything, that isn't actually there.

My episodes of panic with my OCD have lasted me months at a time before. At times, they leave me feeling that my fear will last an eternity.

"With a fear that lasts an eternity, counting one, two, three, to the metronome of destiny

In love with earthly frequencies, the ripping sound of frantic waves

It's growing, flowers exploding, round and round, they're breathing, eating me alive"

Now, the visceral earthly imagery in the chorus is more evocative than meaningful. The thought of a flower exploding, wrapping around you, breathing and eating you alive is an uncanny enough thought. But it's the way mortality feels to me. It's the way I imagine slowly dying. Even though I have never been close to that state physically (knock on wood) getting a very scary phone call from a doctor some years ago got me well acquainted with the proximity that we as animals have to the dirt beneath us. ("Letting go and letting blood can never be rehearsed/Oh, you know I'm gonna claim that I'm only getting worse!") That last line in the yelling section in particular refers to the endless requests for reassurance about my own potential, unreal conditions and my inability to believe the people that told me I would be okay.

I'm also really proud of the next little section where the lines, "This survival rate, forever it is plummeting/these statistics aren't re-re-reassuring me," pop up. This refers specifically to checking compulsions via looking up symptoms on the internet/checking survival rates for various illnesses (I used to do that a lot.) This section also alludes to the loss of control, which, in reality, might be the scariest part of the fear of illness for me.

Also, notice the repeated rhyming of "me" with itself. ("Can't you answer me/those looking down on me"... "These statistics aren't re-re-reassuring me"..."Heal me"). When you're stuck in your head, it's quite impossible to live outside of yourself.

"'Cause the world never pauses for the cowardly

It pushes past the plagued and pageless poet’s elegies

But after all, the only person that's without disease

is only six feet deep"

This section refers to the world seeming to move on without you when you're trapped in panic, along with a slight reassuring thought that 'everyone goes through some sort of illness.' Also this interpolates Glass Pen hey guys ahahahahha, I also reference Cryin' Cryin' with the background line "Don't try to fight what you can't see," interpolate an unreleased song with [ REDACTED ], and reference Neuron Explosion Show with "I don't think I'm gonna make it out/with an ardent voice I scream it." I may or may not be going through an inspiration phase of someone I look up to who motifs a lot ahahahhahahahahah

"BRACING FOR IMPACT, WHAT’S REAL IS PLAIN TO SEE

'THESE THOUGHTS ARE JUST PROTECTING ME'

THE BIBLIOCLAST

TO MY OWN STORY"

The line "'These thoughts are just protecting me'" being in quotes specifically refers to something I learned in therapy about the nature of OCD brains and anxiety. How your brain is constantly trying to protect you despite there being no immediate threats to speak of, sometimes none at all. Also I'm really proud of the line "The biblioclast to my own story"!!! I'm a sucker for a good big word.

And that's really the core of Positive Result as a song. I hope it resonates with y'all however you decide to interpret it! In the scope of MACHINA MORI (which you should check out RIGHT NOW BTW) I see it as staring your mortal self in the face and being afraid of what you see. There's nothing comforting about being mortal. At the same time, there's everything comforting about being mortal. But, yeah. It's scary, it is. However, for me at least, even as I live side by side with this disorder, I'm a certified Lover Of Life and no amount of fear will ever change that for me. Despite how hopeless my music has been sounding lately, I hope you are aware that I, as a person, am not one to let go of hope.

Be prepared for what I have in store for this year. Big things coming!

~Kain Angel, 2/15/25

Thank you: Mage, Io, Tomi, Olay, absolutely every one of my friends, MM TEAM

[wildsaltair]

He looks so happy and dreamy when he talks about his family, I can't 💖💖

LU DON'T DO THIS TO ME

They really are all he lives for 😭😭 they are all his joy, all his hope. they are what he fights for and longs for. the glory and fame and excitement and honor means nothing if he can't be with the wife and son he loves, and live on the land he has tilled with his own hands. there's something so personal and intimate and grounded about Maximus being a farmer — the way it's a hands-on job that results in him bringing life instead of taking it. he's sick of killing and death and gore, and he just wants to be home and to see the crops growing. he wants to see the love in his wife's eyes and the joy as his son grows into a man. he lives only to hold them again.

OH TO BE LOVED AS MAXIMUS LOVES

[best-enemies]

I've reached season 5 on my CSI rewatch and I'm a few episodes past "Swap Meet", where a woman is murdered after attending a swing party with other couples from the neighbourhood. Near the end of the episode there's a moment that made me jump from my seat:

(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two cups. He hands her a cup of tea.)

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - BRASS' OFFICE]

Erin Brady: Everybody fantasizes about other people. (She glances at Grissom.)

Even you, Mr. Grissom. A neighbor, a friend ... girl at the office.

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - HALLWAY]

(The door opens. Paul Brady walks out of the hallway. Erin Brady walks out into the hallway. Sara is sitting in the hallway chair watching them. She watches as they meet and kiss.)

(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two culps. He hands her a cup of tea.)

LIKE!!!!!!!

Right after Erin ends her sentence with 'girl at the office', the first time Sara and Grissom meet again, he brings her tea. This might be an innocent interaction but to me it seemed like a nod to this relationship they have where both are into each other, know about the other's feelings, but can't/won't do anything about it (although Sara has kind of given Grissom an ultimatum). I don't know if it was intentional - I'm guessing it is, because I picked it up immediately. I might or might not have squealed in delight.

[otome-dissection]

the way that I've sat through like one session of gaiden so far and I have like 50 screenshots almost entirely of just Joryu's face bro why is he so beautiful I'm sorry anyways look at him look at him right now

[bijoumikhawal]

I saw a dumbfuck post about how the only realistic options are that Palestinians or Israelis commit total genocide (what's going on now stupid?), they keep fighting until another country takes over and treats them both badly, or ~both sides forgive each other~ and how the last one is the only good option, and I wanna break that down but like. Lemme just say realistically immediately after the creation of a Palestinian state what will probably happen is 1) many Israelis will leave because they won't want to live in a state where Palestinians have nominally equal rights, and many of them have been indoctrinated to believe Palestinians are rabid 2) many of the Israelis who do stay will still hold economic privileges over many Palestinians and will as such hold sway in the government alongside Palestinians that have managed to build wealth and the popular resistance leaders that survive to see a Palestinian state

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [3] - Downpour

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Thanks to @chibi-lioness for beta reading!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Evening rain comes out of nowhere.

Word Count: 4540

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language

Series Masterlist

Fine.

Maybe you did have a crush.

And maybe the said crush was taking over all your thoughts to the point that you could barely focus on anything other than him, but that was completely normal.

Just like you and your best friend analyzing every single second of your interaction with your crush was completely normal.

“He actually lifted your car?”

You nodded your head, filling both her glass and yours with wine before tucking your legs under you.

“With one hand,” you said, leaning back to the arm of the couch. “He did that with one hand.”

“And you didn’t jump his bones right then and there?”

“No but I may have rambled about going to jail if the car fell on him and also not knowing who would take care of Theo.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” she asked with a scoff. “I’d take care of Theo. We’d come to visit you every weekend.”

“Thanks Julie.”

“I’d even sign you up for those inmate dating websites.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh, no thank you.”

“Hey, if you accidentally kill the ridiculously hot mutant guy—”

“Logan.”

“Yeah, Logan. If you accidentally kill him, you might as well exchange some dirty letters with someone else.”

“Can we please focus on the fact that I actually have a crush on him?”

“We absolutely can,” Julie grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Aw look at you! It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute!” you whined, slipping a little on the couch. “Julie, I talk absolute nonsense whenever he and I cross paths.”

“Babe, I mean it in the best way possible,” she said and motioned at your face. “I doubt any guy really listens to any word coming out of your mouth when you look like this, so you’re fine.”

“So not true,” you stated and sipped your wine. “I mean either way, it’s not like anything could happen between us so I’ll just, you know, fantasize about him and gaze at him longingly. Should be fine.”

Julie rolled her eyes at you. “Come on.”

“No seriously, because Theo—”

“Sweetheart,” she said. “You got pregnant at 18. Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo is the most perfect kid in the entire world but keep in mind that while we were all out partying, you were taking care of a baby.”

“It’s fine, I lived vicariously through you.”

“And now that you’re in your twenties and hot as fuck,” Julie said, ignoring your comment. “You don’t think it’s time to live a little?”

“It’d confuse Theo if I started dating around, especially with Logan—”

“Fine, then don’t date Logan. Just fuck his brains out.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the moment I sleep with him, I will be trying to decide on the wallpaper of our future cabin in the woods,” you pointed out, getting a handful of popcorn from the bowl and she scoffed.

“I still can’t believe you want a cabin in the woods.”

“I want a cabin in the woods and I want a horse and a cat and two dogs,” you insisted. “Anyway, the point is, no strings attached is not a thing for me when it comes to a guy that hot. He lifted a car for me, Julie!”

“And you want him to lift you up and down repeatedly,” Julie said with a grin, making you throw a popcorn at her.

“I doubt I’m his type,” you said and she groaned.

“You cannot be serious.”

“No I am, because men like him go for…” you trailed off and threw your head back. “Ugh, I so want to show you his picture so that you’ll know what I’m talking about but I don’t have one!”

“I have this mental image of a very hot lumberjack in mind.”

“That would be correct,” you said before taking a sip of your wine, but then your phone started vibrating on the table and you frowned, then snatched it off the table when you saw the caller ID.

“Theo?” you answered immediately. “Are you alright?”

“Hi mommy!”

You let out a breath at the cheerful tone of his voice, then pressed a hand on your chest and checked the time on the phone.

“What are you doing up, bean?” you asked. “It’s late at night.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m with auntie Julie,” you said and Julie grinned.

“Hi Theo, I missed you sweetheart!” she called out, making Theo giggle.

“Hi auntie Julie!” he said. “Mommy, I thought about it, and I solved how I can have fish.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.

“I’m listening, bean.”

“Okay so,” he said. “We will get two fish, and we will put them in an aquarium, but like a bowl, not a huge aquarium.”

You hummed.

“That’s where they’ll stay at the weekends when I’m there,” he said. “And then, on weekdays, I will bring them here, and put them in the lake, and that’s where they can stay within the week! They’d even make friends with other fish!”

You let out a small laugh.

“Theo, my love,” you said. “How will you catch them again if you put them in the lake?”

He paused for a moment.

“Um, I’d call them by their names,” he said. “Cheeto and Popcorn. They’d come.”

“Fish don’t do that baby,” you said softly. “How about you make friends with fish there in the lake and on the weekends they can just spend time with their own friends?”

“Yes but—” he started but then got distracted for a moment by something. “It’s my mom!”

“I know bub,” you heard Logan’s deep voice and your eyes widened. You sat up straight immediately, making Julie tilt her head in confusion. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Mommy, Mr. Logan says hi to you.”

“Uh, tell him I said hi back,” you said after a beat, hearing Theo parrot what you said as you covered the bottom part of the phone with your palm, then mouthed ‘Logan’ to Julie.

“What?!” she whispered and you cleared your throat.

“And tell him to please watch that you don’t have any sweets before bed, for his sake.”

“No!”

“Bean.”

“Ugh fine!” he said. “Mr Logan, my mom says please watch that I don’t have any sweets before bed for your sake.”

You could hear Logan’s chuckle, making you bite at your lip before he spoke.

“Can I borrow the phone for a minute Theo?”

Your jaw dropped and you motioned at the phone frantically, and Julie pulled you by the arm and made you lower the phone a little so that she could hear as well. You pressed your finger to your lips, signaling her to be silent before Theo’s excited “sure!” and there was a shuffling on the other line for a moment before Logan’s voice reached you again.

“So no chocolate before bed then?”

Julie gripped your wrist, mouthing “hot voice!” to you and you let out a giggle, trying to focus.

“Nope,” you said. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

You could hear Theo in the background; “I think I can have one chocolate.”

“No no,” you said, shaking your head. “He can’t.”

“Sorry bub, whatever your mom says goes.”

“Um, Logan,” you said, your mind going overdrive again. “If he’s up this late, he will turn the puppy dog eyes on for dessert, and he can be very, very insistent but sugar makes him incredibly energetic, and he will end up blowing a hole in the wall because of his powers so you can’t—”

“Relax princess,” Logan said and you could almost hear his faint smile. “It’s fine.”

Julie’s eyes widened and she fell on her back onto the couch dramatically, kicking her legs in the air while slapping the pillow and you stood up, your heart beating in your ears.

“How’s the car?” he asked and you licked your lips.

“Oh I changed my mechanic, so it’s at the new mechanic’s shop for a couple of days. My friend has been driving me to work—” Julie waved a hand from where she was lying down on the couch. “But apparently it’ll be fixed the day after tomorrow so it’s totally fine.”

“Are you being safe?”

“I am,” you said. “Are you?”

“Am I being safe?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “What with lifting cars and stuff, it can be dangerous.”

“Half a chocolate!” Theo said as if it was the brightest idea in the world. “Half—Mr. Logan, can I have the phone back please?”

You ran a hand over your face and cleared your throat.

“Sorry about that,” you said and Logan chuckled.

“Not a problem,” he said. “Good night.”

“Good night Logan,” you said, your head spinning with excitement and you heard the shuffling, then Theo took a deep breath.

“Mommy, half a chocolate!”

“Not at night,” you said. “We’ve talked about this bean. You can have chocolate tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay?”

“But—”

“Theo,” you said. “After breakfast.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I know bean,” you said softly. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mkay,” he said with a huff. “I’m going to sleep then.”

“Okay, I love you!” you said. “Call me tomorrow and be nice to your teachers, okay?”

“I will,” he said. “Love you too!”

He hung up and you let out a breath, then tossed the phone on the couch while Julie sat up.

“Oh he talks you through it!” she said, slamming the pillow on the couch. “I just know he talks you through it!”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your cheeks burning and she let out a laugh.

“Oh please, with that voice…”

“That’s what I mean!” you said and flung yourself on the couch. “He’s…he’s so amazing and Theo adores him and he’s so good with him too and to repeat, he lifted a car for me!”

“Aw,” Julie said. “He’s gonna be such a good stepdad to Theo.”

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head.

“We’re not even thinking about that,” you said, pointing at her. “We’re keeping our expectations very, very low, okay?”

She hummed, then tilted her head.

“Do you want to check Pinterest for cabins in the woods to see which one could be your and Logan’s in the future?”

You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said. “That sounds like keeping our expectations low, sure.”

                                                *

Despite having drunk until midnight and consequently having a hangover in the morning, the next day went without a hitch. You’d only had a couple of rude customers, which in service industry counted as a normal day if not a good one, but because of last night you were more than ready to get home, eat a bunch of snacks and go to sleep.

Towards the end of your shift, rain started pouring and you couldn’t help the whine escaping from your lips, leaning back to the counter. You could hear your friend Stacey’s small laugh as she looked out the window, then back to you.

“It’s just summer rain love,” she said. “It’ll stop.”

“Yeah but I’ll have to walk to the subway under that rain and I don’t have a coat with me,” you pointed out. “Ugh. Great. I’ll look like a horror movie protagonist by the time I get there.”

“This is why I am a huge advocate of waterproof makeup.”

You hummed, chewing on the pen in your hand as you grabbed your phone to check the weather forecast, faintly hearing the door opening behind you.

“It says it’ll rain until—what?” you asked Stacey when you lifted your head to see her raise her brows at something by the tables area and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heart jumping to your throat the moment you did so.

“Logan?”

Jesus, he looked way too handsome. He gave you a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair as if he was trying to get rid of the raindrops clinging to it, then approached the counter.

“Hey.”

“H—hi!” you said, your voice going way too high-pitched all of a sudden. “Uh, welcome! It’s so nice to see you, what—what can I get you?”

“I can take his order love,” Stacey said helpfully. “Your shift is over, get home before rain gets worse.”

“No no, I can stay.”

“I’m not here to eat actually,” Logan said, making you pull back a little.

“…Is Theo okay?” you asked, your stomach dropping as the thought hit you and he nodded his head.

“Oh he’s fine don’t worry,” he quickly assured you. “He was trying to name all the fish in the lake with his friends while I was leaving. I came to take you home actually.”

You blinked a couple of times.

“You drove all the way here from the institute just to take me home?” you asked just to make sure you had heard him right and he nodded again as if it was completely normal.

“You said your car is at the mechanic’s.”

One of these days, you were going to melt into a puddle in front of him.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said. “I’d hate to be a bother, and I’m sure you have other things to do, so I can just—”

“What did we say about you being too polite?” he asked, his voice almost chiding in a teasing manner, making warmth spread from your chest to your fingertips and a smile you couldn’t stop lit up your face, making you shift your weight, way too excited to just stand there.

“Um,” you said. “Just—just wait here okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I won’t.”

You took a step back, and rushed to the kitchen, making the line cook turn his head.

“Hey, leaving already?”

“Yeah. Paul, where’s the pie?”

“Over there,” he said, motioning at the counter. “What’s the rush?”

You grabbed the pie to put it into the container while Stacey entered the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend, and more importantly, why didn’t you tell me he was this hot?!”

“What boyfriend?” Paul asked and Stacey motioned at the window.

“Look, right there.”

“He is not my boyfriend,” you said, your cheeks burning and Paul stole a look out the window, then let out a whistle.

“I was going to try to win you over but holy shit, that’s one hot dude.”

“And get this, he came here to drive her home.”

“He’s just being nice.”

“Car sex in the rain, got it.”

“He is my friend!”

“Oh really? So you’d be okay if I went out there and gave him my number?”

You blinked a couple of times and scoffed a laugh.

“Yeah but he…” you trailed off, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “He has a girlfri—he’s married,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. He’s not wearing a ring because he is having it cleaned, and also he has—he has this condition that he can’t have sex with anyone. A disease.”

Out of the corner of your eye through the small kitchen window, you could see Logan tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“When he does, his partner’s… lower region just falls off, and it’s very gruesome, and if you haven’t heard of that condition, it’s because he’s like the only person in the world who has it, they named the disease after him,” you added. “Doctors call him a medical wonder.”

Stacey turned to Paul.

“She’s so gonna fuck him in the car.”

“She’s not gonna do that!” you exclaimed and cleared your throat, pushing the box into a plastic bag. “I’m—I’m leaving, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Theo doesn’t need a sibling yet, use protection!” Stacey teased you and you shook your head, then pushed the kitchen door and stepped out.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly, your whole face on fire and you held up the plastic bag. “The pie as promised.”

He gave you a calm smile, his eyes darting over you.

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“Um no, but it’s fine—” you started but before you had the chance to say anything else, he had already taken his leather jacket off to put it over your shoulders.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Logan said as he opened the door for you and you stepped outside, Logan gently steering you to a truck with his hand on the small of your back, making you bite back a smile. As soon as you reached the truck and got in, you let out a breath and put the plastic bag on the back seat, then put your seatbelt on. Logan got in as well, then started the engine and began driving.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Really.”

“No problem.”

“I could just put it in the GPS or…” you trailed off when you noticed that there was no screen or phone or phone holder in sight so you nodded to yourself. “I don’t—you know, I’m against being a prisoner to technology myself so I can totally relate, and yeah I’ll just put my phone here.”

You quickly found your home address and touched the screen, then carefully placed it on the dashboard and stole a look at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said. “As long as it’s not about my condition.”

“Your condition?”

“Yeah, that disease you were talking about just now?”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as embarrassment hit you, your cheeks growing hot and a whine escaped from your lips.

“You heard that?”

“Mm hm.”

You slipped a little in your seat, burying your face into your hands, the sight making him chuckle as you took a deep breath and lifted your head to look at him again.

“I can explain,” you said. “It’s just that…Stacey is—you know, she’s incredibly nice but I don’t think she’s over her last boyfriend and I was trying to spare her feelings. Wait, did you want to get her number? Because if you did—”

“No.”

A small spark of hope shot through your system.

“Oh,” you managed to say. “Okay. Um, sorry I made up a nonexistent STD about you.”

“No problem,” he said with a smirk. “But for future reference, you might want to go with the wife lie. I can’t get diseases.”

You nodded slowly. “Because of clean eating?”

“Because of the X-gene.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him.

“Wait, what?” you asked. “But Theo got sick multiple times after his powers showed.”

“Not for every mutant,” he said. “My body heals itself.”

“Against everything?”

“Mm hm.”

“What if we had a car crash right now?”

“I’ve been in car crashes, healed in a second.”

“What if someone attacked you with a knife?”

“Happened before, healed instantly.”

“What if someone shot you?”

“Multiple people did in multiple wars. I healed.”

You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, wars?”

“Like I said,” he said after a beat. “My body heals itself. Against injuries, and time.”

You frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard and as soon as the thought hit you, you gasped.

“Oh my God, Logan,” you said. “Did you know Marie Antoinette?”

“What?” he asked with a grimace, turning to look at you better. “What is it with you and Theo and France? He asked me if I knew Napoleon the other day.”

You raised your brows. “Did you?”

“No!” he said. “No, I was born in 1832.”

Holy shit, Julie was right.

You did have a thing for older men but having a crush on an almost 200-year-old man was just a little bit excessive, even for you.

A silence fell upon the car and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, just in disbelief,” you muttered. “Do you miss it? Back then?”

He shook his head.

“Not really,” he said. “It was terrible. Now is better, it’s just a little too...”

“Chaotic?” you asked and he scoffed, then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “A little too chaotic.”

“I mean I wasn’t born in the 19th century but I know what you mean,” you said. “Seriously, if I could just live in a cabin in the woods with Theo and a cat, two dogs and a horse, I’d do it. I even have all their names.”

“What are the names?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said. “The cat will be Catapult—”

“Are you seriously going to name your cat after a pun?”

“Damn right I am,” you said, counting with your fingers. “The dogs are Underdog and Overdog.”

“Jesus.”

“And the horse’s name used to be Princess Pink Sparkle Her Highness when I was six, but now I think I’m just going to name her Hi-Horse so that someone can tell me to get off my high horse one day.”

Logan looked like he was in actual pain for some reason.

“But listen, the list used to go like, a cat, a dog and a horse, and I figured like, if I get one dog, why not have two, you know?” you asked. “I couldn’t possibly leave Underdog without a friend, because as much as I love cats, they can be kind of assholes sometimes to dogs, they can’t help it, so that’s how Overdog came into being, and there were also ducks named Comma, Colon, Semicolon, and Exclamation, and their babies were going to be named Parenthesis, Dash and Hyphen but then I realized that would mean I'd need to have the cabin next to a lake, and ever since I watched that one creepy horror movie I’m terrified of lakes at night because I really don’t think we should mess with any bodies of water and—” you managed to stop yourself and cleared your throat. “Just…feel free to stop me when I do this.”

“I like it when you do it,” Logan stated without taking his eyes off the road, as if he was talking about the weather and your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.

“…People usually hate it.”

“People are idiots.”

“Someone I used to know would cover my mouth whenever I rambled too much.”

“And you didn’t break their hand?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh, then shook your head.

“Nope,” you muttered. “That sounds like a good idea though.”

“It is,” he said, reaching out to grab the cigar resting by the gear stick, and opened his window a little.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you said. “You smoke cigars?”

“Mm hm,” he said, patting his jeans for a lighter, then looked around the car before his hazel eyes fell on you. “I think my lighter is in the jacket pocket, would you…?”

“Oh sure!” you said and felt around the leather jacket over your shoulders, then pulled out the lighter and flicked it, the warmth caressing your hand for a moment before you held it out for him. Logan stole a look at you, his gaze stopping on your face illuminated by the flame before he leaned in to hold the tip of the cigar to the flame.

You had no idea why, but it felt strangely intimate.

“Thanks,” he murmured and you offered him a hesitant smile, flicking the cap of the lighter back before carefully placing it beside the gear stick.

“Sure,” you said, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Um, I used to smoke cigarettes. Mostly to look cool.”

“Did it work?”

“Not really,” you admitted as he stole a look at the GPS, then back at the road. “Never a cigar though, do you mind if I try it?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Are you trying to look cool right now?”

“Hey, if you don’t think I’m cool after learning my future pets’ names, I don’t think a cigar is gonna help it.”

That coaxed a chuckle out of him and he held out his hand so that you could take the cigar from him. The moment your fingertips brushed against his skin, his hand twitched, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster and you brought the cigar to your lips with a trembling hand, then took a drag.

“Don’t inhale—” Logan started but you had already inhaled the smoke, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest as soon as you did. Logan pulled over and through the coughs, you realized you were right in front of your apartment but you couldn’t even thank him as you pounded your chest with your fist, then took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes with one hand while handing him the cigar back with the other.

“Ugh, that’s terrible!” you whined. “You smoke that willingly?”

“You’re not supposed to inhale it.”

You made a face and wiped at your eyes again, sniffling.

“Not supposed to inhale it?” you repeated as you straightened your back to look at him better, your brows pulled together in almost a petulant manner. “What’s the point of it then?”

The calm smile that graced his lips was almost taunting and he reached out to wipe at the remnant of a tear under your eye with a knuckle, your breath catching in your throat.

“The taste, princess,” he said, his deep voice sending an excited shiver down your spine as he pulled his hand back. “The taste is the point.”

…Oh.

Oh you were so going to melt in front of him one of these days.

That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it did, you were sure of it but that did nothing to stop the fire spreading over your cheeks, making you shift a little in your spot before he nodded to the window.

“Is this your place?”

You had to force yourself to drag your eyes away from him and looked outside even if you knew where you were, then nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah that’s—that’s me.”

A silence fell upon the car and you cleared your throat, trying to snap out of the daze you were in.

“Thank you,” you said after a beat. “For…for all of this, really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said and you looked outside again, now realizing the rain had stopped so you grabbed your phone off the dashboard, unbuckled your seatbelt and slipped the jacket off your shoulders, his unwavering gaze almost too hot on your skin.

“Good night Logan,” you said softly and opened your door to step out of the car, then made your way to the building. You climbed up the stairs, a giggle you couldn’t stop escaping from your lips as you unlocked your door, then stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind you before leaning back against it.

“Alright…” you breathed out, your heart beating in your ears. “Yeah, okay. I definitely have a crush.”

[4] - Ray of Light

[littlematchagirlll]

one of my friends (also a leftist) said that because we live in utah, it doesn't matter who he votes for, and there's no way he will vote for a "fucking cop who was complicit in genocide."

he is telling his friends in utah that they have zero say in who is president, so they shouldn't vote for harris.

and, i love him, but i think that line of thinking is really damaging.

if the stakes were lower for this election, then sure! i'm all in favor of third parties, and i do think that should be more normalized. it would be great to get to a point where we have more viable options than just democrats and republicans.

but this election is against trump. if trump wins, we get project 2025.

this isn't your father's republican party that just wanted to lower taxes and have more free trade. we are looking at rights being taken away for several marginalized communities. major changes that will set us back decades. there is too much on the line, and harris needs every single vote she can get.

saying you won't vote for harris because you live in a red state and don't think your vote will count... like a vote for a third party will??

you're really just saying that you don't mind trump winning, or if you do, you aren't willing to actually do what it takes to stop it.

as for being complicit with the genocide, aren't we all? our tax money is going to the genocide. we are complicit, whether we like it or not.

and harris has openly advocated for a ceasefire! also, do you think trump won't be complicit in the genocide? do you not think he would actively support israel? i'd rather have a president that calls for a ceasefire than one who doesn't. i'd rather have a president who is willing to push back on israel than one who be pushed around by israel.

there's more hope for a ceasefire with harris than there is with trump, and that's worth something.

my friend said "when people look back at your history, don't let them see your name next to a war criminal's."

honestly? in this election, i would rather have my name seen next to harris because that shows i understood that the future of our country and the safety of its citizens was more important than my personal moral superiority.

i don't just vote to make a fucking point. i vote because it impacts people's lives.

it seriously feels like some people are okay with watching the country burn, as long as they feel morally superior.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP: Travel Buddy

"I already told you I'm not going to another country! I'm going to New Mexico!" The shout echoes with frustration across the airport. Dick looks up from his phone to where a man is arguing with a woman behind a counter. She has a pinched grimace on her face, an expression only those who have worked in customer service are familiar with.

It's the look of someone who dances on the line of "I don't need to up with this bullshit. I don't need this job" and "Think of your bills, think of your check, stay calm."

There is a long line behind him, where everyone is making faces at the delay.

Dick often preferred to travel with Justice League tech, as nothing beat the speed of instant teleportation, but he needed to have some records of traveling the normal for his civilian identity. It would be suspicious if he was seen worldwide with no signs of how he got there.

It was a necessary evil to have his loveable wanderlust persona that was Dick Grayson-Wayne. He had taken a few aspects of Brucie Wayne but replaced the playboy reputation with a restlessness that couldn't stand being in one place for too long.

Growing up with people constantly pointing out how attractive he was, which would have been fine were it not for the rich old men and women who leered at him through his teen years. He could not stomach being a playboy, allowing those who objectified him to think he enjoyed their attention.

It was easier to be the easily distracted, pretty son who was always away from home instead. It helped that Bruce had plenty of private jets to gift his son for whatever whimsy urge to move hit him. That was why he was in Illinois today.

Dick's jet had needed to stop for some fuel, and like most commercial airlines, they were told that they needed to wait before heading up again. They may have enough money to afford their own planes, but commercial planes have the right of way.

Then a storm was reported at Gotham Airlines, and his pilot told Dick they were grounded until it cleared up. It could be a delay of six hours.

Dick didn't mind, having told his staff to take a break. If it got too bad, he would buy everyone a hotel room to try again tomorrow. His private jet staff seemed stunned by the offer, insisting they could wait to see if it was clear enough to fly in a few hours.

He had decided he wanted to have some crappy airport snacks, as it was part of the experience, and walked around the airport munching on his chocolate donut. He found a little booth selling local coffee, prompting him to find a seat near the welcome counter and scroll through his phone.

He still had three hours to kill, so he considered exploring the area a little. I suggest finding some hotels just in case. There was little in this place. The closest city was Amity Park, but it was only beside the mall and a decent burger joint; there was little to do.

It was one of those small towns that, despite not having many people, was well spread out due to all the open spaces. The people who lived there either raised a family, retired or had bloodlines traced generations back to the town's founding.

"Sir, as I stated before, you need a passport, and you have to pay for an international ticket to go to Mexico," The woman hissed. Some people in line began muttering about how annoying the man was for arguing.

"All I have is my driver's license. I could go home for my passport. That's no issue, but I am not paying for an international ticket to Mexico when I am not going there! I'm staying in the US! New Mexico is a state!" the man shouts, flailing his long black trenchcoat. It makes the black ponytail swing side to side as he leans on the counter. "How do you work in travel and not know that!?"

"What is going on here?" A man demands, stepping beside the gumming woman. Dick can tell he is the manager just by the way his uniform looks different.

"This man is refusing to listen." The counter lady practically spits and is now leaning well over the "I don't need this job" side of the customer service line. Dick finds himself standing up as the manager gets a quick rundown of the problem.

The crowd was getting impatient, even with the two other representatives slowly calling up the next customer. Curious by the outcome, Dick drifts closer, listening to the man explain that he wants to go to New Mexico to study the enormous reports of violent paranormal sightings.

He was apparently visiting all highly haunted states in the US to write a book about the history of the hauntings, but when he was attempting to get his ticket, the woman had been convinced he was leaving the country. Dick watched in real-time as the manager also seemed to think New Mexico was in Mexico because he began to explain the international policy to the fuming man.

They threatened to put him on the no-fly list if he continued causing them trouble. That angered the traveler even more, and he raised his voice and waved his arms as he insisted the location be within the country.

Dick pulls out his phone, typing with one thumb quickly and pulling up a map of the country. He slid right next to the trio, standing at the stranger's left with an easy smile.

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time?" He asks

The woman's frustration is now nearing its tipping point, but the manager must have recognized him, for he hastily scrambles to make his expression more pleasant.

"Mr. Grayson-Wayne! Please give me one moment to sort this out. I can help you if that's okay with you. I'm sorry for the delay. Karen, call security to have this man escorted out."

"What!?" Demands the guy as the woman grins.

"With pleasure."

"New Mexico is a US state, " Dick cuts in, displaying his screen. "It's been one since 1912, I'm afraid."

The airline employees are pale as they stare at his phone before the manager pulls it out of his pocket and types rapidly on it. A few seconds later, his already white face goes even whiter.

Dick considers the man next to him, who has a grin starting to bloom on his face. It's a pretty handsome face if he's honest. A dig has him looking away towards his phone.

It's a message from his pilot. It seems the storm was due to Mr. Freeze, and they weren't expecting it to clear for at least four days. He was asking if there was anywhere else Dick wanted to fly to.

"I'm so sorry. I'll bump you up to first class." The manager says to the stranger, who is looking rather smug now. Dick considers his pilot's question before thinking, why not.

He does have an image to uphold, after all.

"Would you like a ride in my private jet? " Dick turns to the man, who blinks at him while cutting off the rambling of the woman and the manger. "I can drop you off wherever you want in New Mexico. Where were you headed?"

"Ugh, I wanted to visit Dawnson Cemetry, " the man stammers. "I-do you really have a private jet?"

"Yeah. Would you like to go with me?"

There is a moment of hesitation before the man grabs his wallet off the counter and nods. "If it's not too much trouble," he responds cautiously.

"It's not. I'm Dick Grayson-Wayne, by the way."

"Danny Fenton."

Dick waves the two employees away, winking at them as they slump in relief that Danny doesn't seem to want to make this into an incident. Likely, he had just been upset they weren't listening.

"Most haunted places in the US, huh?" Dick asks while sending a text to his crew. He gets confirmation that they can head over to the southwest post haste. "Aren't you scared of ghosts?"

Danny gives an odd little smirk. "I haven't been afraid of ghosts since I was fourteen."

Dick stares at his mouth a little too long, swinging his gaze back to his phone when he gets a message from Bruce. His dad had been informed of the flight change and was using the coded message to confirm Dick being the one to change it.

He types out a response, ignoring the fluttering of his heart. If he checks to see what other states are highly haunted as Danny looks around his jet with a fallen jaw, that's only because he has four days to kill.

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[imsobadatnicknames2]

ok but i need the evrart claire essay

Okay just be warned that this is gonna be less of an "essay" and more of a loose collection of thoughts, and I don't know how fresh or novel any of these ideas are going to be when it pertains to popular Disco Elysium fan discourse because I don't really do fandom, you know?

Anyway, I think the most obvious factet of Evrart's character is how he very intentionally calls to mind a caricature of corrupt union leaders, the image of a sleazy mobster who only cares about his own personal gain but pays lip service to leftist politics and pretends to care about the interests of workers as a way to obtain and maintain his power. And I think a lot of people straightforwardly read him as such, because that's the way he carries himself and the type of character the game is riffing on. There's also the question of how much of Evrart's manipulative, duplicitous attitude is just how he normally acts and how much of it is him specifically acting that way towards Harry and Kim specifically, it's important to have in mind that your main character is a cop and that would definitely play a role in making Evrart go out of his way to be a bit more of a bastard and toy with you a bit before he decides to actually do anything helpful.

However, once you dig a little deeper into his characterization, it becomes clear that he's pulling a very interesting double bluff, because it becomes apparent that the shady mobster who only cares about his personal gain is an act he's putting on. He's very self-aware about the fact that he's playing the villain, he seems to actively revel in it, but ultimately, it seems like he does it because playing the villain is the way he gets shit done.

This is not to say he's not actually corrupt, or that he's not ALSO involved in all sorts of shady stuff and taking advantage of his position of power, but the game does make it apparent that on some level he DOES have the interests of the people of Martinaise at heart.

For example, it is textually stated that the harbor doesn't need a night watchman, and Evrart created the position specifically to provide a source of income for René. He knows the pension Rene gets is not enough for him to live on, but he's also aware that René is the sort of right-wing guy who would rather starve to death than take a handout (especially from those dirty union commies), so Evrart created a job position which pretty much involves doing nothing for a few hours every night so he could help him with his economic troubles in a way he wouldn't refuse out of principle. René hates his guts, ideologically stands against everything his organization represents, and is generally an unlikeable asshole and a fascist prick, but he's also a disadvantaged member of the community and that seems to matter more.

Even when he asks you to get the signatures to build the community center, which is definitely one of the most morally questionable things he does during the events of the game (as it will improve the community, but at the same time displace the people from the fishing village), his intentions seem to be ultimately good. Due to the very nature of his character and the act he puts on, it's purposefully hard to tell when he's being sincere and when he's being manipulative. However, if Harry's drama and empathy skills are high enough when he's confronted about it, you'll be able to tell that he's not lying about his motives for wanting to build a community center or about the fact that he intends to provide better housing for the people displaced by the project, and that he feels genuine rage about their current living conditions. It can still be said that he's ignoring their self-determination and essentially forcing these people out of their current homes, but he does seem to have good intentions and think he's doing a good thing for them in the long run, even if his methods are morally questionable at best.

In that way, the Union is an extension of him in this regard too. They're pretty unapologetic about the fact that they're openly operating as a crime syndicate, but the game doesn't give you any reasons to believe they're lying when they say they're doing it as a way to muslce out all the more dangerous gangs and crime organizations out of Martinaise, or that their involvement in the drug trade is at least partially motivated by a desire to make sure it's not controlled by more dangerous and violent crime organizations. Again, they're playing the villain as a way to fill that power vacuum and make sure more dangerous people don't fill that role (but of course, that doesn't erase the fact that, noble as their intentions may be, they're still involved in all these shady activities and turning a pretty substantial profit from them too)

Of course, on the other hand, just because the game seems to hint at the fact that Evrart and the Union are, deep down, a force for good, doesn't erase the fact that he's done plenty of bad shit to further his interests, and the game doesn't shy away from this. He's still extremely corrupt, his long-term plan to wrestle control of the harbor away from the company and turn it into a worker-owned operation (which *would* massively improve the material conditions of the dockworkers if succesful) involves endangering the lives of a lot of his own workers, he and his brother Edgar pass the position of union foreman back and forth between each other to circumvent the term limit and keep themselves in power indefinitely, and if you explore all dialogue options with the Deserter it's all but explicitly stated that they rose to power by getting him to assassinate the previous Union forewoman.

These are things that Evrart himself would probably rationalize as sacrifices that need to be made for the greater good. After all, it is implied that the previous union forewoman was also corrupt, except in favor of the company's interests, and might have even been a company plant. However, this doesn't make those things morally right. Good intentions nonwithstanding, it's clear that the Claire brothers are very "the ends justify the means" kind of people, they probably see getting the previous Union leader killed or endangering the lives of the dockworkers to overthrow the company that exploits them as "pulling the lever" in the trolley problem, which is extremely callous at best.

Here's where we get a little more into "disjointed thoughts" territory, but Evrart can also be seen as a critique of the limits of trade unionism and social democrat politics. Something that I completely missed in my first playthrough but was able to catch on during my second is that the people of the fishing village refuse to unionize, and as a result they don't get the same level of support and protection that the union provides to the people of the more urban section of Martinaise. This is apparently widely known enough for characters other than Evrart to comment on (I forget what character I learned this from, but it was definitely not Evrart). So it's clear that Evrart and the Union put their interests of the members of their own organization over those of other working class people, which is one criticism that can be leveraged against the way a lot of leftists seem to treat unions as the ultimate tool for worker class liberation.

Similarly, when Evrart tells you his long-term plans, it's clear that his ultimate goals don't involve complete worker liberation. As far as the game shows, he's a socdem who's still looking to work within the confines of capitalism. There are more radically left wing characters in Disco Elysium, but Evrart is the only one with any actual power to affect change, which kinda speaks to the lack of presence of more hardline leftist positions in mainstream politics. As someone living in Latin America, I kinda ended up seeing a bit of a lot of our currrent socdem politicians in him in that respect, I guess, but i'd need more time to articulate this thought properly, I guess.

Ultimately, I think Evrart is an amazingly crafted character. He evokes a well-known archetype of a shady, corrupt, power-hungry union leader, but he adds a lot of depth, self-awareness, and nuance to it and subverts that characterization in several ways. I think he atually serves an important role of ideologically challenging players who share the developers' and writers' political leanings. I think it would have been very self-congratulatory and autocomplacent to make the most influential leftist character in the game an unambiguously good paragon of workers' rights and working class liberation. By instead giving us someone who's an absolute callous bastard who definitely has a bit of blood on his hands, who's a socdem at best and a self-serving mob boss at worst, but can ultimately be interpreted as a force for good, and asking the players to decide what they think of him I think it brings interesting questions to the table of our commitment to material gains, what sorts of people we're willing to work with, and the sort of acts we're willing to tolerate, and makes the game a lot more thematically rich.

I also think a good analysis of Evrart is incomplete without an analysis of the ways in which he serves a a charater foil for Joyce, but I don't feel like getting into that rn.

[hoshifighting]

hii!!! i really loved your svt reaction to being caught masturbating and wanted to request a svt reaction to walking in on reader instead? sorry if you’ve already done this or it’s been requested!!!

seventeen catching you masturbating WARNINGS: smut, fingering, dirty talk, oral.

seungcheol catches you mid-moan, his eyes widening in shock before they smile. you feel a jolt of embarrassment but can’t stop the movement of your fingers. his gaze is intense, and he can hear your wetness as you slide in and out. he stands there for a moment, seemingly frozen. then he steps in, arms crossed like he’s scolding you, but the bulge in his pants gives him away. “I bet your fingers don't feel as good as mine.”

jeonghan finds amusement in your embarrassment, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out on the bed. you think he’s just going to watch, but he surprises you by sitting on the edge of the bed “such a needy girl,” he teases, his fingers replacing yours, circling your clit with a firm touch that makes you melt into the sheets. his sly smile and gentle cooing make you feel even more embarrassed and aroused. “didn’t think you’d need me this badly, did you?”

joshua walks in, stiffening when he hears your moans echoing from the bathroom. he sees the door slightly ajar and can’t resist. throwing his bag and stripping off his shoes and tie, he strides to the bathroom, pushing the shower door open. you gasp as he steps in, fully clothed, getting drenched, pressing you against the cold glass. “couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

junhui sees you but slips away before you notice him. he tries to act normal in the living room, but the image of your fingers buried inside yourself keeps replaying in his mind. when you walk in like nothing happened. finally, he loses his cool, rushing to kiss you. “i saw you,” he admits, breathless, his hands already moving to touch you where you need him most. “couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

soonyoung stands there, arms crossed, until you notice him. and the moment you lock eyes with him, he’s on you. pinning your hands above your head, he takes over, his other hand lowering to masturbate you. making you cry in oversensitivity—and a bit of embarrassment. “thought you were handling your fingers well,” your desperate state only spuring him on, making him push you further.

wonwoo silently watches, his quiet laughter barely audible over your moans. you’re so focused on your pleasure that you don’t notice him until you open your eyes after your orgasm, “wonwoo?!” his name a startled question on your lips. he scoffs, his fingers replacing yours, ignoring your protests as he continues to touch you, the overstimulation making you squirm.

jihoon would have his eyes wide, hands gripping the doorframe, knuckles white. he’s turning away to leave, but he hears you crying his name, making him lose his shit and almost fall in the hallway. fighting his own shyness, he walks in, ignoring your embarrassed and horny reaction. “be quiet,” he warns, closing the door behind him, his roommates’ presence on his mind. but as soon as his mouth is on your clit, you can’t hold back. his hand rushes to cover your mouth, muffling your moans, and his sly grin tells you he loves the effect he’s having on you.

minghao would knock on your open door just to see your reaction when you notice his presence. frozen. he has a big grin on his face, asking, “why did you stop?” as he sits in front of your open legs. your face flushes with shame, but his gaze is filled with curiosity. “keep going,” he urges, looking at the glob of cum dripping from your puffy cunt.

mingyu develops a voyeuristic streak for suuuure, quietly watching you from the shadows. he leaves work early just for the chance to catch you like this, his cock hardening as he watches. later, he fucks you harder than normal, asking “why you’re so sensitive today? hm?” a knowing smile on his face as you struggle to answer, the truth too embarrassing to admit.

seokmin is annoyed that you didn’t ask for his help. he joins his fingers with yours, pressing harder on your clit or pushing your toy deeper inside you. “why didn’t you just ask?” he murmurs, “you have me, to fuck you really good whenever you need it, why don't you take advantage of it, hm? answer me.”

seungkwan is delighted to see your embarrassment and your interrupted orgasm. “caught you red-handed,” he teases, his eyes glinting with mischief. he doesn’t touch you right away, letting the tension build until you’re begging for him to finish what you started.

vernon smiles as he watches you, his grin widening as he sees your mouth forming his name. “having fun?” he asks, his voice soft and teasing. “need some help?” you nod eagerly, your body aching for his touch. “next time, ask me baby,” you can only nod, too overwhelmed to form words.

chan would tease the shit out of you until you tell him to stop because it’s embarrassing. “didn’t know you were such a needy little thing,” he laughs, but then his expression turns serious as he moves closer. “let me make you feel really good,” he promises, his hands teasing your thighs as he takes over, making you see stars.

[thef1diary]

Piano Punishment | C. Leclerc

Summary: You feel neglected by Charles due to his busy schedule, so you ask him to play the piano for you to regain his attention. Things take a turn when you spread your legs right in front of him with only one rule: he must play without a single mistake.

Part 2: edged

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, spanking (like twice), things that should not be done on a piano.

wc: 2.4k

masterlist

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The summer sun filters through the lace curtains, casting intricate patterns of light and shadows across the room. You're standing by the window, feeling the heat of the day mixed with a simmering irritation. Charles had been distant lately, not entirely by choice. His time had been consumed by the relentless demands of being a Formula One driver. Now that summer break began, his focus had shifted to the excitement surrounding his new ice cream brand. Meetings, phone calls, and endless travel have left little room for the intimacy you once shared.

Determined to change that, you head to the bedroom, opening your wardrobe. You sift through your clothes, selecting a simple summer dress that clings to your curves in all the right places. It seemed normal, appropriate according to the weather, but it was just a part of your plan. You forego underwear, adding a tantalizing element only you were aware of.

You glance at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and letting your hair fall loosely around your shoulders. Satisfied with your appearance, you left the bedroom, your mind set on drawing Charles away from his duties.

You find him in his study, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen, engrossed in some unknown task. You walk in quietly, your presence a gentle intrusion into his self-imposed isolation.

"Charles," you say, your voice soft but insistent. "I want you to play the piano for me."

He looks up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he notices you standing there. His eyes take in your outfit, lingering on the way the simple summer dress hugged your curves. For a moment, he looked impressed, even a bit captivated, but then his expression shifted, a mixture of regret due to his duties.

"I've got so much work to do, mon amour," he stated, glancing back at his laptop, the weight of his responsibilities evident in his voice. "I really can't take a break right now."

You step closer, your fingers lightly grazing his arm, drawing his attention back to you. "Just one song," you coax, your tone leaving little room for refusal. "For me?"

He sighed, conflicted, but the look in your eyes and the subtle allure of your outfit began to sway him. With a reluctant nod, he closed the laptop and stood, following you to the living room. His piano stood majestically in the center, a reminder of the times when music flowed freely between you, of the mornings he woke you with melodies he created.

He sat on the bench, leaving enough room for you beside him, glancing up at you with a dimpled smile. However, you don't sit beside him as he expected. Instead, you climb on top of the piano, facing him with your legs dangling just above the keys. He raised his eyebrows in question but you only smiled in return.

"Play something beautiful," you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Charles started to play, his fingers dancing across the keys with practiced ease. The melody was filled with the kind of emotion that only he could bring to life. As the music fills the room, you shifted slightly, spreading your legs just enough to give him a glimpse of your bare skin beneath your dress.

His fingers faltered, and he stops playing abruptly, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab your legs. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and desire.

You pull your legs back, out of his grasp and lean forward, your expression turning serious. "I waited for you for days," you spoke, your voice edged with frustration. "You never came, you were always too busy. So now your punishment is that you don't get me, even if I'm right in front of you."

He looks up at you, the realization of your words sinking in. There's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, mingling with the desire and frustration. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his hands falling back to his sides. "I didn't realize—"

"You didn't," you cut him off, your tone firm. "But now you do. So if you want me, you have to earn it. Play the song, baby, without mistakes."

Charles took a deep breath, his fingers returning to the keys. The music starts again, this time with a new intensity, a determination to meet your challenge. You sit back casually, spreading your legs just enough to reveal that you're not wearing anything underneath your dress.

He catches a glimpse and his fingers falter, a note going sour as he looks up at you, eyes wide with surprise and a flash of desire. His hands momentarily freeze over the keys.

"Focus, Charles," you say, lifting your hips up to scrunch the dress up to your waist, giving him a full view bare legs. His gaze shifts from being locked onto your eyes down to your exposed pussy as you spread your legs again. "No mistakes."

He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbles under his breath, "I want to touch you."

You shake your head slowly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "Earn it then," you murmur.

His fingers moved gracefully to press the keys but you could see the tension in his posture based on the way his eyes kept flicking up to you, struggling to stay on task.

The melody continues, though it's punctuated by occasional hesitation as he tries to concentrate. You decide to up the ante. You bring your fingers up to your mouth, wetting them with your tongue before slowly trailing your hand down to your clit, teasing it lightly. You moan softly, the sound mingling with the music, causing his fingers to falter momentarily. His eyes widen, darkening with desire, but he forces himself to keep playing, his jaw clenched with the effort.

You watch him intently, your movements becoming more deliberate. Your fingers slide down, dipping into your wetness, smearing it over your pussy before inserting two inside. You began to slowly thrust them in and out, your back arching slightly with the pleasure. The sight of you, combined with the sensual sounds you made, is almost too much for him.

Charles' eyes keep flicking back to you, his focus slipping more with every passing second. You can see the raw desire in his gaze, the way he watches your every move, almost hypnotized. He struggles to maintain the melody, but you can tell he's on the brink of losing control.

"Keep playing, baby," you whisper, your voice sultry and commanding. "No mistakes."

His playing grows more erratic, his fingers dancing across the keys dangerously yet he still manages to press every note correctly. You moan louder as you thrust your fingers deeper, and when you lock your eyes with him, your expression is one of pure seduction.

"Do you like watching me, Charles?" you purr, your voice thick with arousal. "Does it make you want me even more?"

He nods almost imperceptibly, his eyes never leaving you. You can see the struggle in his expression, the way he's fighting to keep playing despite the overwhelming distraction.

"Good," you continue, your fingers moving faster. "Because that's all you're gonna get until you finish the song perfectly."

His breathing becomes ragged, his fingers slipping more frequently on the keys but he manages to catch himself before making a mistake. He knows he can't afford to start over; his patience wearing thin, and his cock is straining almost painfully against his pants.

Determined, he pours every ounce of focus into the final notes, his eyes flicking between the keys and your fingers moving rhythmically. The tension in the room is electric, your moans growing louder, each one pushing him closer to the edge of his control.

As he nears the end of the piece, you can feel your orgasm building, your body trembling with anticipation. The last few notes ring out, perfectly played, just as your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you gasping and shuddering in pleasure.

As soon as his fingers left the piano keys, he wrapped one hand around your wrist, bringing your cum-coated fingers to his lips. He licks them clean, his gaze locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. He moans at your distinct taste, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine since you knew the skill he had with his tongue.

"You have no idea how much I missed this," he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Without waiting for a response, Charles lowered his head between your spread legs, his mouth finding your clit with unerring precision. His tongue worked expertly, flicking and swirling, as his fingers entered your wetness, thrusting in time with the rhythm he set.

The pleasure built rapidly, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "Charles," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathless gasps and soft cries of pleasure.

His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open and at his mercy as he drove you relentlessly towards another orgasm.

"I want to feel you cum on my fingers," he mumbled against your sensitive clit, the vibrations of his voice sending you spiralling closer to the edge.

You could feel the tension coiling in your core, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure built higher and higher. "Charles, 'm so close," you panted, your voice breaking with need.

He intensified his efforts, his tongue and fingers moving with a coordinated accuracy that only heightened your pleasure. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered as your orgasm crashed over you in powerful waves.

Before you could catch your breath, Charles scooped you up, his strength lifting you effortlessly from the piano. He threw you over his shoulder, carrying you towards the bedroom with a determined stride.

"Charles!" you exclaimed when his palm landed on your ass, a mix of surprise and arousal in your voice.

He smirked, giving you another playful smack. "You think you can tease me like that and not face the consequences?" he asked, his voice low and dripping with desire. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, much less punish me for not giving you enough attention."

The anticipation and excitement made your heart race as he carried you into the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, his eyes dark with need as he quickly shed his clothes, revealing his hard, muscled body. He moved with purpose, his hands and mouth exploring your body with a renewed fervour once he stripped your dress off.

"You've had my attention all along," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot as he trailed kisses down your neck. "But today, mon bébé, you have all of me."

His words sent a shiver through your body, down to your pussy, clenching around nothing but air. He positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours, his cock hard and leaking precum. With a deep, intense kiss on your lips, he entered you slowly, making sure you felt every inch. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy.

He set a demanding pace, each thrust powerful and deliberate. His hands gripped onto your hips, holding you in place while the intensity of his movements left you breathless.

"I missed this so much," he panted, his eyes never leaving yours. "I missed you."

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you met his rhythm, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. "Charles," you moaned, your voice breaking with pleasure. "Don't stop."

He didn't. He continued to thrust into you with a relentless passion, his hands roaming your body, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, each moan and gasp driving you both closer to the edge.

"I'm going to make you cum again," he promised, his voice thick with desire. "And again. Until you can't take any more."

His words, combined with the intensity of his thrusts, pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. Charles didn't slow down; he continued to drive into you, prolonging your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When you thought you couldn't take any more, he shifted, changing the angle slightly, and began to move with even greater urgency. The sensation was too much, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. Another orgasm built quickly, your cries of pleasure filling the room as he brought you to the peak again.

He didn't stop until you were both completely spent, your body trembling and boneless beneath him. Only then, did he slow down, his movements becoming gentle, almost tender as he brought you down from the heights of your pleasure.

Finally, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as his cum leaked out of your pussy. You both laid there, panting and content, the warmth of his body comforting against yours.

After a few moments of blissful silence, you looked at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "I guess the punishment worked, huh?" you teased, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Charles chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "It did, but do something like that again and I just might have to punish you."

Intrigued, you raised your eyebrows and straddled him. "Oh yeah? What would you do?"

"For one..." he trailed off, dragging his fingertips down your body. "I won't let you cum for days," he stated as his fingers made contact with your dripping pussy, making you twitch due to sensitivity.

"Might keep you on edge, touch you, and just when you feel like I'll let you cum, I'll rip it away," he added, his gaze focusing on his fingers pressing into you, pushing his cum back into your pussy.

You rolled your eyes at the sensation and his words, resting your head against his shoulder. "I don't know if I want you to do that or not," you mumbled truthfully. The idea was enticing, but knowing Charles, he would tease you until you lost your mind.

You could feel him chuckle underneath you. "It's entirely up to you."

Placing his fingers underneath your chin, he tilted your face towards him. "Behave, and it won't happen. Act out, and I swear, this was the last orgasm you'll experience for a long, long time."

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