#not excusing his recent actions but I really feel for the kid

[rorydrawsandwrites]

So anyway that was the cutest fucking thing I've seen in my life /ref

[voonroo]

I have an idea! Only do it if you feel comfortable though 🙌🏻 no pressure

Teen reader with Alastor who have this father-daughter bond. Teen reader has never really 'acted out' in a sense. At least not in ways expected of in a sinner. Always had manners, polite, and reserved, yet was always open and honest with Alastor.

Now imagine reader out on the town doing some errands and they overhear a demon talking some nasty crap about Alastor. For the first time, they let their anger get the better of them and get into a fight with the demon. Not without a few cuts and bruises though, poor thing.

Reader not wanting Alastor to get angry or disappointed at them decide that it's best that just this one, they won't mention anything. They'll not tell him this one thing. It won't hurt. He won't know!

Yet it's Alastor. And he always knows. Mainly because they're reading sunglasses inside and trying (failing) to cover up a limp.

Are Ya Winning Child?

⌐‣Alastor & Teen Reader REQ.

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: KSNAKXNSM I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS I AM LIVING FOR THESE REQUESTS. I ACTUALLY HAD TO TAKE BREAKS WRITING THIS TO BREATHE. I WAS GENUINELY TWEAKING LIKE ALASTOR WAS THIS LAST EPISODE WRITING THIS.

Alastor & Teen Reader

You had always been one to hold your tongue and watch your actions. To not act out on rashness. That's how you had always been, even before ending up in hell. You had always been known for your good manners, even as a kid and it's only become more solidified in your character as you grew.

Then why was it so hard to not beat the living shit out of the demon in front of you.

There's no way they didn't know you were connected with the infamous radio demon in some way. Maybe they had seen you and him out and about here recently and knew you two had a connection. People are more courageous than ever to question Alastor’s authority since his 7-year absence.

Maybe the demon is just trying to get a rise out of you. Sinners, who were once people, tend to poke and prod at what they don't understand. “How could some random teenage sinner be so close to the radio demon? Maybe they have a deal? The poor soul probably got tricked…” You've heard it all by now.

But, every time someone said something would be in hushed whispers that were easy to ignore. However, it can be quite hard to ignore some random drunkard spouting lies from his lips. And straight to your face too.

“He’s probably got your ass on a leash doesn't he?” and “Oh! If he's so powerful—” There were a few loud noises, maybe a scream or two.

What…? Oh shit.

The walk back to the hotel was not fun. You really should have just ignored him. Silencing him was not worth the pain you had in your leg and the ache you felt. You're pretty sure you got a black eye too.

By the time you arrive, you have adorned sunglasses on your face come up with an idea as to why you have them, and practiced how to hide your limp until you at least got up the stairs.

By telling those who questioned your weird behavior, “Oh someone was giving out free sunglasses they didn't want anymore so I took one.” and walking past your sorry excuse of trying to hide a limp, you finally made it to your room.

However, you didn't have peace for long until a familiar knock sounded at your door. Quickly throwing back on your sunglasses, you heard Alastor’s static voice through the door.

“I heard you arrived back from town just a few minutes ago!” Oh, he's definitely already on your trail…

You walked- well more so limped, over to the door. Signing in defeat before tossing the sunglasses on your bed.

Fuck it, he probably already knows.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with the radio demon himself. His eyes already shooting up and down your figure. From your leg to your black eye.

“May I come in?” It sounded like more of a command rather than a question. Without much thought, you opened the door wider before going back over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. Staring blankly ahead like a guilty child who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar. There's no point in trying to argue that you're fine when you know Alastor will just keep pestering you until you tell him.

Sitting down next to you, Alastor sat with you in silence for a moment. As if giving you the chance to speak up first, but when you didn't he let out a soft sigh before gently cupping your face, turning your head to look at him.

“What happened.” The average sinner would have been scared shitless at his tone, but you were only mildly frightened. However, there was definitely ill intent behind his smile. He knows you didn't just do this to yourself. You had to have a reason, you don't usually act out of line.

“I got into a fight.” His hand dropped from your face as you spoke, his smile growing wider before he let out a chuckle. His shoulders slightly shaking and his eyes closed in euphoria. His next words were clear when he spoke, looking you in the eyes.

“And did you win?”

“Yeah…?”

Another chuckle left his lips, though, it sounded more like a childish giggle. His hand raised again, landing on your head before ruffling your hair. A proud smile on his face.

“Good.”

Word Count: 735

[ilyrafe]

after seeing so much one direction content these past couple of days, it got me thinking. one direction really was the last boyband to ever happen. no one will ever come close to what they did in only six years. it’s a once in a generation kind of thing to happen. they didn’t even win the x factor and ended up being the show’s biggest act, 14 years later.

yes, they were manufactured, but at the same time, they were the least manufactured band to ever exist in recent times. they didn’t dance, they weren’t actually meant to be a band, they got everything they had because of charisma and talent. these boys were so talented and charismatic. they didn’t really dress the same, they were working class teenagers with a dream and they did it. and it was beautiful.

after seeing their statements, it’s finally downing on me that one direction is really over and i will never see all five of them together again. 11 year old me is absolutely devastated, and so is 24, almost 25 year old me.

the fangirl in me never went anywhere, it turns out. i still have my 1d concert tickets (the only one i went to and zayn was still in the band!), my albums and dvds, books, theater tickets and every once in a while i would take them out of the box and reminisce of the good old days, never thinking i would mourn one of them so soon. i genuinely thought i would be way older when they would go.

i can’t help but feel so sad that liam’s last years were so erratic and horrible. he was hurting deeply and he deeply hurt other people, and there is no excuse for what he did. i mourn what he once was, what he could have been and how it all ended up being. i take maya’s allegations seriously and i encourage you to do the same. what she is going through right now is impossible to imagine.

for those saying they’re glad “an abuser died”, think about what you’re saying. his death helps no one. his victims will never get justice, he will not take accountability for his actions. no one will ever get closure.

for those saying they feel bad for hating or mocking him, you really should. he was called an opportunist for showing up at the boys’ concerts and yet, when harry would do it, everyone loved it.

liam wasn’t perfect, he fucked up a lot, but like anyone, he had the right to, at the very least, apologize. 31 is too young, and no one deserves to go like this.

all i think about is his little son, who will grow up without his dad. no kid should ever lose their parent, especially at such an young age. the fact that he never once exposed his son to the media (like many celebrities do) to protect his privacy tells me that he loved his boy and knew all too well the damage this exposure would cause.

i saw that some 1d songs are trending again, and as much as i would love to take the day to listen to them, it is too soon. i haven’t been able to watch friends since matthew perry died, haven’t been able to watch brooklyn 99 since andre bragher died and will not be able to listen to 1d for a while.

it’s too soon.

call me dramatic, i don’t really care. the most magical part of my adolescence has ended tragically and i am really at a loss.

for those who are conflicted as i am, take your time. it is okay to be sad he’s gone and, at the same time, feel disappointed or even angry. it is okay to mourn and, at the same time, support maya.

edit: i would also like to express my support to his parents, sisters, cheryl, kate and friends.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 Until Dawn males x male reader

Summary: 4 smut scenarios featuring each of the men from Until Dawn. Each scenario exists in its own standalone world, completely unconnected to the others—distinct, isolated, and unforgettable.

Tags: He/Him pronouns used for the reader. Mike Munroe x male reader; Matt Taylor x male reader; Josh Washington x male reader; Chris Hartley x male reader. Set before the events of the game. All of these are separated and not connected. All of these with bottom male reader. Friends to lovers/ established relationships. Smut. Gay smut. Dom Mike Munroe. Gentle dom Matt Taylor. Dom Josh Washington. Submissive Chris Hartley. Pinning. Anal sex. Shower sex. Riding. Blowjob.

Recently reached 300 followers and i wanted to do something special <3

Words counts: 8000 words (around 2000 for each character)

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ ℳ𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ

Cocky and relentless. Teasing that borders on merciless, using his natural charisma to push buttons and see you squirm and blush beneath him. He doesn't stop until he's left you utterly wrecked, trembling and begging for more. He'd enjoy having full control, alternating it with whispered reassurances or moments of tenderness.

Mike Munroe sat in the chair beside you, leaning back with his signature cocky grin plastered across his face, a textbook in front of him that he hadn't opened once since arriving. He had the look of someone who didn't really care about studying, which, frankly, was true. This entire night was a ruse, a flimsy excuse to be alone with you under the pretense of needing help with an exam.

The plan had seemed solid in his head. You'd sit close, explain things to him with that focused, determined look he loved and he'd lean in, let his charm work its magic and, eventually, your studying would devolve into something much less productive.

Mike had always been good at getting what he wanted. A flash of his smile, a sly remark and most people melted. But now, as you sat at the desk flipping through pages and genuinely trying to explain a concept he couldn't care less about, Mike was starting to feel… frustrated.

"You're telling me I have to memorize all this crap by Thursday? Who the hell needs to know about… what even is this—" he glanced down at the page in front of you, squinting as if the words offended him “—polynomial functions for real life? What, am I gonna solve equations at my job interview?"

You sighed, trying to ignore his dark eyes locked onto yours instead of the textbook in front of him. "You signed up for the class, Mike. I didn't force you to take it."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, waving a dismissive hand. "But that's why you're here." He leaned in closer, resting his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand, his face mere inches from yours. "You make it all make sense. You're, like, my personal genius."

Your stomach twisted at the compliment, even though you tried to brush it off. This was just Mike being Mike, wasn't it? He was like this with everyone. Charming, flirtatious, impossible to ignore. You'd seen him in action before: the way he smirked at the girls in class, the playful winks he threw at random people in the cafeteria.

It was just his thing. And yet, being on the receiving end of it made your heart race in a way that was becoming harder to ignore.

"Your 'genius' thinks you should actually start paying attention," you said, nudging the notebook closer to him. "Try solving this one."

Mike groaned dramatically, dragging the notebook toward him like it physically pained him to do so. "You're cute when you're bossy."

"Mike—“

"I'm kidding." He shot you a lopsided grin before glancing at the problem you'd written out. He picked up the pen, twirling it between his fingers as his brow furrowed in mock concentration. "Okay, so, uh… the square root here is… this, right?"

You couldn't help but laugh at how off he was, shaking your head as you leaned over to correct him. The faint scent of his cologne, woodsy with a hint of spice, hit you as you got closer and you froze for a moment, suddenly all too aware of how close you were.

Mike noticed. Of course he noticed. His grin widened and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking from your face to your lips and back again.

You cleared your throat, quickly retreating to your seat. "Focus, Michael."

"I am focusing," he said, his voice warm and husky now, enough to make your pulse race and your breath catch. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of toned stomach. He caught your eyes flicking down and smirked. "On you."

Your face burned and you buried it in the textbook, pretending to reread a section. "Don't you have an exam to pass?"

"Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah," he said, waving his hand lazily. "But it’s hard to concentrate when you're sitting there all cute and stuff."

Your heart stuttered, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes, words stuck in your throat as you kept your focus ahead.

He shifted on the chair, his eyes trailing to your lips as you read aloud from the book. God, you had no idea how good they looked, slightly pursed as you concentrated on the material. He could only think about how soft they would feel against his, how warm they'd be as they moved down his body.

His gaze darkened, drifting lower, watching the way your throat moved as you spoke. He wanted to trace his lips there, feel your pulse against his tongue. The idea made his pants feel uncomfortably tight and he shifted again, trying to will the thoughts away.

The study session continued, with you trying your best to keep things on track despite Mike's constant interruptions. He'd accidentally brush his hand against yours when reaching for a pen, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. He'd lean in close under the guise of needing help, his lips so close to your ear that his breath tickled your skin as he murmured, "Explain that one more time?"

The shift you made brought you closer, your thigh brushing against his and Mike had to work hard not to react.

"Here," you said, pointing to a diagram you'd sketched out earlier. "This is how you get everything right. Got it?"

Mike barely registered your words. He was too busy realizing how he could feel the faint heat of your body. His eyes dropped to your hands as you gestured toward the page, wondering what they'd feel like gripping his shoulders, his hips, his—

"Mike”

"Hmm?" He blinked, forcing himself to meet your gaze.

"Are you sure you're okay? You keep zoning out. You said you needed help with this, right?"

Mike sighed dramatically, flopping back on the bed. "Yeah, yeah, I need help," he muttered, though he wasn't talking about school.

As you leaned forward to grab some papers on the desk, his eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, the way your shirt shifted slightly to reveal just a hint of skin.

It was torture.

Sweet, delicious torture.

"Can we take a break? I feel like I'm not gonna retain any of this if I don't decompress a little."

You glanced at the clock. "We've only been at it for 20 minutes."

"Exactly!" Mike said, his grin widening. "That's, like, more than I've ever studied so far."

You rolled your eyes, doing your best at suppress the warmth rising at his warm gaze in your direction. "Let me at least finish this thing?"

"Alright, fine," he muttered, picking up the book with a theatrical sigh and flipping through it aimlessly. "Keep cracking the whip, Teach."

You smiled faintly and got up to grab another set of notes from your backpack. The second you stood, Mike's eyes trailed down the curve of your back, lingering too long on the way your jeans clung to your butt. He bit his bottom lip, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

Enough was enough.

With a quick sigh, he stood, ego hurt and curiosity piqued. He closed the textbook on your desk with a sharp thud. His lip curled briefly at the sight of the boring equations inside, a momentary flicker of irritation at how they'd monopolized your attention. Then he turned his focus back to you.

When you turned around, annoyed at now being able to find what you were looking for, you froze.

He moved closer until your back pressed against the wall. His chest rose and fell steadily, his lips curving into a soft, almost vulnerable smile.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice was low, the teasing edge stripped away, leaving something raw and earnest.

"Uh… sure?" Your pulse quickened as his hand came up, resting lightly against the wall beside your head. His tall frame radiating heat as he leaned closer to you. His dark eyes bore into yours, not with the usual teasing glint, but with raw, unfiltered emotion that made your heart race.

"Do you like me?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

The question hit you like a punch to the chest. "What?"

"You heard me," Mike said, his tone softening, though the intensity in his gaze didn't waver. "Do you like me? Because, damn it, I can't keep this up anymore. I came here because I wanted to be with you, not to study. I just… I need to know."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you could barely think after hearing the vulnerability in his voice.

"Just tell me the truth," he murmured, his hand lifting to cup your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek and the tenderness of the gesture made your knees weak.

Your throat tightened and you felt heat flooding your face. "Yes, Mike. I like you. A lot."

His grin returned, slow and breathtaking, as though your words were the only answer he'd ever wanted. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."

He closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It was hungry, raw, as though he'd been starving for this moment. His hands found your waist, pulling you forward until you were pressed tightly against him as his tongue pushed into your mouth, exploring with urgency.

You gripped his shoulders instinctively, your fingers digging into the firm muscle as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. "Fuck, I've been wanting this for so long. You have no idea."

He bent down abruptly, his arms sliding under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. You gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist. Mike's lips moved to your neck, kissing and nipping as he trailed down to your collarbone. His light stubble scratched your skin, a delicious friction that left you squirming in his hold. He sucked a mark just above your collarbone, his tongue soothing the sting before he moved up to your jaw, his breath hot against your cheek.

"You taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice a husky growl.

His lips found yours again, the kiss deeper this time, his tongue delving into your mouth as though he couldn't get enough. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he ground his hips against you. You could feel his hardness through his jeans, pressing insistently against you and making you ache with need.

With a grunt, Mike turned and carried you to the bed, laying you down carefully before crawling on top of you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, his sturdy frame caging you in as his lips found your neck again. His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mix of reverence and urgency.

You moaned softly as his teeth grazed your neck, his tongue soothing the sensitive skin before his lips claimed yours again. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it off in one swift motion before discarding his own. His bare chest pressed against yours, the heat of his skin making you gasp as his lips continued their assault on your neck.

Mike's hands moved lower, unfastening your pants with a speed that made your head spin. He slid them down along with your underwear, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you fully bare beneath him.

His fingers found their way between your legs, teasing you as he leaned down to kiss you again. His other hand wrapped around your length, stroking you with firm, steady movements that made your hips buck into his hand.

"You like that?" he asked, his grin wicked as he watched your reaction. "I want to hear you, baby. Don't hold back."

He worked you with expert precision, his mouth returning to your neck to suck another mark. He was relentless, his fingers slipping lower to tease your entrance, his voice low and commanding.

"Relax for me," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

His fingers moving in and out with practiced ease as he murmured praises against your skin. His other hand continued stroking you, his thumb teasing your tip in a way that had you writhing beneath him.

"God, you're so tight," he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. "I can't wait to feel you around me."

When he finally replaced his fingers with the hot, throbbing weight of his cock, the stretch was overwhelming. You hissed, your hands gripping his shoulders as he sank into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against yours.

Mike’s lips didn't stop their assault on your neck, alternating between wet, searing kisses and the light scrape of his teeth that left trails of fire in their wake. Each movement of his hips pressed his thick, throbbing length deeper against you, and the friction was maddening.

"Fuck," he whispered, "You feel so good. So fucking good."

His restraint snapped, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he fucked you deeply, his groans mixing with your moans in the heated air.

His pace quickened, his thrusts hitting deeper as he angled his hips just right. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as pleasure overwhelmed you.

"That's it," he growled. "Let me hear you."

You couldn't hold back, your moans growing louder as he pushed you closer to the edge. His hand slipped between your bodies, stroking you in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me," he whispered, his voice strained.

His words sent you over the edge, your climax hitting you as you cried out his name. The way your body clenched around him pushed him over the edge, his thrusts growing erratic as he spilled inside you with a deep groan.

He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close. "Worth every second," he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

ℳ𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒯𝒶𝓎𝓁ℴ𝓇

He would seek constant reassurance as he takes tentative steps. However, once he gains confidence, he becomes surprisingly assertive. He'd focus entirely on your pleasure. His athleticism would lend itself to strength and stamina, ensuring you're worshiped and cherished. He would revel in making you feel safe yet utterly overwhelmed by the raw power of his passion, glowing with pride every time he draws out a moan or gasp.

The campus was alive with the lazy hum of an afternoon sun. Matt Taylor was out on the field, his athletic frame in constant motion as he jogged the perimeter.

The way his shirt clung to him, damp and snug from exertion, only highlighted the strength in his broad shoulders and the subtle definition of his chest. It clung stubbornly to his abs, outlining the defined ridges of his stomach. Every muscle in his body seemed to work in perfect harmony as he moved.

The sweat glistening on his caramel skin only made him look more enticing.

He stopped after a lap, bending slightly to catch his breath, hands resting on his thighs. The sight was enough to steal yours.

There were moments when his head would turn, his dark, warm eyes flicking in your direction. He always seemed aware of your presence, like you were a natural part of his environment. The way you looked at him was as essential as the air he breathed.

He'd catch your gaze just for a second, his lips quivering into a smile. It was like he knew you were watching and wanted to remind you that he saw you, too.

With a deep breath, Matt straightened, one hand pushing his damp shirt away from his torso, exposing the hard lines of his stomach. Wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a calm, unhurried precision.

Matt tilted his head just slightly, as if gauging your reaction. Then, without missing a beat, he pressed his hand to his lips and blew a kiss in your direction.

Your heart stuttered, the sheer casualness of it leaving you stunned.

He turned toward the bench at the edge of the field, where his water bottle rested and took a moment to hydrate. He poured some of the cool water over his head, letting it cascade down his face and neck before trailing over his chest. The droplets caught in the sunlight, gleaming as they traced the curve of his shoulders and the hard ridges of his collarbone. His free hand dragged across his jaw, wiping the excess water away in a move that was as unintentional as it was captivating.

The others called out to him, ready to start another round of drills and he responded with an easy wave. As he jogged back to join them, he passed by where you sat.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and warm, tinged with the kind of softness he reserved for moments like this. He leaned down, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "I was trying out some new moves. Gotta know if they're, you know, impressive enough." His tone was light and teasing, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, like he genuinely cared what you thought.

"They're impressive," you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

His smile softened and for a moment, he looked almost shy. "Thanks," he said, straightening up and running a hand through his short, damp hair.

You watched as he jogged back to his friends, the muscles in his legs flexing with every step. He jumped right back into the game, throwing himself into it with renewed energy. He made daring plays, diving for the ball in ways that sent his friends laughing and clapping him on the back. He'd glance your way after every particularly bold move, his smile growing brighter each time he saw you watching, eager to impress you.

The dim lighting of the locker room cast soft shadows over Matt's glistening body as he leaned against the lockers, phone in hand, his voice warm and playful. His towel hung loosely around his neck and his shirt was long forgotten, leaving his torso on full display. Every inch of him radiated heat.

The room was quiet now, save for the distant echo of running water in the pipes and the soft shuffle of Matt's footsteps as he paced near the benches.

"Yeah, I'm still here," he chuckled into the phone, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing affection as he talked with you. "No rush, though. No one else is around."

He glanced at the screen, his smile softening before he made up his mind on what to do next.

"Want to hang out? We can talk later after I'm done here, if you want?" He murmured, voice low with a sweet and earnest tone.

"Turn around," you said.

Matt froze for a moment, processing your voice now coming from behind him. He spun on his heel, his eyes widening as they landed on you standing just inside the locker room door. A surprised laugh escaped him and he hung up the call, sliding his phone into the pocket of his gym bag.

"You're here," he said, his grin growing wider. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and shyness as he took a hesitant step forward.

"I wanted to surprise you," you replied, your voice soft but steady.

He moved closer, the heat of his body palpable even from a few feet away. The faint sheen of sweat making every curve of his muscles stand out.

"Let me—uh—just a sec," Matt stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he closed the distance between you. He was so careful, leaning in slowly as though worried he'd overwhelm you. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, the saltiness of his sweat mingling with the sweetness of his breath.

"You don't mind the, uh…" He gestured to himself, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Not at all," you murmured, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, his mouth moving against yours with a mix of gentle passion and restrained hunger. One arm looped around your waist while his big hand cradled the back of your head. His hands found your hips, his touch firm but tender.

He broke the kiss only to glance over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the empty locker room. Once satisfied you were alone, he turned back to you, his expression soft but smoldering.

"Shower's right there," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Think we could, uh… clean up together?"

The corner of his mouth twitched in a nervous smile, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable.

You didn't answer with words, letting your lips find his again instead, this time with more urgency as he backed behind with you caged in his arms.

The shower stalls were humid and warm, steam curling in the air as Matt turned on the water, letting it cascade down his back. He stood under the stream for a moment, his head tilted back, droplets running over his shoulders and down his chest, washing away the sweat that clung to him.

He turned to you, his expression soft but filled with intent. "Come here," he whispered, holding out a hand.

You stepped into the stall, the warm spray hitting your now naked skin as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. His lips found yours again, deeper this time, his hands exploring your back, your sides, the curve of your hips. His touch was firm but gentle, every movement infused with the kind of care that made your chest ache.

His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly to press you against the cool tile wall. The contrast of temperatures sent a shiver through you, but Matt's body pressed against yours was a furnace, his heat keeping you grounded.

The water ran between you, slicking your skin as his kisses trailed down your neck, his lips warm and soft against your wet skin. His breath was hot, mouth lingering over every inch of you like he couldn't get enough.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, water dripping from his hair and into your eyes.

Hands broad and rough from years of training roamed your body with deliberate care. He started at your waist, his thumbs grazing your hips, then slid them down to cup your thighs, pulling you closer until every inch of him was flush against you.

His lips moved down the side of your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses that lingered, his tongue flicking out to taste the droplets sliding down your skin. "You feel so damn good." Matt murmured, his voice thick with need.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip before his tongue pushed into your mouth. His hands drifted lower, gripping your ass firmly as he hoisted you up, pressing you against the cold tile wall.

His hips pressed into yours and you felt the unmistakable hardness between his legs, the weight of him grinding slowly.

"Matt," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat as his lips found your collarbone, then moved lower, trailing down your chest. He paused at your nipple, his mouth closing around it, his tongue swirling as his teeth grazed just enough to make you arch into him.

The water streamed down his back as he continued his descent, his tongue and lips mapping a path across your stomach, his hands gripping your hips tightly, anchoring you. He looked up at you as he knelt, his eyes filled with a hunger that made your knees weak.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching as he kissed along your thighs, his mouth hot against your damp skin. His fingers traced delicate patterns, teasing you, making you ache for more. He submits his mouth to take on your length, his tongue flicking out to taste you, slow and deliberate as he traced every vein and ridge.

The sensation of his mouth on you was almost too much. Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you arched up against him.

His hands gently rested on your soft, supple ass. He circled the hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle. Your head tilting up as the finger went in deeper before adding in another finger.

When you were trembling beneath his touch, Matt stood again, pulling you into another searing kiss. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you easily as he aligned himself with you. The anticipation was overwhelming, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me if I'm too much. I don't want to hurt you."

His sweetness melted into raw passion as he slowly pushed inside, stretching you in a way that made your breath catch. The pressure was intense, the fullness almost too much, but Matt paused, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured against your skin.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice strained, his restraint obvious as he let you adjust.

When you nodded, giving him the okay, he began to move. His thrusts were slow at first, measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he found a rhythm, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the small, steamy space.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he buried himself deeper.

His pace quickened, his control slipping with each thrust, his eyes watching you intensively, filled with unspoken adoration and need.

Matt's hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations were overwhelming, your body tightening around him as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

"Come for me. I want to feel you," Matt whispered, voice a mix of command and plea.

His words pushed you over the edge, your climax ripping through you with an intensity that left you shaking, your cries muffled against his shoulder. The way your body clenched around him sent him spiraling, his thrusts becoming erratic as he groaned your name, his release spilling inside of you hot, heavy and overwhelming.

He held you there, both of you trembling as the water continued to pour over your exhausted bodies, his breath ragged but his smile soft.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse but filled with tenderness.

You nodded, your fingers threading through his damp hair as you pulled him into a soft, lingering kiss. "More than okay."

And with that, Matt grinned affectionately before wrapping you in his arms, his warmth and love enveloping you completely.

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 𝒲𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓉ℴ𝓃

He would be almost hypnotic. His hands firm, guiding you like a puppeteer while he watches every reaction with piercing eyes. Touch that alternate between rough and tender. He'd seek absolute surrender, his lips tracing feverish paths across your skin as he demands every gasp, every shiver, until you're completely undone.

The basement was dimly lit, a warm glow from the single overhead bulb casting shadows over the eclectic collection of items Josh's family had accumulated over the years. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with dusty film reels, old cameras and props from Josh's endless experiments in cinematography. You trailed behind him as he rifled through a box, muttering under his breath about where he'd left the camera he needed.

"You've got enough stuff down here to make a whole trilogy,” you spoke amazed, picking up a fake severed hand from one of the nearby tables. "Let me guess, this was for some horror project?"

Josh turned, his smirk lighting up his face even in the shadows. "Oh, that? Nah, that was just Halloween last year. Dad thought it'd be funny to have it sticking out of the candy bowl." He rummaged through a nearby crate, pulling out a few props from old projects like the fake blood packets and a weathered script.

You laughed, shaking your head as you placed it back on the table. Josh returned to rummaging through his box of supplies and your attention wandered to a nearby shelf where a cracked clown mask hung ominously. This place is like a treasure trove, a mix of fascinating and unsettling, much like Josh himself. His mind always worked a mile a minute, brimming with ideas that danced somewhere between genius and chaos.

"Found it!" Josh declared, holding up a vintage film camera triumphantly. "This baby's gonna make my project an A+ for sure."

"Finally," you teased, crossing your arms. "I thought we'd be down here forever."

Josh's grin widened, that familiar mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. "Oh, don't tell me you're scared of basements."

"I'm not scared of this place," you replied, rolling your eyes while turning around to see again a cool looking mask that you wanted to try out.

"No?" he asked, his tone mock-innocent as he casually reached for something behind him.

When you turned around to face your boyfriend again, your eyes were met with a mask that resembles a skull-like style with a pair of thin black eyebrows, a cracked nose and rotten styled teeth. The dim light casting eerie shadows across the distorted features.

He lunged at you with a guttural growl, arms outstretched. Startled, you yelped involuntarily, stumbling back a step as he grabbed you with exaggerated ferocity. He gripped tightly your waist and hoisted you effortlessly onto a nearby table, pinning you in place.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed, pulling the mask off to reveal his gleeful grin.

"You absolute jerk!" you gasped, swatting at his chest with your right hand in frustration.

Josh laughed, his deep, warm chuckle echoing through the basement. "You should've seen your face! Priceless."

"You're the worst," you muttered, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed how flustered you were.

"Oh, come on," he said, leaning closer. His hands rested on either side of your hips, trapping you. "You're even more handsome when you're scared. Seriously, it's not fair."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, "Let me make it up to you for my genius prank." He concluded the line with a kiss to your neck, his lips warm and insistent against your skin.

"Trust me," he whispered, his voice low and rough, his hands sliding up your sides as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Your breath hitched, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. His fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pushing it up to expose more skin, his lips following the path his hands carved.

"We’ve done it not even an hour ago," you murmured, your voice trembling as he nipped lightly at your shoulder.

Josh chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Perfect then! Means that you’re ready for me," he admitted, pressing his lips to yours into a kiss that was equal parts sweet and consuming. His hands roamed your body with a mix of confidence and care, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake.

He broke the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. "You look good," he said simply, his voice tinged with awe.

"Stop being sappy," you teased, though your heart raced at his words.

Josh grinned, his hands sliding to your waistband. "Fine, I'll focus on other things"

He made quick work of your pants, his lips finding yours again as he pressed you back against the table. The feel of his body against yours, the weight of him grounding you, sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and intimate.

"You," you replied without hesitation, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

Josh groaned softly, his fingers tightened on your thighs, his thumbs stroking the bare skin just above your knees as he stepped closer, pressing himself against you. His lips trailed along your jawline, soft and teasing at first, but the heat in his movements grew with each passing second.

He tilted your head slightly, exposing more of your neck and pressing his lips there, warm and insistent.

Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue following in a slow, deliberate sweep that left you shivering. His hands roamed upward, fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt before tugging it over your head in one swift motion.

"God," he breathed, pulling back just enough to take you in. His eyes were dark, predatory. "You're fucking amazing."

"You don't look so bad yourself," you managed, your voice shaky but laced with a teasing edge.

Josh smirked, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, there was no pretense of restraint. His tongue slid against yours, the kiss messy and consuming as his hands pulled you closer until there wasn't an inch of space between you.

Your hands found their way to his shirt, pushing it up over his torso. He broke the kiss just long enough to yank it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor before returning his lips to yours. The heat of his bare chest against yours sent a thrill through you, his skin warm and slightly damp as your hands explored the defined lines of his back.

Josh's hips rolled against yours and you felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. Your own erection makes your pants feel painfully tight. He groaned softly, his breath hot against your neck as he ground into you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You're driving me crazy," he admitted, his voice rough as his hands slid to the waistband of your pants. He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours. "Can I…?"

"Yes," you said quickly, the word barely more than a whisper.

He grinned, his usual cocky demeanor softened by the flush in his cheeks, and tugged your pants down, his hands deliberate and firm. You kicked them off, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leaned back to admire you.

"You're perfect," Josh said, his voice husky as his fingers traced along your thighs, his touch featherlight but electrifying.

You reached for him, pulling him closer until his body was pressed fully against yours. The feel of him, hard and eager, against your own growing arousal made you gasp. Josh took the opportunity to kiss you again, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, lifting you slightly as he aligned himself with you.

"Ready?" he asked, his hands voice soft but filled with intensity.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as he positioned himself. The stretch as he pushed inside was slow and deliberate, his movements measured as he let you adjust to the fullness.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he buried himself completely.

The words sent a shiver through you, your hands tightening on his shoulders as you urged him to move. Josh pulled back slightly, his hips rocking forward again in a slow, steady rhythm that left you breathless.

He found a pace that was both gentle and intense, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one drawing soft moans from your lips. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he pressed kisses to your neck, your jaw, your lips.

Your own voice trembling as the pleasure built with each movement.

Josh's pace quickened, his control slipping as his need for you overwhelmed him. The table beneath you creaked with each thrust, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the way he filled you, the way his body moved against yours like you were made for each other.

Your climax hit suddenly, a wave of pleasure crashing over you and leaving you trembling in his arms. You cried out his name, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body clenched around him.

Josh wasn't far behind. His thrusts grew erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself as deep as he could, groaning your name as he spilled into you. The warmth of his release sent another shiver through you, the sensation leaving you breathless.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the table, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high. Josh pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands trailing soothing patterns on your back.

"Am i forgiven now?" he asked, his voice hoarse but laced with his usual humor.

You laughed softly, nuzzling into his neck. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Josh grinned, his arms tightening around you as he rested his forehead against yours. "Good. Because I'm not done yet."

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓎

Hesitant, nervous chuckles and self-deprecating jokes peppering the atmosphere before his passion takes over. He's the type to fumble slightly, then find his rhythm as he becomes more confident. He'd moan sweetly, almost embarrassed by how lost he becomes in you, whispering heartfelt praise and words that reflect just how irresistible he finds you.

The game's victory screen flashed across the TV, the sound of triumphant chiptunes filling the room. Both you and Chris collapsed onto the bed in an exhausted heap, the adrenaline of finally beating your highest score leaving you giddy. His laughter bubbled up first, that unmistakable mix of relief and joy that only he could manage and you couldn't help but join in.

"We actually did it," Chris said, breathless as he flopped onto his back, one arm draped lazily across his forehead. "I thought we were doomed when you missed that jump in the third level."

"Excuse me, you're the one who forgot to grab the power-up right before the boss fight." You shot back, turning your head to face him.

Chris groaned, dramatically rolling onto his side to look at you. His glasses were slightly askew and his hair was sticking up in every direction, but he looked so completely relaxed and at ease in that moment that it made your chest ache in the best way. "Okay, okay, my bad. But you have to admit I nailed that final combo."

You snorted, nudging his shoulder with yours. "Yeah, sure. But only because I carried us through the rest of the game."

His jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Carried us? You died twice in the first round, man!"

“And who revived you at the end?" you shot back, smirking.

Chris opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his grin widening as he broke into laughter. "Alright, alright. You're not entirely useless. We're gaming legends now! They're gonna put our names in the Hall of Fame or something."

"Right next to the guy who discovered cheat codes for unlimited lives," you quipped.

"Exactly," he said, grinning as his blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "We're pioneers of our time."

The two of you laid there, the laughter slowly fading into a comfortable silence. The faint glow of the TV bathed the room in soft light, illuminating the faint curve of his smile as he gazed up at the ceiling. His arm was still close to yours, his fingers just brushing against your skin in a way that felt deliberate but unspoken.

"It was fun," Chris said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

"Yeah," you agreed, your own tone softer. "I don't think I've laughed this much in a while."

He turned his head to look at you, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. "From now on you'll be my good luck charm."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You just needed someone to keep you focused. You do get distracted a lot."

Chris groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Don't remind me. I'm like a dog chasing squirrels. Oh look, shiny object—game over."

You both laughed again, the sound soft and intimate in the late-night stillness. When it faded, you found him watching you, his blue eyes catching the flicker of light from the TV.

"What?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but his grin gave him away. "You're a lot of fun to hang out with, you know that? Like, even when you're roasting me."

"Glad to be of service," you teased, your own grin mirroring his.

His gaze lingered a little longer than usual, his expression shifting slightly. "No, but seriously. I mean it. You're, uh… you're really great."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

"Thanks," you said softly. "You're pretty great too, Chris."

He smiled, a little shyly this time, and turned onto his side fully, propping his head up on one hand. "Have you ever thought about how weird life is? Like, one day you're just doing your usual things, then Sam one day shows up with someone like you and suddenly everything's a million times better. Boom. Butterfly effect."

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to be romantic at two in the morning? Because I think the lack of sleep is getting to you."

"Hey, don't ruin my moment!" he protested, but his laughter undercut his words.

You laughed too, the sound mingling with his as the moment stretched on.

You sat up on the bed and then crawled toward your destination, the TV's glow fading as you turned it off. When you turned back to the bed, Chris was sprawled out like a contented cat, his arms spread wide, his legs slightly apart. His glasses were back into their original place at the top of his nose.

"You just gonna stare, or are you gonna accept my invitation?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion.

You laughed, shaking your head, but the way his smile widened when you leaned closer told you that you weren't fooling him for a second. You crawled onto the bed, resting against his side as he let his arm fall lazily around your waist.

"Happy now?" you asked, pressing a quick kiss to his left cheek.

"Getting there," he said, voice soft and a little breathless

You didn't stop, peppering more kisses along his cheek and down to his jaw, light scratches from his stubble against your lips. Your hand wandered lower, brushing over his stomach, then down to his pants, where you felt the beginnings of his growing arousal.

Chris chuckled, the sound nervous but filled with anticipation. His free hand moved to your back, pulling you closer as his breath hitched. "Wow, okay, uh… Someone's feeling bold tonight," he murmured, though his grin betrayed how much he was enjoying it.

"Aren't we supposed to be basking in our gaming glory?"

You squeezed him gently through the fabric, feeling him harden further under your touch. "Should I stop, then?" you teased, feigning innocence as your fingers lingered.

"Nope!" he blurted out quickly, his voice cracking slightly as his head shot up. His face was flushed, but his lips found yours in a soft, insistent kiss, his usual shyness tempered by a growing determination.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours as his hand slid under your shirt, his fingers warm and exploratory against your skin. You shifted, straddling his lap, and he let out a quiet groan as your weight pressed down on him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you slightly as he rolled his hips up, creating delicious friction that left you both breathless.

"God, you're… You're really good at this," Chris muttered, his lips trailing down your neck, each kiss accompanied by a soft hum of approval.

"You sound surprised," you teased, grinding against him again just to hear the way his breath caught.

He laughed softly, though it quickly turned into a low groan. "No, no, I mean—I just—" He stopped, shaking his head as if words were failing him entirely. "Never mind. Keep doing that… please?"

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, your hands slipping under his shirt to explore the warm expanse of his chest. He was lean but toned, his body radiating heat as your fingers traced over him, eliciting small, breathy noises that only spurred you on.

Chris's hands slid to the waistband of his pants, fumbling slightly as he worked them down. "Help me out here," he said with a nervous laugh, his cheeks red but his smile never wavering.

You helped him and he helped you out, the two of you working together to peel away the layers until you were completely bare. Him beneath you with your naked body on top of his. His erection stood proud, flushed and eager and the sight of him vulnerable yet so clearly aroused made your own desire burn hotter.

"You're handsome, you know that?" you said softly, running your hands over his thighs as you sat back to take him in.

Chris laughed, covering his face with one hand. "Oh my God, don't say stuff like that. I'll die."

"Too bad. I’ll say it, whether you like it or not," you teased, leaning down to kiss him again.

His response was a muffled laugh against your lips, but it melted into a moan as you reached down to guide him to your entrance. He gripped your hips tightly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation and when you nodded, he let out a shaky breath.

"Okay," he said, his voice soft but steady. "Okay, just—take your time."

You did, slowly sinking onto him, the stretch intense but achingly good. Chris's grip on your hips tightened, his head falling back against the pillow as a low groan escaped him.

"Holy shit," he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he held you steady. "God, you feel amazing."

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you began to move, your body adjusting to the rhythm as you found a steady pace. Chris's eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted as he sat up from his previous laid position. His hands were guiding your movements but never pushing, always letting you set the pace.

"Is this— shit, is this okay?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as his hips bucked up involuntarily.

"it's perfect," you murmured, leaning down to kiss him. "You're perfect."

His laugh was breathless, almost disbelieving, but he met your kiss with fervor, his tongue tangling with yours as his hands explored your body. The soft gasps he made, whispered curses, your name falling from his lips like a prayer… it all drove you closer to the edge with every thrust.

Chris's movements became more erratic, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency. "I'm—oh God, I don't think I'm gonna last," he admitted, his voice high and strained

"Don't hold back," you said, your own voice trembling as your climax built.

With a choked groan, Chris buried himself as deep as he could and tightened his arm around your body, his release hitting him in waves that left him trembling beneath you. The feeling of him filling you, combined with the look of utter ecstasy on his face, sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you as you collapsed onto his chest.

For a moment, the two of you stayed in that position, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high. Chris's arms pulled you close as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

"Best. Night. Ever," he murmured, his voice warm and content.

"Agreed," you said, your own smile matching his as you nuzzled against him.

If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3. Let me know if you had a favorite one out of this four fine men ;)

[bostoncreamdonut]

“Disliking Caitlyn but not Silco is just misogyny.”

LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER!!!

Let me preface this by saying that I don’t care if people like Caitlyn. You can like characters who have done wrong— hell, my favorite is, in fact, Silco. There’s nothing wrong with that. Second, just because a character is well-written doesn’t mean people have to like them. I think Silco is amazingly written, and I like him, but I also acknowledge his wrongdoings and don’t deny the harm he caused. The same goes for Jinx. So, why don’t I like Caitlyn?

Because Silco and Jinx are a byproduct of their environment. The result of systematic oppression, neglect, and inequality at the hands of Piltover. They cracked, and we can understand why and how someone could break in that environment. How they could turn to aggression after living like that their entire lives. Piltover is safe, clean, and livable at their expense. People aren’t living in Zaun, they are surviving.

Caitlyn didn’t have it nearly as bad to justify her actions. Yes, losing her mother was horrible, but that doesn’t excuse how quickly she turned on Zaun. One Zaunite killed her mother (edit: amongst other things that she experienced, but I believe her mom’s death was what ultimately dictated her decisions in S2), and suddenly, she’s making a group suffer for it, including Vi. Can you imagine how many kids in Zaun have been orphaned because of the toxic environment and oppression they face every day? Caitlyn’s reaction is so drastic, especially considering her experience mirrors the harsh realities that Zaunites are forced to endure all the time.

This is also why I dislike CaitVi when I think about it for more than a second, to be honest.

Also, people do NOT have to explain why they dislike characters/ships.

(I’m just in a yappy mood.)

Sometimes it’s just a feeling, maybe personal bias, maybe they just don’t care to explain, etc. That’s okay.

You will live if people dislike your favs, I promise. [pats back]

Do I writhe on the ground when I see Silco hate? Maybe… Can I accept others hate him? Yeah! (In his case, I don’t even need to ask why.)

Let me know if you think I missed any crucial points or made a mistake! My memory is not the best but I have rewatched recently so I hope it served me well today. Honestly, I don’t want to upset people, this has just been bothering me for a while. I really dislike some Caitlyn stans’ reactions to criticism of her.

Okay, I think I’m done. See ya!

[ak-fantasies]

Not Worth It

Yunho Imagine

Pairing: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: you should have known better than to give all of you 

You stood afar seeing Yunho sitting across from his best “girl” friend. They had been friends since childhood and it wasn’t until you realized that she was his first love. Yunho's smile for her was the same he used to have for you. You first saw Yunho a few years ago at one of your father’s company’s gala and it wasn’t until you got to your college when you started to meet him in each of your classes. You would’ve never really given him a chance if it weren’t for the way he would chase after you. You never really believed in love because of your family. Your father always had mistresses while your mother passed away. Your mother always talked about how much love hurts and to never trust anyone. You held onto that, never really giving anyone a chance. Yunho chased you relentlessly, slowly wearing down your walls. Eventually, you agreed to date him, giving him the ultimatum that if he ever betrayed your love, you would disappear from his life completely. He promised and that's where your relationship begins. Your relationship was good, the happy memories filled your heart. Until Yuri came back. You found out through his friends that Yunho had been in love with Yuri since they were kids. Even though you knew, you pretended to ignore his friends’ comments about being a placeholder, because Yunho constantly showed you that he would always come to you whenever you need. That is until recently. 

Nowadays Yunho doesn’t come running to you anymore. When you called, it was always “I’m busy”, “I have classes”, “the boys wanted to hang out”, and excuse after excuses. But you would find him every time he made those excuses with Yuri. You gave everything you had and yet the promises he made doesn’t mean anything anymore. 

“If you wanted to be with her, why did you even chase me?” You asked yourself staring at Yunho who was laughing at something Yuri had said. He reaching over to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ears. The way he caressed her face made it so intimate, you could feel your chest tighten. Funny how he used to beg for you to stay and be with him. Now you were leaving him. He was hurting you when he promised to. Can you forgive him if he begged again? It wasn’t worth it. He had already hurt you. You walked away, ready to transfer to another college in another country. You had stopped your father from moving you abroad because of Yunho, but now you didn’t have anything stopping you. 

“Father… I’m prepared to move abroad.” You called and the surprised in his voice when he asked if you were really sure. Before your relationship was something that you didn’t want to abandon, but now that you were already left behind nothing was worth staying for. Your father also having the guilt from his past actions wanted to respect your choices.

“Darling… are you sure? Once you leave, it’ll be a long few years before you come back…” 

“Yes… I’ve been thinking about how I should start taking my position as your daughter and learn how to take over the family business.” You said.

“Okay then…” Your father replied, a little hesitation in his voice. “I’l prepare everything.” 

Now that your plans were settled, you just have to leave Yunho. Arriving back at your apartment, you laid on your bed finally being able to let the tears you held in, flow down your face. You wished everything you gave to Yunho could be taken back. You thought that all the love you gave him was all he needed. Now he doesn’t even consider how you feel. You were hurting a lot inside. Never again would you let your guard down again. 

The next few weeks, you were settling any affairs you had before leaving, getting your passport and your credit transfer. Every time Yunho called, you stopped answering, never giving him a chance to talk to you. 

When you had finished your talk with the admins of your school you decided to grab a coffee before heading to your father’s company for a brief overview of the next few years. At the coffee shop, you took a seat by the window, looking at your phone. 

“(Y/n)?” A voice spoke, making you look up from your phone to see who the owner was.

“Oh, Seonghwa!” You said, giving him a smile, gesturing at the empty seat in front of you. He shook his head, politely declining.

“I’m only here for a quick coffee.” He explained and you smiled.

“Me too… About to head to the company afterwards.” You said and he looked a little surprised. He then decide to sit down to talk more about what you just said.

“So, does that mean you’re planning to go….” Seonghwa’s voice trails off as someone grabbed your wrist. You already knew who it belongs to. 

“You’ve been ignoring my calls….” Yunho said, ignoring Seonghwa’s presence. You sighed and looked at Yunho.

“Sorry… I’ve been busy with class work.” You said, making an excuse. Yunho’s eyes soften just a little. 

“I’m sorry that I’ve been neglectful these days.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.. It’s just Yuri is preparing to leave abroad again.” Yunho said and it really made you aware, you were nothing but a placeholder for her. 

“It’s okay.. I understand. You two are friends from childhood..” You said, before your name was called. You excused yourself to go grab the drink. When you returned, Seonghwa had long left and Yunho remained in the seat that was previously occupied. 

“Are you planning on staying here?” You asked, putting your phone into your bag. 

“Yeah.. Yuri wanted some coffee, so I came to grab her some.” He said, nonchalantly looking at his phone. A smiled slowly making it ways on his face, making you assume he is texting her. You should’ve known, the Yunho who doesn’t really drink coffee being in your favorite coffee shop. You took a sip of your latte before putting your keys into your bag and preparing to leave.

“You’re not… staying?” Yunho asked, finally looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, my father needs me to grab some stuff for him.” You said before picking up your bag and putting the strap on your shoulder.

“Do you need me to drop you off?” Yunho asked and you shocked your head.

“It’s okay Yunho.. Coffee is best cranked hot, so you should hurry to Yuri..” You said. He stood up and pulled you into a hug. You hugged back to make sure he isn’t suspicious of anything.

“I’ll pick you up later..” Yunho said and you nodded, knowing he wouldn’t come. 

You left the coffee shop, heart still feeling heavy. You took a deep breath before heading to the company to finalize the move. 

“(Y/n).. Your flight is tomorrow. Did you do everything you needed?” Your father asked and you nodded. 

“Yes father.” You responded. Tomorrow you were going to disappear from Yunho’s life. 

When tomorrow came, you sent an email out to your professors, thanking them for allowing you to participate in their research. You then gave your phone to your new personal assistant, Hongjoong. 

“Reset the phone and remove the SIM card. When we get to our destination, find a new SIM card immediately.” You said. You put on your sunglasses and a mask before walking to your gate. 

‘Goodbye, Yunho. Thank you for all the happy moments and for giving me a taste of love. Live life happily, ' you thought before getting on the plane. Goodbye to the you who loved Yunho. 

[mini-golden]

I've been mulling over the Labyrinth arc specifically the questers decision to allow Boris to come, with it being brought up again with Felix trying to adopt Boris. Little disclaimer I have not reread the Labyrinth arc so I will probably miss out on a couple details here.

A question that I really been trying to wrack my brain around is "what could they have done for Boris". I remember when the labyrinth arc was happening I was so mad at the questers for the way that they were treating Boris. Especially as a teenager myself (14-15 at the time so literally the same age as Boris). But now that I think about it I really do want to know what the questers could have done because I feel like no matter that choice Boris would have gone anyway.

At this point Boris had recently run away when he was told that he could not be apart of saving his brother, right. So he has already demonstrated that he can and will put himself and others in danger to be with Bendy. I know some people said that he should have stayed back with the circus crew and I believe the circus crew would have definitely tried their best but ultimately we have to remember that he's a street kid, he knows how to get around adults, I don't think that they could have truly stopped him from going if he wanted to. Again he has already demonstrated that he will pick bendy over everyone else no matter how close you are to him. To Boris it's truly always been him and Bendy against the world, he's already burnt bridges with the relationships he built up. He now has a rocky relationship with the adult figures that he trusted, he thinks they should despise him.

Now I want to make clear that I am absolutely not excusing the clear adultification that a lot of the characters do to Boris specifically in this arc. It still really pisses me off, he is an emotional 14 year old boy of course he did the terrible things that he did, his frontal lobe isn't developed he can't think his actions through as well as the adults around him can. Specifically looking at you Michael Bradley I know your traumatised but wtf that is a child. Kinda excluding Cuphead though, he was a real one with how he acted with this.

Coming back to Felix here. I think Felix should have really honed in on the decision that they made by bringing Boris along. Felix should have sat Boris down and really had a talk to him with how dangerous it was going to be. Obviously we know that the questers did not expect how truly dangerous it would be but Felix has already done extremely dangerous stuff before so I think he definitely could have better prepared Boris for what they were going into. With what I mentioned in the paragraph above though I think I can really see why Felix made the decision he did. He already told Boris no and it ended with him being severely hurt emotionally and being cursed physically. And we can see in Felix' POV how deeply that scared Felix. Although I really do wish that he sat Boris down and truly told him how he felt about Boris running away and how he only wants to protect Boris. Really try to make him see how much he cares for him and try and build up that trust again.

Honestly so much of this stuff that happens really they could have been resolved if these idiots would just talk to each other, the miscommunication in this series istg :').

Ultimately I don't think that there was a "right" or "correct" choice that would have ended in Boris being safe from the record. There were definitely things that characters could have handled a lot better but truly none of them could have been prepared for how messed up the Labyrinth really turned out to be. Also could the questers have even gotten the record without Boris? I feel like Boris was needed for the record I truly don't know how they would have gotten the record otherwise with how hard it was for Boris to get it.

I really wish I wrote down my opinions and feelings at the time to how I feel about the arc now that I'm an adult, because of how close in age to Boris I was so I could truly relate to some of the feelings he was feeling with the adults around them. And now as an adult I can see more why the adults around him made the decisions they made.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Have a Cow

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are finding your stride until a surprise shows up on the porch

Word count: 2,750

Content/warnings: Light mob themes, farming, kissing, lap sitting, fluffy fluff

Author’s Note: It’s been a minute! Hopefully this kickstarts me to get a couple more chapters out soon. Please enjoy, be sure to drop any feedback, I love hearing from you!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You sighed as you walked into one of your barns tucked toward the back of the property, recently transformed into what looked almost looked like a city loft apartment to accommodate for Bucky’s workers on the farm. You were carrying produce crates and one of Bucky’s henchmen, Peter, came to take them from your hands.

Ever since Bucky’s construction crew has been working in the mines, most of the food that you would normally be selling at the farmer’s market has been going to them. That makes it easy for you, though. A few of them have even been around the fields helping out to pick it themselves, too, giving you a little more time to sort through documents, contracts, and future plans, without having to stay up late like your normally would to fit in all the work.

All the men had been a great help, and exceptionally respectful, which surprised you. Sure, you expected them to be formal and well-behaved, but their actions seemed almost rehearsed, like they had been told exactly what to do. Peter, probably the one kid who you had taken a liking to, was the only one who would really hold conversations with you, though. You assumed part of it was due to his status in Bucky’s organization. He was young, but extremely smart, earning him a spot of minor authority. Although every time he opened his mouth, you were never quite sure what would come out. It could either be something honest and profound, or a weird nervous babble. Sweet kid, though, so no harm done. He was like the best parts of Jake and Curtis at that age.

As you handed the crate over, you looked around at the high ceilings, now lined with bulb lights and the cool tones that decorated the previously wood-heavy space. “I’ve always wanted a barndiminium, just never had an excuse to make it.”

Peter added your box to the stack in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchenette. No way they had time to hook up appliances and water lines already, right? “I know our men seem pretty gruff, but if there’s one thing they like, it’s comfort and luxury where they lay their heads.”

You laughed and nodded your head. Just like their boss, although he didn’t seem to complain as much anymore, laying on sheets that were probably about as old as him.

Peter continued shifting crates around, unloading certain items likely for whatever meal they had planned next once the next round of workers got off their shift. “And of course, boss wouldn’t want anything less than the best when it comes to you. Says this’ll increase the property value. And it’s all yours to enjoy as you please when we’re gone.”

Ah, there it was. The kinda thing Bucky wouldn’t say to your face, but Peter’s lips let slip like it was nothing. Like it was obvious. You tried to change the subject, unsure if you could confront those types of feelings to Peter when you hadn’t even built up the courage to discuss them with Bucky yet. You knew Bucky cared about quality, and had a little understanding of the extent he was willing to go for you. But you didn’t even want to think about a time when Bucky could be gone.

“Don’t you need permits for this stuff?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Plus, I’m sure the higher ups worked their smooth talking magic and their connections. They’re amazing with things like that.”

You hummed in agreement. You had seen and heard first-hand how effortlessly Bucky could have something done for him. The world was at his fingertips. Surely that rule stood true for most people around him.

“Don’t I know, Peter. But I’m sure you’ve got your own charms. Some of your own connections that Buck doesn’t.”

He gave you a sheepish smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess, sort of. But I’m not sure how much they’d really put me in charge of that stuff. Sometimes I just freeze up when I have to tell them things instead of them telling me what to do…I just get so flustered around Mr. Barnes.”

You nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I’d say they trust you a lot for you to be in control of as much as you are right now. They definitely see through your nervousness. You’re doing a great job and I really appreciate you discretion and assistance around here.”

He gave you a soft smile. “Oh..wow, thanks.”

You nodded and turned on the newly laid floor, ready to head back to the house to continue your paperwork.

The mid-morning sun was at your back as you made your way inside towards the office. You were almost never inside at this time of day, so it was a wonderful pocket of time to be productive. You were greeted by Bucky sitting in your chair, shuffling though papers while he was on a phone call. He drew his gaze from the fan of parchment in front of him, smiling when he saw your face.

“Yeah, just keep an eye on her and increase security all around. Overlap shifts and monitor cameras 24/7. Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

You smiled as Bucky set the phone down. You had never heard him thank anyone before. As you took another step closer, though, you saw which papers he was looking through. Your own smile fell to see the contract from Cole for the hundredth time. Why was Bucky able to be so happy when this attempt at a forceful ‘offer’ was in front of him?

“C’mere, Honey.” Bucky gestured for you to come sit with him on your chair, but instead, you opted to take a seat opposite him, in front of your desk. There was work to be done and you couldn’t let yourself get distracted, even if he seemed oddly at ease.

You watched as his previously carefree gaze scrunched in on itself, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and lips in a slight pout. As you plopped down in the old cushion, you crossed your arms and legs.

“Bucket, I’m doing this for the good of both of us. Talk business with me first, then we can discuss…accessory ventures.”

You nodded in gesture to the papers, hoping he’d explain why this all needed to be looked over again. Was it not enough that it was constantly running through your mind? You had the power to just say ‘no,’ as long as Cole didn’t keep pushing or have anything over your head, but things were never that easy, so what was really going on?

“Honey, come on. We’ve got a little time to be close. This way we don’t have to flip papers back and forth to read them.” His voice had softened from his phone call, nearly reaching a whine.

“James…” oh, you weren’t messing around. You were taking this seriously. “I can read upside down. It’s fine. Just talk me through what’s going through your head.”

He sighed and his chin met his chest in defeat. “Ever since Curtis messaged me that Cole tried to get into the bar and Lloyd had been with him, I just want to be extra cautious, which is why I’m going through these. Again. I’ve already sent them to my lawyer in the city, so he’ll confirm for me.”

You nodded and stood up, finally walking over to him. “So is this what you’re really worried about? What’s not in the contracts, but real-life threats?”

You walked around your desk, hips swerving to miss the corners as you finally stood in front of Bucky. He swiveled the chair so you stood between his legs and threw his forehead against your stomach. You held him close and stroked his hair before he moved to look up at you, resting his chin on your sternum and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yeah. I’m worried about you. And what’ll come when I have to leave. And just how involved Lloyd may be. I know I already told you about him, but I don’t think words can describe how much he truly doesn’t subscribe to caring for the well-being of others when they stand in his way. I know this is all that Cole has sent so far, but if Lloyd has anything to say about it, this won’t be the last push, but it’ll certainly be the nicest.”

You nodded down to him before gesturing for him to sit up so you could straddle his lap in the oversized leather chair. You held the sides of his face before leaning your forehead against his. You did your best to speak in a firm, yet placating tone.

“Jamie. I promise, I’m going to be fine. I was fine before you and I can take care of myself when you’re gone.”

He closed his eyes and sighed again. “I know, I know. But I just made the command to keep Peter here with you. He’s an extra precaution. You’ll barely notice him, and I’m sure having the help will be nice.”

You pulled away to smile and roll your eyes. “Bucky, he’s a kid. What’s he gonna do that I can’t? Plus, you know I like him. The last thing I would want is him putting himself in harm’s way for my sake.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, you know how capable he is. If I can see it, I know you sensed it from a mile away. He stays at least until it all blows over. Everyone is willing to do what is necessary to protect you. It’s what they signed on for.”

You knew that Bucky wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so instead, you simply kissed his temple and wrapped your arms around him, nestling against his neck. “Okay, fine. But he’s gonna become the buffest farmer you’ve ever seen when he comes back to you. I’m burning all his little suits. You’ll only ever see him in strictly flannel.”

Bucky let out a light chuckle as he rubbed your back, sitting in the chair and enjoying the moment with you before you mumbled against his neck in question.

“So you wanna tell me what Jake was really doing here? And what you did to make him into the same guy he used to be?”

Bucky hummed in thought at your question. He wasn’t quite sure if honesty was the best way to go here. Sure, you knew that everyone who knew about the mines had to come into town, but why have Jake help? And why didn’t Bucky hate him as much as you’d anticipated?

Bucky clicked his tongue before deciding on the diplomatic answer. “I just reminded him of his place and how valuable you are. Not much more than that. He’s smart if you direct the way he needs to think. I mean, he’s half the reason you’re in this mess, but he could help us get out if we do it right.”

“Yeah, okay Mr. Politician. Whatever you say. Just make sure you restock my duct tape. I’ve been running low lately and I’m not sure how that happened.” Bucky froze as you laughed at the reaction. Dang, he should’ve told the truth. You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t already know, you were just giving him the opportunity to let you in. Noted.

The rest of the week on the farm was fairly easy as you and Bucky worked in tandem, sporadically getting updates on the mine reinforcements and spells of assistance from his men.

But otherwise, you got along well. Bucky was truly learning the farm chores and operations, catching on quicker than you had anticipated. He only ran the tractor into one ditch and his boots hadn’t gotten stuck in mud at all. Now you were helping, or at least trying to help, him reach mastery in what you thought he would’ve caught onto easily: barking orders.

The two of you were out in the pasture, as you finally taught him how to use your sheep and cattle dogs. Sure, they were practically self-sufficient, but sneaky little things sometimes with their own agendas. Bucky, in an attempt to boast about all the independent work he had done the previous week, revealed himself for the actual issues he had experienced with them, obviously not unbeknownst to you.

After a long day of running around and nearly a week since hearing anything from Cole, you and Bucky were spent, walking back up to your house to have a nice night in, just sitting on the porch and enjoying the peace. As you got closer, though, you could hardly make out a small brown blob waiting there next to one of the posts. Was it a package? You hadn’t ordered any new equipment lately….and then it moved.

You threw an arm out in front of Bucky, both of you stopping stark in your tracks.

“Wait. Hold on. You see that?”

Bucky grabbed your arm close to his chest when you stopped, leaning over it and squinting until it became clear. What was that doing on your porch?

The two of you cautiously kept walking towards it, finally deciphering what you were looking at: a brown, fluffy, baby… highland cow?

You could hear it moo more and more the closer you got, eventually seeing it tied to one of the porch posts with a rope and a ribbon around its neck: both Turner’s blue.

You walked up to the calf cautiously, holding out a hand and cooing at it to ease its evidently nervous state.

“Shhh, shhhh, hey there little thing. What are you doing up here?” Sure, you owned a plethora of livestock, but none of these. This was, for lack of a better term, a house cow. Something Decks had begged you to get for years, but you never had the need or the time for.

You pet the tuft of hair on top of its head as you squatted down, grabbing the piece of card stock attached to the ribbon before looking up over your shoulder at Bucky. You could already see the anger rising in his eyes and seeping through the rest of his demeanor, fists clenched and body rigid as he nodded for you to read.

“Peach, take a taste of what success could be. Here, have a cow. -Cole. P.S. all in good faith”

Oh, Bucky was gonna have a cow, alright. You rolled your eyes at another ridiculous note. This was very evidently not a dairy cow from his stock, so you weren’t sure why Cole was trying to pull one over on you by claiming it was. And he didn’t even leave it with any feed or water for who knows how long it had been there up until this point. The main question was: why didn’t Bucky’s men intercept? You guessed they were probably under specific instructions not to, as to keep a low profile.

When you looked back up at him, Bucky was already on the phone. Even before you had gotten to the porch, he had sent a message to Peter to check the cams and make sure no one had lingered on the property after the delivery. This new development instantly put him on high alert.

He held the phone to his ear now, though, as it rang only twice before you heard someone on the other side pick up. “Hey Barber, I know you’re busy with that other stuff I sent you, but what do you know about corporate gifting policies?”

Meanwhile, you had untied the poor baby from the post and scooped it up, carrying it inside and to the kitchen while Bucky slumped into the couch. You gave the calf—at least it was a girl capable of producing milk and not a boy-which you definitely would’ve roasted Cole for—some water before taking her over to the couch and setting her down next to Bucky. You ran your knuckles against his temple in a soothing stroke before petting through his hair and giving him a kiss on his hairline. When you pulled away, thumb moving to stroke his cheek, you mouthed ‘it’ll be okay,’ only seeing his jaw unclench slightly at the reassurance. You moved to sit on the couch on the other side of the calf and criss-crossed your legs, petting her and listening to Bucky’s lawyer walking him through corporate gifting laws, now on speaker.

Next >

Bonus A/N: highland cows are so cute. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sent a video of one getting a little spa day🥰

Series Taglist: @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch

[let-roman-bite-someone]

oh also, i see a lot of patton hate because "he's mean to logan" when i never saw this kind of sentiment when logan (and roman) was being dismissive of patton and even outright insulting him in s1 and even in recent episodes.

now i love and relate to logan as much as anyone else, but let’s not kid ourselves and pretend like he's perfect and hasn't been a pompous asshole. he has apologized or tried to make an effort to make it up to patton a couple times, but he still ends up insulting patton and not taking him seriously. apologies don't mean shit if you keep repeating the same mistake.

so there’s not much progress there but i guess people are fine with it because it’s easier to ignore a character who has been insensitive from the beginning than it is to accept that a kind and easygoing character can have some flaws and aren’t always perfect. people just excuse logan's actions with "he doesn't understand emotions uwu".

if you’re going to judge patton for talking over logan or revealing his name without his consent (which btw logan didn’t even seem to care about, he never seemed to give that much importance to his name, since he is logic either way) you’re gonna have to judge the other sides whenever they’re being mean as well.

criticizing or disliking a character is fine, i’m not gonna tell you how to feel about a character. but it’s the double standards that really pisses me off.

[hana-no-seiiki]

yandere! rich! nerd oc x poor! popular! gn! reader short - midnight darling

guess who got recently got accepted into the biology course in ateneo and is binge watching gilmore girls as inspo? (it’s me. on cloud 9 rn augh-) have this as my tiny celebration. been a while since i wrote for midnight darling ehe.

starting our pride month posts w/ our genderfluid masochist nerd who technically is the most popular oc of mine, isaiah/Isabel!

cw/tw: bullying, harassment, toxic parents

status: unedited and rushed af

“Papatayin na talaga kita.”

You weren’t always the perfect pristine popular student. Acting didn’t come to you naturally. You had to learn through trial and error; through fire and metal. You didn’t always had an iron grip over your emotions and what slipped through.

As such, at that moment you first met Isaiah — who now went by another name — you couldn’t help but shower them with the hostility of cat seeing another enter its territory.

“I - I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to —!”

“When I make promises, I follow through with them.” You covered their mouth before he could even complete his stupid waste of an excuse, “I promised to bring you hell when you broke my project last semester, and I did.”

You recount the days you spent making sure Isaiah experienced true suffering; getting rid of their friends, destroying his family’s fortunes, putting his reputation through the mud and stomping on it til it bleeds so that even if you did nothing the rest of the students in your school would do the job for you.

But even then…

“I promised to the entire student body — to this entire school that I will be the one that uplifts it. That I will make it known throughout the country as the one that miraculously got a student to Mediasnoches.”

Tears escaped your eyes. How long has it been since the last time you legitimately cried? It had been so long that you started to think you were simply completely incapable of it. How could you cry when you were too busy to even feel? Hours and hours spent on studying, making notes, reviewing those notes at least ten times, making flashcards and schedules, drowning yourself in extracurriculars. Your schedule just didn’t have space to be a sobbing mess.

“I promised my mom and dad . . . na kahit ano man mangyari — ma . . .matatanggap . . . “ Your hand slipped and fell to your side. You legs give up, and any semblance of calm left your visage.

Your face covered in snot and tears was an unfamiliar sight to your classmate. He who had studied it day and night, hated it, loved it, cherished it. He had no doubt it was the most beautiful he had ever seen you been. But the problem was that he wasn’t the reason you were like this. At least not completely. It was their stupid parent’s fault for influencing the results.

His arms encircled your form as he cooed.

“I’ll … give up my spot for you okay? Don’t cry. You deserve it alright? I don’t. I’m just a kid with too much money on their hands like you said…”

So, until the time they could make you cry with their actions and their actions alone, your sobs had to stop.

[ TRANSLATIONS ] :

Papatayin na talaga kita — I will really (fucking) kill you.

Na kahit ano man mangyari — That whatever happens

Matatanggap — Will be accepted

[givehimthemedicine]

i read the Lumax analysis and ngl i feel the same about Byler. why is Will practically doing all the work. Mike just ignores him, then Will speaks up, gets shut down. no apology to his face. then Mike has the gall to pull the "b-but you won’t abandon me, right 🥺?" card seconds before they move to Cali and Will eats it up.

Mike was scribbling his next letter to send to El, while Will was making a painting as a gift for him. when they reunite at the airport, Will is so giddy, and happy even when he spots Mike wearing the Minion suit. he is going in for a hug, fully expecting he’ll get one. despite the lack of phone calls he believes that Mike is gonna match his energy. he doesn’t. he is ignored. again. when Mike realizes he is losing him he swoops in to apologize. what do we get for rest of season? it’s just Will comforting, reassuring Mike and listening to his problems. he notices Mike being upset as they are burying the corpse and talks to him, he notices Mike moping as he reads El’s letter, etc. then the grand culmination - van scene.

i give Mike a pass for not noticing Will sobbing as hes muffling his cries with his hand and turned around. but what about before? when he was giving the van speech at times Will looked and sounded like he was 2 seconds away from bursting into tears. how did Mike not notice something was wrong when he was obviously paying attention to him. and if he did that’s even worse.

Jonathan being there isn’t an excuse. he could have said something, anything, subtly to check up on him or comfort him. he didn’t do that. "you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all. like she’s better for being different" ok so why are the Duffers so allergic to showing us that. when was the last time that happened. season 2? when Mike said it’s not his fault Will doesn’t like girls, that they are not kids anymore, him wanting to play DnD, which led to Will having a breakdown and destroying Castle Byers, his safe place and cry as he ripped up their photos and called himself stupid - was he feeling better for being different? or worse? did he feel uplifted by Mike shoving in his face how normal he is unlike Will? that he’ll never be like them? that they are moving on, being grown ups and Will is stuck? could some bully at school outright calling him a slur be as hurtful as the things his best friend, someone he trusted and loved said to him then? that he never received a proper apology for.

Mike gets free therapy sessions. Will gets a few crumbs of attention and affection when Mike gets forcibly separated from El.

Mike and Will aren't characters I pay particular attention to, so the townsfolk will please forgive my newborn take.

I absolutely see your point and agree Mike has had terrible PR with Will on many occasions. but while he's often an asshat when it comes to Will's feelings, I'll say at least Mike is regularly shown to be concerned for Will's welfare in the life-and-death-plot way, and is actively involved in making plans and taking actions that save him. (Mike's the one to rally the party to go out and search for Will. to insist he's alive somehow after they all saw his dead body. to build "hey let's make sure we don't also kill Will" into the MF-killing plans. etc)

that's where I think a comparison to lumax isn't so tight because I can't think of anything Max has ever done for Lucas's welfare on either a plot or feelings level. (the writing has never really given her an occasion to save or help Lucas the way he is for her.)

and for all his shit, we have also seen Mike be really good to Will on the feelings level (mostly thinking about his incredible loyalty in season 2 and the swings speech. his commitment to Will in the front half of the show is on par with that of Joyce and that's saying something). it sure would be nicer if that was more recent/consistent, but it has happened, which I can't honestly say for Max. the nicest thing Max has done for Lucas so far is allow him to be nice to her.

[blastaway2004]

As someone who really likes both A:TLA and The Dragon Prince, this take infuriates me so much because, I love both Aang and Ezran for different reasons:

“Watched season 6 of TDP recently and Ezran is a much better character than Aang.

Ezran is a kid too and he tends to be naive.

But where ATLA uses Aang's age as an excuse for his actions, TDP stresses that while Ezran is young, that's not a reason for him to never take responsibility. That's not a reason for him to cling to the past and never move forward. He needs to grow up and face chal-lenges.

I also feel like Ezran's vision of peace and Aang's vision of peace are very different.

Aang tries to push his own ideals on other people, and gets frustrated when they don't agree. But Ezran understands and acknowledges that people are in pain. He knows peace doesn't come easy which is why he uses his position to take the first steps.

And to be honest, Ezran just had more growth”.

People who say this stuff are morons with no media-literacy. And yes, they ship Zutara.

I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen The Dragon Prince. But I have heard it’s good, made by Aaron Ehasz and Sokka voices the main character. So I can’t really comment on Ezran, but as for Aang…

OP blatantly lies about Aang and just doesn’t understand or remember his character. For one the show NEVER uses his age as an excuse for his actions. His age is only really brought up in the context that he has so much pressure thrust upon him as the Avatar, something no 12 year old should be put through.

Aang is genuinely a kindhearted person, but whenever he does do something wrong, he’s either called out for it, apologizes or at the very least realizes his mistake. When he hides the letter from Hakoda, Sokka is pissed and Katara is disappointed, Aang doesn’t try to justify what he did, he knows it was wrong and accepts the consequences. When he burns Katara he swears off firebending, he feels remorse over giving into negativity and hatred when Appa was stolen and bottles up his emotions. In EIP he clearly realizes kissing Katara was stupid and the latter is rightfully annoyed.

The whole point of the show is Aang taking responsibility and actively seeking to save the world, which he does. He grows up and faces many challenges, in The Storm, he says

“I’m done dwelling on the past. I can't make guesses about what would have turned out if I hadn't run away. I'm here now and I'm going to make the most out of it”.

That’s precisely what Aang does during the series.

“Aang tries to push his own ideals on other people, and gets frustrated when they don't agree. But Ezran understands and acknowledges that people are in pain. He knows peace doesn't come easy which is why he uses his position to take the first steps.”

I am so sick of this notion that Aang tries to push his ideas on people. I know what episode they’re referring to, and Aang never tried to force his ideals on Katara. He actively acknowledges that Katara is in pain.

“Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?”

He knows that peace doesn’t come easy, he urges Katara to face the killer, she doesn’t forgive him like Aang expected her to, but Aang takes no issue with this, he’s just proud she didn’t give into her hatred and chose to forgive Zuko, who need I mention, Aang had taken the first step by offering him friendship and saving his life.

The thing is, I and many other don’t take issue with criticism regarding Aang, for example I wish he was shown apologizing to Katara in EIP and I wish his conflict about killing Ozai was set up earlier. All Anti-Aang criticisms essentially have no merit to them, this one in particular actively fails to understand character and makes up elements that were never at play, the stuff they say Aang didn’t do, he actually did, you’d have to be blind not to notice.

[xelitzenith]

I find the warframe reddit comment section a swamp but their are rare gems.

Like this.

(Couldn't take a screenshot cuz the comment was to long and I was lazy)

Link to the comment

https://www.reddit.com/r/Warframe/s/1wW1qm5ts8

"I’m pretty annoyed that the Tenno are roped off into this category of “forever children”. That completely disregards the character growth that happens through the story. Learning from, and then surpassing your mentors; growing free from the blind following of your motherly figure, and working from your own autonomy. There’s a reason the Lotus hasn’t really been a focus in a lot of the recent quests. The Tenno are coming into their own. Heck they’ve even been through child birth at this point. What at this point makes them not adults other than the body they’re stuck in? At VERY least they’re late-teens at this point.

This is what always annoyed me with the introduction of the Drifter. He is treated like adult Main Character, but in reality he is a completely different person. He did not go through the same trials of being a child soldier in a universe at war, nor suffer the emotional torture of Ballas. He grew up fighting for his life in duviri, sure. But that’s its own story, which would have shaped him in its own way.

I would make the argument that the Tenno are more adult than the drifter. The Tenno have had to make hard choices, and deal with real world consequences. They’ve had to moderate themselves and account for the actions and feelings of others. Lotus, Ballas, Teshin, The Queens, the Orokin, etc. Meanwhile the drifter let his emotions form a literal fantasy realm to save himself from reality. He secluded himself within is psyche and endlessly fights with his own internal struggles. Yes he breaks out from the paradox during the new war, but even that experience is short lived and only a drop in the bucket compared to the vast amount of character growth we’ve personally experienced with the Tenno.

The idea that drifter is morally “available” for romance while the Tenno aren’t is a disservice to the characters, and the story. It’s a surface level excuse so they can add a romance system without bringing up the deep moral questions. It’s easy to say “the grown up can romance, the kids can’t”. But it’s a lot more complex when you realize those “kids” are who we’ve grown up alongside for 10 years, whose salt we’ve seen. But the “adult” is a man-child barely out of the womb.

This post will probably get downvoted to hell, and probably get comments about being a peado. I’m not advocating for that at all. But I am asking the question, when are immortal characters considered adults? DE seems to think the Tenno aren’t there yet; fair enough. But when will that be? We have seen them mature over the quests. They can’t be written off as children forever if you want your character’s growth to mean anything."

[hadescabin]

TW// GROOMING, MANIPULATION breaking down tigerheartstar and dovewing and why i think its awful ik I said that I dont really like warrior cats anymore but recently i've been thinking about some stuff regarding the series and its fandom and there's one thing that's been particularly bothering me. dovewing and tigerheart. it's just crazy to see the shift of support for tigerdove considering early 2010s warriors fandom seemed mixed on them. now there seems to be this equivocal support for them, probably because most of the fandom's exposure to the couple has been the recent books which frames them as man who loves his wife x burnt out prophecy kid who will do anything for her malewife. which theres nothing wrong with that dynamic, i think it's cute, but people really seem to forget about how tigerheart straight up groomed and treated dovewing awfully throughout oots and even in tigerheart's shadow. it seems to be a forgotten fact that tigerheart was a full grown warrior by the time he was pursuing dovepaw, who was a newly made apprentice. for perspective, this was a 6-7 moon teenager with someone almost the age of her mentor (a little younger). people try to use the excuse "oh but they're cats" and "the age gap isnt that bad" but even the recent books acknowledge with frostpaw and splashtail, that a warrior and apprentice dating is WEIRD. tbf oots was released in the early 2000s, but the fact that canonically speaking the age gap is seen as a teenager and adult relationship gives me the ick. it really puzzles me to see people get on ships like dustfern and bramblesquirrel (both of which i hate btw) for their age gaps but come up with every excuse in the books to defend tigerdove. its not even just the age gap too, again, their relationship has consisted of tigerheart manipulating and grooming dovepaw to do what he wants. in the first two books (esp the second book of oots) dovepaw is presented as someone who got attached to the cats from the journey and doesnt necessarily understand why they must act like they shouldnt exist anymore due to the borders. this is something that tigerheart LEARNS and actively takes advantage of when dovepaw questions why hes at their borders (tldr its dark forest stuff). he shifts the topic and then goes on about the journey and how he felt that they almost became friends, and that if they were in the same clan things would be easier. this may not seem like a big deal, but this goes on for the rest of their interactions whenever tiger needs to pressure her to do something she doesnt want (meeting up, trusting him, etc.) He realizes that the subject of different borders resonates with her and uses it to his advantage whenever he wants something out of her. This can especially be seen in the next book, “Night Whispers”, which kickstarted their relationship. Dovepaw accidentally ran into ShadowClan territory while hunting, and Tigerheart happens to find her there. Once again, he gives her a speech about borders being meaningless, before asking her to meet up with him before the ShadowClan patrol catches them. There’s also other examples in later books where he coerces her into meeting up or trusting him since “that’s what friends are for” or even later in that book, where he manipulates her into using Ivypaw as a captive for herbs. 

When you take this into account, plus him as a full grown warrior, starting a romantic relationship with a barely apprenticed Dovepaw who is shown as having a childish/ immature perception on romance/mates (such as her argument with Ivypaw and claiming that she should “find her own mate”), Tigerdove feels very much like grooming to me. According to the dictionary definition grooming is, “the action of attempting to form a relationship with a child or young person, with the intention of sexually assaulting them”. Of course, in this case, since it’s a young adult book, it’s to form a romantic relationship, which could also be another goal of grooming. Groomers tend to display manipulative behaviors towards the victims in order to coerce them into trusting them more. Whether that be through compliments, gifts, trying to resonate with them or make them feel special. They tend to try to get them to keep and “share” secrets, which is another tactic they utilize both to isolate the victim and to get them to feel more comfortable. 

A lot of behaviors that Tigerheart displays towards Dovepaw falls under this, including the examples I mentioned. There are a couple of other comments that he makes which come off as creepy such as Dovepaw “being his favorite sister”, which as I established, is something a groomer would say in order to make the victim feel as though they’re special and garner their trust. Which is especially the case when you note that he makes that comment in reference to Dovepaw asking about his ties to Ivypaw, which he actively lies about, and quickly reassures her that there’s nothing going on. 

This tactic of manipulation, where he either makes her feel special, or even love bombs and dissuade her from standing up for herself, doesn’t stop when she’s an apprentice. It continues when she’s a warrior, and is constantly used throughout OOTS and “Tigerheart’s Shadow”. At one point in the series, Dovewing and Tigerheart get into an argument about Dawnpelt wrongfully accusing Jayfeather of murder. When Tigerheart defends his sister, Dovewing stands up for Jayfeather, which prompts Tigerheart to try and manipulate her out of the conversation. He jumps straight to talking about how much he loved and missed her, and guilts her by asking why they had to argue like this, and why they couldn’t just “meet like before”. As for Tigerheart's Shadow, he actively goes against what she wants (to raise her kits outside the clan) and actively pressures and guilts her into coming back, before she finally relents. He doesn't care about what SHE wants, it's always about him. Whether it be secretly meeting up, or in The Last Hope, he tries to pressure her to date him again (which she FINALLY refuses and scolds him for thinking about his own needs when they're right before a final battle. as she should). It's especially upsetting in the newest book that tigerheart seems to be the only think at the center of her character. when she argues with ivypool, it's less about the two sister's interpersonal conflicts and more about her and tigerheart's relationship. which...feels like a lot of missed potential to me? i want them to argue, i want dovewing to stand up to herself against ivypool, but why does the entire conflict have to revolve around him? why can't dovewing have her own thoughts and feelings without it tying back to her awful husband?

[cearthduo]

I’m so glad to have someone who actually acknowledge C!Dream more than just Tommy’s abuser because to me while that is a part of his character I always feel like just focusing on that and Tommy and dream as a abuser and victim is not a disservice for Dream character, but also Tommy’s character. like Tommy is more than just a victim kind of found it ironic that the people who always use exiles as an example end up kind of accidentally dehumanized Tommy in a way. I got this entire essay in my head about how the fandom is so overprotective of Tommy to the point that they would excuse every single action that he did that even in universe is presented as a bad thing, but that’s a story for another day 

I agree wholeheartedly. Tommy apologists like to pretend they're the "good people" when really all they're pushing is the rhetoric that a victim will never be more than their abuse. Everything tommy has ever done is just pointed back to "he was abused." Even if you talk about something as early as L'manberg it'll always be "he was a kid, he went through a lot" To a lot of these people, Tommy is nothing more than his trauma. He's hurt, a wounded animal, he can't do any better. And it's such a disservice to Tommy's character when people infantilize him like that.

I think the discs are a good example of that last point. I remember seeing a post recently explaining away Tommy's unhealthy obsession with the discs saying "it reminds him of the early days" or something. And I can not even BEGIN to dissect how wrong that is. Tommy's dependence on and obsession with the discs is presented as a BAD THING narratively since the beginning. I mean. before Tommy went through anything he was already putting the value of these discs he found above the happiness of Tubbo. He kills Tubbo's pet bee and when he asks for the discs in return, do you know what Tommy does? He burns down Tubbo's house. And it's like, how can you present Tommy's obsession with the discs as a cute normal thing when it's always shown as being a negative aspect of his character. He gets actual character development during the staged disc finale and the actual finale when he's able to finally put Tubbo's life above the discs. And these people, who are supposed to be so well versed in the character, can't seem to grasp that small of a character trait because they haveeee to infantilize Tommy because he's a victim. I would love love love to see your essay btw! I love seeing people's takes on this topic because it's rare people ever talk about it and it's something i'm kinda passionate about. So if you ever jot down your thoughts on here, know i will reblog tf out of it LMAO.

[menlove]

hey there! i’ve very recently gotten into the beatles and have been exploring their history/lore in my spare time and accidentally spiraled down the mclennon rabbit hole. reading your posts has really got me interested but i’ll admit i’m a bit conflicted, so i hope you don’t mind me asking a genuine question; how do you reconcile john’s horrible behavior to cynthia/others while also shipping mclennon? (this is genuinely not from a place of malice, i’m already attached to mclennon myself but knowing john’s past has put me in a weird headspace about the whole thing and i don’t know what to do).

oh I get that. I've definitely been in a weird headspace about the whole thing before too. recently and then it's also part of why I deeply pretended I didn't still like the beatles after my first obsession as a kid

for me personally, I think there's several ways I come at it? (and disclaimer: this is as a fan who's already decided to interact w him/his work in a fannish way. I'm NOT saying any of this is necessary or that people who can't stand him are obligated to do these things. and that's not @ u anon, I've just gotten some odd responses any time I talk about this)

first one is just that he's already dead. not just dead, but brutally murdered. he was murdered when he was 40 and so the question is like.... what Else can really be done ykwim? like there's this sense in social justice circles that people must be made to Suffer for their actions and I'd say getting murdered is right up there

I'd also say another Big One for me is that it's not my place to forgive him or not forgive him or whatever. I never knew the man, his actions didn't impact me personally. but those that they Did impact (cynthia, yoko, may, paul to an extent, etc) still deeply love the man and Have forgiven him. which obviously isn't to say that means anyone else has to, but just that like. at the end of the day, if the people he hurt have moved on & view him in an overall positive light, I don't feel like. as bad about it?

I'm trying to explain this in a way that doesn't sound like I'm excusing anything, bc I'm really not. just that To Me the most important goals of holding famous abusive people accountable is a) justice for those they've harmed and b) letting their wallets feel the consequences of their actions by not giving money to their shit. both of these points are... pretty much null with john. he's dead, in one of the worst ways possible, and the people that he hurt aren't calling for any sort of action against him bc they've already forgiven him.

ultimately I think just like....... as long as you tread a lil carefully and keep it in mind it's... the damage was already done, the people he hurt have already moved on, and the man's already dead. writing about him fucking paul mccartney isn't going to Worsen anything. as long as we aren't like. denying that he was abusive Or trying to deify him.

and like I said, this is literally only about ppl who have Already chosen to still interact w him in any fannish way like you and I. I'm in no way demanding anyone else view it like this if they don't like him or the beatles bc of his actions