#so I obviously know more about their story

[heart-eyed-love]

Grouch

Summary | You’re not the most pleasant person to wake up, so Eddie decides to stick it out in Gareth’s basement.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers (eventually), Cursing…

Pairing | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader

Word Count | 1.3k

An | I haven’t written in a while, I’ve had no motivation, so I’m so sorry this sucks😭 Hopefully I’ll be able to get something better out soon!!

“So… Who’s gonna wake her up?” Jeff asks.

All the boys stare at you from your spot on the couch. Face smooshed against the small pillow you used to cushion your head. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but whatever movie Gareth had chosen for that night had you passed out 30 minutes in.

“I mean, obviously Eddie, right?” Grant says, brow raised as he looks over at him, smirking as Eddie looked back at him with squinted eyes.

Yes. Eddie knew that was probably his responsibility right now, he had driven you over and he was supposed to drive you back to your trailer.

“Well, me and Jeff gotta go, so… have fun waking up, the princess…” He teases as he pats Eddie’s shoulder and he and Jeff make their way to Gareths front door.

Eddie actually preferred nights when the movie hangouts were held over at anyone else’s house. The other boys enjoyed them more at his trailer, no adults to interrupt and basically free rein. Which is why Eddie dreaded having them at his place, it’s not that he didn’t like his friends he just didn’t like having a hoard of teenage boys loose around his safe space.

You were a completely different story though. Movies night with you at his trailer were probably his favorite, but he’s not about to admit that to you.

And when you would conk out at his place he’d just let you sleep. It has come very apparent to everyone in the group that waking you up was not for the weak.

You were definitely snippy to say the least, you weren’t too fond of the way you acted after being woken up either. Probably something you should work on, but that’s beside the point.

Eddie and Gareth are left with you, and Gareth chuckles lightly at the small dribble of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. He won’t lie, he thinks you're cute, but he has to keep his staring to a minimum cause the few times Eddie had caught him staring at you the look he shot him was nothing short of scary.

“Well, Go ahead.” Gareth says with an all too cocky smirk.

“Can we just crash here? I mean, she looks kinda peaceful… we wouldn’t want to disturb that…”

“Pussy.” Gareth says with a chuckle but immediately shut up as he sees the look in Eddie’s eyes.

Jeez. There it is again. Gareth will never know how he can hold so much power with just one look. But it has him muttering a quiet ‘sorry’.

“Yeah, you can crash here, I’ll bring some pillows and blankets down…” And he’s already quick on his feet to head upstairs. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs as he takes in seat on the floor next to where you legs are set. He leans his head back on the couch and looks up at you.

He immediately clocks the dampened spot on the pillow, right by where your mouth laid. He chuckles slightly at the sight.

Of course you’re a drooler. And of course this is the one time he doesn’t find it disgusting. He rolls his eyes again, and looks forward. Letting out a sigh feeling slightly annoyed with himself. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it though, thankfully, cause Gareth is coming back down stairs with pillows and blankets.

He stands to help, grabbing some of the pile off of him, dropping a pillow and blankets down to the floor for himself and then taking the rest.

“Are you actually scared to wake her?” Gareth asks, his tone is still slightly playful. Eddie does find himself impressed sometimes by how persistently annoying Gareth can be without giving up, but not right now.

Eddie stares at Gareth blankly for a second before letting out a sigh, “Only like a tiny bit.” He tries to defend but Gareth still chuckles lightly.

“Well, you know where everything is so… I’ll leave you to it. Night.” He says as he begins making his way back up the stairs to his room.

Turning his gaze back to you, Eddie moves himself closer to you, and as carefully as he can he lifts your legs from the floor onto the couch. You grumble quietly but never fully wake up. He grabs one of the blankets for you and lazily throws it on to you. He watches how it lands imperfectly.

And for what feels like the umpteenth time that night he rolls his eyes before what seems to be an attempt to tuck you in. He doesn’t understand how you have the powers to pull him to do such things but you do.

Once you’re more efficiently covered he plops himself down to the floor, adjust his pillow and throws the blanket over himself. He feels exhausted for some reason. Mostly likely from Gareth's shitty movie choice, and it has him ready to pass out.

And fortunately it doesn’t take him long.

But not too long after you find yourself waking up, eyes heavy as they let themselves slightly open. The rooms dark as you take it in and it clicks that this is not your room.

You sit up in a panic. Shit did Eddie really leave you here?!

“Fuck!” You whispered panicked as you swing your legs over the edge of the couch and your feet crush down onto something soft. You fall back down to the couch as whatever you just stepped on lets out a loud groan and your eyes widen.

“Shit! Fuck! I’m sorry, I uh- I thought you left…” You look down at him guiltily, “I’m sorry…”

Eddie lets out an exhausted sigh as he runs his hands down his face and sleepily says, “I wouldn’t just leave you here, Y/n.” His tone is slightly annoyed and you can’t blame him, waking up to a foot in the gut is not the best, and somehow he’s still being nicer than you would have been. 10x times nicer.

“No?” You ask quietly as you lay yourself back down onto your pillow, continuing to stare at him from over the edge.

Looks over to you and grumbles out “No…” And he lets his eyes close again, but they quickly snap open at the feeling of your hand on his stomach, right where you stepped.

You give it a small rub before saying, “Again, I’m really sorry…” You pull your hand away but he can still feel a sort of tingling in his stomach where you laid your hand on him, overpowering the painful foot to the gut feeling present before.

“It’s fine…” he whispers.

“Can we- can we go home? I really, really don’t want to sit and eat breakfast with Gareth's dad again…” He chuckles tired at that. Every time they’ve all spent the night there, they had to deal with whatever bullshit Gareth’s dad was talking about way too fucking early, so he’s all for leaving.

“Yeah, c’mon…” grunts slightly as he rises from his spot on the floor. He throws his pillow and blanket onto the couch by yours and you both quietly slip out of the house and make your way to his van.

The drive back to the trailer park was quiet, you both were too tired for conversation, but once you arrived home and he parked in front of your trailer you hopped out and walked to his side of the van. He quickly rolled the window down as you walked closer.

“You don’t need to be scared to wake me up, Eddie…” you smirk at him, and he’s narrowing his eyes.

“I’m not scared.” He groans out.

“Right…” You’re smiling as you pat his shoulder and begin walking up the stairs to your door, you turn and say, “I promise I’ll try and be less of a pain in the ass about it…” And then you walk inside. He smiles and puts the van into drive and he makes his way over to the trailer across from yours.

He passes out the second his head hits his pillow. But he’s definitely gonna hold you to that promise.

[oncewild]

the outrage in the reblogs and replies questioning how much people who do this like to read are funny because ultimately this comes down to preference and why a person reads. skimming -- and specifically reading first and last sentences of a paragraph and looking for signals (like quotations) that might indicate particularly relevant informaton -- are techniques people are taught in grad school when you can't closely read everything you're assigned. this is also a skill and reading tool.

are people forced to read? no. they could probably take their time and read carefully if they're not on a deadline to return a book or whatever. but there are so many interesting books out there, & it's not hard to imagine some people feel pressed to get through their TBR pile or are so excited to know what's happening next that they skim to find out faster. I'd find it hard to believe that none of the folks in the replies read less carefully when the plot reaches its peak.

is it a good reading practice? not really. is skimming probably why some people leave genuinely headass reviews on goodreads or whatever? i'd imagine. is practicing your literacy skills why you read? probably not.

most of us read because we like stories. & it's goofy to act as if booktok invented skimming (which was obviously invented by middle schoolers assigned yet another book from the dead white guy lit book list that hasn't changed in 60 years). there are absolutely benefits to training our brains and bodies to read closely for a sustained amount of time and then going back to reflect on what we've read, but most of us aren't doing that with everything we read anyways. sometimes we're just out there to enjoy a story.

I love to read. I've taught dozens and dozens and dozens of children how to read over my years of teaching, and even more adults how to read in a second or third language. but the way people talk about literacy tends to be deeply reactionary, ignores the value of orality, and misses a lot of literacy's value.

Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?

[ennn]

Jac Schaeffer on Agathario, Rio as Nicky's dad, Rio' scar speech

Some highlights from the Jeff Goldsmith Podcast.

Jeff: That brings us obviously speaking of relationships to Agatha and Rio, you have a very interesting foundation and I know if stuff was cut, you wouldn't be able to speak exactly on some of it, but I'm curious, was there more there? It's good to leave your audience wanting more. And people have speculated as to whether or not there was more of a flashback between them and more of their history.

Jac: There was more in the writer's room. There was never any more on the page. We sort of, it was our story instinct, I would say, that getting too far into their backstory would sort of be too much of a counterweight to the Nicky material. And so we really included what we felt was vital to this chapter. But we, we certainly talked about it at great length of how they met and what their relationship was and what it looked like in happier times and all of that.

And I didn't anticipate that the shippers would be so fervent that there would be, you know– and I–it feels foolish for not ��� you never know how anything is gonna land and you never know if people are gonna care.

And the amount that people care is staggering to me. And it's my hope that in the MCU there's more unpacking of the Agatha and Rio backstory.

Jeff: You were talking about the shipping group, like was there ever anything about Nicholas's father or is there any credence to the concept that it could have been born as the love child between these two?

Jac: Yes. I mean, we talked about a lot of different versions of who is the father of Nikki. And we ultimately decided that for Agatha's story, it wasn't relevant to the story we were trying to tell and we didn't really wanna get into the weeds of if it was magical or, y'know – that's again – it's sort of more rules.

We certainly considered the idea that Rio is the father. I wonder if I should ask the writers if they sort of still hold that in their hearts. It's something that I certainly thought about a lot and, and like to sort of contemplate. I enjoy that it is left to fan interpretation.

I also feel that I know how the MCU works and I don't think it serves anybody to sort of for me as the creator to emphatically tell you something that isn't on screen. Because, you know, like I said, it's my hope that these stories continue.

So, so perhaps there is a later chapter that will address this, but I, but I will say that, that when we were casting, sometimes we were like, "Does that kid look like Rio? Does that kid look like Aubrey Plaza?"

Jeff: So it's a path that, that is...

Jac: Fans and viewers, yes, are– I think they're picking up on our brainwaves for sure.

Jac: [on the toughest scenes to do] And then Rio's like little speech by the campfire was really hard.

So Giovanna Sarkees wrote a beautiful monologue that was quite long. And then it was one of those things that on the day Aubrey was doing it, and it wasn't Aubrey's fault, but it just wasn't clicking. It didn't feel right for what Aubrey had brought to the role. There's so much economy in what Aubrey does, you know, like she accomplishes so much with her physicality and her very being, that this long speech just felt wrong to me.

And I changed it on the day –which is always a risk – I changed it in the moment and the "she is my scar" I came up with, watching her do that.

[reds-skull]

CW FLASHING IN THE VIDEO (3rd from the bottom)

This is it. 3 months in the works, the comic (and video) are finally done.

A little over a year ago, I uploaded the first work in Revenant AU, Ghost's origin comic. I never thought I'd write a whole series for this, but I'm so glad I did. I got a whole new hobby out of it, haha.

I already began working on part 2, but this for me marks the start of it. I'm really excited to get back into this world!

Under the cut there are some comments on the comic I thought some people might be interested in (don't wanna make this post longer than it already is lol). I will upload the frames from the video separately, with comments on it there.

Bottom line is, thank you for letting me just go wild with this :)

Okay, I'm mostly gonna talk about the part where Fate shows Makarov the 141+Farah. Makarov doesn't see the Fate of people as literal images, he often has to interpret odd symbolism in the flashes he gets from the Weave of Fate.

I decided to go for a style I saw in a collection of calling cards in MW3, mainly from this one:

You can really see it in the faces and pitch-black cel shading.

I'll be going in order of appearance, starting with Farah.

Obviously, each of the "flashes" shows the Reaping of each person, Farah being crushed under rubble. Behind her is a helo of green gas, which symbolizes the Russian experimental gas. The motifs around her are more interesting imo - they're taken from the Urzik flag (and yeah apparently it's "Urzik" and not "Urzikstani"... according to the wiki at least). Wings, plants (feels to me like a pomegranate and some sort of crop, but I couldn't find what it is specifically), and a moon, upside down.

I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I've had the idea to make a drawing of Gaz in the Hanged Man pose since I started the AU basically. I tried sketching it once, and it went bad so I gave up lol. But I decided to come back to that here, and add some sort of tarot connection to all of them. I know practically nothing about tarot, googled the meanings of each, they fit well enough, I called it a day lol.

So Farah is the Moon, upside down.

Price is next, showing him taking control of the brain of someone. I didn't use the flag of the UK for the 141 (it'd be kinda boring...), instead I took the Taskforce 141 logo, and broke it down to different elements.

I took the laurels for Price, both framing his illustration and sitting above his head like a crown. I decided he will be the Emperor.

Next up is Gaz, the Hanged Man of course. Gaz gets both the wings and the stars (I changed mine to 4-pointed because... I like them better). Pretty clear why, both symbols relate to the sky. The illustrations kinda follow a rough day cycle, if that makes sense. Farah being night, with the moon. Price with his golden and purple color palette, twilight. Gaz being sunrise, and Ghost and Soap, day. This is why Gaz has a sun behind him.

Ghost was fun because he's the only inhuman one out of the group. I'll let you think what that implies, that even in Fate's Weave, Ghost is an outlier... Ghost gets the skull, and the card "Death". That one was easy, but what I did add is blood flowing down the skulls, like tear tracks...

Soap, the problem child, gave me the most issues as always. For once, it wasn't his fucking face, it was the flames behind him, and overall contrast and readability issues. Soap's illustration is probably packed with the most "hidden" details, though they're obvious if you've read the fic and Konchar's side story. The headless man behind Soap is Konchar himself, holding 4 chains with dog tags on them. The 4 soldiers from Soap's squad, who he killed before Soap was Reaped. Soap's pose is from the moment he came to his senses, after getting shot in the head and destroying a large part of Verdansk. He has 4 swords, pointing at him and downwards, so his card is 4 of Swords, upside down.

Between Soap and Ghost is a circle and a triangle. I'll explain that in the post concerning the video, since that's where I got that from.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! There will be another post for you to read in a moment lol

[sandwitchstories]

Monster In the Middle

Hello, Hello! Here is the next installment in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! (No real rhyme or reason here, only things they in common are Dad!Sukuna and fluff)

Authors note: Okay… Look, I know when I started this whole Daddy Duty series I swore there would be no running story but lets face it… now that we named her (Mouse), we have to keep her. So what do you guys say to more adventures in Mouse's Mini-verse?

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Summary: Sukuna has long since grown accustomed to being woken out of his sleep by any number of things. However, this is a first. His position has been usurped, and by none other than his 2 year old daughter.

WC: 750+

CW: Reader is referred to as Mama but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, he thinks she got the sass from you but he's pretty damn sassy if you ask me...

Since the first time Sukuna allowed himself to sleep beside you, he had become accustomed to waking up in a state of confusion. It occurred even more often now that his daughter was an expert at escaping wherever she was put to sleep. (He was pretty sure they couldn't build a prison that would be able to keep her inside at this point. Handy when she was older, frustrating as a toddler.)

The first time he woke in confusion was that first morning he woke up to the weight and warmth of you in his arms. The second time was confusion at your kissing him all over his face because you said (a direct quote etched into his brain forever) that he looked “beautiful.” How could a seasoned and feared warrior with his unique body traits ever forget someone calling him beautiful and meaning it with true sincerity in their eyes and heart?

But not all wake ups were so sweet. He had woken up to you loudly doing things, seemingly just to get to him to wake up. (Many years later he knew it was unintentional. It was just that you were absolutely incapable of doing things quietly.) He had woken up to you shoving him away because of something he did in your dreams. He had woken up to you licking his nose, biting his arm, and many number of other things he couldn't remember now. But suffice it to say you kept his life interesting and your daughter followed in your footsteps.

But still, this was a first... Sukuna, the over 7 foot tall, 4 armed, 4 eyed menace to society, the King of Curses and Deadly Poisons, the strongest sorcerer in history and obviously the big damn spoon was currently displaced... usurped from his rightful position in his own damn bed.

Sukuna… had become the middle spoon.

You were spooned in his arms right where you were supposed to be. But Mouse had maneuvered herself during the night to currently be attached to the back of his neck and shoulders, drooling and snoring away, apparently making baby's first attempt at being the big spoon.

He carefully reached behind himself and removed the adorable goblin before setting her down in your arms. Impressed with himself for moving her without waking her, he settled back down to go back to sleep. But seconds later his revelry was shattered. 

Tiny hands pushed at his arm and then his chest, giving him a stubborn but barely conscious glare. “Move Papa.”

“What did you say?” He asked softly, determined to at least not wake you.

“Move Papa, please,” she repeated, shoving again at his chest.

“That wasn't what I meant, Mouse.” 

If Mouse was anything, she was determined. She clamored over you, carefully for a toddler, and used her feet too. She was on a mission and she was undeterred. 

Sukuna gave up, scooting back just a little and letting her worm her way between the two of you. He watched as she settled down and closed her eyes. Spoiled rotten. That is what she was. 

He gave a little chuckle and closed his eyes. Finally. He could get back to-

“Papa.” 

Are you fucking kidding me? “What?!”

“You're doing it wrong,” his little girl said in a sleepy whine.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He stared at the back of his daughter's head with amazement. She definitely had inherited your audacity. 

Her little hand reached back and fumbled around until she found his hand resting on your hip. She grabbed onto it and pulled at one of his large fingers with her tiny hand. He was about to say something when she rested his hand on your side so his arm was draped over her too.

“Like this, Papa.” She gave a big sigh as if the weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders. “Love you, Papa…”

“And I you, little mouse,” he let out a soft chuckle. 

He rearranged his hands so one remained on your side, his large arm draped over you both, keeping the two of you close. His now free hand ran fingers gently through his daughter's pink hair that matched his own. He laid a gentle kiss to the back of her tiny head before closing his eyes.

While so far it seemed that he had only contributed his pink hair to the tiny menace now sawing logs like a 60 year old man, but he loved her just as fiercely as he loved you. His precious little chaos gremlin. Perfect in every way. Just like you.

[terribleinfluence-tour]

Let’s address the situation

Recently an anonymous reddit/twitter user has accused me of being a stalker of dan and phil because of the way this blog is run.

So, let’s talk about it.

Let’s start with the absolute facts: I have never posted anything to this blog that wasn’t public information.

1. I have never doxxed the location of the tour bus.

Things i have posted about the tour bus: a photo from a crew member where the bus company was visible, a story that Kelly posted that was location tagged to a road in the middle of nowhere showing that dan and phil weren’t in vegas on oct 19.

Reasons why I don’t believe this to be wrong: Any of you who have waited at stage door can see the company is written on the bus, it is not confidential information, knowing the bus companies name does not give you any personal information about dan and phil. As for the location tag, it was in the middle of nowhere, they were already in their next location when it was posted, I was not the first person to post this story, i only posted it cos It was already all over twitter. (however this is the only story i’ve posted that i will gladly take criticism for despite my justifications)

2. I have only posted stories from 2 crew members: Kelly and Sarah. These are public instagram accounts. I only post their stories that are related to the tour itself. I am not the only person and I was not the first person to post these stories anywhere. I have never posted anything from any crew who have private accounts because 1) i can’t see that content cos I obviously do not follow those accounts and 2) i don’t post private information, it’s private for a reason.

I did not seek out the crew accounts, i didn’t not look for them myself, i only knew what they were because multiple people had already been posting the stories from the accounts way before me on both twitter and tumblr. Both these people know phannies follow them on instagram, they’re not going to post anything with information they don’t want you to know.

Despite my justifications, from now on I will be cropping out the usernames of these crew members who do share stuff publicly and in captions i will only be referring to them as crew.

3. Audio Recordings.

First disclaimer: I have never encouraged video recording of the show! I think that it’s distracting to dan and phil and i really think you should be living in the moment when you see this show. There is a reason we have never posted videos of the show on this blog even in our spoiler tag. I believe audio recording to be more harmless because you can just put your phone out of the way and it’s distracting no one at all.

The concept of sharing audio recordings of the show were not my idea, this started on the european leg of the tour by people on twitter, If you look back at the recordings i have posted you’ll see that all the europe audios (apart from antwerp) do not link to our google drive. I did decide to carry this on during the American leg.

I have never forced anyone to do this, I have only approached 1 person directly to see if they could record. The rest were all volunteers who saw my posts asking if anyone would do it and they all came to me on their own accord.

I very much understand the criticism on audio recording shows, however I want to look at this from not only a preservation effort but also as a way to make this show accessible to people who might for whatever reason not be able to attend as well as it being a way for you to go and listen to the show you attend again if you wanted to.

This being said I am no longer going to ask for specific shows and instead say that if you just happen to audio record a show and would be willing to let me post it then you can message me (@danrifics ) and i will post it. (this goes for the australian leg and the UK leg too) I will also at the end of the tour make a post with what’s missing and we’ll see if anyone recorded or not.

Finally I want to thank everyone for their continued support of the blog and its archiving efforts and I hope you all stick with me while we change things a little bit and I look forward to continuing to share content with you all and I can’t wait to reveal a few blog pages we’ve been working on!

- Bethanie

[redvexillum]

OH. MY. STARS. 🌠 This was a wild ride. Holy Smoly. I have words (but like since when do I don't?)

This story took my breath away and spun me right into the underworld of FEELS. It’s like I’m caught in a maelstrom of Alastor’s intense, electrifying allure and the reader's total deer-in-the-headlights horror (or is it excitement?) – I can’t decide which is more delicious! The agonized screams from outside the bar? Perfect setup! Alastor’s nonchalant, scheming aura just simmering under the surface, while he eyes the reader like they’re the last morsel in Hell's buffet… I’m SCREAMING! 😱💀

And let’s talk about that tension. The way Alastor slips out of the shadows, chin barely brushing the reader’s shoulder – my heart almost stopped right there! How does he manage to be so simultaneously terrifying and charming?! And then, BAM, he pulls this innocent “Oh, but wouldn’t you rather avoid the rain?” bit with a sly invitation to his own personal bayou – a setup that is, obviously, a one-way ticket to more trouble than anyone should be able to handle.

AND CHARLIE!!! Sweeping in with that precious encouragement, giving Alastor the perfect excuse to lure the reader in deeper! You just know there’s no escaping his plans once you’re in that swampy paradise of his, especially when he starts calling the reader "Doe." I AM MELTING. 🥵

And those details! The subtle scent cues driving him wild, the way he smells her not-fear but something else entirely—I practically melted with every little hint of his inner struggle not to just devour her. It’s honestly unhinged how much this story plays with both their senses, building tension with every brush of his fingers and shift of his voice into static. His smugness over her denial? Dead. It’s so obvious how hard he’s trying to maintain control, just barely, and that’s exactly why we’re HERE for this devilishly slow burn. 😩🔥

Can we talk about that moment when she tries to deny her attraction, and he just—loses that grin? The way the tentacles (!!!) come into play and his claws trace her skin? It’s so well-paced, we’re practically there with her, barely able to breathe, wanting to keep denying everything while knowing it’s utterly useless. He’s so unrelenting, towering over her, taking her senses one by one, making her every nerve scream. And then that final assault on her last defenses… that kiss, the teasing, the tension and her inevitable fall… I was actually a puddle. 😭💖

OOF AND THEN THE way he teases and denies, and that touch of magic adding layers upon layers to the scene—it's like he’s literally weaving himself into every fibre of their being. Not only are the details here tantalizing, but they are so immersive I could feel each shiver, each restraint, each bit of delicious torment. And don't even get me started on the language in this; it’s positively sinful. Every line had me on edge.

And THAT ending? The fact that after all that pleasure, all that surrender, the reader is just beginning to realize the depth of their bond to Alastor… that they’re now forever his? I am LIVING for it! Pure obsession.

Alastor x FReader.

CW: angst, P in V sex, tentacles, biting, blood, dominance (Alastor), submission (Reader), ropes, bondage, punishment, spanking, breath play, sensory play, sensory deprivation, hard sex, multiple orgasms, sensory overload, edging overstimulation, crying, friction burn from ropes. (Small amount of breeding kink if you squint) (Use of a noose, but not in the way you think, Alastor's basically a sassy bitch).

(+ aftercare for 'reader').

Word Count: 9240.

Forever Bound.

The agonised screams as acid rain hits the sizzling flesh of the sinners caught in the raging storm outside, the pleasant burn of full-bodied rye as it slides smoothly down his throat, the smell of acrid tobacco drifting across the bar from Husk’s filthy habit, and the sight of Angel Dust once again trying to tease and sexually harass the aforementioned bartender.

All of these things were a vague awareness for Alastor as he idly drums his claws on the split woodgrain of the conjured drinking booth he sat at for privacy, eyeing you from across the room with as much subtlety as a bull in a China shop.

You piqued his interest, always so avoidant of him, except for when there was no escape, then you were utterly caustic with him. Alastor found this to be unusual behaviour, you were so affable with the others... skittish, but affable... so why did he always seem to rub you the wrong way, granted he was a powerful overlord, but he’d seen you speak with Rosie just fine.

Cute, was one word he’d often thought of when he enjoyed riling you up, your fuzz getting even fuzzier, especially your tail, oh he so adored teasing you, your look of utter fury despite being so very small, and your tail, oh your tail... his own tail was easily hidden away, secreted from the others, but your tail was much too magnificent for that, long, flat, wide, with a delightful curl at the end, and a divine reddish colour.

It was rather striking, Alastor smiled to himself as he contemplated and schemed about how best to invade your personal space today, purely to enjoy the sight of your tail frizzing up and eyes dart about while you tried to find an exit, he wondered if you would try to literally climb to get away from him this time, just like the other day when you'd scrambled up the banister of the main staircase, oh that had been most entertaining.

As he stewed in his scheming he listened to your laughter as Vaggie explained how she and Charlie had gone to the store yesterday only to meet a sinner who had fallen face first into the bag of rice they had been toting once they saw the Princess of Hell doing a regular grocery shop, Vaggie had been beside herself in tears of laughter while the ‘kind’ Charlie had helped the ‘poor’ sinner out, she had even bought his groceries for him.

Alastor swirled his rye a bit before knocking back the rest of the drink with a satisfied crackle of static, glass thudding back down on the table, his eyes still affixed to you and the way your cherub like cheeks looked adorable when you smiled... that sight alone was what forced him to act, his own smile curling higher, perhaps it was a little too much rye that forced his hand, but he wouldn’t regret his next actions if it got him what he needed from you.

Your attention soul.

Drawing on the wispy feeling of his umbrakinesis he traverses through the shadows to the unoccupied space behind you, reforming silently before bending forward so his chin hovers over your shoulder, getting as close as possible without actually touching you, mouth by your ear, your tail almost touching his pinstripe coat.

“What a delightful afternoon we’re having wouldn’t you agree Dear?” Watching in utter delight as you react to his startling presence.

Jumping in fright and almost colliding with his chin you yelp in shock; you had spied Alastor earlier but had been confident he was too busy with his jazz and rye to bother you this afternoon and had deemed it safe to stand around socialising.

You wince as you taste the sharp metallic tang of blood from biting your tongue, “I’ll be going out Vaggie,” you say nonchalantly, whilst endeavouring to ignore the demon who seems to always send a prickly electrical current through your entire nervous system whenever he comes into close proximity with you.

“Now Dear, I don’t think you would enjoy a stroll out in the acid rain right now. Perhaps, if you’d like an outdoors experience you would be thrilled to accompany my good self for a stroll, as you may be aware I do have a rather authentic bayou in my private quarters, the perfect indoor, outdoors escapade, with none of the risk of treacherous pesky weather patterns.” Alastor gestures in the direction of the lobby staircase, trying for an endearing smile.

You start to shake your head, mouth opening to politely refuse the offer, your heart racing as your nervous nature screams at you, ‘DANGER’. However, before you have the chance to decline, Charlie’s jubilant voice interrupts.

“What a wonderful idea Alastor, this is sooo awesome, oh my goodness, well done for reaching out and making an effort to be involved, I know you’ve both had your differences, and this is perfect! I think it would be excellent for the both of you to get to know one and other, oh well done Alastor, I know you don’t usually like getting involved in our redemption activities, I’m so proud of you.”

Charlie then looks at you, with those big hopeful eyes, as Alastor's grin freezes, but he doesn’t argue with Charlie, his own intentions being far less than innocent, but he refuses to let anyone know the inner workings of his mind, he almost laughs as he hears a loud scream from the city below, one more sinner clearly having reached their demise in the biting rain.

You almost recoil, your whole-body vibrating, screaming at you to escape... your instincts get ignored inevitably, the distinct scent of Alastor drifting over you, the rye on his breath, his woodsmoke, iron and musky smell fragrant and intoxicating.

You stay rooted to the spot, Charlie is technically in charge of the rehabilitation process, so if you refuse her ‘exercises’, you might get kicked out... if not by her, then the facility manager (Alastor) who is waiting with a shark like grin for your answer might take it upon himself to eject you... right out into the acid pouring outside, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you see no alternative solutions.

With a pained smile you make eye contact with Alastor, your stomach swooping, your heart palpitating, “that would be lovely, thank you for the offer,” you say through gritted teeth acquiescing to the veiled demand, you are very tempted to sprint out into the acid rain instead of being alone with the Radio Demon... being the subject of his undivided attention.

“Oh Darling, of course, think nothing of it, allow me to escort you.” Alastor holds his arm out like a gentleman, a shiver of fear prickles up your spine in response.

To Charlie’s utter exhilaration, Alastor takes your hand and threads your arm through his and marches you off towards the stairwell, your legs feel like jelly, but his stride is even, so you scramble to keep up.

You take one last desperate beseeching look at Vaggie over your shoulder, and she gives you a sympathetic shrug as Charlie practically buzzes in excitement at her side.

Alastor natters for the whole trip to the upper floors, leading you to your doom his bedroom, as you numbly look at anything but him, paying attention to the abundance of the apple decor around the hotel, anxiety spiking at an all-time high, not listening to a word he says as your mind races with potential escape plans, (your tail frizzing up from his static energy), which he notices delightedly.

You don’t notice the crackle of his radio tone cutting out briefly after he says your name for the fifth time as he tries to garner your attention, this time he says it accompanied by a tap on your nose, which makes you blink rapidly, flinching as your eyes and mind come back into focus.

His sharp grin screams peril and you react defensively, “What?” You ask rudely, annoyed at your lack of recourse.

“Oh, Dearest you are hilarious,” he mocks without bothering to repeat himself, annoying you even more. If it was so important to disturb your clearly distant thoughts, surely it should be important enough to enlighten you once your attention was actually directed at him.

You give him an impatient, unimpressed look, and he snickers again.

“We’ve arrived of course, silly Doe.”

You shake your head to clear it again, acutely aware that he had called you a ‘doe’, apt really considering you’re part squirrel, but you felt funny with the way he had uttered it, the sound full of implications, you’re also very aware he’s a buck, which seemed to be the whole reason he brought up your animalistic status, choosing to ignore the bait and not wanting to risk his wrath currently, in such an isolated situation, you nod at him.

He ushers you inside, still feeling rather dazed you take in the peculiar sight of his room, he hadn't been lying, the room certainly appeared how described previously, half bedroom, with sparse furniture, the other half of the room an extensive bayou.

Your stomach dropped; it would be very easy to hide your body in there. You idly wonder how many bodies he had hidden away in there, and just how vast it might be... is it some sort of pocket dimension...

He looks down at you observing every minute detail of your reaction, wanting to reach out and touch your fluffy tail, instead his fingers snap several times in front of your face, disturbing you from wandering thoughts yet again, the warmth of this area of the room feeling even warmer in the intimacy of being alone in his bedroom with such a beautiful little doe, one that occupies his thoughts persistently... confusingly.

“My Dear, are you quite alright.” Alastor makes a show of checking your temperature with the back of his hand, his craving to touch you overriding all other senses and you jump away from him yet again, feeling annoyed at your reaction, but he doesn’t let it show.

You nod, as he laughs at you, “I’m fine,” you don’t back down, wanting to get this over with as fast and painlessly as possible.

So, despite your protesting body, you seize his arm and start trying to haul him off into the treeline.

It did smell rather fresh and aromatic in here, it was quite pleasant, not that you’d admit it to him.

Alastor hums amused but elated, deliberately setting a slow pace, that you cannot (try as you might) make him a shred swifter, your efforts having no effect on the much stronger overlord, to your dismay.

You exhale heavily and disengage from his arm, not allowing you freedom however, he quickly takes a hold of your hand, looping it back into the cook of his elbow again, as he continues escorting you, every step deliberate and exaggerated, making you feel outraged.

Without a word you amble together painstakingly, concentrating on anything other than the strong arm beneath your palm, the feeling of the squishy moss beneath your shoes, the rustle of a breeze (you can’t tell whether or not is artificial) in the trees and through your hair, the green and brown encircling you both on all sides, darkening as you both traverse deeper and deeper within, isolating you with him, you try valiantly to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or how pleasant awful it feels, the air thickens, your breathing growing laboured with tension.

You shiver, you hadn’t dressed for outdoor weather so were getting fairly chilly.

As you continue the odd journey undisturbed, you begin to think it felt rather nice, despite the company and the silence stretching on, and even with the warning bells ringing in your head, you start to relax infinitesimally as he appeared content to leave you undisturbed... famous last words.

“I think it would be wearisome if we keep proceeding silently my Dear, and I’ve been utterly intrigued by you for a while,” he supresses his mirth as he observes your tail frizz back up.

Static skating up your skin at the sound of his voice your body erupts in goosebumps, you try to convince yourself are unpleasant, but you can’t deny that this time it doesn’t feel so terrible, it seems after long exposure to him in the bayou, your body’s response didn’t feel like a warning, you can’t deny it, especially as it seems to evoke heat within, to your detriment you had to mentally stop yourself leaning into him to seek out more warmth.

You decide to humour him, if only to keep him talking, wanting more of the sensations.

“What has you intrigued about me... I mean I’m just a lowly sinner after all, wh-...”

“Why your aversion to me of course,” ever the diplomat, “for a while now I’ve noticed you avoiding me Little Doe, and I can’t help feeling slightly wounded by your actions, why do you treat everyone else so much more preferably? I feel perhaps that you don’t like me, not one little bit,” Alastor clutches his heart for dramatic effect.

“Well... I ermm... I just know all about you? Everyone has told me how dangerous you are, and I’d just rather keep my distance and not risk...”

“Don’t try to fool me with half-truth's Darling, there’s more you aren’t sharing, I can ascertain that for myself, or you wouldn’t flee the very sight of me when you know with certainty, I wouldn’t hurt a resident of our dear Charlie’s fine establishment... I would be a poor host indeed if I started killing off the wayward souls seeking redemption, not to mention how terribly bored I’d get when those seeking pointless help stopped turning up.” Alastor’s voice lowered dangerously the static increasing in his tone, he hates being lied to, especially by you, certainly in this moment, when he finally has you to himself, unable to spurn his company.

Alastor has found you running through his mind more and more lately, his days revolving around your routines, he tried to compromise with his unusual feelings, trying to interact with you as much as possible, yet your constant rejection persistently pains him, and now... Now he’s finally confronting you about it and you have the gall to try deceiving him with falsehood, when he can smell exactly what his presence is doing to you.

Alastor is very aware now as to how your body responds to him, his nostrils flare, the aroma he scents from you right now isn’t fear, fear is bitter, this is sweet, cloying, intoxicating, his eyes flicker to radio dials as he must take a firm hold of his self-control.

Your adrenaline spikes, and you start tugging, but you can’t get your hand free, “Alastor... I...”

“Another of your lies and you won’t appreciate the consequences Little Doe, so think before you speak, as I won’t allow another lie to go unpunished... and I want to assure you, I’ll know if you do.” Alastor uses his height to intimidate, towering over you menacingly.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your body shaking, his warmth and musk overpowering your faculties, you violently shake your head, at an utter loss for words.

Alastor chuckles at the visual, still keeping a firm deterring grip on your hand, he wouldn’t be surpised if he let go, if you proceeded by scrambling up a tree.

“You know what I think Little Doe? I think that you crave me,” Alstor’s heated body pressing closer to yours, “and you’re too terrified of your own feelings to even realise that’s precisely what you desire.”

You whimper quietly but his ignores you and presses on, his presence making you spiral, especially when he reaches to brush a strand of your hair from your face, causing all attempts to get away from him to halt as you freeze.

“Your body is responding to mine so deliciously, can’t you feel it? Every time you try escaping those feelings, you’re in denial, but I know better,” he leans down right beside your ear, a shiver running up your spine.

“I... can... smell... you,” he whispers his voice sending tingles all over you, your skin erupting in goosebumps yet again, eyes flying wide as he finishes enunciating teasingly.

You shake your head in denial, eyes wide in panic, your legs threatening to give way, and you try to fruitlessly tug at your trapped arm again, he growls deeply in warning about lying.

However, being completely overwhelmed you ignore the admonition, you can’t flee, you don’t freeze this time... so you fight... verbally.

“I’d rather be hanged again than crave anything you have to offer,” you snap, your free hand suddenly flying to your mouth in horror, you know you’ve really done it now.

His predatory smile widens, and several shadow tentacles burst menacingly from the ground, he releases his grip on you as all your limbs are restrained tightly in their grasp, one winding around your waist for support, you're hoisted into the air with ease and a fearful squeak, until you’re eye level with him, a good two feet off the ground.

“I warned you Little Doe,” Alastor growls, his claw gently tracing down your cheek leaving a tingling in its wake.

Prowling around you with growls still escaping him, once Alastor gets behind you, he tugs on your tail, your body trembling, you begin, hyperventilating, he simply flattens it out like a rug, and he shakes it like one too, several times until he makes a small satisfied hum of static, making you growl back at him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for some time now,” Alastor chuckles, calming slightly at your response, enjoying antagonising you, feeling at ease now, his tone completely lightening again at your helplessness, feeling every facet of your fear and desire from your scent alone.

“Now, about you, and your proclivity to lie to all powerful beings... well we’ve certainly got to correct that pesky behaviour for a start, I did warn you Dear that there would be punishment.”

He steps closer to you, circling back around to your front brushing against your tail and the fabric of your clothes as he goes, at least now granting you a visual on his location, you had been nearly panicking with him being behind you whilst you’re defenceless, your breathing calms slightly as he comes back into view.

You watch as his ears twitch, your cheeks flush at the cute visual, as he contemplates his next move, his grin looks paticularly malevolant as he slowly pulls off his jacket, rearranging the tentacles, he slips it over you, threading your arms through the long sleeves and shortening them with his magic so the tentacles can wind back around your wrists... You’re bound again, admittidly much warmer, but now engulfed in his heady scent, and it instantly drives you crazy.

You can’t believe how good that smell is to your senses, you feel a flood of heat in your tummy and underwear, you try to clear your head, but your nose just wants to bury itself into the warm heaven wafting upwards.

Alastor smirks when your cheeks flush even darker, knowing full well what’s happening as his body had been releasing pheramones for a while now in reaction to your arousal.

You feel lightheaded as he stops inches from your face, “Ready to admit it?”

You shake your head again, but don’t even notice how you didn’t protest to the fact that there is something to admit.

He dramatically sighs but looks utterly gleeful, he clicks his fingers and more tentacles spawn, ascending your legs, making you whimper and squirm, they ghost up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties under your skirt, but withdraw at the last moment, skirting back down your legs maddeningly, stroking all the exposed sensitive flesh they can find.

Your temperature seems to raise even higher as now touch comes into play, and so as a twist he decides to deprive you of a sense this time, taking off his bowtie he gets a tentacle to hold your head still, and binds the tie over your eyes, and everything goes dark.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you all wrapped up just for him, vulnerable, and whimpering, he would think you’d panic at what he just did, but it only seemed to turn you on more as his sensitive nose picks up a fresh wave of sweet floral heat from you.

He continues his control, gliding the tentacles he commands silently all over you, as you try to take utterly pointlessly shallow breaths trying to not breathe in his scent as you dangle in mid-air, the scent heady and making you feel drunk, but with every gasp and whine you inhale more and more.

His tentacles driving you insane as you are unable to anticipate where any of them are coming from or going next, the blindfold making you jumpy, your knickers are drowned at this point, yet the refusal of the tentacles to touch anywhere you actually need them to has you utterly quivering and unable to hold in your rising sounds of need and protest.

Alastor leans his cane against a tree, feeling utterly buoyant as he hums a tune, marking another sense off his internal list, making sure you will break completely and perfectly for him, the power making his cock twitch in interest.

Only one left he thinks gleefully, so he uses his powers to keep the tentacles going, as his microphone begins to play one of his favourite jazz tunes so you won’t hear him approaching, this final sense he’ll have to do himself, but because of everything else so far, he knows just from your delightful sounds, this is what will tip you over the edge.

He has noted you haven’t once said no, or asked him to stop, but he does keep in mind that if you utter those words, he will respect them, a bastard he may be, but he’s not that sort of demon, in fact he notices you haven’t said anything since he took control, he tries to determine if it’s fear of him, or fear of your own feelings, too scared to ask for more, too cowardly to admit you like it.

Adjusting himself with his hand, he moves so he can feel your body heat radiating off you, getting close enough he has to hold his breath, he raises a finger and traces its tip across your lips, dragging it along the seam and your whole body shudders, you moan to his utter delight, he withdraws his finger as your tongue comes out trying to catch it, all the confirmation he needs, and while you groan in displeased agony he crashes his lips onto yours.

His tongue plundering and dancing with yours as you sigh in bliss, finally getting some real contact, the taste of him so deliciously enticing you don’t even think twice about reciprocating, your tongue eagerly venturing out to meet his.

Every touch, every lap of his tongue against yours is a shock to your system in the darkness of the makeshift blindfold, his hands maddeningly never once straying to your body as the tickling and stroking of the tentacles increases, sending shivers all over your body, his scent still a vast ocean around you, the sound of jazz not nearly loud enough to ground you, when you moan into his mouth you feel him smirk as he withdraws yet again and you nearly cry out for him, your legs trembling against the appendages wrapped around them as even more slide up your back as you desperately try to lean forward seeking him out blindly.

He chuckles, sensing victory is near, you yelp as you feel your tail tugged on again, already overly sensitive from the teasing and heightened sensations of being plunged into darkness, your skin burning with static from the energy he exudes, you felt like a live wire about to spark. You can feel the fluids literally running down your leg, the barrier of your knickers doing nothing anymore.

His alluring voice sounds in your right ear once more, “Ready to confess Pet?”

You whimper, your senses on high alert, you turn you head toward where you can hear him, another stronger waft of his scent has you weak, wanting fulfillment, your pussy swollen, dripping and aching, you moan again, your brain not functioning at full capacity as you can’t comprehend what he’s talking about.

You shiver again the tentacles never ceasing their torment, he laughs as he watches you pout trying to lean toward him for more stimulation.

“Soon Little Doe,” Alastor promises, “First you must admit why you’ve been running away from me and being a mean Little Pet to me for months now.” He boops your nose startling you, making him laugh once more.

“Tell me Dear One, what do I do to you that makes you literally climb banisters to flee my presence.”

You whimper for another moment you pussy spasming, clenching around thin air desperately, you’d given up trying to avoid his smell and embraced drinking it in greedily now, if he could see your eyes, he would barely be able to see the coloured rings of them.

“Y-you,” you take yet another deep breath, your whole body vibrating like a tuning fork as you try to writhe and buck agaisnt the tentacles to no avail. “You, make me wet, fuuuck... Alastor, please... I’ve been avoiding you... because everything about you sets off every instinct inside me... and, and, and... it scares me... but fuck it makes me horny so badly...”

“Oh really? And what pray tell do you do when I make you horny, other than flee?” He grins, using his breath to send goosebumps all over your neck as he tickles your ear with it, blowing gently.

“Please... Al...” You cry out more impatient than ever before, “stop teasing, I beg of you...”

“Ha, no.” Alastor laughs at you, and you nearly cry at the torment, your whole body getting no reprieve from the writhing mass stimulating you.

Gasping as one lingers for longer near your mound this time, you hasten to answer hoping for relief, “I run to my room, and I fuck myself on my fingers until I cry your name... Please Al, oh fuck please!” Tears sliding down your face.

The world seems to shift around you, you feel almost car sick, the blindfold is ripped from your face, you blink rapidly against the now blinding brightness, he’s petting your hair soothingly and you realise you’re both back in the more ‘normal’ portion of his bedroom, a wrought iron bed dominating the area, you were sure that wasn’t there when you’d entered.

He cups your face before you can regain anymore sense and kisses you fiercely in reward, granting you a boon for your honesty, you moan eagerly, clutching at his body, not even noticing the tentacles had freed you as you wrap yourself around him pleadingly, almost dry humping him as he snogs you soundly, drawing out your tongue to suck on, making you moan yet again.

“There’s a good Pet... now that you’ve finally admitted it to yourself, we can get down to business... and I’m not through with you yet Little Doe, but first your punishment.”

You groan in protest, but he silences you with a look, his sharp grin predatory, threatening, and despite your desperate need your body and mind react instinctively, deferring to him automatically, accepting your fate a little too willingly for your tastes, but what were you to do?

You lower your head, tilting to the side in submission, he growls in approval.

“You were cruel Little Doe, and I want your penance, or I will make it so you cannot cum for a week.”

You maddened with lust and need by now nearly scream in frustrated fear, shaking your head manically, making him laugh again, his scent making you lean toward him again wanting nothing more than to get lost in him, devour every iota of him and be devoured in return.

“Fine, do it... punish me, please... please don’t leave me like this... I’ll do anything.” You beg him frantically, your body aflame.

“There’s my good Little Doe,” Alastor says light-heartedly, scratching you behind your small, pointed ears.

He snaps his fingers and without further ado you’re plunged back into darkness, you feel suddenly chilly and vulnerable as the cool air hits your skin all at once, you have no moment to react to your sudden exposure as you feel yourself dragged and sprawled on your stomach over a strong pair of warm, furry thighs.

Immediately you realise what’s going to happen and a new flood of unimpeded slick drenches your own thighs to his utter delight, he takes a moment to run a slim digit up the inside of your thigh, gathering the juice making you shiver and press into his hand with a needy whine.

He hums in approval when he tastes you for the first time, the sound of pleasure from him causing another jolt to your core despite being unable to see him, he exaggerates the wet licking sounds for your benefit, watching your reactions keenly.

“Delicious... Now, two strikes for every month of avoidance and pain you’ve caused me, and another five on top for your lies and cruel remarks earlier, so a grand total of fifteen,” he says in a husky growl, you can even hear his smile, it was malicious.

You wait, flinching with every breeze ghosting your backside.

He entertains himself for several moments just watching you tense, writhing and trying to anticipate his actions, so instead he idly runs his fingers up and down your back soothingly, the fur of your tail brushing the back of his hand.

He planned keep it up for a while, except the sight of you so helpless yet willing and pliant has him unable to hold back for much longer, needing to take from you what he wants most so he can figure out why you affect him so strongly, and to stop you from ever being able to leave, watching your pleasure has him harder than he’s ever been in his life, the power over you has him feeling things he’s never felt before, and he’s too far gone to even begin unravelling what it signifies.

An almost imperceptible swish and you hiss as the sting on your backside jolted you with slight shock more than pain.

“Count, and thank me each time, or I shall begin again each time.” Instructional, his voice betraying no emotion.

You nod blindly, with a yelp as the next sting burns, your bum flinching away causing your hips to grind against his thigh, and you realise your error, “One, thank you Alastor.”

“Master,” he corrects, wanting you to get accustomed to the idea.

“Master,” you parrot obediently, already a sopping leaking mess, Alastor’s thigh getting wet already.

You tremble in his lap, hyper aware of the hard thick rod pressing into your tummy.

In your distraction another swish and an audible slap, you wince, a groan escaping your throat, “Two, thank you A-Master.”

The warning growl to not make the error again has you squirming on him, and the next swift smack comes even harder, your arse begins to throb, heating up from the abuse as you can’t stop your audible reactions either, grunting louder in pain.

SMACK, you cry out in pain as the next strike hurts, tears start forming again, wetting the blindfold further, you choke out the gratitude, “T-three, thank you Master.”

The next he has mercy from you enduring and obeying on the last so well, the spank being not so hard, but you still feel it smart, “Four, thank you Master.”

You moan as you feel him pry your cheeks open, his probing gaze upon your revealed shame, you hear him inhale deeply, all your cheeks burning now, as he sniffs at your arousal, teasing you with just his breath lightly blowing on your tensing desperate holes.

You hear him growl yet again and you moan, arching your back, trying to tempt him, to no success as he swiftly gets right back to managing your punishment.

This goes on smoothly for the next nine spanks, your legs a drenched mess, you’re limp and sobbing on his lap as you shakily count the thirteenth strike, he sooths the burn with gentle rubs on your behind for a few moments, letting you gather yourself together, giving you a chance to not mess this up, to your immense gratitude.

Obviously, it’s a tactic on his end to endear him to you for showing ‘mercy’ but you're too cock desperate to even think that far.

“Almost done pet, you’re doing so well,” he praises admiring the darker colour of your beaten arse with awe. “Just two more, then I’ll take good care of you Little Doe.”

Sniffling you nod bracing yourself, tears streaming down your face, yet with every hit the heat in your groin had built to an unbearable precipice, not to mention the occasional tease of him stopping to enjoy the view of the flood exiting your hot and ready cunt.

You feel ready to just mount his leg (if you could get the angle right) and rub yourself silly on him, coating him in your essence, wanting to feel his thatch of fur soaked between your thighs, marking him like a bitch in heat.

“You smell, delicious.” His voice sounds gravelly, betraying his desire for the first time.

Catching you completely off guard, his tone and words make you moan louder than before, your hips jolting as your core pulses strongly, your body trying to find any source of friction, his hand keeping your thighs from rubbing together, your pussy trying to milk the air again.

Finally, you realise your eyes had been unimpeded, for you weren’t sure how long, you had just realised the lack of tear saturated cloth when he uses a gentle claw tipped finger to your face toward him so he can watch you, his crimson eyes burning your very soul.

“Such a pretty Little Doe,” Alastor purrs his praise at you, his eyes dark, his antlers large, his smile still screaming doom at you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when all you want is that grin peering up at you from between your thighs as you ride his face.

The loud clap and burn of the next blow has you crying out even louder the shock and power of it making your eyes close, your head straining to escape his grasp, he absorbs every facet of your reaction with rapture.

“AHHH... fo-fourteen, th-thank you... mmmaster,” you manage to stammer out, weeping from more than once place on your body.

The soft texture of his fur had been rubbing your nipples the whole time until they became hardened peaks, added to the burn of your arse and the insistent throb of your hot wet cunt, you were at the point of overwhelming sensory overload, feeling utterly deranged, in your crazed state you almost miss the final strike.

The pain zinging through your entire being, “Fif-teen, thank y-you, master,” you pant, your arse glowing like hot coals, you realise it’s over, almost feeling disappointed, but all you can focus on is the hard cock you just felt under your abdomen twitch.

He smooths his hand over the raw flesh of your arse soothing the pain, but your pussy was having none of it, throbbing even harder... more painful than your arse at this point. “Please...” You whimper, rubbing against him.

“My what a needy little slut you are Pet... I should have done this months ago.” Alastor’s radio crackle reducing to almost human sounding, made you shiver and moan again.

He sounded utterly euphoric, and you feel the flood still trailing down your thighs, you're surprised you both aren’t swimming neck deep by now with the copious amount drizzling out of you, forget the storm outside, the real storm he created himself between your legs.

Lifting your limp form gently and using his tentacles to arrange you.

You whine your body not responding to your commands as with ease he lays you on the bed, your sore bum protesting, your tail trapped under you, “Trust me Dear, with the state your beautiful little derrière is in, on the soft bedding is the best place for it right now... but fret not, you’ll soon forget it was ever sore in the first place.”

“Mas-mmm...” you try your body reaching its limit for tolerance.

He chuckles, pleased by the sight of your debauched state of utter glory, spread out before him, barely able to move.

You feel the chafing of rope wrapping around your wrists tightly dragging them together and up over your head, you look up in surprise as you see a noose tying around your wrists, you glace back at him in shock, a devilish smirk on Alastor's face.

“Wouldn’t want to make all your lies valid, and deprive you of a treatment from the gallows you so wished for now would I... after all...” his jubilant voice lowers as he crawls over your body, his clothes brushing against your skin, “apparently a rope is more desirable than my...” leaning close to your ear, licking the shell, “cock,” he enunciates making you moan and buck your hips up against him, groaning in frustration.

“Please Al-... Master...” you whine needily, sweat beading on your forehead from the stress of feeling so hollow, and swollen, your puffy pussy dark with flush, soaked and sensitive.

“Such a pretty, little pet, needy for your master’s cock Little Doe?” He holds back as you whine.

“Prove you want it, prove you need me, make me believe your repentance and I might just show you mercy” he leans closer, his weight baring down on you, pinning your body down, every inch of him pressed against you.

Your nerve endings reacting violently to the proximity as usual, even with him motionless your body feels feral with need, you want to claw at him, make him bury deep inside you so you don’t know where you begin and he ends, you want his cock so badly it hurts, nothing else matters in this moment.

You, however, can’t even react, you don’t know how, with your hands bound, your body pinned, and in this utter state of overwhelm, completely at his mercy, thoroughly insensible from his continued assault on your senses.

“Please... Please... Master...” You whine, keening as you feel the tips of his fingers gliding through your soaked pussy in reward, moaning, your eyes rolling as he finally touches you, the pleasure making you buck your hips to demand he rubs you harder.

“What would you do for me? To have my cock... to make you cum? What would you do...?”

You miss the warning signs, drunk on his scent and touch, all instincts making you arch into him, your hands tugging on the restraints, burning your wrists on the harsh rope.

Alastor’s smile is almost deranged as he awaits your predictable response knowing how much he’s gotten to you, knowing everything he desires is moments from his grasp.

“Anything, please, just anything, please Alastor, I’ll do anything, just take me, take me now...” You thrash about.

“Then give me your soul... or I shall leave you here tied up; I won’t lay another finger on you again if you don’t, I promise, but if you do give me what I want, I’ll make sure you cum so much, you won’t remember your own name.” his fingers rubbing circles on your aching clit as he says this to drive you further into the depths of your depraved state, finally giving you a balm to satiate, tease and further distract.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, just please.” The words barely register as you beg, moaning, tugging at the harsh restraint again, feeling as though you may die again if he leaves you like this now.

One of your hands is magically released and you quickly grasp at his outstretched hand now he's sat up straddling you, your wetness coating his fingers as your hand clings to them, he leads the action himself shaking your hand and there's a burst of green that you pay no mind to, the static that seems to fill your very blood gets ignored too as you try to cling to his collar next, trying to drag him back down onto you.

“Ah, ah, pet,” Alastor says, feeling the weight of the bond settle in his chest cavity, almost singing with glee.

Alastor rebinds your hand with a wave of his and the reappearance of a tentacle to enact his will, before getting up as you shout in protest.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head now Dear,” he taunts slightly as he uses his magic to swiftly divest the rest of his own clothes, you get a glimpse of wet thigh and his heavy bobbing cock before your vision is obscured again.

Whining turns to moaning as you feel his knee pushing between your legs, spreading you even wider, your head rising from the pillow trying to predict his actions again, your nose still full of woodsmoke, iron, musk and now your own arousal from the copious amount staining the bed.

The darkness consumes you as your vocal pitch gets even higher when you suddenly feel a tongue glide from perineum to clit, your entire body convulsing, your hot wet cunt pulsing, bucking your hips seeking more, your toes curling in effort.

He groans in pleasure at your taste, hip hips rutting forward instinctively.

“Fuck..” You cry out, your pussy reacting to the tongue with eagerness, that even the brief parting makes you sob.

“Language darling, no need to be vulgar,” his voice sending shockwaves through your core as he's so close he causes vibrations with his static to course through you, your body jolting with tiny electric shocks making you seep directly onto his waiting tongue.

“Please, I- ngh.. Need you,” you’re a whining mess, thrashing your head side to side, trying to dislodge the blindfold.

He ignores your plea and buries himself face first ravenously, licking and sucking every drop of ambrosia straight from the source of your unending well of lust and need, you can’t stop moaning, your legs over his shoulders as he feasts on you.

You tug harder on the ropes, wanting to bury your fingers in his hair, tug on his ears, anything, you just want to touch him so badly as your sopping cunt gets eaten like the most delicious desert feeling it pulse around his delving tongue, a spring coils tightly in your lower belly.

He moans at your taste, his cock leaking onto the sheets below him.

You cry out as he withdraws, tears falling into the blindfold again, you know why he’s tormenting you so, but you can’t take anymore.

“PLEASE!”

You feel the bed shifting, and the blissful slide of his skin against yours, dragging himself up against your nipples, licking one wetly on his ascent, his hot breath before it envelops your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue with a moan, feeling utterly blessed.

With one smooth hard thrust and a howling cry from you he's fully seated within you.

His hands push the backs of your thighs wide open, spreading you out for his desired position, your hips buck desperately for more.

Your walls compressing him as his thick hard cock stretches your clenching cunt wide, your body already feeling like it’s about to burst, absolutely burning within, every sensation heightened by your state of visual obscuration as you feel every millimetre of his cock wedged deep within you, your cunt helplessly fluttering around him already greedily trying to claim its prize.

The feel of his mouth smiling against yours as he plunders it, a frenzy of teeth and tongue, as he snaps his hips flush with yours causing an exquisite jolt within you as you cry out in ecstasy, the taste of him and your essence in your mouth as your body yields to his without opposition.

The flex of his stomach flush with yours as his hips roll in for another punishing thrust that has you throwing your head back and crying out to the heavens in rapturous relief your pussy clenching hard already as you squirt onto his busy pelvis, his thatch of fur soaking through, he groans picking up speed and force, intensifying your release as your pussy contracts rhythmically, squeezing him for all it’s worth, his skin slapping yours as he doesn’t let up.

He growls through gritted teeth, biting his tongue to keep him from spilling deep within you already, the feel of your pleasure almost too much for him.

“Just look at you, you were such a sassy little thing, and now...” Alastor grunts with effort, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, as your pussy spasms and squirts once more with a stuttered cry for you as he eases you through it again with his toiling cock.

Your body convulsing as the rope burns your wrists from the effort. Alastor’s hands moving from your thighs to your hips for better control and power to his demanding thrusts. Your loud moans never ceasing.

His skin and fur is soaked with your early release, “... Well now, you are a work of art... So weak, so pathetic, so mine... My dear you’ve never looked more glorious.” His hips not once slowing their pace as he delves deeply, his cock hitting places inside you that you never knew existed.

His cock exploring your blazing channel as your cunt spasms, burning at the stretch of being so filled by such an impressive being, with every inch of his large hungry cock that fills you, you feel as though nothing could make your body return to its state before the fucking of your entire lifetime... or death, the bed creaking ominously as he pounds away at you making sure you get thoroughly addicted to him.

Every pulse, every drag, every whine, and groan, a blur of pleasure, pain and desperation.

You plead with him as his hands glide all over your vulnerable exposure, memorising your curves, palming your round breasts, tweaking at the darkened peaks of your sensitive mounds.

“FUCK!” You cry out as you feel something not his finger begin to stimulate your clit while he ruts fiercely away at you.

Completely blind you’ve no idea what it is that has latched onto your swollen clit, only that your trembling legs begin to tense once more already, he withdraws his mouth leaving yours free for his audio entertainment and enthral him you did with every exquisite gasp and moan.

Blinded literally and figuratively with the pleasure making your brain short circuit at his bruising pace as he nibbles at your neck, your whole body arching as you cry out and convulse once more.

The wet slapping of drenched skin ceaseless, the burning of your wrists ignored over the burning throbbing of your cunt, your legs aching as you try to keep them raised and spread needing him deeper and deeper, wanting nothing more than to be filled to the brim by him, and never let him out.

Each beat of his cock stretching your channel in every direction, hitting your cervix with agonised pleasure as he makes sure to go balls deep with every thrust, feeling as though your very guts are being rearranged.

Alastor concentrates on making sure every inch of him is imprinted deep inside of you, desiring to be unforgettable, moaning as well as he feels the saturated warmth of you clutching at him, trying to drag him back in as he tries to thrust.

Desperately your arms tugs relentlessly, trying to find purchase on him needing to hold on to anything, any part of him... He denies you however and you sob as the ropes do more damage, but the overwhelming pleasure overrides all sense of self preservation as your squirting pulsing pussy gets ruined.

You feel another pair of hands supporting your legs startling you as his hands hadn’t stopped fondling you, exploring every inch of your body, they felt colder than his hands but no less substantial, you realise it’s his shadow when it feels like it’s pressed under your tail too.

You can’t think about it though as with a growl his teeth clamp down on the side of your neck and he sucks a bruise into your flesh teeth pricking your skin, you moan once more, the new sensation adding to the invasion of your senses.

“Scream for me Dear, relief is earned not given my Little Doe... scream for me,” With a sharp twist on your nipple, his thrusts bullying your stomach internally with every throb and rub and twitch, the sucking sensation on your clit increases to a painful capacity.

You break.

Screaming his name “ALASTOR!” you wail through your third release absolutely bathing him in your squirt, his cock making shluck sounds with every thrust as he finally gives in to his own release.

Bottoming out hard inside you once more and squeezing your tits tightly as you feel every part of him pulsing and flooding deep inside you, his hips slamming into yours, filling you to capacity, pumping every single pulse of seed inside you, making sure you take every single drop as he lifts your hips, using gravity to aid him, fucking his cum in you with his cock head, burying it firmly and making sure none escapes as he looks down at the absolute mess he’s made of you.

Alastor observes in satisfaction the blindfold still secure but drenched in tears, your skin flushed, soaked and bruised, the bite on your neck trickling warm blood down your clavicle, your legs spasm frequently from overstimulated relief, your pussy stretched wide over his still twitching cock, your wrists raw from the noose still binding them, and your entire body limp, the rapid rise and fall of your chest the only indication that you’re still conscious.

Gently he reaches to remove to blindfold, you blink against the stark change of brightness.

Eventually your eyes focus on the awe inspiring Radio Demon, his smiling look of utter smug pride as he catches his breath makes your pussy clench around him again making you whine from sensitivity, your head still quite dizzy, your body feeling heavy, it’s all you can do to not pass out.

Cooing at you, he releases your wrists from their restraints and rolling you both onto your sides he cradles you to his chest petting your hair whispering praise as he holds your wrists up for inspection, “Such a beautiful little Pet, you did so well, I’m right here, don’t you worry, I take care of what’s mine.”

There’s a green burning glow again and you feel your wrists smart once more before the pain dulls and you slump in relief against him.

Moaning as his cock shifts inside your abused hole, he chuckles and starts humming soothingly, helping you adjust and come down from your ordeal.

His own state a stark contrast to yours, he seems almost energised as he takes care of you, rubbing your back, kissing the top of your head as your legs stays slung over his waist as he slowly softens inside you, both of you dripping from your release, but you don’t have the mental faculty to be embarrassed over your particular penchant for squirting, nor his talent on seamlessly drawing it out of you.

Finally when he deems you recovered enough he scoops you up and heads to the bathroom to clean you both up, sliding gently out of your warmth making the pair of you groan, he gives you another kiss to ease you again.

The sound of his pleasure makes your heart flutter, he traverses the distance easily on his long sturdy legs, the shower already running, he steps inside the warm flow of water with you still cradled in his arms rinsing you both off as best as he can.

“Such a pretty little Doe, my perfect little pet, you felt so good wrapped around me, knew exactly how much you needed me... All this time, who knew you could be so good for me.” He seemed to narrate everything that happened, how delightfully responsive you were and how he can’t wait to see you cum for him again and again.

Your head rests on his chest still shaking from overstimulation, your pussy still sore and pulsing as he uses his tentacles to hold you and his hands to clean you, you listen to him far more than you had earlier when you’d been absconded upstairs by him, but taking no more of it in than before in your well fucked state.

Once you’re both clean he keeps you in the tentacles gentle, secure hold as he grabs towels for you both, and the sight of his little fluffy tail wagging is what caused you to sober up enough to regain your senses.

The flash of green when he had to conjure towels makes you gasp as your memory comes back to you... Your hand jumping to your chest as though to grasp at your very soul as you remember what you did.... All for the sake of sex with Alastor... Damn good sex but still... How the hell did he manage that?

Your heart races in panic as he returns to you wrapping you up so carefully to dry you, you can’t help but feel affection for him and of how tender he’s being caring for you.

He finishes drying you both, the smell of him all the more potent now your dripping squirt had been cleansed from both of your skin and fur.

He carries you back into the bedroom, tucking you into now clean, dry, soft bedding.

Getting in beside you he pulls you gently into his arms, hushing you when you attempt to speak, scratching behind your ears, making your eyelids go heavy and you almost purr.

He conjures you a glass of water and holds it steady as he helps you drink, your hands still too shaky to cope.

“We’ll talk about it all tomorrow.” Alastor says softly intuitively knowing what the look in your eyes meant, seeing the fear, doubt and questions, his smile softens, seeming almost genuine, he vanished the glass and gathers you in close, pressing another softer kiss to your lips, utterly pleased with the results of today, thankful for the storm outside as he finally got everything he wanted.

“Goodnight my perfect Little Doe.”

Your eyes drift closed, his warmth and scent addictive, comforting to your overworked muscles as he rubs your back soothingly, maybe you were wrong about the risks of being infatuated with him... But still your soul? What were you going to do now... What was he going to do with you... Would you be expected to warm his bed forever? Would he expect you to housekeep like Niffty or barkeep like Husk... There was no avoiding it... From this moment on... You belonged to him...

Forever Bound.

A/N: I only edited this once rather than my usual 4 times, so if there's alot of errors or issues let me know 💜

[mixingandmelting]

No, Between the Two Of Us - None of Us Are the Sane One

Summary: Childhood to lover trope feat. Dick Grayson where you were best friends with him since the start of his Robin days which was also when he first having a crush on you

Words: 2.7 k

A/N: First time posting in the DC fandom, so please be gentle with me! Also there will be a version for Jason and Tim. ; )

Being besties with Batman and the first Robin is an experience to say the least. Many fantasize how it might go, romanticizing the prospect and excitement the friendship may bring. For you? Zero out of ten, would not recommend. The public masses claimed them to be heroes, but only you and villains know how unhinged they were. You did not appreciate playing the middleman when the two gave each other the cold shoulder or being the center of their amusement. Especially with Robin. You swore on your nonexistent Aunt Patty’s grave that boy was chaotic evil, the agent of all chaos. You grew paranoid for months having been pranked by him every time he swung by so you wouldn’t do “something stupid”. Or so he said only to get you to scream at the top of your lungs whenever you were hanging around on your apartment’s roof, creeping silently towards you and whispering the most random fact he found. He would then cackle with glee and proceed to rub on the wound by reminding you how the first meeting between you three which led to the constant check-ups  (a whole, another story you rather not remember involving a much younger you and Robin, Santa Claus, and pajamas printed all over with I <3 Batman and Robin).  You tried to get back at him multiple times. You never once won. 

However, there were times when he wasn’t pranking you. Moments like those, he’d simply sit and brood next to you, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong before starting his rant about Batman. With little to no knowledge said man, himself, would visit you and ask about him a few minutes after he leaves. Yes, you did question why they thought it would be a good idea for a kid younger than themselves to mediate between their fights only to give up  when you found yourself going in circles as to why you still chose to be friends with them. Way too complicated and big of a headache for your small head. It didn’t seem like Robin cared either, as he would tell you everything on his mind, not a single thing held back. Hands being held or a head leaning on a shoulder was a must when he talks. When that tradition started you genuinely had no idea but you never thought about it. More like you can’t when you saw the expression he wore. 

What started when both of you were merely children continued on to high school, where you discovered his identity. The way you found out was disappointingly anticlimactic. After the many years you hung out with him, of course you would recognize him right away. The same gremlin laughter, the corny jokes he shared with his fellow peers. Oh, and the fact his hairstyle stayed the same as both Robin and Dick Grayson. 

Dick, on the other hand, obviously hadn’t thought through that. At all. Okay, sure, you were on the more observant side but still, you shouldn’t have been able to piece all that together within a semester. He wasn’t even at school often because of all the missions to the point the school had been frequently calling Bruce and Alfred about his many absences. There were plenty of guys who sounded, talked, and looked like him, including his height. He was careful. Shouldn’t have been a “dead give away”, whatever that meant. So when he came over to comfort you after a mission, hearing how you got stood up at the school’s dance, he wasn’t prepared for you calling him by his name. Worse, he couldn’t even play dumb or pretend to not know what you were saying. Not when you gave him the same eyes you always did that held comfort and support he always seeked, as if understanding everything he was going through. 

With the cat out of the bag, he soon had you meet Batman as Bruce Wayne. He enjoyed the mini meltdown and sense of horror you were having, realizing just who exactly you’ve been chummy with all those years. Maybe he shouldn’t have gloated how you should've treated them better when you gave a mean, actually painful jab to his ribs. Still was worth it. So was the impromptu meeting with his team, Teen Titans, when you started working part-time at the pizza place they always stopped by to eat when celebrating a mission gone well. You didn’t know how silly and adorable you were acting, not as bad when meeting Bruce, but definitely shy and frazzled from being star struck. Well, for a bit that was. An hour later, you were sitting and laughing with them about a mission that involved Condiment King. The way you smiled and brightened the room had him thinking for a moment that he had a shot. After all, you practically met everyone he considered family. It had to be a sign for him to seal the deal. 

It stopped and ended as a thought. When you all started talking about love, he didn’t know as much as how he didn’t know which hurt him more; you saying you weren’t going to be in a relationship ever or you, not friendzoned, but bro-zoned him. You don’t notice the way Wally stiffens or the worried glances Donna shot at him. Starfire voiced opposition to your decision to stay single. Raven, not knowing anything, gave you her support. He most definitely did not appreciate Gar feigning disappointment only to get snapped at for going over the line by Vic. 

He didn’t know how to act around you afterwards when he escorted you home. He knew he was making you worried,  more so when he kept telling you he was fine when you asked if you had done anything to make him uncomfortable. He wanted things to stay the same. Retain the precious relationship that led to his love for you. There was no intention to make that night his last night with you. Yet, how was he supposed to act when he found out he never had a chance from the start? As crazy as it sounded, he once even thought about you being a Grayson. Of course not in high school; when the two of you got much older. It filled him with guilt when he heard from Bruce how you were asking about his well-being. It felt like a knife was being twisted in his heart when letters you wrote were slipped between his homework whenever he had gone to school to get them, belatedly realizing he never gave you his number. All he could reply back was the same, lousy excuse of being busy with missions. 

You, on the other hand, waited, hoped, prayed that Dick would visit you again. You knew somehow it was your fault and you wanted to apologize, make things right. Every night you stood on the rooftop, doing homework or simply reading. The nights you don’t, you left his favorite candy with a note. Batman was the only one who visited you then, though his visits were becoming rare from the increase of crimes occurring all over the world. It was through him you learned about Dick’s decision to leave the state and go to some college in New York by the end of the school year. You ended up rejecting the invitation to go with him to the graduation ceremony, knowing there was no point in seeing Dick again.

So really, Dick should’ve seen it coming when he learned from Alfred that you were leaving on the day of. As if to one up him, you weren’t leaving New Jersey.  You were leaving the states. It didn’t help that he had been forced to hand over Robin’s mantle to Jason not too long after the rejection. He had to face another heartbreak, as he mourned over the Robin who first met you, the body wonder who was your best friend, was no more. He naively thought he had time. To debut and cement his role as Nightwing, leader of Teen Titans while getting himself back together, all to come back to you. It was apparent enough to know he didn’t. Finding out on the day of, his hands fumbled with the keys to his motorcycle, rushing to get to the airport on time. Despite breaking every traffic law in Gotham (which he ended up owing Babs on not getting taken to jail or paying a big ass fine), he arrived too late. He couldn’t call out to you, his eyes taking in the glimpse of your hair  through cracks of the closing gates to TSA. 

Years passed and he tried to get over you. First with Starfire, then with Babs. Zatanna, Helena, Bea, Lori, Clancy, mixing one-night stands in between. But none of them ended up working for him. None of them were you. They didn't have the same humor you had. They didn’t give him the same warm hugs you gave him without him ever having to ask because you simply knew. Hell, the whole reason for things to end with each of them was because they called him out for it. His whole team did. Even his whole family including Bruce, Steph, Duke, Tim, and Damian. He’s not going to talk about what happened with Alfred, Jason, and Cass. He still gets nightmares for what they put him through. 

As he continued failing on nurturing a permanent relationship, you found yourself frequently buying magazines or skimming on the webs on the latest news and gossip covering vigilantes and heroes during your study abroad. You had brought with you newspaper clippings you kept on the Robin you still missed and cherished. You could count the number of times Robin changed, recognizing none of them were Dick. Yet you never found the heart to ask Bruce what had happened, if he was okay. Nor would you have been able to when you left without ever getting some sort of contact information to stay in touch with him. 

Now, he’s in his early thirties and you’re in your late twenties. So much has happened during your lives but you still think of each other. All the what-ifs playing in the back of each other's minds, regret and hope constantly raging back and forth. But not once have either you met even when you came back a few days ago. 

Currently, you’re sitting on the ledge of the same roof of where everything began. Gotham glows beautifully without the stars, its artificial lights so bright it makes the city shine as much as it does in the day. Kicking your legs, you hum mindlessly enjoying the scene. That is until someone calls out your name. 

Your grip slips and you scream, nearly falling to your demise. Or about to until a warm arm quickly wraps itself around your torso and pulls you over to safety. Gently the person places you on the concrete floor, a few seconds passing afterwards as your mind registers you’re still alive. Guess they weren’t expecting you to get angry, two hands quickly in the air and sputtering apologies when you stand back up and rage why no sane person would ever scare the living daylights out of a person sitting on a roof along with profanities that could shame Deathstroke and bring pride to Red Hood. You’re panting in the end and reach towards the can of soda you had placed when you were sitting. And when you take a sip, it then hits to who you had raged on. 

He looks away, a hand covering his face from holding back the laughter that threatens to spill out when your face matches a tomato. You’re barely whispering when you apologize for the profanities, of course you aren’t going to apologize for everything else you both know you’re very much right on that part, horrified and embarrassed that you had done that to a very famous vigilante. Out goes his self-control when you go absolutely silent and start to fidget from the lack of response. He bursts at the face you make from mortification. 

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

You freeze at those words. 

“Do…I know you?”

Immediately he stops. The air turns tense, you looking at him with wariness as he slowly turns himself completely towards you. Gently, he calls out your name. When you continue to look confused, he does it again, taking a step closer and pulling off his mask. 

He can see so much denial in your shaking eyes. The desire of you wanting him to say the person standing in front of you isn’t him. He’s quick to grab both wrists and root you on spot, keen and trained eyes already noticing your feet turning to make a run for it. His grip on you is firm but soft, enduring all the words you thoughtlessly, recklessly say while tugging to get him to let go. 

Eventually you stop, acknowledging there isn’t going to be a chance again in the future for you to speak to him or him to you. In fact, you both most likely would  evade each other for the rest of life if not for now. When he’s sure that you won’t escape, slowly, he lets go and takes a step back.

“..Why?”

There’s a tremor in your voice, the area of concrete in front of your feet becoming bi-colored. You don’t scream. You don’t raise your voice. Dick can feel himself break, his throat and chest constricting, dawning on him how not once you fault him for ruining the friendship between the two of you while listening about, for the longest time, all you desired was to apologize. When you weren’t even in the wrong. Too soon your words start to mesh and trip over each other. He takes the opportunity to open his mouth. 

“I love you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting a smile fill with bitterness and self-loath. Your heart initially refuses to accept everything he tells you, how long ago he started to have a crush on you to how it ended up turning into love. You can never relate how his love for you ruined him where all his relationships with others never lasted for long when it’s him. The gremlin child that held confidence to defy everything on Earth, the gremlin child you developed feelings for. Silence hangs in the air once he’s done. All of a sudden you’re livid. Offended. Dick doesn’t notice, going from rubbing the back of his neck to shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to give you the space to soak everything in. When he finally can’t wait anymore, he rushes to think of something, even resorting to begging for your forgiveness. Not looking down at your hands that slowly reaches for his collar.

“Please, all I really want to say is that I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to you so I don’t even deserve to have chance to ask you to be f-”

It takes Dick a hot minute to realize what’s happening before melting in. His hands make their way towards yours, pulling them up and placing them on his cheeks. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss without crossing a nonexistent line that you probably aren’t ready for. It ends up being the right call when you end up breaking it, lack of oxygen in your lungs from having no experience.

“Next time, just ask instead of assuming things.” You growl, pinching the flesh on both sides of his face.

He doesn’t reply or lets you say another word, his soft and warm lips placed right back on yours where they belong. Where they should’ve been since back then. Too bad the second kiss doesn’t last longer than the first, all of sudden hearing wolf-whistles around the two of you. Everyone from the Bat family and the Titans reveal themselves on the roof, some clapping, most teasing on how long it took for you two to get together. You quickly duck your face into his chest while Dick chuckles and pulls you into a tight embrace. 

Later on, a ring adorns his and your left hand. Never once getting taken off, no matter the reason. 

[ashwhowrites]

i love love love your writing and i have been waiting for your requests to be open!! can you please write a billy hargrove x reader story where he rejects her and then he regrets it and has to grovel?

Like she is super nice and friendly with everybody, and she can even get Billy to soften up to her. She's had a crush on Billy for the longest time like since he's arrives in Hawkins but he always is hooking up with somebody or flirting with somebody else. Then she notices that he's been alone for a couple of weeks and thinks this is her chance so she confesses to him and he lets her down gently because he doesn't feel the same (he so does but in his experience romance never lasts and he could never ever bear to lose her) and so she decides that having him as a friend is better than nothing.

But obviously she can't act the way she acted before and she starts distancing herself from him. No more grabbing his arm for security when the hallways are crowded. No more asking him for rides to and from school. No more chattering in his ear during lunch. Instead, she's doing those things with her best friend Steve or Eddie because they knew about her heartbreak and they're trying their best to be supportive.

And obviously he can tell right away that things are different and he's fighting the urge to shove Steve/Eddie away and take back his place next to you. He's trying to reach out and spend time with you and he doesn't care if he sounds desperate when he's doing so but she keeps blowing him off because she wants to get over him and she thinks he's just pitying her.

He finally snaps one night and sneaks into her room and tells her how he's been going crazy. She apologizes for being distant and says that she's moving on so that they can be friends. And Billy just says screw that and he doesn't care what he said before he just wants HER.

Sorry if this is a lot but I can't wait to read what you do with this!!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Relationship guy

Y/N and Billy had a touchy friendship. From afar they looked to be a couple, with the way they held hands, hugged, kissed each other's cheeks, and the way Billy would do anything for her. She was the only person in the world Billy had a soft spot for, that had to mean something.

There wasn't much time when they were apart. Billy was at her house first thing in the morning, the door open as he waited. The way he leaned against his car made her heart race every time. Then they arrive at school, and as usual, everyone is watching. They moved around the school and when people got too rowdy, Y/N would latch herself to Billy's arm.

"I got you," he smiled as he threw his arm over her shoulder. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last.

Lunch was Y/N's favorite part of the school day. Not only because of no class but because she got to talk to Billy non-stop for those few moments.

"Do you think you'll win today's game?" Y/N asked, crunching down on Billy's ignored apple.

Billy scoffed, stuffing his face. "Duh, I'm on the team."

Y/N laughed and nodded, "Fair point, and Steve too!"

"Oh yeah because he does a lot," Billy rolled his eyes.

"Be nice, he is my other best friend," Y/N playfully lectured.

"Yeah, but we know I'm better,"

"In basketball or being a friend?" Y/N asked to clarify

"Both, babygirl," he winked.

The bell rang and they packed up their trash. Before they went separate ways for class, Y/N kissed Billy's cheek goodbye.

~~~

Y/N fell for him, of course. She had eyes for Billy ever since he moved to Hawkins, but he didn't have the eyes for her. His eyes looked at every girl that passed by him. Y/N never made a move because he was always sleeping around with a new girl, but lately, he seemed to be alone more than usual.

With his eyes not looking elsewhere, Y/N found a boost of confidence to ask Billy out.

They were lying in his bed listening to music when she turned to look at him. She took in his handsome features, studying how gorgeous he was up close. She watched as his lips formed a smile and he turned to look at her.

"Why are you staring at me?" he laughed, placing an arm under his head and propping himself up. He reached out and placed his arm over her waist. She smiled at the feeling, her heart racing.

"Have you ever seen me more than just a friend?" she asked, her stomach twisted as his smile slowly disappeared from his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, licking his lips nervously.

She took a deep breath, cuddling closer into his warm body. He hoped she couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding.

"I like you, Billy. I have for a long time but never said anything. Lately, you've been alone and it got me thinking maybe this is my chance to tell you."

Billy was in awe of her soft voice and the beauty of her heart. The truth was, he did like her. He was alone because no girl could get his mind off of her. She was the only person in his life that made him happy and he wasn't sure if he'd live if he lost her. He never tried to have a relationship so he had zero hope he would treat her the way she deserved.

"I think you are incredibly beautiful, inside and out. You've given my life a whole new purpose and I'm grateful to have you. I'm not a relationship guy and that won't change. I love you and hold a place for you in my heart, but in a friendly way." Billy said gently. He softly rubbed her hip as she sighed.

"If you were a relationship guy, would you go for me?" she asked, moving to look up at him. There was so much emotion in his blue eyes and she wished she could detect it.

"My first and only choice, baby," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Are you going to be okay? I really don't want to lose you as my friend," Billy admitted. He feared she'd pull away and he wouldn't blame her.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," she smiled. The rejection slightly hurt but she had a gut feeling Billy wasn't the boyfriend type anyway.

Billy hummed as a response. He moved to wrap both his arms around her, setting his head on hers as she cuddled into his chest.

~~~

Turns out she wasn't as okay as she thought she'd be. Spending all her time with Billy was fun and exciting. But now all she could think about was how badly she wanted more and how it would never happen. The kisses to her cheek that made her heart race were starting to make her stomach sour. And riding with him to and from school felt suffocating as his cologne filled the space.

She realized she would never be able to move on from him if she didn't change things. So, she figured creating a little distance would help her clear her head and heal her heart. Once she felt over him, they could resume their friendship and it wouldn't hurt her anymore.

Y/N got in Billy's car, her mind reeling. She was in deep thought and had been struggling with what to do.

"Steve is going to bring me home today," she said quietly. Billy turned down the music and turned to look at her. But she kept her eyes on the road as he drove.

"Oh, why?" He asked, moving his eyes back to the road. He ignored the ping of jealousy that ran through him.

"I think I need some space from you. Not in a bad way, it's just to help me. We'll still hang out and be best friends. I promise," she smiled. She reached over to place a comforting hand on his thigh.

Billy wanted to do what was best for her, but selfishly he didn't want space. He nodded and focused on the road, he hoped she couldn't see the water filling his eyes as he pulled into the parking lot.

~

The end of the day arrived and Billy could feel her lack of presence. He walked in the hallways alone, watching as she clung to Steve instead. She didn't sit with him at lunch, but that didn't stop him from staring at her the whole time. He dreaded driving home alone all day and he hated that it arrived. He also hated that her needing space meant everything changed.

He gave her a small wave as she drove by in Steve's car. His heart sped up as she excitedly waved back with a big smile. At least she still cared about him.

~~~

Billy tried to be patient with giving her space but after a week, he was ready to throw in the towel. He had to physically hold himself back from slamming Steve against the lockers whenever Y/N touched him. That was Billy's place. He fought the urge to sit at her new table, and beg her to gossip about her friends, anything to listen to her talk.

He missed driving with her, her smell in his passenger seat was slowly fading.

He sat on his bed as he held the phone to his ear, he hoped with everything in him that she would pick up.

"Hello?"

Billy smiled at the sound of her voice, "There she is, I've missed you," he admitted.

"I've missed you too, Billy," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Want to come over? We can order your favorite and watch those horrible movies you like," Billy offered.

"That sounds amazing, but I can't tonight. I'm sorry."

"That's alright, maybe next time," Billy said disappointed. The call ended shortly after and Billy slammed the phone down. He pulled at his hair as he took deep breaths to calm himself down. He was mad, frustrated, and hurt.

"You okay?"

Billy looked up as hot tears streamed down his face. Max stood at his door with a worried expression, a look he'd never seen her have before.

"I'm fine," he snapped. He walked up and slammed his door. Max didn't take it personally, it was the first time she ever saw Billy cry.

"I know we aren't friends, but it's okay to be upset. It's okay to feel things other than anger." Max said before she walked away.

~

The more time they spent apart, the more desperate Billy got. The more he called, the more he begged. He didn't care if he sounded crazy or pathetic, all he wanted to do was see her.

She noticed all the attention, and it was hard to look the other way. But she knew she'd never get over the love she had for him if she went back. She couldn't talk to him without getting lost in his eyes, or be in the same car inhaling his cologne. She couldn't touch his skin and not think about how much she wanted to taste it.

She figured he was pitying her, trying to lessen the blow of rejection. She knew Billy cared about her and it was something he'd do, but it didn't help her. It only made it harder.

She went to turn off her lamp when she heard knocking on her window. Only one person went through her window so she prepared herself to see him again.

She quickly fluffed her hair and smoothed out her sleep clothes. She walked over and opened the curtain. She didn't say anything as she unlocked the window and let him through.

"I can't do it anymore. I tried and I want to do what is best for you but I can't do it anymore!" Billy ranted as he paced around her room. "I can't take the distance. It's selfish, I know but I am falling apart here."

"Billy," she sighed, "It's hard now but trust me, it'll help us in the end."

"No, it won't!"

"If we don't do this now, I will never get over you. It'll damage our friendship in the long run. I'll never be able to accept when you get a girlfriend or decide one day to get married. I'll be tortured and unhappy. I'm doing this for the future us," she explained. "This is the only way I'll be happy for you."

"I don't care about future us. I care about us right now. I care about you being in my life right now." Billy begged. She watched Billy walk around the room, tears building in his eyes.

"I can't have you in my life right now!" Y/N argued, "You don't understand how painful it is to be in love with someone who can't love you back."

"What if I can?" he whispered, she felt her anger come to a halt.

Y/N scoffed, "You said it yourself, you're not a relationship guy."

"I don't give a fuck what I said. It was all bullshit, okay? I'm scared and have no idea what I'm doing and I don't know if I'll be who you want me to be, but I don't care. I want you," he confessed. He walked over and placed his hand on her cheek. She felt her breathing pick up as he looked down at her, so much emotion in his eyes.

He leaned in and she followed, turning her chin up as she closed the gap between them. She sighed in bliss as his warm lips worked against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, desperately pushing her body against his. Kissing her was better than Billy imagined, she was sweet and soft. He wanted to beat himself up for waiting so long.

Needing air, he pulled away. He placed his forehead on hers, opening his eyes as he panted against her mouth. "I'm ready to be a relationship guy. I love you."

"I love you too, Billy," she smiled, placing her lips on his.

~

Billy couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he pulled up to her house. He got out of the car and opened her door. He crossed his arms as he waited for her to walk out.

"There's my girl," he whistled as she walked down the driveway. She rolled her eyes but blushed at the nickname. She greeted him with a kiss, loving the way he wrapped his arms around her to deepen it.

"Good morning to me," Billy said against her lips. She pulled away to smile. She got in the car and Billy followed.

His hand was on her knee the whole drive. Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach ever since they kissed. She couldn't believe she and Billy were in a relationship.

They held hands as they walked into the school. He was happier than ever to have her by his side again, and this time as his girlfriend.

[mistwalkers-menagerie]

I don't think you're being negative. Having valid criticism for something you otherwise love doesn't equal hating or being needlessly negative.

As I'm playing, doing certain side quests centered around Solas lore, I can't help but feel a bit hollow myself. On one hand it's really enjoyable, on the other I feel like The Veilguard should've broken tradition to be a more direct sequal to Inquisition (despite loving my Rook to bits). Obviously I'm extremely biased as that's my favorite game of all time and I'm very attached to my Inquisitor and his journey.

Anyway, if not a direct sequal, maybe a subdivision under the Inquisition. It being disbanded or not could've affected the story. Because back then I thought that decision would carry weight, that the Well of Sorrows carried weight.

It should've had more of the past companions as NPCs; people who knew Solas, for us to witness exposition and the new revelations from their perspective. Yeah, we had Varric, as an afterthought almost. But because the devs decided they want a clean slate, all the insane exposition is rushed and as you've said, there's not enough nuance to it.

Everyone just accepts that the Evanuris are rampaging. No one tries to make sense of it. The controversy around the Inquisitor's title as Herald have been a constant debate throughout the game. So was Corypheus, everyone dreaded Corypheus and what he represented, the questions his existence raised. There were a ton of codex and conversation about the world's opinions.

The Veilguard on the other hand feels utterly isolated from Thedas.

What do you mean the Elves are just like "well, my gods are evil, that sucks". Why isn't there a quest - hell, an arc - centered around the Elves coming to terms? And the Chantry is not in this at all so far? I'm not a Chantry fan or anything, but what do you mean none of the human political factions and the biggest human religious organization have anything to say about the situation?

We don't know how the world reacted. We don't know shit.

I know DATV went through a rough development, that's not new to BioWare sadly. But it should've handled the past games - especially DAI - with more care and respect. Because despite being compelling and enjoyable, the story still doesn't feel quite right.

Ok, as much as I have been hyping and playing 12 hours a day since it got out (still in Act 1 though, bc I'm a slowass player and completionist), I feel like I have to say something that is getting hard to ignore at this point... and I wanna preface this by saying that I am loving a lot of aspects of the game and I adore the writing when it comes to the companions, who I am obsessed with.

And maybe this will get better yet, as I generally heard the writing picks up once the story progresses beyond picking up all companions..

But I'm starting to get quite upset at the way the writing just does NOT care about the established lore and the politics of Thedas like at all, when to me - and many others - that richness, nuance and depth of the world is what makes the games so special.

(Spoilers below)

I looked past the way the elves in Arlathan just seemed to know that their gods are evil and Solas is "kind of a dick" but was right about that. When, you know, that made him basically the Satan of their pantheon up to now.. It was after all the tutorial stage of the game and I understand that you wanna ease newcomers into the lore. I could also handwave it in-universe with Morrigan being there - she could have filled the Veiljumpers in on the discoveries of the Inquisition or even what the Well told her.

It felt a bit weird that our contacts in every other faction just accepted this huge revelation without a blink, but again it was the early stages and I also get that having a discussion about it 6 times with different faction leaders would have been incredibly tedious. So I ignored that. And yeah, at least the First Warden found it hard to swallow.

The fact that they brushed aside the gods finding elven subjects - many of whom after all still worship them - with one sentence from Solas was disappointing though. Instead they chose to ally them with the Venatori and the Antaam who are the pure evil factions with no nuance or motive to side with them besides a comic book level of hunger for power. They didn't even throw in a sentence about the gods maybe speaking to the Venatori through the Archdemons to get them on their side or how it's very ironic that the Venatori, who want to make Tevinter great again, stoop to working with the pantheon of the people they oppress because they see them as lesser and other. No political exploration of the massive lore implications at all.

It really hit me when I picked up Davrin and he commented how Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain blighting the world would really endear us (elves) to the rest of Thedas - this was the first time anyone actually mentioned the political impact of the elven gods being real, freed, evil and blighted on modern day elves at all, when this should be HUGE. It should be ugly. It should be complex. It should be explored in as many examples as bloodmagic and the oppression of mages was in DA2. It should be a central point of Act 1. (This btw made me love Davrin so much in that moment because this was the first time in the game for me when I actually felt like talking to a Dragon Age elf and even just that one line felt like home.)

And now I just did Taash's first companion quest and it seems Qunari lore is also being ignored (except for the gender aspect of it, which I look forward to). Taash's mum was a scholar and had a baby and the only problem about that was that it could breathe fire and was special but otherwise all would have been dandy? Like she would have just been allowed to keep Taash long enough to find that out about her baby if she was living under the Qun? That directly contradicts everything we know about how the Qunari's culture around reproduction and childcare works.

Sorry to be negative and talking myself into a rage - I know it's not something people want to see rn. But like, I realise you have to brush over some lore intricacies for brevity and to make it digestible for new players. But this is a world initially inspired by Wheel of Time and ASOIAF, both of which are interesting because of the depth of ficitional cultures, lore and politics, and hence it's also what gives Dragon Age its appeal. And now they take us to the most politcally interesting areas on the world map and just get rid of all of political depth?

That's really disappointing. Imagine if Winds of Winter dropped all political themes just because there's several previous books and it's been some a lot of years.

Also, I managed to play DA2 before I ever played Origins and they could introduce me to a vast established background of lore just fine back then.

Sorry. Rant over. But I had to get that out of my system.

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Replaced? (Part 6)

Genre: Skz Smau, Text posts, Skz!Fic, Non!idolAu, Angst, Crack/humor, Mini series

Pairing: Bsf!skz, Fem!Reader, Bf!Felix, Stoner!Skz, Stoner!Reader

Warnings: !!Slow Build!! , Strong language (ofc!!) , Mentions of SA, Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of smoking, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of fighting, Suggestive humor !!MDNI!!

Synopsis: Some people say friendship breakups hurt more than actually relationships .. and now y/n sees for herself why some friend groups are best kept separate

A/n: and we're back with another chapter of REPLACED? this chapter is definitely giving reality tv type MESSY and i LOVE it bc this is where the real angst starts to kick in. I know this fic was originally meant to be a text post series but i decided to add written parts as well to enhance the details! Chapter 6 is for sure a THICK and JUCIY one so buckle your seatbelts! Thank you all for sticking around and enjoying these silly little stories with me! hugs and kisses! MWAH!! 💋 xoxox <3 <3 <3 <3

© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.

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“Omg TYSM! can you guys just grab these and bring them up I have to piss like a fucking race horse!” 

“Yea yea go ahead we got it! ” Chris waved you off as you hoped out the cab doing your little pee pee dance.

Minho couldn’t help but to point and chuckle as he mocked the way you hoped from side to side like a little toddler who couldn’t hold their bladder. 

without any thought you quickly flicked him off almost like it was a reflex before you took off running up to your apartment building with the speed of light. “The doors open!” Changbin shouted behind you 

You didn’t even realize how quiet it was in your apartment until you came out of the bathroom. walking back towards the living room to check on everything…

“Oh hey there!” you heard from behind you in the far left corner of the room. “Ughhh ofc its him… obviously … just keep your Distance fuck boy” you think to yourself as you mentally roll your eyes before turning around To see Alex holding some plugs in in his hand. 

“Alex, hey!” You force a smile trying not to seem awkward (but failing miserably) “you all good, you got everything you need?” 

“Yeah yeah all good just finishing my set up now” he responded from behind the table with all his equipment as he plugged his last cord into his laptop. 

“Cool cool cool, perfect timing guests are about to start arriving any second.” 

“ nice .. you know I had no idea you were so close with the whole gang from work .. Chris, changbin, minho , jeongin.. you guys get along pretty well I assume.” 

“Oh Yeah we’ve all been super close for years! We’ve been friends Way before we even started working the club actually.” 

“wow.. for a long while huh? Would’ve never known” 

“Yeah.. that’s family ” you say with a soft smile of adoration “where is jeongin btw ? Is he in the back?” You turned on your heels heading towards your bedroom to quickly and smoothly escape this conversation you no longer wanted to be a part of. 

“No, he and his girlfriend went out to get more ice!” He yelled out before you could get far quickly dismissing your escape route “fuck!!” You thought to yourself. “Oh okay .. water?” You offered him as a distraction turning to walk towards the kitchen wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 

“Yeah sure” there was a few seconds of silence .. then he spoke again. “Listen ..thanks for booking me for this gig, I’ve only really been working the club the past few months so I appreciate you considering me.” He spoke out loud enough for you to hear him from the kitchen. 

“Oh it’s no problem, you do a pretty good set at work and everybody loves good music so why not?!” You force a chuckle trying to seem polite as you emerged from the kitchen walking over to hand him a bottle of water. 

And as if the way you felt his eyes shamelessly roaming your body wasn’t enough to make you want to die in that moment, it was like the energy in the room got more and more dense every time he opened his stupid mouth. 

You extend your arm out to give him the bottle of water and ofc instead of being a  normal person he grazes his warm clammy fingers across your hand before taking the water bottle from you “thanks” he says “ AHHHH EW EW EW I HATE MEN I HATE MENNNN WHY WOULD HE FUCKING DO THAT EW WHY CANT HE FUCKING BE NORMAL WTF??!” The inner voice in your head was crumbling with the ick. 

“Your outfit looks amazing btw ” he added make this moment even worse! at this point You genuinely would rather leap head first off your 7th floor balcony than stay in a room alone with him any longer. “DUDE WTF IS TAKING THE GUYS SO LONG OMFG !! GET ME OUT OF HERE!! ” your inner voice still raging with panic. He then grabs your hand and pulls you into a hug. “ ha thanks” you reply to his yucky compliment forcing yet another painful smile. “And you smell so good” he inhaled your scent (like the creep he is) almost whispering in you ear. He had a very strong grip and everything was happening so fast you barely had a chance to pull away or react.

his hand kept creeping around your lower back as he tried to pull your body closer into him. His hand then landing just on top of your ass as he full on groped you with no shame. And what made it even worse was that you were wearing a mini skirt. 

“Ew bitch wtf are doing!!?” You pushed him hard enough for him, a man twice your size and height to stumble backwards almost falling into his DJ equipment. Your fight or flight senses kicked in real fast. (Thank god)

“Wdym princess.. I thought you were feeling me?” he replied with a sly grin on his face like what he had just did was okay or some kind of funny joke. You were livid at this point. 

And without a thought or a second guess your hand came crashing down making contact with his face. The slap was so hard the sound echoed through the quiet living room. “You think this shit is fucking funny!? You’re about to be in a house with all my MALE best friends and my BOYFRIEND… you think it’s going to end well for you if I tell them you just sexually assaulted me??!” 

“Idk what you’re talking about pretty girl, I didn’t do anything” he let out a small malicious almost inaudible chuckle holding his face where you slapped him. You continued to look at him with pure rage and disgust. 

“ you’re fucking disgusting.” you turned away attempting to storm off but before you could even walk away..

“Cmon princess don’t be like that” 

“Shut tf up and do the job you were paid to do before I kick you out of my fucking house Alex! "

“Well yeah , you could kick me out but … what’s a party without music ?? And I mean .. you already paid me in advance so really it would just be a loose loose situation for you, no? ” he chuckled lightly as he mocked you with that menacing grin still lingering on his face. 

“Do the job you were paid for and Stop fucking talking to me before my boyfriend blacks your other eye!” 

“Boyfriend ?? do I know him??” He laughed out loud this time yet still holding his face where you slapped him. He was putting on such an unbothered douche bag persona but you could tell his face was definitely ringing.

“Use that tiny fucking brain of yours and figure it out” 

“ I know another way you could put all that feisty energy to good use”

“ oh bitch you’re playing with fire .. ” that stupid grin never once leaving his face had gotten under your skin so badly you just had to one up him.  “you’re disgusting you fucking pig!” You glared at him before fixing your mouth to spit in his face before Finally storming off away from him and into the kitchen.

Just as you turned your back to walk away Changbin and Minho walk through the door. 

“Sorry we took so long there was traffic on the elevators. Chris should be coming in right behind us” changbin said as they both walked to the island counter to set the cakes down. being as close as you were they both immediately knew something had happened. And they were definitely gonna find out what was wrong. 

The tension in the room was so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Minho and bin Just shared a suspicious and concerned look communicating with each other without ever having to speak a word. Carefully watching over you as you grabbed a shot glass from the cabinet and slammed it close. 

“ you okay squirt? ” Minho said watching you crack open a bottle of vodka as anger clearly oozed off of you. 

“Mhmm… you wanna drink? ” you try to deflect but your clenched jaw and very noticeable heavy breathing gave it away. You were not okay. In fact you were fuming.

Neither of them answered you, they just continued to read the room intuitively trying to figure out what had just went down in the spare of 10 minutes. You threw your first shot of the night back with urgency . Finally making eye contact with changbin. “ what happened??” He silently mouthed to you so Alex who was sitting across the room wouldn’t hear it. You shook your head trying to indicate “nothing” but the eye contact you held with him said something entirely different. After what happened , two of your very protective best friends being present with you brought you some comfort and You were finally able to slow down your breathing. 

You let out a loud sigh before removing yourself from the kitchen and walking towards the balcony "I need some fresh air” 

Minho, being the quiet observant one he continued to read the room until he saw it and let out an involuntary gasp. 

Changbin immediately snapping his head in his direction with furrowed eyebrows “WHAT!?” He silently mouthed once again. Minho just quickly pulled out his phone and started typing a text message and bin immediately understood also pulling out his phone…

“ sorry for the wait I’m back! And look who I founddddd” Chris’s voice come through the door 

“Familyyyyyy” Rachel poked her head through the door 

“Hey y’all heyyyy!! ” Olivia walked in behind her with jeongin and Sophie following, both of them holding bags of ice. 

"Heyyy!!" Changbin jumped up holding out both his arms inviting Felix’s sisters in for a hug

“No waaaaayyy!! Lix is going to be so happy to see you guys!!” Minho added

“Where is she??” Rachel asked after greating them both 

“Yeah where’s my sissy pie??” Olivia added 

“She’s out on the balcony getting some air” Minho pointed them into your direction 

The room was silent until the balcony door could be heard opening “watch this!” Chris grabbed everyone’s attention and then put a hand up to his ear just as you let out an extremely loud screech of excitement “AHHHHH STFUUUU UR JOKING??? YOU GUYS ACTUALLY MADE IT?!!!! ” and everyone burst into laughter.

Before you knew it your house was filled with all your friends and mutuals of your friend group everyone was chatting and catching up with each other in the mean time until the birthday boys arrived. Chris found you in the kitchen pouring yourself another drink. “Y/n you did such a good job! Look everyone is already enjoying themselves! ”

“Yeah we seemed to pull it off perfectly huh?” 

 “Is something wrong?? Whats the long face kiddo??” 

“It’s nothing ”

“ You know you can’t lie to me y/n ” he replied standing up straight from where he was leaning against the counter across from you and slowly pulled you into a warm hug. “What’s the matter hmm?” He added as he rubbed your back. 

“Idk I just feel stupid .. and violated, it’s whatever I’ll feel better when Lix gets here”

“violated!? Y/n did somebody here do something to you bc I’ll handle that shit” he responded quickly pulling back to look you in the eyes making sure that you understood he was serious. “No no Chris it’s okay I’m keeping it chill for the sake of the party we can talk about it later” 

“Y/N … what. Happened.” He said more sternly in his fatherly tone.

“Tell me. I’ll handle it right now.” 

“Chris not now.. please?” You looked up at him with pleading almost teary eyes “ we’ll talk, I promise” there was a moment of silence between you two as you waited for him to trust you and agree to the promise you were making him. You and Chris had a special type of friendship and you understood each other well.

“… I promise.” You repeated as he wiped away the single tear sliding down your face. He didn’t verbally say anything he just nodded and pulled you back into a tight hug. You squeezed him back glancing over his shoulder almost physically cringing at the sight of Alex still eyeing you from across the room. You just tucked your head into his chest trying your best to relax in your best friends arms almost like a baby hiding from a Scary monster

“ OKAY OKAY EVERYONE PLACES!! PLACESSS!!! THE BOYS ARE ON THEIR WAY UP!” 

“ I ’ll get the lights!! ” Minho jumped up to turn all the lights out as everyone started to scramble to their feet making sure to hide behind something or someone. 

The apartment was so quiet you heard exactly when the boys stepped off the the elevator loud laughter surrounding them as always. 

“Ouu I hear them!” Olivia said 

“Omg they’re cominggg shhh shhhh ” you whisper shouted with anticipation. 

“Go in, Y/n said the door is open” you heard Hyunjins voice as they neared the apartment door. 

“K, cool” Jisung spoke before turning the door Knob and pushing the door open … 

“SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” 

The party had slowly begun to come to and end.  Some guests starting to grab their jackets and head out while others were still mingling and some even passed out drunk in various areas of the house. “Chris we’ll be right back we’re just gonna walk Liv and Rach down stairs!” 

 “Yeah yeah no problem ” he responded while giving both you and Lix the “help me” side eye. Jeongin had been passed out drunk for the passed 2 hour and Sophie.. in her natural weird bitch fashion, has been following Chris around ever since.  “We’ll be super fast” you whispered to him while speeding out the door. 

“Y/n We had such a good time sissy pie!” Olivia said “we really did!” Rachel added. 

“Yay! I’m so happy you were able to make it it’s been so long since we seen you guys !” 

“ my head is still spinning , no way you actually got my sisters to fly out here from Australia just to surprise me for my birthday! ” Lix shook his head at you in disbelief but his big brown eyes were filled with love and admiration. “ anything for my little nugget!” Rachel interrupted hugging her younger brother.

“yeah we missed you heaps, Lix” Olivia added grabbing them both into a group hug. You just watched with a huge smile on your face quickly grabbing your phone to snap a picture of the precious moment without them even realizing.

“You deserve to be celebrated and surrounded by love hun.. especially for your birthday.” He then walked over pulling you into a tight squeeze “ and you .. my love, deserve to get your back blown out” he whispered in your ear so his sisters wouldn’t hear. You looked up at him with a giggle “is that a promise, pretty boy?”

“ it could be” he smirked back “ well, actually it can’t be bc there is a black out drunk jeongin upstairs in my bed right now”

“He can watch” Felix grinned playful raising his eyebrows up and down. “Ew Lix, behave!” You hit his shoulder as You both laughed out loud. 

“Our hotel is only about 20 minutes from here, so we can just walk” Rachel’s voice grabbed your attention away from each other.

“No way!” “Absolutely not!” You and Felix both practically scolded her simultaneously. 

“ it’s after 4 am you’re not walking anywhere this time of night! ” Felix spoke in his protective voice his tone dropping an octave as if Rachel wasn’t HIS older sister 😂

“It’s alright babes I already ordered you guys an Uber , I think that’s it pulling up right now!” You added 

“Ugh such sweethearts, I told you these two were meant to be together!” Olivia smiled to Rachel as you all hugged once more and said your goodbyes before heading back into your apartment building.

“You ..” Felix turned you around to face him putting his finger through your belt loop and pulling you into him once you stepped onto the empty elevator.

“Me??” You smirked batting your long fluffy lashes at him “innocently” flirted back with your boyfriend.

���Yes you..” he pressed your body into his placing his finger under your chin “you have no idea how in love with you I am”

“idk .. I think I might have an idea” you whispered back wrapping your arms around his neck smoothly leaning in for a kiss which quickly and effortlessly turned into a mini make out session. Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, his free hand squeezing your ass. So lost in your tipsy bliss you barely noticed the elevator stopping at your floor.

Felix’s teeth softly biting and pulling at your bottom lip earning himself a not so quiet moan to escape your lips as the elevator door opened. Pulling away slowly from each other regaining focus is when you realized that someone was standing there watching you two.

Turning around to see none other than Alex. Your energy entirely shifted once you saw his face as if his presence just irritated your whole soul and spirit (and it did!) you let out a loud sigh and sarcastic tight smile (on purpose this time!)

“Finally heading out?” “Uhh yeah….” Alex responded. putting his head down trying his best to avoid eye contact with felix.

“Perfect!” You said rolling your eyes giving him the nastiest resting bitch face. You grabbed Felix’s hand walking out the elevator bumping passed him with Felix close behind you giving him a death glare of his own. 

“Babe..” Felix nudged trying to get your attention once he knew alex was gone. “hmm?” You responded avoiding eye contact because you knew exactly where this convo was headed.

“Babe wait! Stop walking, look at me? ” he pulled your arm to get you to turn around and face him. 

“Hmm?” You repeated, hesitantly looking up at him

“baby what was that?” “What do you mean??” 

“Listen you know I don’t like that bitch.. and I understand if you’re doing the whole my boyfriend doesn’t like you, so I don’t like you either thing.. but that felt like a whole different type of animosity. What’s going on? ” 

“Lix it’s nothing ” you said reaching to pull your keys out of your pocket as a distraction. 

He gently grabbed your chin raising your head to make eye contact with you again “princess ..  I know it’s something. I’m not gonna pressure you but you just say it the word and I’ll beat that fuckers ass again you hear me? ”  

You nodded as he left a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not shutting you out Lix , I  just want to end tonight on a good note okay? 

 “I get it.. whenever you’re ready princess” he said giving you one last forehead kiss before walking back into your apartment. 

“Yo yo yo what are you doing??!..” was the first thing you heard as you opened the door to your apartment. You and Felix Looked at each other in suspicious confusion. “Aw Chris c'mon you’re no fun.. ” you heard Sophie’s voice coming from the kitchen as well. you rushed over to see what was going on. And nothing on gods green earth could have possibly prepared you for what you had just saw. 

Standing at the entrance of your kitchen you could not believe your eyes as Sophie literally threw herself at Chris, grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him. You and Felix both frozen with your mouths hanging open in utter shock. You all were aware of the shady disgusting person Sophie was but this was a new level even for her! Chris reacted before you could even say or do anything. 

“Bro Wtf is wrong with you!?” He raised his voice as he pushed her off of him. “You’re literally dating my best friend have some goddamn decorum for fuck sake!” 

Still neither of them had realized you and Felix were standing there until you opened your mouth to speak “ oh my fucking god” you said just above a whisper almost as if you were trying to confirm what you were seeing was real and not just some drunken fever dream.

Their heads snapped in your direction and Felix swiftly tried grabbing your hand to calm you down. He definitely knew you were extremely close to loosing your shit at any given moment at this point. And ofc within milliseconds You we’re snatching your hand away from him charging towards Sophie with boiling blood pumping through your veins

"“ HOW FUCKIN DARE DO THIS TO HIM!" You grabbed the nearest liquor bottle off the counter attempting to throw it at her. Felix swooping in grabbing you and picking you up from behind as chris tried to snatch the bottle from your hand. Both of them failing with the amount of rage that was pumping through your body. But luckily for Sophie the glass bottle missed her head by an inch and hit the wall behind her. “JEONGIN LOVES YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO HIM ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS SOPHIE!?” 

“ Omg did you just throw that bottle at me??!! What is wrong with you, you’re a fucking psychopath!!! you're crazy!” 

Hearing all the commotion and shattering glass Minho and changbin came rushing out from the balcony to see what was going on. 

“ I told yo stupid ass months ago if you ever hurt him that I was gonna dog walk you bitch and I mean that shit! ” 

“Y/n it’s not even like that!” 

“Shut tf up i just watched you kiss Chris after he told you NO! Don’t tell me it not like that when you’re in my kitchen feeling up on another guy when the man who is madly in love with you is passed out drunk in the next room! "

She just stood there stunned looking stupid and tipsy as she realized she got caught. 

“You’re a compulsive liar and horrible friend! I’ve been wanting to beat your ass for so long now but I held out for my best friends sake. I regret ever introducing you to each other and I pray to god he starts to see you for who you really are!” 

“Y/n-” 

“Get your shit and get tf out of my house before I beat the living shit out of you! Delete my number and you better hope I never catch you out in the street bc unlike some people I AM a woman of my word.” 

“Touch me and I’d gladly press assault charges.” 

“Idgaf Bitch I would GLADLY go to jail for beating your ass!”

“Don’t test me y/n” 

“WASSUP HOE!! TRY ME!!! I FUCKING DARE YOU!!!! ” You started raging once again grabbing yet ANOTHER liquor bottle off the counter. This one being bigger and alot heavier Chris and Felix immediately rushed you out the kitchen saving your house from becoming crime scene as Minho and Changbin stepped in to escort Sophie out of the house. 

Taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka @milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @imastraykidsfan@simpracha @turtledove824  @laylasbunbunny  @armystay89  @eclipsemina @4ln-stay8@aalexyuuuhm @scribblesnsketches05 @amarecerasus @euphoric-univers @stellasays45 @night-storm7 @vixensss @blossomlilly @jc003 @hanniesbubuwife @beccaskz@soyeonbean @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr @chuuyaobsessed @estella-novella @gabriellamarie@livelaughloveskzmwah @thatshroomiegirl @flowerbunnii @whoa-jo @babygirlskz98@leftenemydestiny 

(plz lmk if you would like to be removed or added)

[stupditysholy]

I have to get this off my chest because the amount of Curly love on tik tok actually stresses me out and I’ll tell you why:

So to my understanding having experienced the game multiple times, Curly absolutely fails to advocate for/help Anya. She hides the gun to keep it away from Jim because Curly will not allow her to protect herself. He straight up calls her crazy to her face, too: “You never had to get psych evals like the rest of us. I should’ve known” or something along those lines. When Curly confronts Jim before Jim crashes the ship, he doesn’t say ANYTHING in defense of Anya, instead consoling Jim that they would figure it out, and he’d been in rough spots before.

For all intents and purposes, Curly does not see that Jim has done something inexcusable, and rather he has made a series of mistakes. He does not for one single moment consider how Anya’s life has been permanently altered, how her autonomy has been entirely stolen from her.

Until he experiences it himself.

Curly being reduced to a mostly immobile spring sausage is his way of experiencing the pain he allowed to be inflicted upon Anya, full stop. Even more ironic? Anya can’t bare to give him his pain killers, so he is left completely at Jim’s mercy, a fun-house mirror of how Curly could not bare to hold his friend accountable, and therefore left Anya at Jim’s mercy pre-crash.

Curly only becomes Jim’s victim because he allows Anya’s victimization to go on unchecked. He thought he was exempt from Jim’s abuse, and that is his biggest mistake.

Also, I have to say the idea that Curly get’s rescued and lives happily ever after does the narrative no justice. In fact, it completely undermines Jim’s entire character arc. Curly living happily ever after would, in some sense, redeem a little of Jim’s character—redemption he did not remotely earn because he did NOT take responsibility. At all.

Jim putting Curly in the pod at the end is no act of mercy. It’s actually the worst and most selfish thing he could have done. It’s the exact freaking opposite of taking responsibility. When he has his big talk with Polle before the very end, he is spouting complete and utter bullshit. Why?

The crash and Curly are NOT the things he is supposed to be taking responsibility for. The thing he is supposed to be taking responsibility for is ANYA’S TORMENT. That is the thing which started all of this, which lead to the crash, which fried Curly. That is the inciting incident.

That’s the freaking irony!

Anya get’s completely and utterly forgotten in this moment. In my opinion, this is why Polle says:

If all of that is true… why are you still so concerned with him?

Because right before that, Jim is about to say “Our worst moments don’t make us monsters.”

And Polle knows, then, in that moment, that when Jim thinks of his worst moments, he thinks of the accident, what happened to Curly, rather than the immeasurable pain he inflicted on Anya PURPOSEFULLY. Jim completely fucking ignores his worst moment, and that DOES make him a monster.

So when Jim puts Curly in that pod, not only is he righting the WRONG wrong, but he is actively choosing to believe this is what it means to take responsibility. He is making his amends to a man he accidentally hurt rather than the person who suffered the most at his hand.

It’s also pretty evil of Jim to put him in there because he knows: a good captain goes down with his ship. He makes Curly out to be a selfish and pitiful. He may even be setting him up for failure depending on how the authorities reason out what happened.

I just think at the end of the day Jim is the villian of the story, and Curly is a freaking bystander. Obviously post-crash this is inevitable, but that’s almost funny—not gonna do anything to stop him, Curly? Guess what, now you don’t even have a freaking choice.

Anyway please stop glazing the spaghetti man you can love his complexity but he is not a good guy or uwu cutie pie. He sucks. Straight up.

Feel free to start discourse in the comments I’m okay with being wrong about him I guess I just don’t think I am.

[utilitycaster]

sort of an offshoot of that post about video game characters but I think I've mentioned before the third person v. first person split in D&D, namely, do you say "I attack it with my scimitar" or "Drizzt attacks with his scimitar". This is a well-known thing in TTRPGs, I'm sure you can find more intelligent discussion about it, but it's come up for me specifically in that a lot of old-school D&D players skew hard towards third person and often they are less interested in actual play, because they see D&D as a narrative tool. There's no self-inserts; they are narrating the exploits of a guy they made. And so the parasocial elements (which are not necessarily bad, it just depends, and that's another post) have no appeal, and even things like accents don't really.

I don't think third person vs. first person necessarily means "not a self insert vs. self insert." I switch between the two and often use first person. But I don't feel like any D&D character I've played is a self-insert. They have aspects of me, sure, because of course they do, I need to be able to play them and try to think like them, but I think in a game where death and failure are really possible and where you must collaborate and where your options are rather limited - because even in D&D, they are limited by the type of game it is - it's actually vital to separate yourself out from your character.

It comes down to something I've said a lot about so many things in fiction (but yeah, this does bleed into real life): are you able to accept a character who is not like you? Are you able to accept a character who might make wildly different choices than you would? Is your capacity to empathize or see a character as a person limited by them specifically hitting some demographic or philosophical targets you have constructed? Can you, even in a low risk, fictional environment, let yourself be different from how you are.

this seems very silly but I think I may have alluded to Justin McElroy talking about not being able to play fat characters in most games, and so he often just plays characters who do not look a thing like him. He often plays as a woman of color. (I don't recall where this came up? I think it might have been on an ancient polygon video or maybe commentary on one of the TAZ seasons? I'd love to find it again). And I think that's actually really great that this was his instinct. I don't want to diminish the importance of RPGs and TTRPGs for self-discovery; obviously it's been a place for many people to explore gender and sexuality, especially, and I do not want to take away the ability for someone to play as a woman in a game before you feel like you can live as a woman publicly in real life (and notably my issues with the BG3 and Inquisition player characters are not ones of gender/sex/race, ie, I think it is personality and background that might need to be more pre-determined). But yeah, if you cannot connect with characters who aren't like you that's a problem, and it does feel a little frustrating that we know that centering a self-insert OC type makes for a worse story and people still want that.

I've always been intrigued by pre-made sheets in TTRPGs where you are limited in some way, not in a dumb "oh my god you can't play a druid bc I'm a weird vindictive dude mad that your nature magic beats my weaponry" way but just as an exploration of having to walk a mile in other people's shoes and to be a person other than one that you created to exist within your comfort zone. Because a lot of people aren't Justin, and do play themselves or as close to it as they can, regardless of what is happening around them, and I think that is a mistake.

[prettyoddfever]

the "Ryho" mindset is still happening

I didn’t like how part of the fandom treated Ryan during the pre-split years. This might end up being a lengthy explanation but bear with me because it’s relevant to the modern fandom.

So it was a well-known fact in 2006 that Ryan was straightedge/sober (Spencer was too, but he got less attention from the media). Being straightedge kind of became part of Ryan’s image (here’s a random example) and a lot of fans really connected with that. Then Ryan got drunk for the first time at the end of 2006, and we started seeing pictures of him partying with friends in early 2007 before the band even went to the cabin. 

By summer 2007 Ryan was like a completely different person. I get that the drugs & alcohol probably helped him become more outgoing, but I also think he was just becoming way more confident & comfortable as he grew up. And SO many fans seriously hated the change. Fans still randomly criticized the other 3 guys, but that stuff seemed more like the regular small complaints that happen just for the sake of complaining when people are bored (ex: Jon’s beard existing or vanishing). The stuff about Ryan was very different in tone and there were some consistent themes throughout the last half of 2007: Ryan was too in love with Keltie, he dressed like a hippie now, and he partied a lot. Basically, he was changing. He was no longer the same person that he was during the Fever era.

It honestly seemed like many fans were angry at this new version of Ryan for taking the old version away from them, as though they had some sort of ownership. There was tons of drama over the fact that we were seeing lots of pictures of Ryan partying with various friends (some of whom posted detailed stories about their nights or how drunk everyone was). Some fans said Ryan was a hypocrite or a liar and tried to make him out to be an alcoholic, as though he’d personally betrayed them by destroying who he was "supposed" to be.

However, I think most of the complaints were actually rooted in something bigger: Ryan looked happy.

I felt like a lot of the younger fans had latched onto the idea of a shy, wounded guitarist who needed to be saved or *understood* or whatever… you know the cliche I mean??  That was the vibe that the media sometimes tried to give him during the Fever era, so even they knew it would sell! But now Ryan was partying a lot with a wide range of friends, was dating Keltie, had completely abandoned his Fever-era aesthetic, and seemed to be closest with Jon in 2007 instead of Brendon. He was “destroying” the static image of Ryan that fangirls had taped onto their bedroom walls.

I remember a decent amount of fans actually admitting that they wished Ryan would go back to being depressed. Like they literally wanted him to be unhappy & unsure of himself because they liked him better that way. Others accepted that Ryan was changing and were happy for him, but still thought his bitter lyrics were better. And then even if other people wouldn’t admit that they were clinging onto an old version of Ryan, their main criticism still seemed to revolve around the fact that Ryan was living his life, having fun, and being different than he was the previous year.

I saved one fan’s post because it summed up some of the complaints this year:

The nickname “Ryho” really took off in late 2007.

Obviously a ton of fans loved Ryan (and the kids who were bashing him still claimed to love him too). The petty criticism just became annoying to me. People slammed his new clothes, his new hairstyles, the way he carried himself or talked, his weight/body, his “creepy” fingers, and the “girly” things he told Kerrang he liked (pumpkin spice candles, vanilla milkshakes, his puppy, and Titanic). Even the kids who used to love Ryan’s mild arrogance were now holding it against him. A lot of the fans who were criticizing Ryan in the last half of 2007 jumped right back to being his “fans” once the Pretty. Odd. era got going and things were interesting again, but I guess it shouldn’t have been surprising that so many fans were able to easily switch to bashing Ryan once again in spring 2009 when he was changing yet again. It’s like they were so focused on what Ryan wasn’t doing that spring (ex: recording the third Panic album) that they couldn’t see or accept what he was doing: building a whole new life for himself in a completely different music scene with the new crew of friends he’d been hanging out with for a while (Alex Greenwald’s scene).

One of the things that stuck out to me in late spring & summer 2009 was how many fans felt rejected by Ryan (and Jon). Those fans had basically idolized prior versions of Ryan and were hurt to slowly watch him destroy all of that as they realized he didn’t want to be part of the machine of the music scene that the fandom still loved. That hurt translated to them lashing out in anger.

So you know how I mentioned that in 2006 part of the fandom liked the idea of a shy, wounded guitarist who wrote bitter lyrics and needed to be *understood * and saved? And they resented Ryan for destroying that concept in 2007 and taking away the Ryan that they loved? They wanted to view him as a static character and couldn’t accept that he’s a constantly-evolving human. This is still happening today. Some fans are still upset that the version of Ryan that they want was taken away (ex: Ryan left the Fever era behind, left Panic behind). Except now instead of resenting Ryan for the choices that he made, some modern fans have rewritten the past to blame external forces like Brendon instead. I've been trying so hard to wrap my mind around this for a while, so here's my take on it... keep in mind that this is just my own observation/guess. Ryan isn't very visible now, so people are free to project a lot onto him. I think that by blaming Brendon (who is the visible one left), people can still happily view Ryan as a helpless victim who needs saving, and never feel rejected or betrayed by his choices... it's like Ryan didn’t actually want to leave them, and could still be the person that they need him to be. Idk I'm still trying to comprehend what happened to the recent fandom tbh.

I'm absolutely not saying that all of Ryan's current fans are like this!! It's just that some little bits I've seen are concerning because they essentially take away Ryan’s agency & erase him. Even on a smaller scale, I've still noticed how some modern fans focus heavily on stories that dramatize Ryan's pain & portray him as a passive victim, regardless of whether those stories conflict with reality. Like why exactly is that angle a priority? Some examples:

Camisado is for dancing

the "funeral picture" isn't real

Lollapalooza was a fun show

June and July are different months

Ryan participated in the stage gay

some of the Ryden stuff could probably qualify too

Keep in mind that I'm saying this as a fan of Ryan. I am genuinely happy to see that he has so many newer fans! But sometimes I'm a little concerned that patterns might be repeating and maybe some people are more focused on their own creation of a character/image than an actual musician who has had many many phases.

[treasure-mimic]

Psychopomp and What Things Mean When They Don't Mean Anything

So if you haven't noticed or you don't follow me, I recently became interested in a small, one-man dev team indie game by name of Psychopomp. As a brief synopsis and pitch, Psychopomp is a game about a woman who seemingly suffers from paranoid delusions, through the lens of this narrator she tells us that there's a labyrinth of catacombs hidden underneath every public building and sets out to explore them to uncover the world's secrets, armed with nothing but a store bought hammer.

The game's intro puts it in words better than I could and more influential than any pitch is just seeing the protagonist's design.

As one commentator states, she looks like a skateboard mascot from the mid-2000s. Like she should be on those posters with a snarky quip just fucked up enough to catch those pearl clutching puritans off guard. I love the style and I love the tone and I love the premise.

This might be the best time to note that if you're interested in playing this game, you should stop reading here, as this discussion will contain spoilers. It's a short game, took me about 3 hours on my first playthrough, and it's pretty cheap, even has a free demo in the form of the base version with Psychopomp Gold serving as the expanded, completed experience.

Anyways.

I've always found conspiracy theories fascinating but in the modern age it can be hard to immerse yourself in these reality-detached belief systems without acknowledging, you know, the racist dogwhistling and tangible physical harm it's causing to society at the present moment. Psychopomp is able to pretty gracefully sidestep this issue by setting its anarchic anti-government sentiments against its protagonist's paranoid delusions rather than adherence to a faith or belief system.

Indeed, the game seems to take systemic beliefs as its central enemy. The entities that are necessary to kill to progress through its levels are defined by the systems they interact in, historical figures of elevated status, keystone positions in industrial manufacturing, even abstract systems like urbanism and DNA composition are posed as societal and oppressive. I'm not saying that there's no way to interpret the game in bad faith and make it directed at marginalized social, political, or ethnic groups, but I also struggle to imagine the person who takes the game literally on its face value?

Which I guess leads me to the main topic I wanted to discuss. The game very obviously has an unreliable narrator (for the record, the protagonist remains nameless for the bulk of the game, I will be referring to her as Venus as it's the closest she has to a name that's explicitly stated within the text itself) with the flavor of one whose intake of reality may be different from what's actually occurring. The game uses a combination of conspiratorial rambling and dream logic to stage its unreal tone; for example, one level delves into the "biology" of buildings, stating that they use graffiti to communicate and that black mold is a pheromone used to evacuate its inhabitants to allow for mating. Loading screens come with "Gameplay Tips" and "Real World Tips", both of which are often dense and inscrutable; for example you might get a pair like "Not all enemies are friends" and "Viruses do not exist. Illness is simply your body punishing you for what you've done wrong."

Surrealism and unreality as stylistic choices can be a bit of a tightrope walk to get right. On the one hand, if you make it explicit that a story takes place in a state that did not happen even within the story's universe, a dream or a hallucination, it can rob the narrative of its stakes, regardless of how well executed the internal metaphors are. Psychopomp very explicitly does not do this, regardless of what it is that Venus is experiencing, the game makes it clear through scientific logs and communications (as well as a brief epilogue set outside of her perspective) that something abnormal is happening, the question is just where in between normality and Venus's experiences does the truth of the game's narrative actually lie.

The other side of the tight rope is literal interpretation, presenting a setting that's absurd to our sensibilities but tangibly explainable, where meaning is supplanted by lore and the cosmology begins to solidify into a set of Calvinball rules that don't make sense, but are still adhered to, and this is the side Psychopomp threatens to lose me on. There is a credible argument to be made that there is no difference, that what Venus is experiencing is her reality without warping and distortion, it's a more credible argument than saying she completely fabricated all of it, and it's an argument I was starting to wonder wasn't the intended interpretation. Until I got the game's second, secret ending.

Psychopomp has one collectible that doesn't serve a direct gameplay purpose, but each catacomb has a key hidden away, often behind false mimic walls that bleed and scream when you hit them with your hammer, and which unlock new rooms in the only permanent location "Home". Initially a gray, cubical, concrete room with a single mattress and a small table with a radio on it, collecting keys allows you to further explore outside(?)/within(?) the home with a unique camera perspective and limited interaction. In the first layer there's a blob man who cries out in torment, demanding to know why you specifically made the world like this, giving some credence to the deification of Venus implied by the game's ending. In the last layer, Venus traverses underneath and past her own brain to unlock a repressed memory.

I take this as confirmation that there's some level of abstraction at play here. Under scrutiny it feels as though there must be some level of abstraction at play here because when taken as a whole, the conspiracies start becoming outright contradictory, even if you try to take the cosmology at play as fact, which are the closest thing to objective facts that we have.

See, Venus's perspective takes place an alternate Earth, one that both seemingly was broken off from the planet and now orbits it like a new moon but also has always existed. One of the locations is a natural history museum which explains the history of sentience on this counter-earth, humans rose, went extinct, were supplanted by a species called the thrait, then humans returned in a mutated form and retook the surface and forced the thrait back underground (though the museum also refers to the thrait as extinct despite being the most common friendly NPC you will encounter). Another location seems to imply that the humans of this world, or maybe only some of them, are artificial clay creatures, reinforced by the arbiters of the DNA factory too being clay alleles. The Human Seedbed even has the game's most effective jumpscare in it, where Venus cannot leave the area without being confronted with a jittering clay facsimile of herself.

But with that in mind, what the hell is Venus then? By no account is she one of these artificial clay people but then how did she get here? The game's introduction implies that she used to be a normal person, or at least closer to, with lived experiences inclusive of complete ignorance to this underworld, the game's endings imply that she's an immortal god-being who has been intentionally working towards her own reawakening, and that is actually one of the least ambiguous plot points within the narrative. None of the pieces of this world lock together to form a cohesive vision of a setting that operates on even the barest of internal rules, and yet the game in the same step refuses to be a character study or subconscious examination, I mean the epilogue is a damn sequel hook that involves assembling the damn Avengers to combat the ramifications of the events of the game.

So, I come to realize, I'm the problem. I might, in fact, be thinking about this too hard.

One of the locations in the game is called "Daddy's Bad Place". It is a single, tiny room of a house or apartment, frozen in a moment of tearing itself apart, that only contains a dusty old TV set with a small, pointless ornament sitting on top. In any other surrealist game, this isolated circle of clarity, a compact orb of recognizable terrain, would be a moment to deliver one single jolt of reality into the metaphor of the protagonist's journey through their own subconscious.

In Psychopomp the TV turns on and delivers a distorted warning about a giant insect which is deadly, deceitful, and above all, not real.

In Daddy's Bad Place I come to realize something. The lore is fake, the characterization is fake, the dichotomy of truth and delusion is fake, the insect is not real. Let's think about what I'm doing here for a moment, right? I'm trying to discern the truth from within a work of fiction. None of its true, none of it happened, what difference does it actually make?

The thing about conspiracy theories is that they don't make logical sense. It's a known phenomenon that conspiracy theorists love to debate, but cannot be reasoned out of their beliefs by facts or logic. There is never a counter, but always a failsafe argument that can be retreated to for safety. What conspiracy theories do make is emotional sense, they make narrative sense. The line that initially sold me on Psychopomp was one of the aforementioned loading screen tips, "All the food you've ever eaten is rotten. You have never tasted fresh food."

Patently false statement, does not hold under scrutiny, but I, as someone who lives in America and lives in a city center and has to get all my food through corporations, can look at a statement like that and say yeah. Checks out. I believe you. We would know if children were being smelted into egg slicers underneath public schools, but it resonates with our emotions about the systems of education we enforce upon children, so it could be true. We would know if buildings were a living, reproducing organism, but it resonates with the feelings of being born into a world where urbanism exists, has existed as permanent fixtures of the world, and is continuously encroaching upon the face of the world, so it could be true.

Anyone who understands the fundamentals of incentives and human psychology does not need to believe that there is a coordinated group of ontologically evil individuals driving the world to ruin for ruin's sake, but that narrative still feels true, it becomes validating in the ways that it plays off of the emotions of believers until it becomes a foundational pillar of belief that cannot be destroyed by logical contradiction.

Psychopomp, in the same way, presents information about its internal systems that cannot be true logically but form self-justification anyways through emotional resonance. It doesn't matter if the lore works because its stated, it isn't wrong, so it must be a truth. This is the way that Psychopomp emulates the unreality of the conspiracy theory in a way that can avoid the disturbing implications of the real world practice. I've made comparison to surrealism by dream logic and surrealism by internal self-reflection, but this is a different mode entirely and the game simply refuses to operate by those tropes at its core. Conspiracy is itself contradiction, not the soft contradiction of two halves of a dream that don't lock together, but the hard contradiction of attempting to apply emotion and narrative to a waking world that rejects either premise. Psychopomp, then, is surrealism by way of conspiracy.

[fcaruana]

Hiii just wondering if you could please translate this interview Maria gave about Franco? https://youtu.be/AqMKHpuQHLw?si=l9pbKdUVwM52dMuY

Sure, here it is! I skipped a few less interesting parts. For those who don't know, María is one of his 2 managers.

About the 2025 rumors: "All those rumors circulating about Franco signing for a seat are 100% not true. There isn't anything signed. I don't know if you've seen Jamie's [Franco's second manager] tweet saying 'Thanks for the info [about Franco confirmed at Red Bull] how strange, you found out before I did!'. For now Franco is a Williams driver, we have 3 races left with them and at the moment we're in Williams. James himself said he's negotiating with other teams, it's a discussion between teams that I can't say much because I don't know. There is a wish for Franco to stay in F1 in 2025, from so many people: his fans, us, the F1 itself would love for him to continue, Williams themselves are pushing to make it possible. If that wish becomes a reality we'll announce it when it happens for sure. For now, there is not any signed contract."

"I admire Franco so much. The way he's been dealing with the pressure and exigency of F1 is admirable. I was sure it was going to be like this, but he's still 21 years old, working with the mindset of a much older person. The physical and emotional effort he's putting in is impressive."

About how they take much more care of Franco now: "In F1, the only difference is that the exposure is many times higher. Now Jamie and I pay much more attention to the way this is affecting him, how he deals with this exposure and everything that's been happening to him. In that sense, the good and bad things have intensified a lot. So we are keeping an eye on him almost every second, both on and off the track."

About Franco meeting fans and signing their stuff even after Sunday's race: "That's just his nature. We spent the entire weekend hearing crazy stories of people who traveled to Brazil from Argentina by motorbike, people who didn't even have a ticket for the race, people getting wet in the rain. And he was incredibly moved, he felt that very intensively, saying 'what a wonderful thing is happening to me, look at all those people!'. From the paddock we all could constantly hear their chants, songs and screams, and everyone else was like 'what is going on?! what is this?!'. That is super positive for Franco, he couldn't stop coming out, he just wanted to go out and greet them. Obviously by the look of his face, his mood, he wasn't very excited at that moment, but he didn't want to stop giving back just a little bit of their constant support. He's still the same person [as before F1]. After the race he went out with that [sad] face, because he thought 'all those poor people, coming all the way to Brazil and look at what happened'. He felt like he had to do it for them, saying it's for all these people that he has to do well."

"We would've loved to be at the banderazo. Picture this: before leaving we even had to buy an extra suitcase just for all the gifts Franco received this weekend. It's been incredible."

About the impact of Franco's fans on F1: "I don't know if you've seen it, but now the Instagram account of F1 has been posting in Spanish (targeted to hispanic countries). I don't remember the F1 ever making such an amount of posts in Spanish before. This means that the F1 is embracing with gratefulness this community, these new argentinian fans and everyone Franco's bringing in."

About Brazil GP: "It was tough, it started tough and it ended tough. Considering it was an unknown track for him, his first time there, the tricky rain conditions we had, if I go back to all the sessions I think Franco was quite fast, even though he couldn't try the inters until the race because of his crash in quali. So I'm happy with the work he's done, considering he's a rookie, it was his 6th race, the wet unknown track, he did a good job. At the end there was too much water, in the straight there were two big rivers. Unfortunately he aquaplaned in one of them and lost the car, there was nothing else he could do. It can happen to you, like it happened to him and many others, or it can't. So it happened, the conditions weren't good and there isn't anything to throw in his face by my part."

About his relationship with his race engineer and their radio in Brazil: "It's always like this, maybe Franco has an opinion and Gaëtan has another, sometimes they agree but the most important part is that they win and lose together. Franco and Gaëtan will win and lose together, in the good and bad times. We'll never know what would've happened if they had listened to Franco [about him repeatedly asking for wet tyres before his crash]. The point is that him and Franco have a great connection, he trusts a lot in his criteria and this hasn't changed at all. They're always together in the simulator, now going for Vegas and thinking about the future."

About Franco feeling bad for the mechanics after his crash: "He wanted to be there helping in any way he could. I don't know what other drivers do but Franco is very affectionate with all the members of his team and greets them every morning, says goodbye to everyone every night, he has a special connection with them. His biggest worry was the effort they had to put to fix his car so he was constantly coming in and out of the garage, asking if he could help with anything, supporting them and thanking them."

About his relationship with Alex and the overall climate in Williams: "The best thing is that it's like a small family. It's our first F1 team so we can't really compare, but it feels good to work there, it doesn't feel like you're in F1 and feels like we're still in MP [F2]. Everyone is lovely and it's a pretty family-like climate."