#the article started out okay but I found it kinda :/ in places even though there were valid concerns

[spicehill]

inescapable paths of purpose, meaning in meaninglessness

or: why the path of nihility suits jiaoqiu so much better than abundance ever could, and it's fitting that his kit has no added healing. warning ahead for......... kinda rambling and talking in circles about this guy lmao. does this even make sense?????? help???????? uhhh... a tl;dr:

ah! would you look over there, it's my shameless favorite tv trope article happening off-screen in his backstory, break the cutie!

honestly it's kinda funny that both jiaoqiu and the emanator of nihility don't have a sense of taste anymore. the spice really is just to feel something. anything

somehow I didn't get to talk directly about him having like 4 different hats he wears and the fascinating psychology of role identities. how.

tried to get tf out of this field and they keep pulling me back in.

ms. arbiter general feixiao please one chance ( to prevent me, your loyal and devoted retainer jiaoqiu, from falling into utter and unending despair now that i've invested any remaining sense of purpose I have in this life in your survival )

jiaoqiu's character stories start and end in the same place, with him on the shore of rainsoar lake: the setting is the same, the environment the same, the beautiful details that paint the picture of a welcoming, pleasant place are unchanging.

the only thing that has changed is jiaoqiu.

he does not bother with the rain that runs down his ears now, he does not find anything to appreciate in the mild, sweet taste of wild rice. and even though he now sees his time here in the lake as serving a new endeavor, one that pulls him away from the pain and pointlessness of medicine, he is about to start anew on the path that he tried to leave in the first place: a single new patient, one with an affliction more challenging to cure than any wound he ever saw on the battlefield.

how did he get here?

bear with me through a short personal anecdote -- it grounds a lot of my perception of finding purpose -- a vivid memory I have of a conversation when I was younger with my father concluded with him telling me something. not everyone feels the need to find their purpose in their work, and that's okay. it's more strange to need your work to fulfill your life's purpose than not. and he felt that was important because, as the child of educators, I had only ever known adults who derive a deep sense of meaning and purpose from their work and the way they help others.

medicine, like education, is a field built of devotion, compassion. it is a selfish selflessness: by merely participating in it, you are seeking meaning and purpose. and as the child of prominent alchemists, I wouldn't doubt that jiaoqiu had never really known any adults who didn't help others while growing up, either.

that's kind of where his character stories start: the first time he's at rainsoar lake, he's young, enthusiastic, pleasant, hopeful. at the start, his demeanor isn't a diplomatic mask: its genuine, along with his desire to help others who need the most help on the yaoqing, cloud and verdant knights who face countless battles. maybe at this point in his life, several centuries prior, he would've walked the path of abundance with ease.

but that is not the man you meet now: the one we meet in-game wears politeness and pleasantries as a front most of the time, worries and plans almost-constantly, and really doesn't even think well of himself. jiaoqiu a harsh critic of his own shortcomings and mistakes, and isn't a stranger to feeling like a mistake or shortcoming of his own has happened. the contrast between the way he treats others ( pleasantness, gentleness, patience ) and the way he treats himself ( criticism, frustration, disappointment ), I think, is one of the first big hints we get outside of his character stories for traits that actually suit the path of nihility well.

to the next point, and circling back to his character stories: I always found it interesting that the drip marketing released for jiaoqiu portrayed his initial departure from medicine as being due to a broken heart.

this doesn't seem like it was a mistranslation or miscommunication with the localization, even though brokenheartedness is often associated with romance or love for another person of some kind. heartbreak is also when something is soul-crushing; heartbreak is falling out of love against your will with something you deeply loved once before. heartbreak is also irredeemable loss, often unsalvageable and irreversible. jiaoqiu's brokenheartedness stems from losing his passion for healing, his sense of purpose, and losing his sense of taste, all three of which were always deeply intertwined and interconnected.

character story details seem to suggest that his loss of taste may actually be physical more than psychological due to exposure to the lux arrow bombardment in the third abundance war: he was close enough to the impact that killed the previous arbiter general of the yaoqing while rescuing feixiao that it's almost like he has taste loss due to radiation exposure. combined with the building sense of pointlessness in his work as a military healer, seeing all his effort to help others and ease their suffering wasted again and again, he left healing after that -- seemingly to start a restaurant, which he called rainsoar eatery -- to try to salvage the little sense of purpose he has left after years and years as a healer made him feel purposeless.

the funny thing about cooking is that it's also a profession of compassion where your work is meant to help others -- cooking makes people happy, makes them feel warm, full. it's more temporary than medicine, but is a form of medicine of it's own right. in a way, jiaoqiu was still searching for purpose and meaning in his work, but now his scale and sense of personal impact was much smaller, much more temporary. he doesn't seem to believe at this point in his life that he's still capable of a larger impact. thus, in lost and adrift, the order of magnitude in which he describes impact are two extremes: either saving one person ( easy ) or saving the world ( impossible ). this is another signature conundrum of someone who has lost their way when their sense of self-meaning has been derived from work of compassionate service: what's the point of doing the hardest work if I can't really make a difference?

seeing pointlessness in effort spent on helping others is nihilistic, though it seems like jiaoqiu is still holding onto some hope for meaning.

so when his master from the alchemy commission comes to find him again years after the third abundance war at his restaurant near the lakeshore, he came with the purpose of persuading jiaoqiu to take on one more patient. just one, who his master promises will help him understand a healer's purpose -- and she's perhaps the most impossible person to heal in the world.

but he's saving all his medical effort for her: genuinely healing you is effort poorly spent. you're no longer part of his sense of purpose. thus far, I think working for feixiao has already redefined some of his sense of magnitude of impact, working to try and cure feixiao -- saving one person, in this case, is very important. and maybe the impossibility of the task is part of the point: it won't stop him from trying everything he can anyway.

[brionysea]

I know this is kind of insane but does everyone know the theory about Alice and Karen being the same person? I’m not quite sure but I do believe that Henry had powers inherited to him, so maybe the manifestation theory is a recessive trait? Karen didn’t get powers but her off-spring did? Just using science and biology because some traits and things can be passed down without you having it! Mike got his powers from Karen. His power a.k.a. being he can create things (like kali) except they’re real

i definitely don’t speak for everyone but i’ve heard the alice theory!

yeah, i find it a bit hard to believe too. the timeline kiiiiiinda matches up - alice was 15 in 1959 (according to that article robin and nancy found), so she’d be around 42 in 1986, which is like... plausible. i guess. i think it seems a bit young for karen, personally. i’m not great at matching ages with appearances in the first place and considering what the other 15 year olds in this show look like now it’s not the end all be all, but something about it just feels off

if i do mental gymnastics i can kinda see it. they had the reveal that el suppressed a traumatic memory this season, as well as going by a new name, which might explain karen’s apparent lack of memories and different name, but it’s hampered a bit by the fact that she apparently... didn’t move out of hawkins? whoever gave her a new identity, for whatever reason, just forgot about that? surely one of the older people who remembers the murders, like wayne munson, would think that this new karen kid looks a hell of a lot like alice creel? but hawkins isn’t exactly full of free thinkers, so...

i’ll say again: it’s plausible, i guess, but it’s not exactly my favourite thing in the world

there are a lot of similarities between the wheelers and the creels though. both nuclear families, although it seems like the creel parents were actually happy together. alice seemed like she was having a good time too. basically everyone except henry was just kinda vibing, making him the black sheep of the family, and isn’t that a scarily familiar concept. the similarity of henry’s safe haven being the attic and mike’s safe haven being the basement really freaks me out

the wheelers are all about appearances. they act like everything’s perfect. nancy’s even called “miss perfect” in season 1 (which i think about all the time in terms of how mike and nancy must feel like they have to present themselves), and that concept of hiding all your damage behind walls is what made henry go on his killing spree in the first place. that’s why i think he showed nancy that vision of them all (minus ted because even the bad guys don’t care about ted - although it also interestingly parallels the creel murders with victor thinking he’s the only survivor) dead. because they are the picture perfect representation of everything he stands against

and virginia and karen...

okay. this one’s really interesting to me.

virginia “somehow knew” that henry had powers and was the real reason for the weird things happening in the house and wanted to “fix” him. and karen in season one, as soon as weird things started happening around town, started acting weird as hell. you could say she’s trying her hand at being present by telling her kids (the ones that are old enough to theoretically cause trouble like henry did - he was 12 in 1959, the same age as mike when will went missing, and i think nancy would’ve been around alice’s age too) that she’s there for them and they can tell her anything...

but she’s completely uninterested when nancy does actually tell her about steve. which, if you were actually trying to do this whole parenting thing all of a sudden, would be something you’d want to talk to your teenage daughter about. but karen just gets annoyed like that’s not what she wanted to hear. like she knows there’s something else about that night that nancy isn’t telling her (which is because nancy doesn’t know yet)

her behaviour only makes sense to me if she’s subtly digging around to see if her kids are the cause of hawkins suddenly being exciting. otherwise i don’t know what the hell she was doing, besides maybe just... half heartedly trying to be a good parent for like a week because some other kid went missing? after that things more or less went back to normal so she could safely settle back into the emotional distance, even with both of the kids that she’s apparently there for now traumatised and in clear distress and in need of emotional support

(i swear i don’t actually hate karen, but the poor parenting from the wheelers is actually astounding)

and all of this is really interesting if it’s actually karen (consciously or subconsciously) repeating the behaviour of her mother. we didn’t actually see much of alice in the flashbacks, so it’s unclear how much she saw, but they lived in the same house. she might have noticed virginia doing something similar to figure out which one of them she needs to focus on

alice seemed to just be living her life, as opposed to the parents who henry had a solid reason to hate - the whole “hiding the damage” thing that he takes personal offence to for some reason, because telling your 12 year old all about your time in a warzone and subsequent PTSD would be a totally normal thing to do, and wanting doctors to “fix” him - but if he just felt ignored by his big sister (which is the most plausible thing i can think of besides just wanting a matched set - if he liked alice he would’ve wanted to keep her around like the offer he made to el), that kind of parallels the way nancy never responds positively to mike’s attempts to reach out to her. and we know that upsets him. it was written all across his face when she took max’s side over his in that argument they were having

i’m not sure about the creels and the wheelers being like... the same, on a genetic level, but if mike has powers it’s absolutely from karen’s side. ted could never be interesting enough

and while we’re on the topic of mike just casually bringing things to life: the idea of the creel family being entirely fabricated to reflect his own feelings as the black sheep of a family that constantly tells him to bury his feelings, that’s all playing a big game of emotional hide and seek that he just doesn’t get like it’s the easiest thing in the world, that never pays any attention to him unless it’s to tell him that he’s doing something wrong... it scares me, but that, i vibe with

[jimbleswrites]

Pantheon 2022

Chapter 10: Leblanc’s Ambush

Our trip to the K+ concert was a success. It had been a few days since then, but we watched with Ongaku as the internet blew up about K+’s complete breakdown on stage. Ongaku was happy that the smaller labels could continue to be independent. And I continued to patrol for Thora and deliver justice on a smaller scale. Vida was going to talk to Arinya about a possible lead, and I was currently on route to Cranberry Kiss, as Dan & Pat wanted to talk.

I walked into the bar, and found the same quiet place as last time. It was comfy, and I pulled up a stool. There were a few other patrons, all quietly drinking. I ordered a Cranberry Kiss, and the bartender silently mixed it together. I sat there for a minute, enjoying the atmosphere. Then Dan & Pat walked in.

“Robert, Buddy!” Pat called out as the door opened. He and Pat walked in, sliding right next to me at the bar. “Great to see you again!”

“I’ll be honest, waking up in a doctor’s office last time we hung out kinda freaked me out, but I've never felt better after that visit! You gotta let me know if he accepts new patients.” Pat chimed in, waving down the bartender.

I thought about the fight with Thora that put them into Ako’s care. But Ako was able to patch them up and make sure they didn’t remember any godly activities. “Hopefully you don’t need him again. I still feel bad that you guys got involved with my work.” I couldn’t say too much, but I genuinely did feel bad for them getting hurt.

“Don’t worry my man, it is what it is” Dan retorted, grabbing two bottles from the bartender as he walked by. “The important thing is we’re all okay and the paper is doing great!” He pulled up his phone and showed me an article. “Hits are up! We might even expand the team and get a real office!”

I looked closer, and noticed my picture and name near the bottom. “I’m on the site?” I questioned.

“Well, yeah. You got us off the ground, so we felt you deserved some recognition. You’re one of the Weekly Eagle’s field reporters!” Dan smiled, tapping my glass with his bottle and taking a swig. “Don’t worry, it’s just for show.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. It doesn’t worry you?” I didn’t want to have them attacked again, and having my name attached to anything could be bad.

“Nope.” Pat chimed in, “But the cop cars outside are a little concerning.” He pointed to 3 cop cars that were rolling in, almost on queue. Lights blazing, they quickly drifted to a stop, blocking the road on either side of the bar. The patrons of the bar began walking to the windows to see what was happening. The cops began setting up defensive positions behind the cars, and a tall man in a long overcoat stepped forward with a megaphone.

“ROBERT PALADIN!” The man called out. “YOU ARE BEING ARRESTED FOR TREASON  AGAINST AMERICA! COME OUT NOW OR WE WILL RAID THE BUILDING!” The police were pointing various arms at the building, pointed between the apartments above and the bar.

“You two should find a safe spot.” I stood up awkwardly, not sure why I was being arrested. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want you getting hurt.” The two reporters nodded, and scuttered behind the bar. I slowly walked over to the front door, cracking it a little. “I gotta ask, what did I do to get this response?” I yelled out to the man, still hiding inside.

“You come closer, and I’ll go over the full wrap sheet with you.” The man stepped forward. “But you try anything stupid, and we start firing.”

I could try to make a doorway out, but I didn't want anyone caught in the crossfire if the police deemed me a threat. I could try to fight out with my aura, but it was still risky. I didn’t have much of a choice though. I stepped out fully from the door, hands raised. The cops focused all their aim on me as I stood there.

The man held out a pair of handcuffs in a gloved hand. “I was hoping for a struggle, Rob.” He said, smirking.

“Then you’re gonna love this.” I focused my aura into my hands, now emitting a bright light and noise, effectively flash-banging the entire force as my hands glowed bright gold with a high-pitched screeching. The full force reeled back, and I quickly ran down the road, hopping over the top of the squad car and sprinting down the empty road.

“GOD DAMN IT, SHOOT HIM NOW!” I turned back to see the man in a full sprint running after me, with others aiming their weapons over. I heard gunfire as I ran, bullets whizzing by. I turned a corner just as a pain shot my leg. I toppled over, and saw a ripple in my aura near my calf. I must have gotten hit by a bullet, and my aura automatically shielded it. The man turned the corner, rushing towards me in a feral charge. I tried to get back up, but it felt like someone had smacked my leg with a hammer. The man finally caught up, and slammed my head into the sidewalk. My aura was shielding me but it still hurt, like my brain was being rattled around in my skull. I flipped over to face my attacker, only to see him swinging for my head. He hunched over me, repeatedly punching me as he pinned me to the sidewalk. I felt myself blacking out as he continued to attack.

***

I woke up to a major headache. My eyes focused on a figure in front of me. I tried to jump up, thinking it was that mysterious attacker from before, but found myself strapped down. I thrashed for a second, but couldn’t break the straps. I looked up again to see the figure was myself, reflected in a large mirror next to a door. I also saw a monitor next to me, with my vitals plastered all over it. I followed the cords to see some sensors hooked onto my arm, right next to a metal cuff chained to the bed I was laying in. I looked to my other side to see something hooked into my arm. It looked like an IV drip, but the label had some chemical I didn't recognize. My best guess was that I was captured, but by who? And why is no one watching me?

“Hello?” I called out. I tried to focus on breaking the cuff, but my body felt sluggish. It was like having a 2-second delay on moving anything.

“Anyone there?” I tried calling out again. I sat there awkwardly squirming, until the door finally opened with a whoosh. The mysterious man that attacked me walked through, alongside a smaller man in a lab coat. They walked to the edge of the bed, standing a good distance back.

“Mr. Paladin? How are you feeling?” The smaller man spoke up, with a bit of fear in his voice.

“To be honest? Disoriented, pissed off, and confused.” I responded. “Where am I and who are you two?”

“My name is Dr. Doug Prunty, and this is Commander Leblanc.” The smaller man explained. “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to know where you are.”

“You are a captive of the United Nations. You are being deemed a threat until we know more about you.” Commander Leblanc spoke with authority. “We have questions for you.”

I scoffed. “You accuse me of treason in the middle of the street, then assault me, kidnap me, and expect me to play nice?”

Leblanc stepped closer. “You were accused of crimes you did commit. Trespassing, stealing, assault to officers and civilians, espionage, and more. While you are extremely good at breaking the law, you didn’t attempt to cover your tracks at all. We have several reports, eyewitnesses, and security footage for several escapades of yours.” He turned to a TV in the corner I hadn’t noticed yet, and it buzzed to life with photos of me. “GIPA HQ in New York, The storage in the Phoenix courthouse, and the K+ concert in Green Bay. We have you clocked at each location.” He turned back to me. “Now, you tell me. Who do you work for?”

I wasn’t telling these people anything. They wouldn’t believe me, and normal humans weren’t supposed to know about gods or champions. I stared Leblanc down, refusing to speak.

“OK then, how about known associates?” The TV flickered to photos of Dan & Pat. “Why are you listed as a field reporter on their site?” I stayed silent. The TV changed again to a photo of me and Mrs. R at the mall shopping. “How about her? You two shopped with a bank card that doesn’t exist, and yet all the charges are fine. Anything you wanna say?”

These guys had done their homework, but didn’t seem to know about Mrs. R. Maybe she was sneakier than I was? The TV changed again, showing me and Caleb buying the car in Phoenix. “How about him?” Leblanc continued to question, “Your accomplice for the Phoenix heist?”

“Is there anything you will tell us?” Doug piped in, trying to help.

I wasn’t sure how much they knew, but I needed to leave here. “I gotta pee.”

Leblanc sighed, turning off the TV. “You are just making this difficult for everyone. But if you don’t want to talk now, i’ll wait.” He grabbed Doug by the shoulder, and led him to the door. “If you try anything, we’ll know.” They went through the door, it loudly clanged behind them, and I was alone again. Suddenly Leblanc’s blared over a speaker. “There is a toilet and sink next to the bed. If you cooperate, we won’t need the cuffs.” I sat up, looking to my left, and found a small toilet and sink attached to the wall. I looked closer at the cuff, and found a small clip to a longer chain. I unhooked it, and now had some more freedom. My other cuff on my left wasn’t attached to anything, but had a small light and beeped occasionally. Probably a tracker or a bomb. Maybe both. I found myself in a set of scrubs, and just realized my stuff was gone. I wasn’t left with any options for now, so I just had to bide my time.

***

Dr. Doug Prunty was not very excited to have this assignment. Normally guard duty on this platform was not bad, but with Leblanc? The commander was known for two things. His impressive record for catching criminals, and his obsessive personality. Doug had just gotten the report, and he was not looking forward to going over it with the commander.

“Commander, his things have been analyzed.” Doug stood next to the commander, looking through the report on his tablet. “The items are normal, except for a yellow jacket and his phone. They have no manufacturer listed and appear to be made by the prisoner himself. The phone also has no response to anything we try, so it may be a while until we can hack in.”

Leblanc didn’t react. He just stared through the one-way mirror at his prisoner. Robert simply sat on his bed, cross-legged, seemingly meditating. “What about the flashbang he used?”

“Nothing found on scene. No body armor either. He doesn’t seem to have any other advanced tech, and the search of the bar and apartments came up with nothing.” Doug continued. “We’re unsure if he has any other tricks up his sleeves, but there’s nothing on him. The body scan showed it was all organic.”

Leblanc turned to Doug. “Of course it did. We just have a person with superhuman powers, with no previous record of existence, that has been actively stealing government secrets, and with no actual leads on how he did any of it.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, clenching his fists tightly.

Doug gulped. “But he’s here! That’s a good thing, right?”

Leblanc pulled up his sleeve, revealing his robotic arm. It was clearly a prototype, with exposed pistons and gears quietly clicking as the arm rose. “The last time we encountered someone like him, I got my entire arm ripped off.”

Doug tried to look away just to have Leblanc move his arm closer. It grinded against Doug’s shirt, tearing the cloth against the unpolished steel. “I was apprehending a simple suspect, when someone TORE my arm off. Not cut. Not dislocated. She pulled it off like I was a god damn toy!”

Leblanc was shouting now, towering over the scientist. He pressed his metal hand into Doug’s shoulder. “MY PLAN WAS TO KILL HIM BEFORE HE COULD HURT MORE PEOPLE. NOW WE HAVE ONE OF THOSE FREAKS, JUST WAITING FOR A CHANCE TO STRIKE! THE MOMENT OUR GUARD DROPS, HE WILL ATTACK AND HE WILL BREAK OUT!” Leblanc breathed heavily, now pinning the poor doctor to the wall.

Doug tried to break away, but was unable to. After a moment of silence, Leblanc lowered him down and stepped back.

“He could have some information for us. I’m sorry.” Doug finally spoke. “We’ll focus on getting info our way. Then you get your way.” Doug timidly snuck away, scuttling out of the door.

Leblanc looked back to the prison cell, watching Robert. He flexed his arm, knowing a fight would be coming. It was only a matter of time before this new threat showed everyone his true colors.

[worstloki]

please read the article 'How White Fandom is Colonizing "Character-Coding"' by Shafira Jordan and quit while you're ahead

Okay, so I read it and see the problem, and I’ll try to address all their points in order because I don’t wholly agree with the article. I know it’s a lot to read so I’ve put tldr; sections at the end of each :)

Misusing the Term Reinforces Negative Stereotypes for Marginalized People 

The article essentially argues that labeling characters which are villainous as POC-coded is bad because they’re not morally pure and doing so "reinforces the idea that people of color are naturally dangerous and not to be trusted.”

Which is fair as you don’t want all the representation to be of ‘bad’ characters, but I also don’t believe all representative characters have to be ‘good’ either as it would be equally racist to divide good/bad in such a way. Not that I would place Loki under ‘bad’ to begin with, but arguing that characters shouldn’t be labelled as POC-coded for reasons unrelated to what’s presented in the narrative or because they did bad things is :/ even if lack of good representation is a prevalent issue in current Western and influenced media. 

Ideally there should be a range of representative characters that fall into ‘good’, ‘bad’, and ‘anywhere in-between’ because variety and complexity in character types should, in theory, be treated as common practice (which can only happen with a multitude of representation!).

And a bit unrelated but... within the fictional context of Thor 1, all the Jotnar (sans Loki) are presented to the audience as ‘bad’ by default. They desperately want to get their Casket back to the point of attempting stealing it (from the ‘good’ characters), they fight the heroes and even when the gang and Thor (’good’ characters) are enjoying or going overboard with taking lives it’s inconsequential, Laufey wants to kill the opposing king (who just happens to be a ‘good’ character) and will resort to low-handed methods to do so, etc. The narrative itself is from the frame of reference of the ‘good’ and we only see warriors of Jotunheim though so we understand why it’s like this, because regardless of their race/experiences the narrative carries, even if it most definitely would be seen as racist from our real-life perspectives if the ‘monstrous’ race were presented by actual people of colour, even if it would make sense for the people on on different realms living in different environments to be different from each other, and realistic even for that to be the root of some conflict. 

tldr; not using a specific label to prevent negative presentations of the characters seems a bit strange to do when the coding would be based off the text, but with limited representation available I see why it would be done, even if I still believe minority-coding is free game to expand/interpret.

Improperly Labeling a Character as “POC-coded” Suggests the Experiences of All People of Color are the Same 

The article argues that labeling Loki as POC-coded “suggests that all people of color have the same experiences, when in reality, people of color come from different places, have different cultures, and have different traditions.” And while it’s true that the term doesn’t go into detail about which particular experiences (and these experiences can vary vastly due to diversity!) the appropriate measure would be to remove the umbrella term POC altogether as people of colour tend to also vary. But that’s also exactly why it’s an all-encompassing general term? It’s a way to denote anyone who isn’t “white” and has the associated cultural privilege that comes with the concept of white supremacy.  

And, obviously, in the fictional setting presented, the concept of white supremacy is not prodded at, but cultural supremacy is definitely one that makes recurring appearances, right next to the parts about Asgard being a realm built on imperialism with ongoing colonial practice. 

My take on this is that Loki’s narrative features a struggle with identity after finding out he’s of a different race and was being treated differently his entire life and being Jotun was presumably a part of the reasoning even if he didn’t know it. He’s basically treated as of less worth for inherently existing differently. I do believe that racism is a common-enough POC experience, but that while Loki was born with blue skin he passes/appears white which is why I don’t say that Loki is a POC, just that he has been coded/can be interpreted this way. 

There’s also the entire thing with Loki trying to fit in and prove he belongs by trying to fit the theory and be The Most Asgardian by committing genocide (which ultimately makes no difference as he’s still not the ‘acceptable’ version of Asgardian), and the denial/rejection of his birth culture in destructively lashing out towards them (which even Thor is confused by because Loki isn’t typically violent), and the fact his self worth plummets and he is passively suicidal upon finding out he’s Jotun (internalized racism? general drop in self-worth after finding out he’s adopted and has been lied to? Bit of both?), but what do I know, I’m sure none of those are, at their base, common experiences or relatable feelings for anyone or decent rep because we see such themes on-screen presented wonderfully in different lights all the time. 

tldr; every set of experiences could be different, some types of discrimination could overlap, if you limit an umbrella term to only very specific circumstances then it’s no longer an umbrella term.

Suggesting that White Characters are Meant to be Seen as People of Color Ignores the Actual Characters of Color that are Present in these Stories

I don’t agree with most of this section, but that may just be the way the arguments are put together, which I don’t blame the author for.

“ Implying that Loki is a person of color completely ignores Heimdall and Hogun, the only Black and Asian Asgardians who appear in the movie. ”

Characters such as Hogun and Heimdall which are played by actual people of colour have smaller roles in the films and any prejudice they could face for being POC in-universe isn’t made apparent, while Loki at the very least comes to the realization that something he couldn’t change (race, parentage,) was having him treated differently his whole life and had to come to terms with it. The Vanir/Aesir are also both treated similarly on-screen, and Heimdall having dark skin isn’t plot relevant, whereas Jotnar are treated as lesser consistently and are relevant through the movie (breaking into the vault, Thor and co. attack Jotunheim, Loki’s deal with Laufey, the attempted regicide (and the successful one XD), destroying jotunheim, Loki saying he’s not Thor’s brother,). 

I also see including characters as POC-coded as... more representation? In all canon-compliant interpretations of the characters Hogun being Vanir is always explicitly mentioned because it’s a fact that just is, up to the appearance and even the world-building of Vanaheim in some fanworks use particularly East Asian culture as inspiration. I have never come across a Marvel fandom Heimdall interpretation where he’s not Black... but because these characters are more minor/side-characters of course they get less attention! 

“ In Loki’s fandom, Heimdall’s name sometimes gets thrown in to suggest that it was he all along who was the real villain due to his “racism” against Loki and the rest of the Jotun. It is, of course, ironic to suggest that somehow the only Black Asgardian to appear in the movie can oppress the privileged white prince. “

I... don’t know where to start with this. But the example of theorizing given in the article wasn’t suggesting Heimdall was bad or trying to explain his actions in Thor 1 by saying he is Black... and just looking at a character’s actions shouldn’t be done less or more critically because of skin tone in my opinion. Heimdall may have been trying to do what was best and protect the realm but if the audience didn’t know that Loki was up to dodgy things then the coding would be switched around because he was trying to spy and committed treason and then tried to kill Loki. People... can hold feelings towards others... regardless of skin... and suspect them... for reasons other than skin... although I do still have questions about whether Heimdall knew Loki was Jotun or not. (Even if I personally don’t think it’d make a difference to how he’d treat Loki?)

Some Loki fans have also suggested that because Jotuns have blue skin that this alone makes him a person of color (even if the audience is only allowed to see Loki in his true Jotun form for mere seconds of screentime). This, again, shows a lack of understanding when it comes to race. It doesn’t matter what skin color the Jotuns have. 

Race can differentiate between physical and/or behavioural characteristics!! Not being blue all the time doesn’t make him any less Jotun!! He’s got internalized stuff to work through and is used to being Aesir!! At least 1 parent is Jotun so even if Loki was passing as Aesir he’s probably Jotun!! (I don’t know how magic space genetics work for sure but Loki being Jotun was an entire very important jump-starting point in Thor 1!!). It’s a fantasy text and typically things like having different coloured skin indicates a different race or is sometimes if a species has multiple then is just considered a skin colour. That’s how coding works!! The Jotnar are very specifically the only race we see in the movie with a skin-tone not within the ‘normal’ human range, which alienates them to the audience from the get-go!! They’re an “other” and on the opposite side to the ‘good’ characters.

Both Loki and his birth father, Laufey (Colm Feore), are played by white men, and it is impossible for a white man to successfully play a character of color. 

The specification of men here bothers me, but yes, you don’t get ‘white’ people to play characters of colour if it can be avoided. (And it can be avoided.)

This also connects with the previous point made that people of color come from various places. There is nothing specifically about the Jotun that could be traced to any specific person of color, and even if there were, there would be no way for white men to portray them without being disrespectful.

This is where arguments about the definition of coding and how specificity/generalizations and do/don’t come in. I know I’m subjective and lean towards the more rep the better, but while I agree ‘white’ people wouldn’t be able to respectfully play a POC I don’t think that rule should have to carry over into fantasy-based fiction. I know texts reflect on reality and reality can reflect within texts, but if contextually there is racial discrimination and there are similar ideas which resonate with the audience’s own experiences I’d say it’s coded well enough to allow that.

tldr; Thor 1′s narrative revolves mainly around Thor and Loki, of which race is kinda kinda a significant theme in Loki’s part of the story. Not so much explored with less-developed side characters such as Heimdall and Hogun, even though their actors are actual people of colour. 

How Much of this is Really Well-Intentioned?

In the fantasy space viking world Heimdall and Hogun don’t face any on-screen prejudice and their appearance is not mentioned (which is nice, for sure! good to have casual rep!) but adding on to the roles they play in the narrative the explicit fantasy-racism in the movie isn't aimed at Asian/Black characters, but towards the Humans -to a lesser extent- and the Jotnar, including Loki, who only just found out he comes under that bracket.

The article mentions how fandom space toxicity often “reaches the actors who portray the characters,“ which is true, and it’s shameful that people have to justify their roles or presences are harassed for the pettiest things like skin tone/cultural background, but I don’t see coding characters as removing the spotlight from interesting characters such as those which are actually POC, rather expressing a demand for more rep, since well-written complex characters which are diverse are often absent/minor enough in the media, and therefore can get easily brushed aside in both canon and fandom spaces.

tldr; It’s obviously not a replacement for actual representation, but, if a character is marginalized and can be interpreted as coded, even if they would only be considered so within the context of the textual landscape, I don’t see why spreading awareness through exploring the coding as a possibility for the character shouldn’t be done, even if the media is being presented by people who are ‘white’ or privileged or may not fall into the categories themselves, as long as it’s done respectfully to those it could explicitly represent.

[theshelbyclan]

Love Language

Summary: Tommy doesn’t say ‘I love you’.

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)

A/N: Sweet anon asked: Hello i love you're writing! Can i request a tommy one shot imagine where the reader (his girlfriend or wife) finds out in his office, one of the locked drawers has everytning shes ever given to him? Maybe like love letters or random flowers everything he keep 😍🤍 thank you so mych. This request was so amazing to me, because you it made me feel like you understand this character so well? Either way, it made me think, and this is the result. It’s kinda different but I hope you like it! Words: 1448

***

“Tommy?” “Hmm,” the preoccupied reply came. You sounded defeated, against your best efforts, “I love you.”  “I know.” 

***

There’s blood on his shirt. It’s the first thing you noticed when he walked in. Not the mud, not his eyes, not his energy, just the blood on his shirt.

“Who’s is it,” you asked as casually as you could. Tommy lit a cigarette in reply. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” he drew out the ‘s’ like he usually did when annoyed or tired. “Who was it?” you continued. “Y/N,” he held up a hand, “not tonight, eh? Not with the hundred fucking questions tonight, alright?” You remained silent for as long as you could bear, “Just need to know you’re safe.” “You knew who you married,” a low voice replied. “I did.” Tommy stood up again slowly started to walk away.

“Do not,” you hissed, “walk away from me.” “Y/N, what the fuck do you want from me, eh?” he raised his voice, “This is me. This is who I am. And I’m doing it all to give you everything you want. To keep you safe. Alright?” You leaned forward and tried to lock eyes with him, “What I want, Thomas Shelby, is you. In one piece, preferably.” “I know,” he lowered his voice again, “And I understand.” He waved a hand like he was about to say more, but didn’t. “It’s because I love you,” you emphasized. He nodded slowly, “And that’s why I’m doing all of this.”

***

You were sitting at your desk writing. Some people seemed to think that being married to Tommy Shelby was a fulltime job and it could be if you’d let it, but not for you. Even before Tommy you’d been a writer, a journalist and an author of short stories. Neatly you typed them out and send them to the publishers in question. It was the one thing in life that always offered you solace.

“You spelled ‘enthusiastic’ wrong,” you husband commented helpfully after having popped up suddenly behind you. You ripped the page irritably, “Says the man who never even went to school.” “Life taught me how to spell, Y/N,” he sort of joked. “Life taught youhow to spell ‘enthusiastic’? Can’t remember the last time you were ever enthusiastic about anything…” He raised one eyebrow slowly, “How about ‘sarcasm’, can you spell that? Or ‘devil’, how about that, eh?” You pouted theatrically, “Sometimes I’m not even sure you take me and my work seriously…” “Oh, I take it seriously,” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette, “I know it’s enough to keep my wife away from me.” You smiled back at him when he did, but still a pang of hurt went through you: you’d give up everything just to have him say ‘I’m so proud of you sweetheart’. Just once.

***

“Come on,” he whispered. You looked up. “Come on,” he repeated, cigarette hanging from his lips, “let’s go upstairs.” “Why?” you asked, as you already started to follow him. Once inside the bedroom, he started undressing you with surprising tenderness. “Tommy,” you breathed, “look at me. What is it you want?” As a reply without words he gazed at your body, like he was drinking in very detail and getting drunk at the mere sight of it. “You and me, Tommy,” you said in between kisses, “remember it’s you and me. Fuck the rest of them. Fuck your family. Fuck the whole world. I love you and you love me. It’s you and me and nothing can ever come between us, right?” As he took off his own shirt, he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

“You and me, right Tommy?” you repeated, a little breathless as his head disappeared between your legs. “No,” he finally spoke, “you.”

*** Thomas Shelby had a long day of dealing with renegade family and dangerous enemies, so when he got back home, all he wanted was his wife and some peace and quiet.

“I cooked,” you said as you lingered against the doorpost. Tommy looked tired, worn-out, dead almost, with his head in his hands, “even told the cook to take the evening off,” you commented while your voice sounded flat. It was funny, because your emotions were all over the place, but your exterior just didn’t show any of it.

He slowly lifted his head, “You did, eh?” “Thought you might like it…” you fidgeted in spite of yourself. “I pay that cook for her to actually fucking cook,” he grumbled. “Fine,” you snapped, “I’ll feed it to the dog,” and you started to walk away. “Wait…” “What?” You didn’t even really turn around. Tommy sighed again and for a moment it was like he noticed the disappointment in your eyes, “What did you cook?” “Mint leaves. Your favourite.” And then a minor miracle took place and Tommy Shelby actually smiled a little.

***

“You were late today. I waited.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “I am.” “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Tell me.” “I do. Every day.” “Not with words…” “No, not with words.” “Tommy, tell me again.” ***

You were still half-asleep in Tommy’s arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. Outside, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it wouldn’t take long now.

Next to you, there was a gun on the table. Tommy had just taught you how to shoot. He’d shown you over and over again, even though you’d protested. But he said you might need it one day. On the other side there were his cigarettes and whiskey. His medicine. His comfort. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. But for how long? How long would it be until he’d die by his own gun, or get killed in some fight? Or met some other girl, prettier and smarter than you? As if he could read your insecurities, he shifted in his sleep and hugged you even closer to him. Thomas Shelby might not be perfect or a gentleman or eloquent when it came to expressing his love, but he did hold you at night.

***

“Tommy?” you shouted out through the house, “THOMAS!” “Fucking hell, woman,” his head appeared around the corner, “What is it?” Slightly embarrassed by your own volume, you said, “I can’t find the scissors.” “They’re in my desk somewhere,” he put on his cap and added, “I need to see a man about a horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You made your way to the desk that was always so tidy and neat. So you did as any sensible woman would do and turned over everything in search of a pair of scissors. Nothing. Angrily you threw down a pile of papers. And that’s when you noticed it. One drawer hadn’t been opened at all. When you tried it, you found it locked. But you were a girl from Small Heath and no locked drawer could stop you. In less than twenty seconds you had managed to force the lock en slid the secret hiding place open. Inside there were more papers, neatly stacked and tied together with pieces of string in different piles. Breathlessly you took them from the drawer and examined them one by one. “Still looking for those scissors, eh?” a low voice grumbled in your ear and you practically jumped from fear. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas,” you mumbled as you tried to hide the papers you’d just found. Tommy was eyeing them already, but didn’t say a word.

So you went back through them, “These are the letters I wrote to you, when you were in France. I thought you threw away everything. Your medals, everything…” He didn’t reply. Tears sprang into your eyes as you examined the second pile, “And these are all my short stories. Did you cut them from the papers? Did you really keep them all?” You quickly went through them and they were all there, from the very first one ever published, “And these, my articles…”

Tommy cleared his throat once and cast his eyes down when you looked at him. Lastly there was a small box. When you opened it, you found, “The rose I wore, when we were kids. The one my brother stole…” And now you couldn’t find the words, “I hardly… I didn’t even know you… back then. Why?” Tommy grabbed his case and started searching for a cigarette. “Tommy,” you insisted, “I had no idea. Why did you keep all of these?” “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly. You stared at the content of the secret drawer and decided that nothing was ever obvious when it came to Thomas Shelby. “Well?” you questioned. “I love you.”

*** Masterlist

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[zodiakuroo]

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours.  Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C���mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle.  Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.  

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”.  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”  

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.  

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

[damonalbarn]

Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

The real question is would Xander give her his jacket if he’s the only there

He’d sigh in exasperation and grumble as he takes it off, shoving it towards her roughly as his eyes cast upward in annoyance. “Take it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Just take the fucking jacket.” He shakes the article towards her insistently, scowling in mild irritation. “The last thing I need is Harry starting a witch hunt against me because I let you turn into a popsicle.”

“But won’t you get cold?”

“Can’t get cold if I’m not warm in the first place. I wear jackets as a fashion statement more than anything, and you obviously need it for survival, so just put it on and stop yapping.”

“Thanks, Xander.”

“Whatever.”

Niall comes up beside him with his arms crossed loosely over his chest, an amused expression peaking the edges of his lips and swirling around the blue in his irises.

Xander catches his staring, snapping at him harshly. “What are you smirking at?”

Niall shrugs nonchalantly, brows mirroring the gesture as he brushes off the other vampire’s interrogating glare. “Nothing.”

“No, go on.” Xander prods, turning his head to face him directly. “Say what you want to say.”

The Irishman purses his lips to ward off another endeared grin, clearing his throat softly before speaking his mind. “You just rarely let anyone borrow your jackets, so I just found it a little odd, is all.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone we hang around with runs the risk of freezing into a cadaver.” The boy easily dismisses the underlying message Niall is trying to imply, leaning back against the trunk of the car as the pair watch Y/N walk up to Harry and the rest of the crew at the door of the parking garage. They had all been running late for their night out, and unfortunately for Xander, he and Y/N had been the first to finish getting ready, so consequently, they had been the first ones waiting outside Harry’s car while everyone else wrapped up their routines for their outing.

They’d wound up loitering around the parking spaces alone as they waited for their friends, leaving him with no choice but to interact with her to avoid any awkward silence. Y/N had forgotten to bring a jacket, and Xander couldn’t bear the thought of having to wait even longer for her to go fetch one, so he’d decided to just hand his over for the time being. He doesn’t really need it, and Harry will probably insist she wear his later on, so he’d decided to lend it to her since he’ll get it back soon enough, anyways.

Xander licks his lips distractedly as he tacks another explanation to his sudden change of heart, deflecting all of Niall’s advances. “Someone had to do it, so I figured I’d handle the situation just to get it over with. That’s all.”

“Didn’t have to be you.”

“Then who? You were all still upstairs and she was three seconds away from going into hypothermic shock.”

“Was she?”

“She was shivering and her teeth were chattering. It was annoying, so I took care of it.”

Niall gives him a knowing look, but doesn’t push the subject further. “If you say so, Xanny.”

Xander groans dramatically, rolling his eyes in aggravation. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Niall questions innocently, though it’s obviously curtained by smugness.

“Don’t give me that ‘we both know the truth’ look you do when you think you’ve cracked some type of case.” The curly-haired immortal mutters seethingly, sniffing with distaste. “It’s irritating.”

“The truth tends to be.”

“Okay, Plato. Take your fortune cookie quotes somewhere else.”

“So you don’t like her at all, then? You did it just to get her to shut up?”

“Obviously. That’s what I just said.”

“Not even a smidge?” Niall urges, nudging his friend’s shoulder with his own in a playfully omniscient fashion, gifting him one of his signature sunshine smiles. “‘Cause it seems to me like she’s kinda grown on you a little.”

“She hasn’t grown on me,” Xander scoffs in appalled disbelief, shaking his head stubbornly as he observes the way Y/N cuddles into Harry’s side, clutching the vampire’s arm with tender affectionate, “I’ve just learned to tolerate her. Those are two very different things.”

“Maybe. But the line between them is pretty fine, don’t you think?”

Xander sets his jaw at Niall’s accurate theory, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right. “Just leave me alone.”

“She thinks the world of you, y’know that?”

The man opens his mouth to dispense a witty objection, but is left dumbfounded by the blue-eyed boy’s confession. He blinks at him in shock, brows furrowing with conflicted emotions. “Did…Did she tell you that herself?”

“Mmhm.” Niall hums casually, cocking his head to the side in entertained curiosity at his friend’s sudden change in mood. “She thinks you’re really cool. She likes how clever and unapologetic you are; looks up to it. She just gets mixed signals from you most of the time, so she’s too nervous to tell you herself.”

Xander’s features soften for a moment, and he glances back towards the mortal with a thin sheen of fondness over his usually cold demeanor. “She really said that?”

Niall’s mouth twitches as the other creature’s real feelings bleed through his wall of forced indifference. “She did.”

Xander breaks his gaze from the girl, and one sweep of Niall’s snarky appearance snips whatever thread of genuine compassion had been sewing through his dormant chest. His face twists sourly as he practically spits his revelation onto Niall’s conceited expression. “You’re trying to manipulate me into liking her!”

“Am I?” Niall inquires ominously, wagging his brows teasingly. “Or am I just trying to get you to admit that you already do?”

“I don’t.”

“Alright.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay.”

“She’s an inconvenience and a liability. I put up with her for Harry’s sake, but that’s it.”

“Sure.” Niall states simply, pushing off the car with the sole of his sneaker as the group begins to approach the pair. “Whatever sharpens your fangs, Scrooge.”

“Fuck off.”

But as much as Xander hates to acknowledge it, maybe— just maybe— he does possess the tiniest seed of empathy for the human. A microscopic one— a pollen grain, in all honesty— but perhaps it exists, after all. Perhaps.

[dream-to-be-frog]

hello just watched kate (2021) and. thoughts. spoilers ahead, of course.

things about kate (2021) that make me go ????:

mew is super pretty but. why is she a random white girl in japan.

moreover, why are she and her handler (henceforth known as haymitch because hunger games) both in japan !

it just. does not seem like the story needed to be in japan. it feels like they chose japan for vibez only. oh, there’s cool technology stuff and bright colors! that sure would look nice on screen! we can do some fun weird fetishizy implications about asians while we are at it hehe🤪

like 30 mins into the film @scrambld-egg was like “why’s it always the yazuka?” and like. YEAH. this could have happened in russia or be italian mafia or literally any kind of organized crime anywhere because of how absolutely little relevance it has to the plot.

why is kijima’s brother even a target? why him specifically? what did he do bestey

what does their “crime syndicate” even do? what kind of illegalities do they get into? did anyone even consider this

did anyone consider any of this plot, frankly. like i have to ask.

we all knew haymitch (varrick) was working against her after she suggested retiring and like. that kind of plot twist is fun and all but GOD would it kill y’all to make it more ... something ? dramatic, personal, thought-through ?

like. yeah he is selfish and cruel and obviously groomed her from a time she was vulnerable and a literal fucking child to be his little killer but WHY is he like this. we do not get any backstory for him, even a little.

similarly, what changed for renji that made him so willing to turn his back on family. we kind of see something in that he thinks he can do better than kijima and he got power hungry but for a group that supposedly cares about family he sure was willing to massacre his.

in fact, kijima even said something about how western poisonous mindsets overtook renji and made him turn his back on family and just. okay but for why

it’s just a Lot to kill a child, especially a niece or whatever she was to him. silly

we know kate was trained to be a killer since being literal Baby but like. i wanted to see more flashbacks that made her solidify her implicit trust in haymitch.

i am begging why the FUCK is she even in japan it does not seem like she travels much

for that matter, if she IS the kind of assassin who travels a lot (i miss villanelle at least she fucking made sense), they literally never mention it. they literally do not talk about her life experiences aside from freaky haymitch being a weirdo awful man.

to recap: did she travel for her murder work? if yes, why not say so. if no, why the FUCK is she in japan of all places.

how can you have a story in japan about a woman and make her white

and then have her massacre a bunch of asian men for no reason that we know. i didn’t even know to hate them i just felt bad and there is something unsettling (as an article i found articulated better than i could as i watched) about watching her mindlessly murder a bunch of poc.

like i get the reason why ani was obsessed with kate because she lost everyone and new mother figure saved her life but like

why does kate care so much? if it’s guilt, aside from her quitting because she can’t get over osaka, we don’t see any of her conflict.

i’m just. kind of bitter because the premise and the characters have SO MUCH POTENTIAL but the absolute lack of plot is devastating

and like. i can appreciate a good action movie with zero plot + blood and vibes only but the way that kate started made me genuinely be like oh wow! they sure have a lot to work with i hope they develop things!

things that kate (2021) could have done better to truly live up to all of it’s incredible potential; a list:

listen the actress is super pretty (she reminds me of renfri from the witcher and i would DIE for renfri) but like. she should have been half-japanese.

when ani tells kate “we’re the same” .... girl help that would he SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER if kate was half japanese.... kate would literally see herself in ani, a half-japanese girl who is forced to grow up too soon with too much violence around her.... the parallels between the lives they could lead and have lead would be so much cooler....

and it would goddamn explain why the FUCK she was in japan oh my god it is just so seems white savioury even though kate doesn’t play the hero and like

a flashback scene (NOT a flash of one) where she was younger and haymitch was coaching her and something goes wrong and you see that weird freaky deaky bond demonstrating her implicit trust in him.

how can you have ani LITERALLY SAY “i’m the last person you’ll ever get to know. are you sure you don’t want to know me? that’s sad, kate. that’s sad.” AND LITERALLY NEVER HAVE KATE LEARN MORE ABOUT HER

like they made kate fall asleep like IMMEDIATELY after, so everything she could have learned about ani was said to her when she was passed out. and it made the scene where ani takes selfies with her kinda weird because there is not that much emotional impact

similarly her death was anticlimactic? i like when action movies have anticlimactic deaths but those deaths usually have some emotional impact and. this was so hollow besties

it just is such a shame because the cinematography was BRILLIANT and again there was. SO MUCH POTENTIAL for a movie to MEAN something

there were a couple of metal lines too, but those seemed hollow as well. “i’m dying. i have to finish... i have to finish something.” could have been SO GOOD. “my life was never mine. until now.” (this one may not be verbatim i cannot remember exactly) could have been SO GOOD. the basic premise was all there... she was regaining control of her life hours before her death, the poetry is all there, just BEGGING to mean something. but it doesn’t, in the end. it doesn’t mean much at all.

some action movies are good for nothing but blood and i can respect that. but when a story is TRYING to have a point but misses in delivering... that’s when i get upset. i love mindless shit but if you want me to care, fucking make me care, kings!!!!

that is all.

anyway. thoughts?

[adhdeancas]

Dean gets screened for ADHD

“I don’t really buy into the whole ‘shrink’ thing,” he blurted out as soon as he got in the door. The woman in the white coat raised an eyebrow at him, not unkindly. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a shrink, then.”

Dean floundered at that. He nodded and sat awkwardly in the chair across from the psychiatrist, perched on the edge, just in case. His fingertips bounced nervously against his leg. “Okay, yeah, sure, but- you know, the whole-” another indiscriminate arm wave, another soft smile. 

“Mental health?”

“My brother thought I should come.” he confirmed, sighing and resigning himself to his fate finally. He settled back further into the chair. “Well and my- my buddy.” he looked down, his heartbeat picking up a little. 

“I am going to have to ask you some questions, though.”

“Hm? Uh, yeah, go ahead, whatever you gotta do.”

Dr. Pearson took out her clipboard, an action which stopped Dean in his tracks. He was starting to feel a little boxed in. “So, first off, what are you here for? I mean, besides placating your brother.”

Dean grinned at her, the knot in his chest loosening a little. “Yeah, uh… so my brother and my… friend, they think I’ve got ADHD”

“Do you think you have ADHD?”

Dean blinked at her. “I- I dunno, I mean, I’m a little old for that, ain’t I?”

The doctor shrugged. “ADHD doesn’t have an age limit. And you’re never too old to improve your life.”

Dean held his hands up in defense. He didn’t want her to think he was just flat out dismissing it, but… “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucked up in a thousand different ways, but for once… my life kinda feels… good. I got a good thing going. Don’t know how much I wanna change.” It felt like way too much to mess with, what if he messed it up? 

The psychiatrist nodded, interested. “Tell me about that. Your life now. It’s a recent change?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me and my family, we got past some pretty big stuff not too long ago, and uh… I got into a relationship, a good one,” he cleared his throat and wiped his palms off on his pants. “I moved and everything, and I kind of have a kid. And I have a job, a real job, for the first time in my goddamn life.” He looked up and beamed, so proud of his bar. His bar. He swore, everytime he talked about his life it sounded like a fever dream. 

The psychiatrist returned his smile, which made him feel like a third grader. “Those sound like some pretty big changes. Congratulations. And you said you had different circumstances before? Would you characterize any of your past life events as traumatic?”

Dean laughed, actually cackled then. “Uh, all of them?” From the patronizing smile the doc was wearing, he guessed she didn’t believe him. “I- I was a soldier, kinda. For a while. Seen a lot of bad shit.” The doctor nodded; she started scribbling something down on her paperwork. “I’m not, like, traumatized or anything, though.”

A genuine smile pulled at Dr. Pearson’s lips as she wrote, and Dean leaned forward, eager to see what kinda joke she thought he was pitching. “You know, in all my years of being a psychiatrist, almost no one has wanted to admit they have trauma.” She looked at him and shrugged. “Most people, at least, most people who come to see me, have trauma.”

Dean crossed his arms, knowing it made him look cartoonishly uncomfortable and not being able to stop himself anyway. “Okay, can we move past this part of the- whatever? Exam?”

She nodded, surprising Dean. “We can do the ADHD screening now.”

“What, so all the rest of that was for shits and giggles?”

“Background.” She was unfazed. “Okay, now I’m going to ask you some questions about your attention and work habits and how your day to day functions, they’re called executive dysfunctions, how they work and how they present in your mind. It’s going to be a lot of questions. You don’t have to worry about any right answers, there aren’t any. And if you want to expand more on an answer, please feel free. All information helps me get a more accurate picture of your mindspace.”

Dean blinked. Once. Twice. He didn’t mean to zone out, he really didn’t, but his brain just kinda glazed over the words, like they went in one ear and out the other without translating into English. The doctor waited patiently, and he nodded his go-ahead, hoping it was the right answer. “Yeah, sure.”

She cleared her throat and flipped the page on her clipboard, looking down at a list of questions she apparently had. There were a lot of questions, some of them confused Dean, and he had to think about them a lot. He’d never thought about thinking so much in his life. His brain just worked, what the hell was he supposed to say about it? 

“Are you organized?”

“Yeah, totally. Except when, y’know, if I’m going through a rough few days, then… nobody wants to do laundry when they feel like shit.”

“So your ability to maintain your cleanliness relies on your mental state?”

“Yeah, doesn’t everyone’s?”

“So, what goes through your mind if you’re having a rough day, or week, and you see laundry on the floor. Or dishes in the sink. What do you think, what do you do?”

“Well, I think I should clean it up, obviously.”

“And you do?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “It’s a lot of work.” He shakes his head. “No it’s not, I know that stuff would take me like three minutes but… I gotta get up first.”

“Do you find it hard to concentrate on work?”

“Yeah. I mean, sometimes. Research, fuck yeah. I swear to- I swear, I can’t read more than three pages before I-” He waved a hand in front of his eyes. She seemed to get it. “But if it’s like- cars, then I can work for hours and just - zone the fuck out.”

“What about watching tv? Can you sit on the couch and relax?”

“Yeah!” Dean started confidently, but then wavered. “Well, unless, I’ve like- I dunno, sometimes I just need to do something with my hands, y’know? Or some days, my car is my couch. All I need is my Baby, the open road, some music… But I can watch a good marathon, don’t get me wrong. One time I watched John Wayne’s entire life’s work in one sitting.”

“Do you lose things often?”

“All the fucking time. It’s why I try to be organized. My keys, my guns, my wallet, I know where that stuff is, I always put it in the same place.”

“Like a cubby or a bedside table?”

“Uh…” He scratched his head. Maybe he was batshit. Every answer he said made him sound crazier and crazier. “No. So, I put my keys on this one shelf of the bar while I’m there, my hus- Cas got this cutesy little key holder from a garage sale, so that’s where I keep ‘em at home. Wallet on this one ledge in the kitchen, and I’ve got a gun in basically every room.” He was hoping she wouldn’t fixate on the gun thing. Luckily, she didn’t. 

“But other than those things, you lose?”

“Yeah. I- I found this one ring I lost years ago in my trunk a few months ago, and I’ve been wearing it every day. But I took it off because-” He coughed. He took it off because he and Cas were fucking on their living room couch while Jack was with Sam for the weekend and he hadn’t wanted any… roughness to his fingers. “I took it off and set it down, and I knew where I set it down, right? But then I was afraid of losing it again, so I didn’t look for it, even though I know I knew where it was. So like four days later I finally look for it, and it’s not there.” He sighed heavily, and looked up just in time to see Dr. Pearson looking at him like he was a mummy who’d come back to life and started talking about the intricacies of hieroglyphics. Okay, so he had ADHD, apparently. That was ADHD. 

Dean left with a prescription for a when-needed stimulant and a weirdly light feeling in his chest. It took him five weeks to find his ring, right where Cas had put it in his bathroom drawer. He had laughed at Dean when he yelled at him, which brought Dean back down to a self-deprecating laugh. Later, Dean forwarded him an article about ADHD and object impermanence, and Cas started immediately giving Dean things he found if he thought he’d lost them. Which. Was A Solution.

[corysmiles]

Little streamer AU prompts!

-Thinking they were all humans, either Wil or Phil bought tickets for them all to go to an amusement park....but Tommy’s too short to ride. Where does it go from there? Does Wilbur feel bad and sob out apologies? Does Tommy say it’s fine and that they can go without him, only to get kidnapped/lost? Does Tommy say f*ck it and try to sneak on with Tubbo? Your choice :)

-The bois at the arcade during the meetup. They try to cheat the games by having Tommy roll skeeballs into the best slot, or go inside machines to fix the game in their favor

-While Tubbo has Lani, and Phil has probably had like a borrower coworker or something, this is Wil’s first time heavily interacting with someone so small, and constantly watches the others and stays up at night googling how to best handle a borrower. Some of the suggestions he gets from online are way too formal and Tommy is confused as heck at where he’s getting these ideas. Like Wil you don’t have to wash your hands before picking me up if we’re RUNNING LATE C’MON LETS GO

-(the angst prompt) Tommy was so excited to meet others his size and during the meet up he doesn’t feel included or something, and he ahas a mental breakdown. Maybe he hides in a small space so the others can’t find/reach him

-If you don’t have plans for techno yet, maybe he’s also a tiny and thought he was the only one of any of his online friends, but the group FaceTimes him and he sees Tommy is small too but doesn’t make a big deal out of it, just a mentions it in the conversation at some point. Tommy feels instantly better. “Technoblade’s a bigger bad ass than any of you talk freaks!” “Techno was already the coolest, but none of you have a chance now.”

-Tommy wrestles with everyone’s hands

If you can’t tell I love this idea so much lol

-🦎anon

omg I love your ideas so much thank you and I’m so so sorry this post is so long I was gonna split it up but then I was motivated and got really excited (also pls forgive me for any spelling errors this is long and I didnt want to go back and edit it) :]

Little streamer au drabbles

—————————————————————

When Phil and Kristen had originally been planning out all the things they could do at the meet up they didn’t take into account the possibility that any of their friends might be well...tiny. So when the day came for the group to go to the amusement park and they were stopped by security at the first ride Phil knew the day wasn’t going to end well.

“Sorry sir,” the man said to Wilbur who currently had Tommy in his front pocket, “Tinies can’t go on the rides here, it’s too much liability for the park.”

Wilbur just stared at the man in mild confusion, “What if I hold him though, there’s no way anything could happen.”

The man just shrugged, “I don’t know it’s the park’s rules not mine so you can either stay out here with him or pass on rides for today.”

Wilbur looked down at the small teen in his pocket and could tell he was getting upset by the confrontation. Tommy’s shoulders drooped and he kept his eyes down as if to not show the others his disappointment.

“Its alright big man, go on I can stay down here,” Tommy whispered and patted Wilbur’s chest reassuringly. The attempt at comfort just made Wilbur’s frown grow.

“Hey it’s alright Will I’ll stay down here with Tommy,” Tubbo said, “I’m not the biggest fan of heights anyways.”

Wilbur reluctantly agreed and handed over the tiny to the other teen who walked over to one of the benches to wait for the others.

When Wilbur and Phil got off the roller coaster they panicked when they couldn’t find the two teens until they found Tubbo riding on a carousel horse with Tommy hanging off the pole.

Safe to say Wilbur didn’t let Tubbo take Tommy the rest of the day. (Sorry i didnt do angst for this one)

(More under the cut)

—————————————————————

Tommy was so excited to go to the arcade with his friends. When they got there though and Tommy saw all the prizes he could win he started to form a plan.

Tubbo of course would be the one to help him out though since he was the only one that was willing to let Tommy cause any chaos.

It started with small things like having him help them cheat on skeeball or hit targets with his hands on shooting games until they started to look for more ways to cheat.

For the final plan, Tubbo watched as Tommy climbed through the slot of a crane machine and tried to push a large bear toy into the hole.

When he saw the bear he thought Wilbur would like it and while Tubbo was usually opposed to crane games since it’s just a “waste of fucking money” he wasn’t necessarily opposed to helping Tommy get into the machine.

Everything was going fine until a woman with a child came over to the machine to play for themselves; immediately Tommy ducked down beneath the plushies so they wouldn’t get caught and Tubbo began to panic when he lost sight of the tiny.

It was at that moment that the rest of the group came over to Tubbo and asked where Tommy was.

“Uhhh hes in the bathroom,” Tubbo said nervously.

Phil tilted his head at the boy, “Uhuh...where is he Tubbo?”

“Ummmm so about that big man we uh-“

However, Tubbo was interrupted by his phone dinging and his face went pale as he read the text from Tommy.

-Pls get me out of here big man I can’t get this shit off me anymore-

“Uhhhh...oh fuck,” Tubbo muttered, “Um I have not the best news for you.”

“And what’s that?” Wilbur asked.

“Ummm do you have any coins on you?”

Phil looked at Tubbo with confusion, “Yeah, why do you ask mate?”

Tubbo turned back to the crane where the mother and daughter had left and laughed nervously, “well....ummm so by bathroom I kinda meant uh the crane machine? Yeah, Tommy’s in there.”

The adults immediately freaked out at the situation because what the fuck were the kids thinking. And when Tubbo told Wilbur they were just trying to get the teddybear for him cause Tommy thought he’d like it, he felt even more dread.

After almost an hour of Wilbur and Phil putting in money into the claw machine they finally got enough toys out of the way to see the tiny.

With one more try Tommy was able to grab onto the claw and let himself fall out of the machine. Wilbur immediately scooped him up to scold him for being a dumbass but when he saw that Tommy’s face was red and swollen he decided instead to just slip Tommy into his pocket to rest.

With the extra cheated tickets though they were able to buy Tommy a tiny plastic nerf gun from the arcade before they left.—————————————————————

Wilbur was surprised at how quickly Phil and Tubbo were okay with Tommy’s size. While Tubbo apparently had a tiny sister and Phil had had tiny friends before, Wilbur couldn’t recall ever actually interacting with someone so small expect for in passing.

He really cared about Tommy as both a friend and as a brother and he was so afraid of messing up with the teen. He didn’t want to hurt or offend Tommy in any way so of course he went to the best place to figure out what to do: wikihow.

The articles were strange for sure but anything to make Tommy feel more comfortable with him would be worth it.

So the next day when Tommy was supposed to be eating breakfast at Wilbur’s house and Wilbur wouldn’t pick him up to put him on the table he thought the taller man was just being a dick.

Then when Tommy asked him if he would pick him up Wilbur walked away from him to go to the bathroom instead of helping him.

After a minute the brunette man walked back and reached a hand down to lay besides Tommy. Tommy stepped onto his palm and expected him to pull him up towards him but when he didn’t he started to get really annoyed.

“Hey you can move what the fucks up witb you right now you’re being all weird and shit man,” Tommy grumbled.

“Huh? Oh I just...I was looking up some stuff about uh tinies and I thought maybe it would make you more comfortable?” Wilbur whispered with embarrassment.

“What?” Tommy laughed, “Why the fuck would you do that you were fine before I would tell you if I wasn’t comfortable big man you don’t have to worry about that.”

Wilbur felt his heart swell at the comfort and slowly lifted Tommy up to the table for them to eat together. It was still strange having someone so small around but Wilbur would get used to it for Tommy.—————————————————————

Tommy usually didn’t have any problems with having bigger people around. All his friends at home and his family were all humans so he knew he was overreacting about none of his online friends being tinies. But when they went out to dinner together and Phil, Tubbo, and Wilbur were all talking together while Tommy sat next to Wilbur’s cup something broke inside him.

The reason he loved streaming so much was that he thought he finally had met other people like him, but he guessed it was his own fault for never really checking.

As the three laughed loudly Tommy felt himself becoming more and more overwhelmed by the chaos in the restaurant. He couldn’t cry now though his friends were having fun, it would be a dick move for him to ruin the meet up for them just because he expected them to be tinies.

Throughout the meal and on the way home Tommy was mostly silent, he sat in Wilbur’s pocket as they arrived at the man’s apartment. Wilbur waved goodbye to Phil and Tubbo as he took Tommy inside.

Wilbur sat Tommy down on the counter as he changed and Tommy finally felt a few tears fall from his eyes. He heard the sound of a door opening and quickly hid behind a tea box so Wilbur wouldn’t see him in this state.

He started to shake as the tears kept coming while he heard Wilbur searching around for him.

“Tommy?” Wilbur called out but Tommy couldn’t even get a solid breath much less respond.

After a few moments Tommy felt the tea box he was hiding near shift as a large hand wrapped him up gently.

“Oh jeez Tommy are you okay?” Wilbur asked as he lifted Tommy to his eyes.

Tommy wiped his eyes and slowly nodded to Wilbur who looked heartbroken by the tears.

Wilbur sighed, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tommy shook his head no and Wilbur gave the boy a sad smile.

“I’m sorry Tommy, we’ll talk about this later okay,” he whispered as he tucked Tommy up against his chest. He held the tiny until he heard soft snores replace the sobs and promised himself that whatever made him this sad would never happen again.—————————————————————

Techno had been tweeting at the rest of the sleepy boys since the start of the meetup. The American wished he had gotten to meet up with his friends but sadly because of covid there was no way to safely visit the UK, so instead they settled for FaceTiming one night so that Techno wouldn’t feel as left out.

Techno grabbed his specially made phone and anxiously waited for the call. When Phil’s contact showed up Techno opened it immediately and was greeted by the familiar blonde human’s face along with Tubbo in the corner.

“Hey Techno!” Phil smiled as Tubbo waved aggressively.

Techno smiled and waved back, “Hullo.”

After a little bit of shuffling Wilbur appeared on the screen with something cupped in his hands.

“What you got there Will?” Techno asked with an amused expression.

“It’s me bitch! Ayyy Techno,” a loud and annoying but familiar voice yelled form the taller man’s hands.

“Oh hey Tommy,” Techno laughed, but besides that there was almost no reaction to Tommy’s height.

“That’s it? No big ‘wow you’re small’ or like ‘poggers’ or anything?” Tommy asked.

Techno hummed in response, “Nah why would I care your nothing special cause you’re small.”

Tommy huffed and crossed his arms at Techno, “I’m not special bitch? I’m the only tiny here I’m amazing!”

A small chuckle left Techno as he realized the situation.

“And why are you so sure you’re the only one huh?”

Tommy blinked wide eyed at Techno before a wide grin spread across his face.

“Wait you’re small too?” Phil asked.

Techno nodded to his friends who all had different ranges of shock on their faces.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Tommy screeched causing everyone to laugh.

“See I knew this is why you were so much cooler than these bitches were alpha men you see,” Tommy laughed.

“Yeah,” Techno smiled, “I’m sure that’s why.”

The rest of the call was calmer however Tommy continued to insist that Techno and him were much cooler than the rest of the them. —————————————————————

The first time Tommy had been grabbed to try to get him to calm down or stay still it had been by Phil when he was trying to cook breakfast and Tommy kept getting too close to the stove top. Phil placed his hand over Tommy to keep him still when he felt the kid latch onto his pointer finger and try to pull it away.

“Ay what are you doing mate?” Phil laughed as the tiny continued to struggle with his finger.

“I’m wrestling you big man can’t you tell, and I’m fucking winning!” Tommy grinned.

Phil chuckled at the kid before flipping him over with his thumb.

“Yup you’re winning sure,” he said slyly.

When Wilbur and Tubbo walked in to Phil trying to pin down Tommy with his fingers while the small boy laughed and pushed them away as much as he could they had no fucking clue what was going on.

[junicai]

Aria + Periods + 127 = Chaos

Taeil

taeil has a younger sister, so he didn’t need her to explain anything to her

honestly, he’s one of the members she’ll go to first if she needs anything

the least likely to make a big deal out of it

just kinda

shrugs

and does what is needed of him

sometimes pain meds don’t do anything for aria’s cramps they get so bad

and on those days, she’ll slid into his bed and either

A: snuggle with him and let him cuddle her

or B: just curl up underneath his sheets until he gets back from wherever he was and then do option A

he really hates her periods

like, more than she does

because she’s always a little deflated in the upcoming days, and for the first two of the actual periods

and he hates seeing her in pain or be sad

even if the thing she’s sad at is the advertisement of the cute dog

definitely chuckles at her when she comes to him with slightly teary eyes and whines that she misses her dog now

but opens his arms willingly anyway, letting his maknae plonk herself in his lap and rest her head on his chest

Johnny

there is no better man to try and make aria feel better

that’s actually a lie

aria will point blank avoid him on her periods

he read once

once

in an article that physical exercise helps with cramps and the other pms-ing symptoms

and now every single time she opens her mouth to complain about her uterus trying to eject itself from her body

johnny’s right there with an invitation to the gym

he’s literally packed and changed, they can go right now

truth be told aria took him up on the offer once

never again

she couldn’t walk afterwards

he had to carry her out

asides from that though

he’s pretty okay with everything?

like obviously, he doesn’t really get it all too much, but if she wants someone to massage her back, then he’ll offer without too many questions

but when she’s crying about something?

oh ho ho ho

bear hugs

just a big ol’ swaddling hug that makes aria feel warm n safe n content

they heal everything

it’s aria’s life philosophy

Taeyong

totally understanding

she needs pads? he’s either already bought them, or will go out to buy them for her

doesn’t have a tracker for her, but somehow knows when she’s cramping the week before its due

once came up with the innovative idea of using their handwarmers as a makeshift hot water bottle when they were on a schedule and aria was suffering :(

aria gets really bad lower back cramps, and its super common to just see him gently pushing her onto the couch

so he can try and massage some of the tension

keeps pads in his travelling bags

completely unprompted - it just started being something he’d pack

like heat packs and pain patches and bandages;

period supplies just eventually got added to the list

was a little uncomfy with the whole thing at the start

but his older sister yelled at him

told him to stop “being a baby” and “she’s your responsibility, act like it.”

aria felt really bad for burdening him with it all

lowkey wished she was a boy for inconveniencing everyone with it

and taeyong had to sit her down and tell her no baby

it was natural and it didn’t bother anybody

that she didn’t have to hide it

that she could come to them if she was in pain because of it

Yuta

oh this man

when he found out that aria was getting lightheaded on her periods

when he found out that she passed out once on her period

did so much research on why that might have happened and how to help

literally stayed up all night and came to aria the next morning like

“are you eating enough iron?”

the answer was no, btw

made it his mission to make sure aria did after that

always has a little bag of nuts or something else in a side pocket of his bag if he knows aria’s on her period

gets concerned asf when she misses her periods

because he knows it’s because of unnecessary diets or her putting in extra time in the practice room

aria loves going to his room when she’s feeling miserable

he’s always down to watch a movie or just lay down with her

he’ll plait her hair or just lay together and press a lil kiss to her forehead when she whines about the cramps

hates hates hates when she cries

he knows it’s because of hormones, he has two sisters

but that doesn’t make it easier

will do absolutely anything to get her to stop crying

once went out at 3am to get her ice-cream

which actually made her cry harder

bc she felt bad that she couldn’t eat it because she’s lactose-intolerant

he just felt worse

that was not a good night

now the freezer in the dorms has a little tub of non-dairy ice-cream with aria’s name on it

curtesy of yuta

Doyoung

when aria first moved into the 127 dorms

he bought a little pink box with a lid that he then proceeded to fill with tampons and pads; the whole shebang

which he then put in the locker beneath the sink

and told anyone that if they made a big deal out if it, he’d kill them :)

incredibly perceptive

knows when aria’s on her period before aria knows

“hey do u need a pad?” “ why do i need a pad?”

*an hour later*

“oppa do u have any pads”

he’s less of a come here and i’ll comfort you type

and more of a, i’m going to help you from the sidelines without ever actually acknowledging it’s existence

like perceiving it makes it worse

honestly aria’s pretty thankful he’s like this

she loves that the other members take care of her like they do, don’t get her wrong

but its like, for five days - she can do no wrong, she’s accommodated, and sometimes walked on eggshells around

it’s nice to have someone who’s going to treat her like normal

to balance it out

does that stop her pulling the “i’m in pain” card when she’s about to get scolded?

no

Jaehyun

jaehyun doesn’t have any siblings, so he was really learning from scratch with aria

however

that was actually a good thing

because it meant that whatever aria told him; he did

if she needed a heating pack - he’d go find one for her

if she needed to just lie down for a bit - he’d take her into her room and close the curtains to let her take a nap

now, she didn’t take advantage of this

much

but she just thought it was really sweet of him

and tells him as much

and every time, he’ll just pat her head

maybe a lil kiss on the forehead

and pull the blanket up to her chin before leaving and flicking off the lights

that’s kind of the extent of what he’ll do

mainly because the other members have a lot of it covered already

but it’s pretty common for him to give her a piggyback ride somewhere

if her back is cramping a lot and she doesn’t/can’t walk

no complaints

he just kneels down and aria asks him is he sure

like she’s heavy or something

and he’ll just carry her to wherever they’re going

there’s a lot of fantaken pictures from these moments

people speculate that she’s injured or sick

it happens so regularly that nctzens are genuinely convinced that aria just doesn’t possess an immune system

Jungwoo

jungwoo was surprisingly well prepared when aria first bent over from a sudden onset of cramps

man was ready and knew what to do

he had hyuck going out of the room for water

and had a hand placed on her lower back rubbing gently

never really makes a big deal out of it all

although has told her to play it up once or twice because he wanted to go to bed and practice was running late

she did, and they did end practice almost immediately after

honestly, aria’s pretty convinced that all of jungwoo’s information on how to deal with girls on their periods came from a wikihow article

but that did mean that he had taken the time to look up a wikihow article

so she guesses she can forgive him

and honestly, the fact that he takes it upon himself to do a little of her chores?

she’s not complaining

after the first three times she felt bad enough to tell him to stop though

he didn’t

and now it’s just normal

is very conversational about it all

has no problem with asking her what she needs, instead of hovering around and guessing

which makes it easier on aria as well

the first few times, she felt quite burdensome

and jungwoo levelled her with a look when she told him this

“the only way you’d be burdensome, is if you didn’t talk to the rest of us and suffered silently - in pain.”

that was the end of that really

Mark

unfortunately for mark

aria got her first period when she was with him

poor boy thought she was going to die

“ohmygod you’re bleeding - you’re BLEEDING-”

aria had to calm him down before going to the bathroom

he is pretty oblivious as to what exactly goes on

aria complained once that she missed her last two periods because of the stupid diet she was on

mark literally thought she was going to die

very concerned

she had to sit him down and tell him that no, she wasn’t going to die  

he’s gotten better over the years

as a topic, he’s still pretty uncomfortable with discussing it

but its less of a “i’m a man and this isn’t a manly topic” and more of a “i don’t know anything about this subject and i don’t want to offend somebody, help”

he did by her her first hot water bottle cover though

up until then, she had been using hot water bottles wrapped in towels to prevent her skin from burning

but mark showed up one morning

with a yellow fuzzy thing hidden behind her back

it was a winnie the pooh cover :(

Donghyuck

cuddle buddies

that’s his main role

aria on her period? donghyuck’s pulling out the fluffy blankets and making a pile of her plushies on his bed

time to pull out netflix and cuddle

aria could cry every single time she walks into his room and he’s just opening the covers for her to slip underneath

he does it every time

and somehow she’s still not expecting it

it’s been five years bestie

has accidentally made her cry on more than once occasion though

he doesn’t mean to!

sometimes he’ll say something in passing

and aria will get upset but won’t show it

because she knows she’s not actually upset - it’s just hormones

so she doesn’t tell him she’s upset

and just leaves to go to her own room

does that stop doyoung telling hyuck off for being insensitive?

no

not at all

but he’s normally really good! especially after the first few times

living together has generally made him more preceptive

also just growing up in general

if her cramps are really bad she’ll wake up during the night

and if she had slept in hyuck’s bed the night before

then he usually takes it upon himself to go get her pain meds and a hot water bottle

he’ll rub her back and help her fall back asleep

and then he’ll make sure to write down in his phone that she took x brand of pain meds, so in the morning she’ll have to take y instead

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: You Move In Together

Characters: Tadashi Hamada, Dewey Finn, Diana Prince, Cassian Andor, Clark Kent

Tadashi Hamada

It started out with a kiss – how did it end up like this?

“This” being you holding a flashlight as high up as your crossed arms would let you as you bemusedly watched your boyfriend fiddle with the generator. Though, you already knew that answer: You two had finally settled down to relax and watch a movie (a little treat for getting through your third day of moving into your new apartment), when a flickering light coming from the kitchen began to distract you from your peripheral. Ever the assure-er, your beloved boyfriend insisted it wasn’t anything serious, that it could easily wait until the morning, and give you a kiss of comfort for good measure. But no: It could not wait until morning. It would not wait until morning.

Instead, whatever was going on waited until the climax of the movie to decide to blow the power out, plunging you both into a well of darkness. You groaned loudly, realizing that this meant the both of you would have to wait until morning to get somebody out here to check it out.

“Why wait?” Tadashi asked. “You have one of SFIT’s finest living with you!”

Surprisingly, robotics and electrical engineering were not quite the same – even one of SFIT’s finest could (and did) find himself struggling to figure out what the problem was.

And for as bemused as you were about the entire situation . . . some part of you couldn’t help but find the tiniest kernels of enjoyment in it. It was that part of you that knew that, a couple years in the future, this would be looked upon as a sweet moment. One of those moments older couples remember when looking back on how far they’d come together.

You two had only been moved in to your apartment for less than a month and already your lives felt so full of potential memories: From Tadashi attempting to make “the first breakfast of the rest of your lives” (and subsequently setting off your kinda crappy fire alarm); to you slipping down the stairs on your butt and thus earning his light taunts as he inspected the damage; to the both of you waking up to find your inflatable mattress had deflated overnight after only two nights of sleeping on it.

Your lives felt so full . . . yet it was clearly only the beginning. And that was certainly something to look forward to. Well, that, and having dependable electricity.

“Okay!” you heard Tadashi exclaim, rising up from his previous position. You didn’t need to direct the flashlight at his face to know that he was sporting that confident smile of his. “This time, I think I’ve got it. ‘And the Lord said --” He positioned his finger on the switch. “ ‘Let there be light!’” And with that, he gave it a victorious flip.

Nothing. Still darkness. The only thing that changed was that the silence was now awkward and well-earned. It was only broken by a single clap of hands.

“. . .  You craving McNuggets? I’m craving McNuggets.”

You blinked. “McNug -- Tadashi, it’s almost midnight.”

“McNuggets, (Y/N)! Let’s go! We can pick up donuts after!” Tadashi insisted, gently pushing you towards the coat closet to retrieve a jacket. In the hustle and bustle, you gave up trying to stay unimpressed about the entire evening: You simply had to let out a laugh.

“Oh, Tadashi,” you sighed as you shook your head slowly, though not completely without adoration.

Yeah, you were both in it for the long run. And if you had known this sort of thing would happen, you still would’ve chosen him to be with. After all, if this kept up, your lives would be truly full before you knew it.

Dewey Finn

Statistically speaking, Staten Island is the cheapest borough to live in. However, New York is still New York. Meaning that you two are the very image that comes to mind when someone thinks about a young couple trying to make it work: The apartment is small; the walls aren’t paper-thin per se, but let’s just say you’d made cardboard club houses from sturdier stock; the quality of certain utilities isn’t exactly stellar, either, given that it was the best the two of you could afford; and you were both in positions that didn’t normally pay especially well in terms of making six figures.

And yet you both were pretty satisfied with the living situation.

Sure, moving your stuff in together was like playing life-size Tetris (with the added “bonus” of having to pick and choose what would be moved into storage and what you’d have to just give away). But after you got into the groove of things, it seemed to pale in comparison to the lives you’d begun to develop as a cohabiting couple.

For one, this was the first time in a long while where Dewey had actually lived in a clean/livable living space. Maybe not pristine, but there had been an established regimen of sorts: Dishes would be cleaned (even if begrudgingly) amongst the two of you; trash was taken out instead of left to grow into a mountain of pizza boxes and soda bottles and whatnot; and for the first time since he’d left his ma’s house, the mattress lay upon an actual box spring rather than a bunch of milk crates filled with records.

Completing the picture of the young struggling pre-famous by way of Dewey becoming a rock god couple was the assortment of Struggle Meals™ that had become a part of your day-to-day lives. Sure, you tried to eat healthy, but let’s be real: Cooking can be such a pain in the ass. It took a while, but you eventually had to agree for the betterment of your budgets to limit eating out to the weekends every other weekend. Until then, weird salads and Chili Mac and crockpots full of “let’s see what happens when we throw all this stuff in because their best by dates are coming and we kinda need to not waste this shit” stew would have to hold you guys over.

And yet, it wasn’t all bad.

There would be nights when Dewey would be on a song-writing kick up until one or chord would stump him, or nights where you’d have to bring paperwork home and you would begin to contemplate the consequences of just flinging it out the window. In moments like those, you were one anothers’ biggest cheerleaders.

You would continue to be one of the only people that could get Dewey to take a break, insisting that maybe going on a walk might help or maybe he can stop for a moment and just join you for a couple rounds of Mario Kart. And he would fix you up your favorite tea or, in turn, insist that you take a break before you slammed your face into the wall. It rarely actually mattered what one did for the other in that specific moment because no matter what it was, it was all the other needed to get over that roadblock.

And then there were those quiet moments . . . Dewey was never a quiet person, never really was into the quiet. But when you two moved in together, he sort of had to learn to respect those for your sake. And even though it was (and still can be) a bit of a struggle . . . you make it so much easier for him. Just by linking your hands together or running your fingers through his hair while you read. Or by rubbing his shoulders while you lounge behind him on the couch while he messes around with a lesson plan . . .

All in all, in some awkward yet beautiful way, you’re making in work. You try to take turns and share responsibilities, you both go and work your butts off to keep the lights on in this World’s Most Expensive Animal Cracker Box you call in apartment. It’s far from easy. But there’s just this massive feeling of satisfaction that hits the both of you when you come home after a long day of work, collapse on the couch, glance at each other with the most exhausted faces and go, “Wow, you look like shit.” Punctuated with a kiss, of course.

(Hey, it’s a Staten Island love story.)

Diana Prince

It all just sort of happened, really. There wasn’t any actual intention of you two living together-- at least, not at first. It had actually just started off with you coming over to Diana’s place just to house-sit whenever she had to go on a mission or even back home (after all, who better to watch her home than her beloved). Of course, this didn’t occur too often at first: She’d mostly retired from the vigilante life by the time you two had established anything. But once Bruce gathered up the Metahumans for a common cause, Diana’s need for you to come by became more frequent. So of course that meant you stayed over more often -- which, of course, meant you would have to make yourself right at home.

When Diana found an article of your clothing mixed in with her own laundry, though, that was when it occurred to her that perhaps it might be more beneficial for you to just stay there. Without the whole going back to your place bit.

You never pushed for it before: After all, for as loving as she was, Diana was still a woman who needed her space, given her history. You felt honored enough that she deemed you worthy of sharing her secret with, you weren’t about to apply more pressure to her by demanding that she let you move in.

Thankfully, no regrets were had.

You felt such childish glee in the moments when you’d wake up and see your gorgeous girlfriend in the kitchen, boiling coffee -- you were actually a little embarrassed at first. But given that Diana was never one to hide her feelings, it didn’t take long for you to realize that she actually felt the exact same: With you around more frequently, the apartment felt far less lonely. Far more warm and welcoming.

It wasn’t just filled with "her" stuff because now it had "your" stuff -- as in things that belonged to the both of you now. And sure, it might've been just little things like desk plants or jello molds or gimmicky little mugs, but it didn't matter to her-- they were yours. Together. Like an actual unit!

There were discussions of comfort zones to avoid as many clashes as possible; you communicated with one another about what idiosyncrasies were and weren’t going to be potential problems and how to possibly combat those.

It wasn’t always perfect, of course, but neither of you would have traded it for anything after you became accustomed to your new living situation.

But the very best moments were when she’d come home after being gone with the League. Tired, sometimes even still in costume, she’d trudge into the apartment, right into the bedroom, before collapsing on the bed next to you. Even if the feeling of your Amazonian girlfriend crashing down didn’t wake you, the exhausted yet relieved sigh she’d release most definitely would. And every time that happened, the first thing you’d feel wouldn’t be irritation at being woken up: It would be excitement.

She’s home! you would cheer on the inside, even if your tired body wouldn’t portray as much excitement as you would try to sit upright to greet her.

“Welcome home,” you smiled every time, voice husky with sleep. And she would smile back. Tired, yes, but always with so much love.

“Hello, beloved,” she would greet. “How was your day?” She would ask this every time. And she would listen, no matter what you responded with.

It was a good life.

Cassian Andor

You fought in a war, you survived a deadly mission that turned the tide for the war, the war ended . . . Now what? You buy a home together.

Oh, if only it were so simple.

Neither you nor Cassian really had much of an idea of where to move to for starters. Sure, you talked a big game about the places you wanted to travel to and see for yourselves, but vacations seemed far more within reach than a milestone like moving in together. At one point, you humored the possibility of just traveling around to those places you’d marked and just settle down in one of them, but they were hardly places you could see yourselves actually living in.

But in the end, you picked Takodana: Lush, green, neutral. Cassian was admittedly hesitant at the idea of settling on neutral territory: To him, that would’ve been just as bad as going somewhere where they didn’t care that a war was happening. But you insisted upon it, voicing how perhaps the influence of a quiet life might rub off on him. Plus, it was hard for him to argue with how calm and quiet it all was. An adjustment from the bustle and yells of a rebel base as he had literally grown used to, but not an entirely unpleasant one.

He never knew that crickets could sound so soothing.

Really, the adjustment of moving in together came from the fact that it wasn’t moving into a small section of living quarters sanctioned by an army: It was an entire home, just for the two of you (and K2), surrounded by forests and near enough to civilization while still being far enough away to assure privacy.

It felt weird to Cassian, who’d spent virtually his entire life living with the opposite: Constantly surrounded by people, constantly surrounded by dust, near enough to others while simultaneously being . . . alone.

Only he wasn’t alone: He was alone with you. And that’s what made all the difference for him. Sure, he wasn’t going to entirely give up his insistence on investing in protective measures. And just because it was your home, didn’t mean you were allowed to slack off on the order of the pantry or how fabrics like towels were folded, as though you were tossing away years of mandated regimen.

But so long as he has you, his link to regaining his sense of self? Who Cassian Jeron Andor is without the war? He’s pretty sure he can make that leap and start his next mission: Starting a family together.

Clark Kent

You two liked to joke that it was done in order to better brave the ridiculous Metropolis housing market. Which wasn’t far from the truth, actually. But the reality clearly had more to do with the fact that moving in together, after being a couple for so long, just felt like the right thing to do. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the most mystical or romantic of reasons, but why complicate things? This was already a relationship composed of the Kryptonian alien who caused a calamity and the woman who helped to try and kill him for it.

The beautiful thing about your new living situation was that it was a unique blend of the mundane and the strange. Unique: You were living with Superman which meant that after a point, it became somewhat necessary for you to know how to clean his suit and cape in the event he couldn’t be home to do it himself. Mundane: Clark liked taking care of you, and that meant sometimes you woke up to breakfast in bed or came home to find that he’d run you a nice, hot bath.

Unique: Dusting and vacuuming high corners and hard-to-reach places was a thing of the past since Clark could easily lift the heaviest of furniture, lift you up himself, or even fly up to perform the task. Mundane: On some evenings, you two could just end the day by relaxing on the couch, you lying on your back as Clark rested his head on your tummy so that you had access to play with his curls. Unique and mundane: You now had the option of completing grocery bag trips in one go. It wasn’t advised due to the whole issue of discretion, but, like, at least the possibility was now there.

Mundanely unique: His fast metabolism meant that your fridge, freezer, and cabinets were stocked to the bring with snacks of all kinds. Uniquely mundane: Clark snored a bit in his sleep and as much as you loved him, no amount of love could make snoring cute.

But compared to everything else, you’d take it in a heartbeat. You never imagined yourself having a life quite like this, to say the least. But now you could never imagine yourself having anything different.

[peralta-guaranteed]

any hc’s after what happened after amy told jake about her past in 6x8?

This started out as only HCs because oh man is it a heavy topic, but then the blocks phased into each other... so now I guess it's some Jake Introspection drabble.

He obviously doesn't let anything show while he's still with Amy, getting her a change of clothes and that brush (that she does use), working further on the case and driving her home (she's far too tired to drive them like she usually does, and almost falls asleep in the passenger seat too if he didn't keep her awake with the most idle of chatter he could think of). He wants to be supportive and not pull her into another discussion or question-round, she doesn't need that on her shoulders and it's not her job to help him through this. But it's swirling through his head. So many more thoughts and questions and memories he needs to sort through.

Hence, this whole 'can't sleep so I'll watch tv' situation. It usually works quite well to distract him, and Amy has often found him snoring on the couch in the morning during a particularly difficult case, or after a fight with his mom. But today he can't even find a show he wants to watch, because his brain can't concentrate on anything on the screen.

Amy conked out almost immediately after they got home and had some sort of dinner, and he tucked her in and whispered to her sleeping face how much he loves her and how they're gonna fix this case, at least, and then he was left alone with his thoughts. Which is never a good thing. He's alternating between worry, sadness and frankly, rage. He wants to go back to her old precinct, find that asshole and, I don't know, shoot him? Probably not he's a cop he shouldn't, and even if he wasn't a cop he shouldn't shoot people, but he could hurt him somehow, right? He could take Rosa and Rosa would- wait, Rosa, does Rosa have a story like that too? She probably has, every woman seems to have one. Who the fuck hurt Rosa?! He's gonna find them too and-

He drops onto the couch with a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling the same way he did while lying awake in bed. The whole inevitability and pervasiveness of it all makes him feel... helpless? If that's how he feels, how must the women in his life feel, the ones this actually happened to? (For a brief second, the memory of The Vulture constantly slapping his butt flashes into his mind. The comments he's made about his 'tight, pasty ass' and 'lips that would work better on a good bad girl'. But this isn't about him, and he shouldn't make it about him, and he's being a dick again.) A few weeks later, when another round of 'can't sleep' doesn't lead him to the couch and tv, but rather to a little talk in the dark with Amy, she assures him that if he feels like it is about him, too - it might actually be. But he's not at that point yet, lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling, still faced with the many realisations he's had today about the shittiness of the world. No matter which direction he thinks about it, he always ends up at the realisation that something probably happened in every place he knows to every woman he knows, and how blind he's been about it all. Even if he, obviously, never did anything, he also wasn't supportive or looking out for it and trying to make it better-

Aaaand then he remembers the way they treated Amy when she came to the 99, many years ago. He remembers Charles yucky Wedding Bells comment. He remembers the first of many, many Title Of Your Sextape jokes, and how she'd twitched at it. He remembers digs about both Amy's dates and her un-date-ability from everyone trying to rile up the stuffy new detective. He remembers remarks and jokes about her eagerness to rise in the ranks. He remembers himself doing most of this. So he concludes that, yeah, he did do that shit. He's one of them, in a way. Maybe not in the top ranks, but definitely part of the team.

That brick hits him right in the chest, and he's this close to punching something - preferably himself, but he doesn't know how that would work, Fight Club never really explained it - but he grabs the TV remote instead and types into the Netflix search bar.

He doesn't just watch one Netflix documentary about it all, he watches a t least 3 shows. (It's another shock to see how much material about it there is if you figure out how to look, what a constant topic it already is, how he's barely ever heard anything more indepth about it.) He reads through online articles while watching, going into forums on how to be better, how to be a male ally and not play the White Knight, terms he's heard before, but never bothered to learn the actual definition of.

He's had about 6 cups of coffee when Amy wakes up with her alarms, so she doesn't really notice he hasn't been sleeping. She looks so cute with her still messy hair and tired face with pillow crease lines on it, he wants to hug her and kiss her good morning but is that okay? Right now? After everything?

He gives her an awkward wave from the couch instead, and watches her make her own coffee, and then pitterpatters over to lean against the cabinets when she sits down at the kitchen table. Always at a safe distance. Always not intruding or mentioning something that could hurt or bother her in her few moments 'off' of that case. Always going through the points he's learned now in his head, on how to be there, but not too overbearing, on how to not lead the conversation, but listen.

"Do I not get a morning kiss?" is the conversation she starts, though, because she always gets one ever since he moved in, morning breath and all. It's her favourite part of 'waking up with Jake Peralta in her bed', and today she didn't even get the main part of that list because he wasn't there, and she could hear the TV in the living room, and not even 6 cups of coffee can fool Amy Santiago. She knows he's been awake.

"Wasn't really sure if you- if it's okay-" he mumbles into his 7th cup of coffee.

"Jake, come over here and kiss your wife, please."

He kneels down next to her chair to give her the softest little morning kiss she's ever gotten, and she holds onto his face with one hand so he doesn't just up and leave again.

"You're okay, Jake. You're okay, whatever you do, so don't go second-guessing every touch now, please." She plays with his hair before looking at him again and god, those scared chocolate puppy-eyes are always killing her. "And even if you were not okay at some point, I wouldn't ever be afraid to tell you, and I know that you'd stop immediately."

He smiles at that, very tentatively, and the next kiss she gets is just as timid, but she gets it at least. And then she gets pulled into a bear hug too, while he's still kneeling in front of her, her legs bracketing him in as he buries his face in her shoulder.

"I love you so much, Ames. We're gonna fight this case so hard." She hears against her t-shirt as she leans her head against his.

"Tomorrow I'd like to wake up next to my awesome, supportive husband again. I kinda need him around."

He looks up at her and nods with fervor, and then finally kisses her the way she's used to.

(Two hours later, when he tells Rosa exactly what documentary kept him up and out of their bed that night, she feels something little but bright bloom in her chest, right under the garden of flowers he's already had growing in her heart. He's rooted there, right in her ribcage, and she's never letting him out again.)