#the video itself was way fucking more than that and both sides arguing about it are wrong anyway lol

[daxite]

i'm so fucking tired about how the internet has to dissolve every discussion into some fucking black-and-white "us vs. them" shit

[gaywarcriminals]

On Mouthwashing, Qijiu, cruel characters, and the role of discomfort in blorbo analysis. 

I recently watched a playthrough and some video essays about the indie horror game Mouthwashing (spoilers ahead). For those not familiar, the game follows a man named Jimmy in a crashed spaceship where he reveals himself to be an unreliable narrator and fucked up in a variety of ways as the game progresses. 

Although I’m not immersed in the fandom and thus have a limited sample size, I noticed that people treat him as nearly inhuman. He’s the sole bad actor, a terrible monster destined to hurt everyone. I find this deeply ironic considering the game’s themes of responsibility and accountability: isn’t this kind of dehumanization absolving him of his responsibility to act decently?

It’s also strange to me, because the game goes at lengths to show Jimmy has an enabler. Captain Curly is Jimmy’s friend and boss who is made aware of Jimmy’s erratic and violent behavior multiple times, chooses to do nothing, and ultimately makes possible many deaths through his inaction. Aside from Jimmy’s public outbursts, there are even scenes with a specific member of their crew expressing how unsafe she feels around Jimmy. Despite this, a decent portion of the fandom sees Curly as nothing more than one of Jimmy’s victims, which is curious to me when placed in contrast with Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu.

Yeah yeah I’m blorbo-brained, but I think there’s a lot of points for comparison between Qijiu and Jimmy & Curly, at least in terms of their dynamic and social roles. Jimmy and Shen Jiu are both antisocial assholes with an unhealthy fixation on the generally well liked and affable guy just above them on the totem poll. They’re both convinced their superior is looking down on them, and resent the power he has (SJ less so, he has a lot of other reasons to resent YQY). They both use what power they do have to abuse those below them. Curly and YQY, for their parts, are shown to be explicitly aware of most if not all of their friend’s worrying/dangerous behavior, but do nothing meaningful to stop it. 

If they’re so similar, then why in the case of Mouthwashing is Curly often absolved of his complicity in the face of Jimmy’s overwhelmingly awful actions, whereas in the Scum Villain fandom, it’s just as common to see people pin all of SJ’s actions on YQY and vice versa?

Now, there’s a couple obvious reasons for this. For one, Mouthwashing is a horror game and Jimmy very effectively makes himself the antagonist, which lends itself to the interpretation of him as a the monster afflicting the other characters. For another, Jimmy sexually abused a shipmate, which is a particularly despicable crime (although so, I would argue, is child abuse). There’s also the fact that Curly is very physically robbed of agency for most of the game’s runtime, which might make it harder to see his power and agency before that point, but perhaps the most important difference is that to fans, Jimmy is deeply unlikable, and Shen Jiu is not. 

Personally, I think the reason a lot of people make Jimmy out to be a monster and Shen Jiu to be tragically misunderstood is simple: it can be uncomfortable to like a bad person. 

I don’t think there should be any shame in liking characters who are fucked up people that do horrible things, but I think it chafes at some sensibility within many of us, learned or innate, when we feel such deep emotional connection to a character who’s actions we would normally morally condemn. 

I’ve definitely observed that in some parts of the Shen Jiu fandom– it's the kind of sentiment that leads to discounting his canonical actions in favor of fanon. I’ve never found those fanons very compelling because I have never had any discomfort with Shen Jiu’s canonical actions— in fact, him being a despicable if pitiable mess is what drew me to him (I’m typically quite the fucked-up-evil-guy liker). For once, though, I find myself on the other side of this discomfort with Yue Qingyuan. 

I was thinking today about how one of the earliest things YQY says to SY!SQQ— his 9th line in the novel— was telling SQQ that LBH is strung up in the woodshed, where SQQ always leaves him after beating him. It implies not just that YQY knows about this singular punishment, but that this is an extended pattern of behavior. To me, YQY seems uncomfortable with the situation, but he does nothing to stop LBH from being abused aside from telling SQQ to “be less hard on him”, even though he’s the only person in the sect above SQQ, and potentially the only one with the authority to stop him. 

If Yue Qingyuan knew, did Luo Binghe know the sect leader had found out? Did Luo Binghe know he had been abandoned to his fate?

Like Curly, I think that Yue Qingyuan’s most unforgivable fault as a character was enabling Shen Jiu’s abuse of Luo Binghe and potentially other disciples. I think YQY’s motivations made sense, and I understand the choices he made, but when I think about it for too long I can feel a deep pit in my stomach grow. 

Why does YQY’s arguably lesser crime of enabling SJ bother me so much more than SJ’s own direct actions? Perhaps because I still want to see Yue Qingyuan as a good person, whereas Shen Jiu has already declared himself evil. Maybe I’ve been a little bit caught up in our unreliable narrator’s point of view. 

Fascinatingly, despite his adoration for Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan cum Shen Qingqiu never (to my recollection at least), blames Yue Qingyuan for SJ’s actions. Instead, he sees YQY as one of SJ’s victims— someone that SJ as good as killed, even if it was LBH’s orders that loosed the arrows. 

Shen Qingqiu has a tendency to, for lack of a better term, woobify his favs, and although LBH is by far the most frequent recipient of this treatment, I’d argue that YQY actually receives it more consistently. This is partially because he’s relegated to friendly NPC whereas poor Binghe is the Big Scary Protagonist, but the only time in the whole novel I can think of SQQ seeing YQY as a person capable of harm and fucking up is after YQY’s confession where SQQ puts it together with SJ’s flashbacks, but even then, SQQ sees him more as a cautionary tale for him and Binghe than someone who’s hurt others. Given this narrative bias, I’m honestly surprised* that more of the fandom isn’t simping for YQY too.

Ultimately, I think this discomfort is normal and worthwhile– something to lean into rather than away from. I’d even say it's necessary, should we ever hope to be more media literate than Peerless Cucumber.

*well, I’m not, but that’s a whole piece of fandom history better left untouched

[mattydemise]

There's a scene from Fleabag that I think explains pain in women vs men perfectly that you should see. Your view of masculinity seems old fashioned in a way, where people in the city (of any country) already live that freely, how you can easily show that softer side in art,etc AND still be considered/seen as masculine, there doesn't have to be one or the other😌

YouTube fleabag bar scene and click the first video

Take care xx

I watched Fleabag and enjoyed it enough to be annoyed by the fact that there's only two seasons. Along with the sharp writing, the Priest made the series. I thought the dynamic between his character and Phoebe Waller-Bridge was electric. Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest, is it not? It's a tale as old as sin itself. A woman tempting a man of cloth away from faith, away from fucking God itself, only for him to eventually decide, "No, I will go with God instead." It's a powerful dynamic and I thought the way it was written was both acerbic and beautiful. I have a lot of thoughts on the series but for the sake of brevity I'll save them.

Regarding the bar scene. It's just one writer's perspective on men and women and how we experience pain. Women probably do know physical pain more intimately than men. I doubt many men would argue with that. But emotional pain? And especially spiritual pain? I would debate that until Saint Peter himself tears the gates from Heaven and comes hunting for me.

Anyway, I think that it's your right to disagree with my views on masculinity, but I'm a man, and I share what I experience and what I think and feel about certain things. Some would argue it isn't very masculine of me to share what I share but I do it anyways because I believe that other men need to see that you can be big, you can be strong, you can fight, but you can still also be artistic and poetic, you can still create and inspire, etc. I don't think I'm the most masculine man in the world, not even close, but I don't think men should shy away from themselves or be ashamed of their anger, or their ambitions, or their deep intrinsic need for glory. My ancestors never shied away from these things, hence why I'm even here, and that is why I won't shy away from them either. I was put here to make my mark on the world, and that's what I'm doing.

[thehumanarkle]

I'm 42 years old, and have been on-line since the 90s, and I am willing to make this statement with confidence.

Both the screencap and the commentary under it are true. On the plus side, most Leftists are not like this, much as Liberals would love to have you believe otherwise.

The Extremely Online Left (i.e. people whose activism is confined almost entirely to Twitter and maybe BlueSky) *is* made up of accelerationists with no grasp of history and think that allowing fascism to win will lead to Socialism, which is what an equally stupid segment of the German Left thought in the 1930s. Their slogan was "After Hitler, our turn." It was dumb enough when people were arguing that in 2016, but they still try to say it'll be the case now. When Trump is angrier, in more severe mental decline, and surrounded by even more sycophantic yes men than last time. Remember how much his first term sucked? Well, no I guess not or they wouldn't be saying such stupid shit would they? "The Democrats need to lose in 2024 to teach them a lesson!" *pfft* If the Democratic Party were institutionally capable of learning lessons in that way we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

And then there are the Liberals. Oh, these West Wing brain dorks. Like, it's nice that they seem to have finally gotten over the stupid "They go low, we go high" thing, but it is just embarrassing as fuck that it took them this long. These people have this religious devotion to "The Process." They believe so strongly that, well, like OP said, that

there’s an ”arc of the universe” that bends towards ”justice”

that they don't actually to do anything, the Machine of Democracy will fix everything by itself. Never mind that for the past 50+ years Conservatives have stripped that machine for spare parts and smeared feces on the remains. Honestly, what can I even say about the problems with how Liberals view how democracy works that wasn't nailed in this Ian Danskin video?

A lot of nice sentiments that ultimately lead to fascists gaining more power because Liberals value civility beyond the point of reason. Well, unless that Liberal takes money from AIPAC and you're pro-Palestinian, but I digress.

Um, crap, I actually forgot what I was going to write next. I got distracted by house stuff.

Yeah, so, tl;dr, the Extremely Online Left needs to touch grass, Liberals need to either move Left or at the very least be willing to compromise with us, and Conservatives suck and have always sucked going back to Edmund Burke.

I'm gonna go get some caffeine.

for a certain type of liberal, any radical change is unthinkable, just primitive superstision, and the only real way to achieve anything is to surrender it to the hands of the ”lesser evil” party year after year without deigning to demand a single thing from them, and defending every bad decision they make, based on a purely non-idealistic, not-in-any-way religious belief that there’s an ”arc of the universe” that bends towards ”justice”

[dorimena]

I seriously love Bakugou and Todoroki. Especially Bakugou in his tight winter costume in S5. And I love Dom reader and femdom more than a sub. Can I pleaseee request Todoroki or Bakugou where the reader is recording them playing with a vibrator or dildo but get overstimulated because they can't cum from the cock ring because it's their punishments since they forgot their anniversary so reader also forget to stop the toys even if they beg reader to stop in the camera.if you don't mind the request

I don’t mind~ May your sin be forgiven with this prayer (˘⌣˘人) This sounds really, really sexy, so I had a blast imagining and putting this into words.

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki & todoroki shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, sex toys (dildo, vibrators, cockring), overstimulation, cam sex (recording), exhibitionism, semi-public, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; balcony sex (?), threesome, whiny Bakugou, weeping Todoroki, punishment, orgasm denial, aged-up characters, Bakugou and Todoroki are both 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; Unravel Me by Sabrina Claudio and Fuck Love by XXXTENTACION ft. Trippie Reid somehow helped me piece this together. Sorry if there are any typos! It’s not proofread.

𝕯𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊

“I-I-”

“W-we! We-”

You watch as both men struggle to speak, trying to ask for forgiveness, once again. It’s the fourth time this hour, the way Bakugou tries to open his mouth wide enough to not slur his words and Todoroki tries to correct Bakugou while keeping himself coherent.

It’s cute how the smartest guys in your life seem to fail miserably in having a decent human conversation

Well, you can’t blame them either, not with the way you keep toying around with the intensity of the vibrators taped to their dicks, cum drying on the toy enough to show anyone who looks up on the balcony that these two men, with such stature and muscles, are easily falling apart.

“Speak better, sweethearts. Can’t have you guys sounding so dumb on camera, right?”

Oh yeah, and you’re even recording them, in case anyone else would want to watch the rising proheros break.

You’re not actually going to show them to the public, but maybe to their friends. Maybe Kirishima would like to watch? Kaminari? Sero? Or maybe Iida? Midoriya?

Heck, the girls might even ask some day.

But you know what makes you curious about showing this video to their friends?

The way both Bakugou and Todoroki are presenting themselves beautifully, as if they’re pro porn stars saving the wanks rather than proheros saving the day.

It’s cute, how Bakugou’s puffing his muscular chest in the air as if they were the juiciest tits ever, which they are, and how Todoroki is somehow sensually humping the air with every buzz against his furious red tip.

Your eyes stay on the screen, making sure the lighting is entering nice enough to make it seem like they’re glowing, other than their post-orgasm glow.

How many times have they come by now?

“Babes, how many times have you cum?”

They both shake their heads.

Of course they wouldn’t know. They just take what they’re receiving. They’re making up for their mistake.

You still pout, tapping the touchable screen to even out the weird lighting as another cloud covers the sun, again.

Maybe giving their punishment out on the balcony wasn’t such a good idea.

As you look down to the floor below them, seeing the once growing puddle of cum slowly be pushed by the wind to trail off towards the side of the balcony, seeping through the small opening and probably dripping feets below is what keeps you positive, happy knowing people will eventually look up and wonder ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Well, either the drying cum gives away your dirty activities or it’s Todoroki’s wailing as an orgasm is ripped out of him forcibly.

Pity nothing comes from his tip, not since some time ago.

They both thought they deserve to cum and be satisfied?

Maybe you should’ve put the cock rings on them before making them come the first two times, but their reactions and frustration with how little some cum leaves or how their body reacts with the dry convulsions makes you giggle in pride.

Pretty babes.

“Todoroki, shut up. You’ll make the neighbors look over- oh! Oh, that’s what you want? I understand.”

And poor Todoroki is just shaking his head way too fast, enough to give him whiplash, but you just snicker as you reach over to a white box.

An unfamiliar white box.

Bakugou’s eyeing Todoroki in pity, wondering what the other will have to endure as he keeps trying to fight off his orgasm.

How he’s doing it, he has no clue. But god his dick hurts.

He’s been wanting to cum for the past 30 minutes, but with the way he resents this stupid cock ring, he’d rather not humilliate himself in front of you and figure out how else to please you.

Maybe he should offer to eat you out?

The way his body is super tense and his breathing is shallow doesn’t escape your attention, less how much pity is showing itself on his face as he shakes his face in disapproval with Todoroki’s recent dry orgasm.

Good thing you invested in this double dildo.

Neither of the boys take notice with how you’re lubing the dildo that looks like it’d belong to you. It’s quite pretty, long and thick enough to hopefully please your boys.

Even if they won’t get to cum.

“Bakugou,” you start, smiling as you watch his once bright eyes suddenly darken as shock takes over his face.

What the

“Fuck is that?!” He yells out, accidentally letting his body relax as it finally submits to the vibrations of the toy, his yell turning into an unbroken series of high-pitched moans, his hips losing control with how incredibly close he is.

“A double dildo, baby. Look! It even looks like if I’d be fucking you two, isn’t that fun?”

Bakugou shakes his head, gasping ‘no, no, no!’ before he falls forward, balancing himself with his palms as he sobs through his first dry orgasm. Maybe he shouldn’t have held back for so long, not with the way his body unforgivably goes through waves of pure unsatisfied pleasure.

Todoroki, meanwhile, is nodding eagerly, eyes welling up in happy tears at the idea of getting fucked, in getting more pleasure and love from you, even if this is meant to be punishment.

But, why are you exposing them like this?

They forgot your anniversary.

Your 3rd anniversary as a throuple, the anniversary Bakugou swallowed his bite and pride to confess to you how much he loves you and how he’s falling in love with Todoroki too; the anniversary Todoroki finally let loose the dam of emotions and even if a bit tipsy, agreed he too was falling in love with both you and Bakugou, how he hasn’t ever felt so understood, so loved, so safe.

So, yeah, how dare they forget?

But if they wanna be dumb, you’ll help with that.

It’s been a while now since you’ve turned off the vibrators and since you’ve prepped them well enough to take the dildo together.

The scene in front of you is gorgeous, ethereal, sublime.

You just want to ruin them like this everyday.

“Aagh! Ugh! F-fuck! Sl-slow do-own! Haaah~”

“S-sorry! ‘m s-sorry! Ca-an’t! Nnah…”

It’s cute watching them argue a bit, how Bakugou can’t take how fast Todoroki is fucking himself back on the dildo while also pushing the toy deeper into Bakugou. And Todoroki doesn’t actually look sorry, not with how his eyes keep crossing everytime he manages to get the toy to hit his sweet spot.

He’s trying so hard to win your forgiveness by putting up with this, but it’s kind of sad knowing you’re not going to stop anytime soon, or take off the cockrings.

Not like they know anyways.

Bakugou might’ve known, might’ve noticed, with the way he’s trying to keep this dragging as slow and steady as possible; with the way his precum is struggling to escape the confines the cockring gives; with how much his red and miserably hard dick keeps jumping with every push Todoroki’s ass gives him.

You’re lounging about, resisting the urge to get off to the scene in front of you, or else they’d start begging to let them please you as apologies, and knowing how sentimental this day is for you, you know you’d immediately give in.

But this is punishment for their forgetfulness.

So, as the cherry on top of this cum covered balcony sex sundae, you’ll also forget about them.

It lasted for a while as you got bored with how neither of them seemed to be reaching another orgasm.

If only the dildo had a vibration option.

But the vibrators still taped on their dicks will have to do.

So you turn them back on, and oh would you look at that! The cockrings could also vibrate.

The pleasure-filled scream coming from Bakugou and the cute, drawled whine of your name Todoroki lets out makes you feel grateful for thinking ahead, kinda.

Now both boys are writhing against each other, different ways to let out their desperations and dying need to properly cum manifesting in either rapid fucking on the dildo to simply submitting to the minstruations of the other party.

To put it in better, shorter words, Bakugou took the reigns in fucking the dildo in such rigor and strength that made Todoroki lay on his chest, ass still up as he simply took everything Bakugou kept pushing into him, mouth opened as hiccups and drool escaped. His eyes settle onto your form, watering as more tears gather on his waterline before dropping to the ground his face is resting on.

It feels so good, so, so good he can’t believe this is punishment. Even if he hasn’t been able to properly cum for some time now, he still thinks you’re being nice with them. Must be because of the anniversary that you sadly reminded them of.

He’s trying his best to push back on the dildo, wanting Bakugou to feel just as good as him, just as fucked as him.

And everytime the toy hits him just right, Todoroki sees stars, feels an all too familiar tingly sensation as he tries to grab his dick, but when you turn the vibrator up even more, his hands just lay on the ground, nails raking as he tries gripping on something, anything.

He really, really, really needs to cum. He wants to cum.

Keep being a good boy for you.

But all he gets is a choked sob of your name leaving his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed upwards as the strongest orgasm takes over his body, he’d be convinced there’s an earthquake happening. Small whimpers of how much it hurts leaves his mouth soon after, his dick twitching pathetically as it slowly becomes purple, barely a dribble of cum managing to escape.

Bakugou is in no good shape either, loudly moaning and crying out how good you’re fucking him, how he’s taking your cock, how good he is being, to please, please, please let him cum.

But actually cum, to let him contaminate the floor even more with his sperm, to let him taste it even, if that would make you happy and forgive him.

He’s close to wailing by now, hips going impossible faster as he forgets all about poor Todoroki riding out his high.

And the moment you turn on the vibrators intensity, he gets dizzy, breath getting stuck in his throat as his brain tries to process the spiraling of his warm, hot orgasm growing too much, burning him everywhere as if it were lava.

Small sparks sound on his fingertips as he howls and gets hurled into his own orgasm, back arching and head thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, not with how his mind only cares about how good yet bad this orgasm feels.

Not even how loud his high-pitched wails of how good it feels, how much it hurts, is enough to alarm anyone near the radius of this defiling act.

Both boys are left shuddering or twitching through their intense dry orgasm, the way their bodies react with the built up cum in their dicks, with how hot and how wreckless they’re becoming with their quirks.

Still connected with the dildo, neither move, unless it’s some pathetic hump to help drag the orgasm a little more before they try to even remember what letter your name begins with.

Bakugou’s whimpering.

Todoroki’s crying silently.

Both blinking the haze out of their vision as they remember about the buzzing, about the relentless feeling on their really, really sensitive dicks.

Bakugou’s crying now.

Todoroki’s just busy mewling like a slut by now.

And when they both turn to look at you, they gasp so loudly one of them begins choking on air and the other with saliva.

Where’d you go?!

Come back!

And ‘come back’ and ‘forgive us’ is the only thing anyone could possibly hear for the next few hours as they fuck the dildo and let the vibrators do their job in milking more and more orgasms out of them.

If only they’d look closer, they would’ve seen a post-it note stuck on the tripod of the camera telling them you went to the kitchen and that they better come crawling.

Oh well, you’re enjoying the view anyways as you sip on some liquor of your liking, turning off the vibrators as you slowly walk to the balcony.

The sun’s beginning to set. You’re not that cruel in letting them fuck each other in the cold.

The bedroom is much better, and comfier.

Perfect for you to finish the job and let them finally, finally, get their deserving orgasms.

You’ll be sure to milk out

Every.

Single.

Drop.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Competition - Bakugou Katsuki - Victorious Inspired

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff(ish), Crack, Jealous Bakugou, tatted Bakugou Cuz we love a lil spice

Summary: You were doing homework online with your friends when a needy Bakugou wanted your attention and was pouty when he didn’t get it. After Mina slipped up and said something stupid, Bakugou assumed horrible things and went over only to find out something so very comical.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

You were in your second year of college and the work was killing you. Thankfully, this time around, your assignment was the slightest bit easier, as it was a group project. You, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina were currently working on the project through the computer while being on video chat. The night was still young and you still had plenty to do.

“Okay, after I type in this paragraph, what should the next section be abou-“ You were cut off by the sound of a little French bulldog barking and scampering your way. The cute little black dog jumped onto your lap and made itself comfortable, causing you to look down and smile at it before petting it’s ears.

“Awww, look at the little puppy!” Mina said.

“He’s cute, right? I’m watching him for my neighbor while he’s at his football game.” You explained.

“You live next to a football player?!” The pink girl exclaimed.

“I do,” you said with a smile.

“Figures. I live next to an old man who likes to throw lemons at me!” She ranted. The group all laughed at her before continuing the job.

You all worked and finished about 4 pages of the assignment. While in the midst of the 5th page, your boyfriend requested to join your video chat. “Oop, hold on. Suki’s asking to join.”

You added your junior high school sweetheart to the call and was met with a frustrated pout. “Hi babe!” You squealed.

The group all tried to say their greetings to their friend but he spoke before they could. “Where have you been?”

“What? At home.” You said.

“I’ve been calling you, texting you, and basically blowing up your phone, and you haven’t been answering for hours!” He whined. His friends got a small kick out of seeing their tough friend be a softie for his girlfriend and remained quiet to enjoy the show.

“Sorry. I’ve been doing homework and-“

“What is that? Why do you have that animal on you?” He interrupted and asked as he slanted his eyes towards the small canine.

“It’s my neighbor’s dog,” you said with a pitched voice as you cradled the pup closer, almost like you were defending it’s honor.

“Her neighbor, the football player.” Mina mentioned with a sly voice. You shut your eyes and released a slow sigh as you knew what was coming.

“Football player?!” Bakugou shouted.

“Why? Why would you say that?” You said to Mina with a disappointed tone. She was one of his friends, she knew what the reaction would’ve been.

“Sorry,” she genuinely said.

“Why are you doing favors for some football player and what is he doing for you?” Bakugou seethed.

“There’s nothing going on, he’s just-“

“I’m coming over there.” He blatantly said.

“No- no. You don’t need to-“ without letting you finish, Bakugou signed off and went to get ready for his leave. You sighed at your jealous boyfriend and threw shady eyes towards Mina.

—

Some time had passed and your group had finished the 7th page. Almost done! Thank god for this being a small little assignment. Unfortunately, your boyfriend’s little fuss put you all behind schedule a little and it didn’t help that he finally made his arrival to add a little more drama to the show.

A bang was heard at your door. “Open up Y/N!”

“Uhh, I think you’re getting robbed Y/N.” Kaminari said.

“Nah, it’s just Suki.” You said to the blonde through the screen. You then turned to your front door to speak to your boyfriend who was on the other side. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Bang! Bang! Bang! “I need to talk to you!” He said.

“Sorry, door’s locked!” You replied. Unfortunately, the door busted open and you sighed in frustration. “And now it’s not.”

“He has a key?” Kirishima asked.

“No, he has a foot.” You said and then turned to your boyfriend with a sarcastic but also genuine smile. “Hi baby.”

And now here stood your angry boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki. He was dressed in his combat boots, a pair of black jeans and a white tee. He held a dark green bomber jacket in his hands that he wore due to the slightly cold weather out in the night. With the jacket off, his fully tatted arms were exposed along with the few tattoos that adorned his neck. He had his silver chain on along with a few rings and his cross piercing on his left ear and a few other random ones on his right. To anyone else, your boyfriend looked like a ruffian especially with his motorcycle that was surely parked out front. He definitely was an attractive man. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and you felt so blessed to have him and have him want you and only you.

He looked like the typical bad boy who was mean as fuck and also happened to be good at everything he did. In reality, he was just your Suki who was a softie that can be a little tempered at times. Like right now.

“What is going on?!” He asked in frustration.

“You just kicked my door open!” You said as you pointed to the evidence.

“Put the dog down and tell me about this football asswipe who lives next door!” He demanded.

“No! I will not put the dog down!” You said, cradling the sweet baby even closer.

“Oh you’re not?!” He said in a threatening tone but you knew your boyfriend would never do any real harm.

“No! If you want to meet the football player then you can wait to talk to him when he gets back.” You said.

“Then I’ll wait for him!” He said, taking a seat a little bit behind you from your setup on the couch’s ottoman.

“Fine!” You said, turning back to your friends. After a second, you realized something and turned back to face him. “No kiss?”

He only stuck his tongue out at you to which you pouted in anger and did the same before turning around. However, you smiled once you felt him come up from behind you and place a peck on your cheek before going back to his spot on the couch.

“Awwww,” your group of friends cooed to which you and Bakugou both smiled and rolled your eyes.

—

Some more time passed and eventually, Mina and Kirishima both grew too tired (thanks to that college schedule) and signed off for the night. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one who stayed up with you to continue to do the work and was more than happy to help.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” You said to the electric blonde.

“And me.” Your boyfriend said with sass in the background of your screen.

You and Kaminari continued to work until you got to the 15th and final page. Like what was previously said, very easy, very simple, very short. All you had to do was finish this last page and you’d be done! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans and an expected knock was heard at your door.

“Ouu, is that the football player?” Kaminari cooed and teased knowing Bakugou would hear.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come in!” You kindly called.

“Yeah, COME IN!” Your boyfriend rudely said, setting himself up to sit a little straighter and look a little meaner.

To his surprise, in came a young boy who was dressed in his school representative hoodie and a pair of sweats. “Hi Y/N!”

“Hi Ryu!” You said to the young boy who took a seat next to you. “Katsuki, this is my next door neighbor, Ryu. Ryu, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki.”

“Nice to meet you mister!” The boy said with excitement as he looked towards your “scary” boyfriend in the back.

“Hello Ryu.” Your boyfriend said in a defeated tone that he hid with a smile and wave towards the little boy. You smirked at your boyfriend as you recognized his tone. The tone he usually had when you proved him wrong. Ryu being the sweet boy he is also waved towards your friend at the camera to be polite.

“What’s up little man,” Kaminari said as a greeting. Ryu turned to you to pick up his little frenchie.

“Thanks for taking care of Natsu!” He said sweetly.

“Anytime kiddo!” You said, giving him the dog. Ryu pet his pup for a second before looking back at Bakugou and whispering to you. Luckily, it was loud enough for Bakugou to hear.

“Your boyfriend looks really cool!” He whispered excitedly.

“I know!” You whisper-yelled back with a smile. Kaminari let out a little laugh while Bakugou had a sad face. He felt guilty for wanting to come here to beat the shit out of a football player, only for that football player to be a cool lil kid who thought he was pretty cool too.

“Well thanks again! Bye now!” Ryu said before getting up and leaving with his dog. You waved at them until the door shut, you crossed your legs and smiled as Katsuki got up with a sigh and took Ryu’s seat next to you.

“Wow Bakugou, looks like you got some competition!” Kaminari teased. Bakugou only sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand before feeling you push on his shoulder.

“You gonna say you’re sorry~” you teasingly asked.

“You didn’t tell me he was 9!” He argued.

“You didn’t give me a chance!” You laughed out. Bakugou flopped onto his back as he began bantering with you. You both went back and forth and Kaminari chuckled to himself before signing off to let the cute couple have their time in privacy.

Bakugou remained on his back until you poked his face and he grabbed you before flipping the both of you over so that you were under him. He flopped down onto your body, getting comfortable on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair in a successful attempt to soothe him.

“Just wanted some attention from my baby.” He muffled out with a small blush. You smiled and looked towards your screen.

“Well Kaminari signed off, Natsu’s gone, and it’s just you and me. You now have my undivided attention, Suki.” You said. Bakugou sighed in content before going up to place a kiss on your lips.

“Good.” He said before tucking his head into the crevasse of your neck. You held him close while he played the small spoon and you both cuddled up nicely. If it was attention he wanted, it was attention he’d get.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan

[loomis-maxima]

Wakey-Wakey

Warnings; 18+ only, unprotected sex, somnophilia (consensual), mentions of alcohol, all the good shit

This is definitely not proof read, don't kill me. I just had the idea and wanted to get it out so I'm sorry if it sucks ass. There's a lil fluff at the beginning and end (don't get used to it)

DO NOT repost to other websites.

To say you and Johnny had an average sex life would have been the biggest lie either of you ever told. Both of you were completely open with each other and shared your desires and fantasies. That’s one thing you loved about him, and one thing he loved about you. No matter what was discussed between you, neither of you ever judged the other on what you wanted. If one of you didn’t feel comfortable with doing something, it wasn’t argued about. You’d both understand each other and move on with your relationship, never letting something come between you. Although this wasn’t the case with the latest idea Johnny had. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t what you were expecting.

You both had been sitting on the couch watching a drama, both of you with a glass of red wine in each hand, sitting under a fluffy blanket. The only light in the room was coming from the tv as well as the couple of lit candles placed on the coffee table in front of you.

You were surprised over what Johnny had brought up, but you’d be lying if you said the thought never crossed your mind. Somnophilia-

Even though you and Johnny never judged each other, it was something you had never worked up the courage to ever bring it up.

Hearing him ask you if you’d ever be willing to do it made your heart skip a beat and your mind scramble for an answer. The way you looked at Johnny made him think you were totally against it, his face turning deep red before brushing it off and telling you to ‘’nevermind’’. Just as he was turning back to look at the TV, your free hand grabbed his and pulled it towards you. ‘’No, I want to..’’ you said, your eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

A smile spread across his face as he nodded, ‘’okay then.’’ he said before kissing you lightly and turning his attention back to the TV.

___________

It had been a few weeks since Johnny first left to stay at the dorms with the rest of NCT. It was easier for him to stay with the boys when they had album preparations to do, considering the short distance from the dorms to where they needed to be, compared to the distance from your apartment.

It was the night Johnny was coming back to stay with you for a while, this time running later than usual. You had been excited to see him in person again. Sure, you two were always video calling whenever he had time to himself, but hearing his voice through your phone wasn’t the same as when he was with you, and you definitely couldn’t touch him through the phone. You missed his intoxicating laugh and his goofy self, spending the nights with him, waking up with him, the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of his skin on yours, especially when you were both worked up and sweaty, whether it be from a make out session or from working each others bodies for release.

You tried to be patient while waiting for Johnny to return, but with each minute that passed you craved his touch more and more, and with what almost felt like every second you checked your phone. As the night rolled through, you had found yourself struggling to stay awake, exhausted from the day at work you had. The last thing you wanted was to fall asleep and not be awake when Johnny arrived, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, finally sleep over powering you despite all your efforts to stay focused on the laptop that sat beside you on your bed.

It hadn’t been too late when Johnny finally showed up, or so he thought. Once he stepped in the door to your apartment, you were nowhere to be seen. He took a quick glance at the clock that hung on the wall before him as it read half past midnight. Shit, he thought to himself before he made his way to your bedroom where he knew you’d be, hopefully not pissed at him for being late.

Johnny entered your bedroom and was greeted with the sight of you, your back to him, the light snores coming from you being the only thing signalling to him that you were asleep. At least you couldn’t complain to him about being late now-

A smile spread across his face as he looked at you sleeping peacefully, the smile only fading when an idea crossed his mind. She did agree to it before.. he thought to himself in reply to the idea he had. He swallowed harshly when he felt himself grow hard beneath his sweatpants, he knew then that the idea was definitely a good one.

He made his way quietly over to your bed, dropping his bag and quietly beside it, taking off his hoodie and throwing it to the ground before picking up your laptop and leaving it on the bedside locker. He quietly climbed onto the bed, once he was beside you he noticed the way your breath was hitching even in your sleep, the way that your bare legs seemed to rub themselves together, unaware of the taller man's presence by you.

That’s when it registered with Johnny what was happening, you were really having a wet dream right in front of him. A smirk crossed his lips once that became obvious, soft moans slipping past your lips. Johnny knew that his idea would definitely be appreciated when you eventually woke up.

He quickly pushed the sweats he wore down and off along with his underwear, hearing you must have taken more of an effect on him since by this point he was fully hard.

He carefully pulled as much of his large hoodie that you wore up before pulling your waist gently back towards him. Excitement ran through him as he slowly pushed his dick into you, surprised at how wet you were just from a single dream. With each inch that entered you, Johnny suppressed every moan that threatened to escape him as he felt your walls tighten even more around him. Once he fully bottomed out in you, he settled for a minute to catch his breath and to refocus on not completely busting there and then. Suddenly he felt you slowly moving your ass against him and for a minute he didn’t know if you were awake or not, considering you hadn’t turned to him to press your lips against his like you’d usually do in this position, he went with the latter.

Johnny’s large hands grabbed slightly at your waist as he started fucking into you, he completely gave up on trying to keep his breath steady and his moans to himself along with starting to lose his rhythm already.

You thought it was just a dream of Johnny fucking you, not aware that he was actually making you feel this full. You slowly started to wake up and once the slightest bit of awareness came to you, you caught onto what was happening pretty fast. Your hand quickly met the hand that rested on your side, your fingers entwining themselves in his. ‘’Fuck, Johnny..’’ you moaned as you arched your back against him.

‘’Finally awake huh?’’ he said, you could hear the smirk in his voice as his lips moved to your neck, harshly leaving marks on your soft skin that was definitely going to leave some dark marks tomorrow.

‘’Johnny-’’ you said, your voice hitching in your throat as you tried to stumble out words, ‘’I- I’m gonna cum’’ you finally managed to pant out. You heard him chuckle from behind you as his hips slapped against you, ‘’it’s okay, you don't have to hold it in’’ he said before bringing his lips back to your sensitive skin along with his hand leaving yours to wrap itself around your throat.

The tension that had been building up in you was finally too much for your body to handle as waves of pleasure finally washed over you as your walls completely clamped down on his dick, your orgasm more powerful than Johnny was expecting. As he felt your orgasm wash through you, the feeling that was building up within him finally took over, his hips faltering as he pushed himself into you one last time before he finally released into you.

The feeling of him filling you up with his cum was too much for you in your oversensitive state, sending you into another orgasm, your walls constantly tightening around Johnny leaving him to groan into your ear as you milked every drop of cum out of him.

Once you both managed to catch your breath, Johnny wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him as he left a gentle kiss on your cheek, never intending to pull his length from you. Your fatigue took over again as you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the last thing you heard was a soft ‘’I love you.’’ whispered into your ear as you both drifted off to sleep.

[peridot-dreams]

beautiful people | shawn mendes

Shawn sees a familiar face at the awards show, and learns the value of realness.

The setting sun leaves the Hollywood sky pink and full of possibilities. Shawn finds himself looking out the window at it, still in a daze after the events that had unfolded that day. He’d won several awards for a song he was proud of. He thinks of the look on his parents’ faces in the audience when his name was announced and smiles. That’s who I do this all for, he thinks to himself.

His limousine rolls up the venue. It’s already teeming with people, Lamborghinis, and cameras. Shawn is used to such commotion, but the second he opens the car door, he’s bombarded with excessive noise - noise so loud that he can barely hear himself think.

He’s still riding his post-awards high when he walks in, still dressed in the same red carpet outfit as before. He has a girl on his arm, but not by choice - rather, an unfortunate PR stunt planned terribly and executed even worse. He greets his celebrity friends as he passes by, offering a small smile and a thank you when they congratulate him on his win.

He’s just about to ask the girl on his arm if she’d like to come with him to the drink bar when he sees a flash of silver in the corner of his eye. Shawn realizes who had just walked past him; he feels his heart began to pound in his chest and his breathing gets shallow. “Sorry, can I go to the bathroom?” he tells the girl on his arm, not bothering to wait for a response. He detaches himself and follows the silver blur, around a corner and into a dark hallway.

The silver blur is standing in the dark, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Shawn sighs and takes in the sight: the silver dress on her is absolutely stunning. Her hair and her makeup is perfect; he feels lost in her presence, stunned by her beauty. He’s never seen her like this, and it only adds to the pain of it all. His mother had once said that losing a best friend is worse than a break up and right now he completely understands what his mother meant.

“Y/N,” he breathes. When she looks up, he feels like running away - she’s looking at him as if he’s the dirt under her silver heels. He wishes she would stop, that she would run to him and hug him and make everything alright between them again. She’s standing right in front of him but he misses her, misses everything about their friendship and support for each other.

“What do you want, Mendes?” she mutters under her breath. She turns her attention back to her phone, tapping her toe incessantly. Shawn can’t stand the sound of her heel hitting the ground because he remembers that she tends to fidget when she’s upset; the clacking sound is only a reminder of their friendship that had crashed and burned for reasons Shawn still fails to understand.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Shawn blurts out. “I don’t get it, Y/N. We used to be best friends, and one day you just started hating me and I still don’t understand why.”

“Because,” Y/N spits, shoving her phone into her bag. “Because you’re like them now.”

“Who’s ‘them’?”

“All those fake people out there!” Y/N exclaims, her eyes glancing over to the party-goers with a disgusted look plastered on her face. Shawn feels her gaze coming back to him, judging and critical. He feels like he could wither under her stare like a plant in a drought. “Shawn, you’ve changed. You used to be so down to earth, so genuine, but now you’re caught up in the money and fame and corporate bullshit.”

“Am not!” Shawn crosses his arms as he unconsciously clenches his teeth. “That’s such bull-”

“Shawn, you’re the epitome of fake. You’re in a fucking PR relationship.”

“W-What-”

“Don’t even try to argue. It’s so obvious and even your fans know what’s going on.”

Shawn closes his eyes. He wishes that he could argue with her, but arguing in the dark hallway outside of an after party wasn’t the ideal setting to do so. From the outside looking in, he knows it looks like he’s changed but he needs her to know that it’s not true. He needs his best friend back in his life again.

“Look,” Shawn speaks, taking a deep breath. “Let’s ditch this party. I know you don’t like these kinds of events anyway, so I don’t even know why you’re here…”

“My manager made me come.”

“Right. Whatever, let’s just sneak out. Let’s hang out like we used to, okay? I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t you need to get back to fake-dating your ‘girlfriend’?” Y/N snaps, giving Shawn the most sarcastic air quotes she can muster.

“No, fuck that,” he says. Against his better judgment, he takes her hand in his. He’s relieved when she doesn’t try to yank her hand back. “Let’s just go.”

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Thirty minutes later, Shawn finds himself sitting across from Y/N at a dingy old diner on the other side of Hollywood. He watches as she twirls the straw in her chocolate milkshake. She hasn’t said more than three words to him since they left the party, and Shawn feels like trying to salvage their friendship is pointless at this point. Shawn knew from their now-dead friendship that Y/N was a champion at holding grudges - he just never expected to find himself at the other end of one.

“So how’ve you been?” Shawn asks softly. He wants to kick himself for how awkward and nervous he sounds, but he hopes that Y/N will take his nerves as a sign of his genuine interest in rekindling their friendship.

“Fine,” she mumbles. She takes a tiny sip of her chocolate shake. “Slow year.”

Shawn knows that isn’t true. He Googles her name every few weeks and watches every single interview she appears in on YouTube. Y/N’s acting career had taken off in the past few years, and she’d been getting tons of lead roles in TV shows and movies lately. He always gets a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach when he sees pictures of her with friends on Instagram, because he knows full well that it could have been him travelling the world with her, experiencing new things with her.

He doesn’t tell her that he’s been keeping tabs on her. “Yeah,” Shawn mutters. “Okay.”

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It doesn’t help that the diner is completely empty, save for the old man who owns it and is busy complaining about how “millenials are killing the restaurant business” under his breath. Shawn tries to focus on the owner’s mutterings, desperately wanting to think about something other than the fact that Y/N is totally not into him or the conversation that he’s been trying to keep going.

“I don’t hate you, by the way.”

Shawn’s head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide with shock. “Well, you stopped talking to me out of the blue, so I just assumed you did.”

“Well, I don’t.” She stops twirling her milkshake straw and drops her hands into her lap. She meets his gaze, eyes still hard and lips pressed together in a straight line. “You’ve just...changed.”

“I think we’ve both changed.”

“No.” She shakes her head, letting out an indignant laugh. Shawn winces at the sharpness of her tone. “You’re the one who started doing brand deals, ripping off fans with overpriced tickets and merch, signing PR contracts and betraying your fans…”

“Y/N.” Shawn’s hands are starting to shake; he rubs his thighs over his jeans in an attempt to calm himself down. Her words are cutting deeper than a knife; he can barely stand it.

“You’ve completely betrayed your fans, Shawn. You’ve sold them out to every company that has approached you, taken advantage of their trust. Damn it Shawn, you’re even endorsing overpriced water now, like how stupid is-”

“That wasn’t fucking me!” Shawn slams his hand on the table. The old man stops mumbling about millenials and looks in fear at the angry boy. Y/N is barely fazed, her hard glare still targeting Shawn.

“Oh really?” She narrows her eyes at him. “‘Cause your ass is everywhere these days, every time I turn on the TV-”

“Do you remember how my career started?”

Y/N stops for a second, but rolls her eyes immediately after. “Yeah, at some overpriced convention marketed towards prepubescent teenagers.”

“Before MAGCON,” Shawn interrupts. His eyes plead with her to understand, to see where he’s coming from. “I was just a kid, sitting in my room with a guitar. Singing cover songs and making six second videos even though no one was listening. Because I felt like it. Because it made me happy.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Yeah. That’s the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” A sigh leaves Shawn’s mouth; his eyes drop to his lap as he tries to calm his shaking hands and voice. He’s never felt so heated in his life, like every emotion is about to burst out of his chest. “And then everything just took off and suddenly I was signing with a record label and being thrust into the public eye. I was just a small town kid from Canada, but suddenly people were starting to expect things from me.”

“Shawn-”

“No, please. Hear me out.” The suit on his body was tailored to be comfortable, but in the heat of his rant it feels like it’s suffocating him. “It all went so fast. It was just one song after another and interviews and TV shows and concerts and tours. Everything was just going by so fast and every day, I lost a piece of myself. I was on autopilot, and my team was just signing me up for everything and I would let myself be led by them. Even now, I just sign contracts without thinking and allow myself to be molded by people who only care about money.”

“Shawn, why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” Y/N’s eyes are soft now. She suddenly notices how tired he looks under the makeup that he was forced to wear to the awards event: his sunken eyes, the dark bags under them, the lines that furrowed into his skin between his eyebrows. He looks like he’s barely hanging on to life, like the walls are caving in and he’s been trying to hold them up. She wishes she would have noticed earlier how lifeless he looks. “We were best friends, you could have told me about this.”

“Because,” Shawn starts, holding back the sob forcing itself up his throat. “I can’t ever tell anyone because I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I’m grateful, I really am...I’m lucky to have my passion be my career. But I’m so tired, Y/N. I just want to go back to being that kid in his bedroom, playing guitar because he feels like it, not because he signed a contract or because someone else wants him to.” He closes his eyes, sighing, letting his head fall back slightly. He reminds himself to relax his shoulders and take deep breaths. “When I’m on stage, I get to go back to being happy for just a moment. I get to forget about everyone’s expectations, about contracts and brand deals and PR and all the bullshit. I get to be me. Completely free.”

She’s stunned and he knows it. He’s just unloaded all of the burdens he’s been carrying; Shawn doesn’t know how Y/N is going to react, but he feels lighter, he feels better. He just hopes, so desperately, that she’ll understand his brokenness and the wreckage that has been left in his mind as a result of the stress and anxiety of the last few years. He hopes that she’ll understand him for what he is, not what he appears to be.

“So I haven’t changed, Y/N. I’m not like them; I’m like you. Money and fame, it’s just not who we are.”

“Shawn, I’m so sorry.” Her tear-filled eyes move in a frenzy as she realizes the falsity of her words and accusations. “I should have realized that you felt this way and that you were struggling. I’m so sorry for severing our friendship and for not knowing what was going on.���

“No, it’s not your fault. I just…”

Shawn groans as he sees the group of people that have congregated outside the windows of the diner. They both gaze into the parking lot, bombarded by bright flashes and deafened by the sound of cameras shuttering.

“Fuck. It’s the paps.” Shawn groans again, head rolling back in frustration. “How did they find us?”

“They were following your famous ass,” Y/N says, laughing. Shawn smiles; he resists the urge to point out that she’s famous too, and has more followers than him on Instagram.

“Should we leave?” Shawn asks.

“Hell no. They want pics, let’s give them pics.” Shawn watches in awe as Y/N stands up on her seat despite the loud protesting of the owner. She starts waving at them crazily, her peace signs occasionally replaced by a middle finger.

“Fuck you!” she yells in between her laughs. Shawn grins; he finds himself copying her and standing on his own seat. He starts waving at the cameras, reveling in the flashes and dancing like an idiot to the music inside his head.

“Fuck you!” he yells. He’s never felt so liberated in his entire life. He starts posing with her, each pose more ridiculous than the prior. They pretend to tango on the table, screaming when they nearly topple over the edges. He twirls her around, smile growing bigger and bigger with each giggle that leaves her mouth. “It’s been two years and you still suck at dancing,” he cackles. She pretends to gasp, then sticks her tongue out at him and at the paps outside.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, his lips are on hers. She doesn’t kiss back at first, shocked, but when Shawn is about to pull away he feels her hands on the back of his head pulling him closer. Suddenly, there’s nothing else in the entire world besides her; they’re not standing on top of a diner table anymore. It’s like they’re floating and Shawn’s body is leaning into hers and he’s never felt so complete before. The smell of her conditioner makes him forget his own name and he realizes that her lips taste like chocolate and friends aren’t supposed to know how each other taste but he doesn’t care because it’s her and it’s always been her.

When they finally pull away, Shawn’s gasping for breath and Y/N’s eyes are as wide as saucers as she realizes what has just happened. “S-Shawn. Your PR contract…”

“Fuck the PR contract. Let’s give the world something real.” And their lips connect again, for the paparazzi cameras and the whole world to see.

[darthwheezely]

Georgie Weasley HCS!

This is again, probably the first of many headcanons parts because the twins own mu ass and that’s perfectly fine with me.

Also please watch the video it makes me cry with happy tears-

Warnings: stupidly adorable men named George Fabian Weasley, diabetic level fluff, diet angst, me cussing oops

Let’s be clear: I love this man more than life itself, just because I’m a Fred girl doesn’t mean I don’t simp unhealthily hard for this man ok now I’m done let’s get into it

God, he’s such a soft boy

Like he was the kid growing up that hated seeing lil bugs being stepped on and would make it a priority to save them

“No, even bugs are living things too!” And would cradle them and set them back in the yard, whispering words of encouragement

He would frequently cry to Molly about how worried he was about if they got back to their families or not

At times like these, she was worried for her beautiful son but held him all the same

It’s the way George Weasley loves reading for me

This boy is a bookworm. Period.

He’s read LOTR more times than he’s liked to admit, and he’s read Romeo and Juliet enough times that when the Baz Luhrman movie came out he quite possibly saw it 5 times in a row

Like a movie screening a day. This kid-

That week he screams “part fools you know not what you do” to an unholy extent and Fred almost shanks him like 12 times

He also develops a crush on Claire Danes but that is besides the point

True story anyway-

He is a fantastic cook

No, like for real

If he knows Molly is busy that morning at home and he knows the Burrow is stocked enough with ingredients he can manipulate-

He’s making everyone breakfast

Like regular omelettes? Uh, Chile anyways have you HAD a George Weasley omelette

He hates following recipes too

Swears it “kills his artistic tendencies” but I really think it’s because he stresses over measurements

But that’s what Fred is for :)

His favorite muggle game is Scrabble

He whips literally everyone’s ass at it and has a copy of the Scrabble dictionary on him

“George, what the fuck, ‘aal’ isn’t a real word-“

“WELL LET’s CONSULT THE DICTIONARY HMM-“

He also just starts to make up random words

No one really argues this

So is it cheating?

Nah he just calls it ingenuity sis

Again, this is pretty canon but he has a lot of pent up anger issues

Externally, he keeps his cool light years better than Fred ever will, but internally, he just bottles it all

This is of course why George is considered to be the better beater of the two-

He waits until Quidditch to release all of his anger and stress and pain

Our angel feels resentful of Fred sometimes

He loves him more than anyone on thsi earth, 100%, but Fred doesn’t really understand how much people compare them both and how many people don’t see George as his own person

This leads to being a hyper vigilant Georgie, going above and beyond to craft the best plans

The best jokes

Just wanting to be the best at something

And Fred is there to hype him up constantly along the way, but never really will understand how hard it is for George to cope with his inferiority complex

George gets a bit clingy to his loved ones, afraid they’ll pull away when they realize he’s not Fred

He just needs a bit of reassurance and extra loving :) he deserves every bit of it

George Fabian is a crier

He always has been ever since he was little which led to a very confused Freddie (he’s not a big externally emotional human, in terms of expression like crying)

George is a big empath

He feels virtually everything that his loved ones feel which fills him with a lot of duty to protect

At all costs

George is basically young Arthur, I’m not gonna lie

He’d never say it but George just wants a daughter. Or 10.

To spoil and love and hold

He wants a child of his own to see run around and be crazy with

But also to read to every night and make them feel protected and respected and loved

He wants to be what his dad was and is to him you know?

Also um...babes is kinky

If asked if he’s a, t, or thighs?

Thighs. Every time.

This man is addicted to hips like if you’re dancing at a party and moving your hips?

Good lord he’s such a goner

He’s also packing but yknow

He’s super romantic

Probably the most romantic of any of the Weasley siblings

He’s sucker for old school romanticism and is the most chivalrous little angel

He also probably has a stash of pick up lines and romantic sentences in French or Spanish in his back pocket

Please god I love this man

He has DEFINITELY called you the following:

Darling, my love, my soul, my glorious one, it GOES ON THE MORE ILLUSTRIOUS THE BETTER

Please save me from myself writing this I’m a fred girl but god help me I would die for George Fabian Weasley

His favorite scent is of mornings

Like when you wake up early and you smell dew and grass and sunlight

That’s his favorite scent in the entire world

His favorite dessert is Canary Creams - honestly, he don’t even care about the “side effects” they just taste too damn good

You think I’m joking, Fred legitimately had to take them away from him during testing

“Georgie, stop oh my god we only have so many-“

“P L E A S E I’ll make more later they’re so yummy”

“STOP IT IM SERIOUS”

Basically our angel

And we love him. Period.

[mctherofdragons]

Born to Die | F.W.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: ANGST/SMUT 18+ only, major character death, toxic relationship dynamic, tattoos, gang activity, motorcycles, domination/submission, daddy kink, possessiveness, praise kink, choking, smoking, drug mention, alludes to criminal activity, blood/wounds/violence, hurt/comfort, police, arrest, gun violence, su*cide by cop. 

Based on: Sons of Anarchy; Lana Del Rey’s Ride and Born to Die music videos 

AN: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! I’m not going to argue about this being ~toxic because I know it is. It’s heavily influenced by Jax and Tara’s dynamic in Sons of Anarchy. It’s also a work of complete fiction and honestly, who doesn’t love a bad boy? I know I do. Thank you to Mya (@wandsandwheezes) and Lanie (@gcdric) for encouraging me to write this! Note about biker subculture: “old lady” is a term of endearment for a wife/girlfriend. If a biker refers to a girl as his “old lady”, this is actually a warning sign to other men to back off. Reader would want Fred to refer to her as such. ​

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

”He’s not good for you,” your mother’s voice echoed as you tossed everything you owned in a duffle bag. “He’s a criminal, y/n.” 

”I don’t care. I love him.” 

With that, you had left everything behind to be with Fred Weasley. He was a boy from the wrong side of town who you had met while tending bar to make ends meet. You had always been a good girl. Sure, your family had no money, but you were a hard worker. In fact, you had began studying to become a nurse - paid for with grants and academic scholarships. All of your dreams faded away when Fred walked into your life. 

Everything about Fred Weasley was stunning. He stood over six feet, broad shoulders clad in leather and tattoos, with a dangerous light behind his eyes. He had scars tattering his soft, pale skin. On his face, freckles danced beneath his eyes light a night sky, and you were enamored with discovering the constellations. He was tough, but soft with you. He wore his long hair gelled back,  adding to his bad boy persona. Fred was the most beautiful man you had ever seen - both inside and out. 

 He had come in one night close to closing, sitting down and whistling at you.  His brown eyes twinkled at you as he ordered a straight whiskey, flirting with you as he drank. “You’re far too pretty to be workin’ here all alone. Girls like you can fall prey easily.”

You had heard about men like him. They would roll up together occasionally, the backs of their leather jackets or vests donning the same symbolic patch. Outlaw motorcycle clubs with all of their criminal enterprising, violence, and danger had been something you would normally have avoided at all costs. However, Fred nearly radiated heat as he sat before you, pushing a tattoo and ring covered hand through his hair. He puffed on his second cigarette of the night, gazing at you in a way that made you want to abandon your good girl ambitions.

“You wanna go for a ride, sweet thing?”

After your shift had ended, you climbed on the back of Fred’s Harley, holding on tight to his waist as he sped down the road. That night he could have taken you anywhere. Even Hell would have been a welcome destination when Fred finally parked outside of a garage, pulling you inside. You were leaned against a different motorcycle with his hands exploring every inch of you. His hand slowly slipped around your throat, the cold of his rings pressing gently into your supple skin. At that moment, you had fallen entranced under Fred Weasley’s spell, unable to ever think about the life you knew before. 

Fred Weasley had bewitched you. Even with the danger that lurked behind every moment with you, the addiction to him had pulled you beneath the waves. It was a dark, deep ocean but you were content to continue being pulled deeper and deeper into the depth. You were his girl. That’s all you ever wanted to be - for eternity. 

+++++++++++++++++

Eventually, you had moved into Fred’s house. It was, like everything else about the man’s persona, not the safest place to be. At night, you’d hear gunshots rattling down the street. More than once, you laid awake, watching Fred in the moonlight, holding his own gun in his hand. You knew better than to ask questions about how the gang made its money. Fred often managed to shut you up with diamonds or kisses, pushing any questions you had to the back of your mind. 

One night, you had been laying on Fred’s chest. You were tracing the lion tattoo on the right side of his chest, your fingers dancing over the cat’s dark mane. “I’m scared for you, Freddie.” 

You gasped slightly as he pulled your hair behind your shoulder, pressing the pad of his pointer finger behind your ear. There you had gotten a small, but meaningful tattoo. The letter ‘F’ was sunk into your skin, marking you permanently as his. Fred was possessive over you. He kept you safe from the other members with a proprietary aura. Fred moved to attach a soft kiss to the tattoo, his warm breath tickling against your earlobe. 

“You know I’ll keep you safe, right, babygirl?” 

“Of course.” 

He slid his hand down your body, strong and calloused hands brushing against the skin of your side. He trailed a finger along the lace of your panties, slowly and painfully running the tip of his pointer finger along your slit. He moved the black material to the side, coasting two of his long fingers into you. He rubbed soft circles on your hood, causing you to gasp slightly. 

“Do you belong to me? Who do you belong to? If someone asks, who do you belong to?” 

He would occasionally beg for confirmation from you. “Fred Weasley,” you breathed, back arching as he attached his open mouth to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin. “Fred Weasley.” 

He fingered you fast, loving the way your wetness coated his fingers. He pulled them out, shoving them into your mouth with a small grin. You gazed into his eyes as you licked them clean, batting your long, mascara coated eyelashes at him. 

“That’s my bitch.” 

You melted at his words, spreading your legs wider and allowing him to climb on top of you. You dug your fingernails into his back as he moved rhythmically inside of you, making tiny scratches along with the tattoos on his shoulders. His rings pressed hard into your skin as he propped your legs up, keeping his eyes burning into yours. 

+++++++++++++++++

You were waiting up one night for Fred, sitting in nothing but his leather vest, donned with the club’s patch on the back. The patch itself had to be earned, and membership in the club was lifelong. The only way out of the club itself was death, and Fred knew that very well. He had another patch on the front breast of his vest - Man of Mayhem - meaning he had undertaken several high-risk tasks for the crew. 

He didn’t tell you much about these tasks, and you didn’t ask questions as you would stand at the sink, scrubbing blood from his shirts. He was gone late again tonight and you had missed him, pulling the vest on since he had worn his jacket instead. You heard the door ratted open. Fred stood before you, cigarette hanging from his ruddy, pink lips. He took a long drag, blowing the smoke up into the air. 

“You like?” You asked, standing up. Your lips curled into a mischievous grin and you ran off toward the bedroom, but he caught you by your arm. He had you pinned against the wall. He smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and motorcycle exhaust. It was then that you noticed Fred’s lip was busted open, a bit of blood dried over the cut on the top. It was swollen and bruised. His cheek, on the other hand, also had a large blue and yellow bruise forming beneath his eye socket. 

“Take it off.” 

You plucked the smoke from his mouth, pulling it between your own lips for a drag. “Why?” 

He grabbed the cigarette back and stomped it out under his boot. He latched his hands onto the leather of the vest and pulled it off of you, tossing it onto a nearby table. “No one fucking wears that patch besides members. Do you fucking understand that?” 

You had recoiled a bit, leaning away from him. He caught your face gently in his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips. You sighed, suddenly melting back into his touch. Fred was holding your face tightly as he kissed you. You could feel the rugged cut on his lip against your own. You wished somewhere deep down the kiss itself was magic - able to heal him. His tongue danced along your lower lip before you granted him entry. You had almost forgotten you were completely naked while he was clothed, once again causing you to find your rightful place as his plaything. 

“I’m trying to protect you.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

He stood back for a second, taking in the sight of you naked before him. You giggled loudly as he hoisted you up, tossing you over his shoulder. He brought a hand up to smack your bare ass, a loud crack breaking the silence of the house. When he finally got to the bedroom, he tossed you onto the mattress and you bounced. 

You propped your head upon your hand as he stripped, muscles flexing as he pulled his tee-shirt off. He laid down on the bed and you ran your hands along his bare chest. You were kissing fast and furiously, tongues battling for dominance. He had slid his hand between your legs, rubbing his fingers gently against your sensitive flower. He spat into his hand, bringing it back down to moisten you even more. Fred had an artistic way of touching you as if each point of pressure on your body was something he craved to explore. You were panting loudly, tiny feminine gasps rolling off your tongue. 

“You wanna ride me, princess?” You nodded, moving to place your knees on either side of his hips. Placing your hand around Fred’s shaft, you guided his length into you. You lowered yourself slowly onto him and tossed your head toward the ceiling, feeling your hair fall against the bare skin of your back. The way he filled you up was sinful yet otherworldly. Gently, you gyrated your hips in circles, getting comfortable. Fred placed his hands on your hips, urging you to begin bouncing. It was moments like this that had made Fred claim you as his ‘old lady’ - biker slang for a girl that belonged to him and only him. It was a predatorial move, urging the other men in the MC to back off, lest they deal with his wrath. It made you feel chosen, valued, and deeply cherished. 

Fred locked his eyes onto yours as you ran your hands up and down his chest. He caught your lips for a kiss, pushing his hands up into the tangles of your hair. As you panted, he spoke softly into your shoulder. “I need...I need your help with something. Are you gonna b-be my good girl?”

You continued to bounce on him, staring deeply into his eyes. “Anything for you, daddy.” 

He helped you off of him, moving swiftly to pin you beneath him. He slammed into you again, pinning your hands above your head. You moaned, letting him attach his lips around your nipple. He bit softly before sucking. He lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders, moving quicker and quicker. 

“Would you do anything for me, baby? Would you?” “Yes! Yes, daddy,” you moaned. Fred could feel your walls tightening around him, which signaled him to wrap his hand around your throat. The feeling of his rings on your skin and the loss of control sent you into your ecstasy, crying his name out loudly. He came next, pulling out to cum on your stomach. You watched, stars in your eyes, as he reached next to the bed to grab his tee shirt and wipe you up. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You held the gun in your hand still, shaking as you watched the person in front of you fall to the floor. “C’mon,” Fred said, wrapping his hand around your wrist. You ran along with him, shaking from your fingers to toes. 

“Is-Is...did I kill her?” 

Fred handed you a small, white pill and you took it without question. “It’ll calm you down. C’mon,” he said, starting up his bike. You crawled onto the back, wrapping your arms around his waist. Fred’s shirt was still soaked in blood. You had been his ruse to get into the house, and then he had urged you to shoot. 

He had shot too, leaving the living room full of the corpses of a rival club. As Fred sped, coasting nearly one hundred miles per hour, you saw flashes of red and blue light up in the rearview. Fred was content to rev his engine, but another cop car pulled out in front, causing his wheels to come to a screeching stop. 

Four sets of officers stood behind their doors, crouching, guns drawn. “Get off,” Fred whispered and you listened, hands up in surrender. A male cop immediately grabbed you, locking the handcuffs around your wrist. You were bent over the hood of the cop car, waiting for Fred to make his move. 

“Weasley, put your hands up and drop your weapon.” 

Fred slowly got off of his bike, hands up. He looked you dead in the eyes, saying words you had never heard him speak out loud before. “Remember, I’ve always loved you, baby. I’m not letting them take me.” 

With that, he moved his hand down to his waistband, going for his gun. Before he could get it, a shower of bullets rang out from all angles, bursting through the leather of his jacket and into his torso and head. You screamed, fighting against your cuffs as two male officers held you back. Fred Weasley had gone out the same way he had always wanted - in a blaze of glory. 

“Freddie!” You screamed echoed in the quiet desert night, staring at the blood pooling into the California sand. “Freddie!” 

Fred’s eyes were still open, blood leaking from his mouth. The light behind them was gone, his pupils only illuminated by swirls of red and blue from the sirens. You continued to scream as you were pushed, head down, into the back of a police car. 

The police officer began to read your rights. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” 

“Fuck you,” you cussed, as one final send off to the man you loved. 

[misora-msby]

scarred love.

rating : mature

word count : 4.3k

themes : angst, slight fluff, implied and mentions of sex

notes : based on vistlip’s CLASSIC OPERA // this is my first work on this blog, i hope you enjoy!

“I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

“No way… That’s not the case, I’m sure!”

“That’s what I want to think but…”

Suna could barely believe as he stood outside the bedroom door, hand barely making contact with the handle. Was that really what you thought? 

“I wonder if it’s normal for couples to fall out of love at this stage.”

“Mm… there’s certainly been couples I’ve known like that. They were in love for years but after they got married they decided it wasn’t the life for them and divorced.”

Suna heard your gasp follow the tinny voice from the phone. He had heard of similar stories before but never thought it would happen to him and you. 

Ever since you had gotten together, he was always subtle in his love. He was never the type to outright say “I love you” in public or to boldly proclaim his love for you on social media. Suna preferred linking pinkies while walking or to post photos of your study dates with simple captions like “another ‘10 minute break’” or “we are going to collapse”. 

Despite this, when you were in the privacy of your apartment, he almost never left your side. It was either his head on your lap, his legs laying over yours on the couch, or you sitting on his lap in some way albeit still being relatively quiet. 

So to think you were getting upset with the little attention he was showing recently had him confused. Wasn’t he always like this?

“But Y/N, I doubt Suna-san’s fallen out of love. Isn’t it just that his new job with EJP Raijin is keeping him busy?” 

“Y-Yeah but… he hasn’t said anything about it. He comes back late and leaves early and it just… It just sucks so much! I don’t know what to do!” you sob and Suna can hear the sound of you blowing your nose and coughing through your tears. 

Taking a step back from the bedroom door, the middle blocker moved to the couch and sat for a moment, head in his hands. He knew love couldn’t be perfect. A perfect relationship without fights or problems was just waiting to crumble from the slightest crack in it. But he wanted to at least prevent you from thinking this way. 

He wanted you to know he did love you. 

Later that night, he crawled into the bed, freshly showered and in his pyjamas - an old thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers. You laid beside him in your own pyjamas - one of his big t-shirts and a pair of shorts. 

“Y/N,” he turned onto his side and called your name, causing you to almost jump while attempting to fall asleep with your swirling thoughts.

“Yes, Rin?” 

“You have a free day tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Well… yes. Why?”

The bed shifted under his movement to hold himself over you. 

“W-Wait a second! Rin! I’m not prepared or anything- mmf!” 

He pressed his lips to yours, his fox-like eyes shut delicately as he kissed you passionately. Before you knew it, his hands moved to your sides and began to lift the edge of the shirt up, but were quickly pushed down. 

“Rintarou,” you lightly pushed on his chest, “I uh… I’m not wearing any nice underwear… A-And I haven’t shaved. Can I go change and do that?” 

Honestly you were very surprised that he suddenly wanted to do this. Suna was always one to do things out of the blue; your relationship was built on impromptu dates and spontaneous gifts he claimed ‘reminded him of you’, but this really had came out of nowhere. 

You hadn’t been intimate in weeks and you wanted to at least look good for it, but Suna just shook his head. 

“You’re fine like this. I love you however you look.” He leaned back down and began to place kisses along your jaw and neck. 

His kisses were softer than usual, you noted. And his hands weren’t rushing to tear your clothes off like he usually did.

“Rin- ah! Rintarou, why are you doing this all of a sudden?”

“We’re both free tomorrow. Can’t I spend my free day with my girlfriend the way I want to?” he asked, looking up at you through his thin lashes. 

“Still! That gives me more time to go get ready.”

“No,” he shook his head and continued to kiss and bite along your neck and collarbones, leaving his marks of love on your skin, “I want to spend every second that I can with you now that I have the time.”

“Wait a second.”

Suna finally pulled his lips away from your skin, now littered with little marks, “What’s wrong?”

“Since when were you so romantic? It just… Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy it’s just a little funny…” 

His eyes widened at the sight of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, cupping your face in his large rough hands gently. 

“I’m more than okay! No… I don’t know why I’m crying…” you sob softly, rubbing at your eyes. 

Suna chuckled lightly. “Is it because you’re filled with overwhelming love for me?”

“Rintarou!” you whined and hit his chest lightly. “You’re absolutely insufferable!”

“You say that but you were the one who asked me out on our graduation.” 

“...you little shit. I really do love you.” 

“Mm, I thought so. I love you too.” He continued to kiss and strip you.

Unlike your usual nights together which were spent fucking roughly, leaving bodies sore and lightly scarred, tonight was slow and loving albeit passionate as ever. Soft kisses and laughs were exchanged in the dark as Suna made love to you, thrusting slowly while mumbling words of love into your body. 

The next morning, you were woken up by the feeling of a kiss on your forehead. Your eyelids fluttered open and you squinted in the morning light to see Suna sitting on his side of the bed, clad only in boxers. There was also the scent of eggs and toast, and when you looked down, you saw it sitting on a plate between you two.

“I’m no Osamu here. But I think my cooking is still edible,” your boyfriend sighed before flopping down onto the bed beside you and closing his eyes. 

“You actually woke up to cook for me?” you asked, sitting up to look at the sunny-side-ups with broken yolks and the toast that was just a little too toasted for your liking. 

“Surprised myself too,” he yawned before squinting his eyes open, “More like… I wanted to surprise you. And wake you up with a kiss.”

“You’re so cheesy today, aren’t you!”

“I know, I think it’s weird too.”

On that day, you knew he still loved you. And you loved him more than ever before.

But that happiness couldn’t last forever. In the city of Tokyo where sadness and troubles rained down, something was bound to happen. Even the most heavily cemented cracks could once again break under a heavy enough pressure. 

Even if it took a couple of months.

“Rintarou! Welcome home!”

“Mm.”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you noticed his short answer. After shutting your laptop where you were answering some work related emails while waiting for your boyfriend, you made your way over to Suna who was hanging his winter coat by the door.

“Rin, are you alright?”

“Just tired.”

You sighed softly, “You shouldn’t overwork yourself. You need breaks sometimes too, you know?” And reached up to begin massaging his shoulders as you usually did. But he only pushed your hands away quickly, saying, “Not tonight,” before walking further into the apartment.

You bit your lower lip to prevent it from trembling any further while your hands stayed still as if frozen mid air. You were hesitating to tell him what you wanted to say earlier.

“Rintarou… Tomorrow you don’t have scheduled practice, right? I…” you took a deep breath as he turned to face you, eyes dark and heavy-looking. 

“Yeah.”

“I was wondering… Well, I don’t have work tomorrow either so I reserved a place at a nice restaurant for dinner! I think we both need a bit of a break, work’s been so busy and you’re also training so intensely and-”

“No.”

“H- Huh?” you laughed nervously, “What do you mean by ‘no’?”

“It means what it means, I don’t want to go.”

“Rintarou, you can’t just- I can’t- I promise it’s a really nice place! A-And I wanted to spend some time with you…” there was a lump welling up in your throat as you tried not to suddenly pour out your recent feelings towards him. 

The recent frustrations of not being able to spend much time with your boyfriend anymore, the annoyance at the way he would always spend his free time doing self training, the anger towards his schedule which rarely ever allowed you to meet, the sadness of the fact that your shared apartment no longer had the sound of laughter when you two played games or watched silly YouTube videos together...

All that frustration felt like it was just being held up behind that lump in your throat, and to think he would simply dismiss it without a second thought.

“You should’ve asked before you started making plans. I’m going to the gym tomorrow again. We have a match against the Red Falcons in two weeks so I need to become at least a bit stronger,” Suna explained monotonously, as if you should have known that already.

“I- I know but… I thought… it’d be a nice surprise…”

The man sighed and turned to walk towards the bathroom, ready to just shower and go to sleep. He simply could not be bothered to argue with you, thinking this problem would solve itself like it always did. But you had had enough of this issue.

Suna hadn’t even realised it was coming until he felt a small bell keychain hit the back of his head. It fell to the hardwood floor with a loud clang which lasted for far too long, causing him to inhale sharply and turn around, anger and annoyance replacing the bored expression on his face for once. 

“What the hell is-” he was about to raise his voice until he saw the way your features trembled and your eyes had already become red and puffy. His own features softened and his body unstiffened. “Y/N…”

“You know, the least you could do is try to be nice to me!” you yelled, furiously wiping away the tears forming. “You could at least say “Mm, I’m really not free but we can do it some other time.” or some shit like that! But no! I- I’m busy too, you know! I’m trying to get promoted so I don’t have to rely on yer dumb ass all the time, but I still want to make time for you because I love you so much! But I don’t think ya get that!” 

Something in the back of your mind was telling you not to say these things, that maybe you could just talk this out calmly. Maybe you didn’t have to explode, but something else told you this was the only way to get a point across.

“I’m your girlfriend, but I feel more like a roommate or burden at this point! Ya know, even ‘Tsumu’s able to make time for his girlfriend! And- And Bokuto’s always doing his promotions and ads but still makes time for his boyfriend! Ojiro-senpai too! Miyu-chan tells me he’s the one planning the dates! But ya can’t even be bothered to pretend you’re happy I tried ta plan somethin’ for us!” 

Suna knew you really were angry when your dialect started coming out but he just didn’t know what to say. He could only stand there in silence with his head hanging like a child being scolded.

“Rintarou… I love you so much you know… I just wonder these days- no, I just wonder if you ever loved me back the same way.”

Oh, he knew. Ever since that night when he heard you crying on the phone, he knew he wasn’t doing enough. 

“I… I’m sorry.” Suna looked up when he suddenly heard those words from you amidst the sobs and chokes. 

“I already left your pyjamas on the bathroom counter… Please don’t… Just please don’t talk to me tonight.” you hurried to the tiny kitchen to wash your face as he silently made his way to the bathroom, thoughts swirling around in his head. 

Suna stared at your figure silently for a second before bending down to pick up the bell - a cheap gift he had given you for your third month together right after you two first started university. It was old, the string slightly frayed and loose, and the golden paint had chipped in places to reveal the stainless steel underneath it. There was even a dent on the bottom from when you accidentally dropped one of your heavier textbooks onto it. It was old, and Suna had told you countless times it was fine to throw away, but you always kept it. 

The man took it and carefully placed it back on the key rack before heading into the bathroom. He took his time in there, gathering his thoughts as he knew he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you tonight.

It was understandable really, he hadn’t been a great boyfriend. Suna knew a relationship took work from both sides and he shouldn’t have been as blunt as he was earlier that night. 

One couldn’t count the number of times he had muttered profanities aimed towards himself while sitting in the bathtub thinking about his mistakes. He didn’t know if you would even want to see him tomorrow morning. Maybe it was for the best he just went to the gym…

The next morning, Suna woke up early. Even in winter, the sun rose far too early in Japan for his taste. Sitting up and grumbling, he rubbed his eyes and stumbled to the bathroom to begin his morning routine.

Looking at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, he could only sigh at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes. 

Though you made him sleep on the stiff couch last night, you gave him the shared duvet and his pillow while you took the slightly thinner blanket from the closet. 

Despite the added comfort, Suna could barely fall asleep. He kept twisting and turning, thinking about you. Your pained face, your strained voice, your kindness even when angry at him. 

“I fucked up so bad,” he muttered once he washed his face and stared at his pathetically tired self in the mirror, water dripping from the ends of his hair. Would you want to break up with him after that? He’d understand if you wanted to, though he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for losing you because of some stupid mistake he could have prevented. 

Suna sighed for what felt like the thousandth time in the past 12 hours and dabbed his face dry with a towel. He knew that now would be the hardest bit - entering your bedroom to get his change of clothes.

Opening the door as slowly as possible in order to prevent the loud whiny creaking that he wished he had fixed months ago, Suna walked slowly towards the open closet. As quickly as possible, he grabbed a set of clothes and turned to face the door. Though it wasn’t without looking at your sleeping form on the large bed. 

Your face was puffy, dehydrated from sobbing last night, only emphasised by the wads of used tissues on the nightstand and floor. He noticed your breathing was a bit heavier than usual and your body was curled up as you hugged the thin blanket as close to yourself as you could.

The sight pained him intensely. 

With silent footsteps, Suna set his clothes on his side (the empty side) of the bed and tiptoed out to grab the duvet before returning and carefully laying it over your body. He tucked it right up to your chin as you always liked it and sat on the floor, eyes scanning every little feature on your face. From the smallest moles he loved to kiss to each individual eyelash.

“You’re not hearing this, I guess,” he muttered, looking down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at you, “I thought about it for a really long time. I really should’ve been better to you.”

The silence in the room was deafening. 

Suna gulped and bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about his next words, wondering if you could hear him in your sleep. 

“I always left you alone but you would always be nice to me. When you could, you’d make me bentos and clean the house while I did the laundry. Hm… putting stuff into a machine isn’t anywhere equal to cooking and cleaning surfaces, but I guess that’s another point to make.” 

Suna smiled to himself just a bit at the memory of you running into the bedroom to make him try your new pastries or dinner creations. He always thought you were so adorable in your old and stained apron that sometimes he would just stand in the kitchen to chat with you or watch you cook.

Then he was reminded of the dinner you had planned for the two of you and he suddenly frowned remembering how horrible he acted towards you the night before.

“You never expected me to be perfect since day one. I think I’m the furthest thing from a handsome prince on a white horse. But you’ve always been wonderful to me. And I was thinking…” You were asleep, right? Was it worth it to say such cheesy things?

“I kept wondering if you would leave and I thought I don’t want to lose you. I’m nowhere close to a prince but I thought I want to always be the one who wakes you up with a kiss. Or, I want you to wake me up with a kiss. Either is fine really. But… yeah. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. ” He was certain you weren’t hearing these things yet there was a dark blush on his cheeks.

Until he saw you shift in the bed. 

Suna swears his heart stopped momentarily as he leaned closer, checking to see if you had woken up. 

Your eyelids slowly opened and you squinted tiredly at Suna, just barely able to see him with how blurry your vision had become. “Rin…?”

The man hurried to his feet, hoping his morning wouldn’t feel any heavier than it already did. 

“I’m gonna give you some space. I’ll be back after my jog.” 

Suna turned to exit the bedroom but was stopped by the sound of stumbling, followed by your warmth around his waist and resting on his back.

“Please… don’t go.”

He stared silently at the floor in front of him. 

“I don’t think you want to-”

“Stay here! …please?” 

Your soft voice broke but mended his heart at the same time. The scratchiness and fear in your voice contrasted with the words that he wanted to hear so badly.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, I heard everything.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m still a little mad. But right now I’m just really happy you would say those things when you normally wouldn’t tell me how you feel. So… please, don’t go. Stay with me.”

The few moments of silence seemed to pass in eons as Suna took in a shaky breath before turning to hug you tightly, burying his face into your neck so you couldn’t see his tears of relief.

“Of course I will. I won’t go anywhere, babe.”

Four years have passed since that night. Suna yawns and scrunches up his face slightly at the way the sunlight enters your shared bedroom. Squinting his eyes, he looks around the room and wonders if maybe he should’ve put on a shirt like you did last night to deal with the first bites of winter. Then again, you did take his shirt.

He then looks to you, sleeping quietly by his side. You looked a little like a mess; hair messy, dwarfed in his big shirt, cheek smushed against the pillow, but he thought you looked adorable. 

It’s cold, but he feels warm by your side. 

And when he looks down at your left hand resting under his even in your sleep, the sight of the silver ring with its diamonds adorning your finger makes his heart even warmer.

[arcadejohn127-9]

How would the demon brothers [+ undatebles if you can no biggie tho if not] be with an MC who is plus sized and is super insecure about it? Like they try to get skinnier but can't and they get upset about it or get teased by other demons for being bigger. Side note: your writings are INCREDIBLE. Just like you 🤗💜🎆⭐

Thank you for the request and the compliment! You're too kind!

Oof weight lose and being bullied for my size is something I know abit too well, I always feel sad when I see plus sized people Insecure about their weight

I'm all for people wanting to lose weight to be healthy or just wanting change but when it stems from self hated and an unhealthy mindset - I just can't stand it

Demon brother's with a plus sized MC who's insecure

Warning: angst with fluff

Lucifer:

He isn't a man who's to shy away from being rude and blunt to people

He wouldn't date someone for pity or lie

When he learned you were trying to loose weight

He and the other brothers all treated it how Asmo's diets go, he tries and fails and everyone makes no real effort to not tempt him with food

When he found you crying in your bedroom however

"What's the matter? You're crying, what has upset you?"

"You." Was all you said, trying to calm yourself

He, of course, wanted to know what he did

He kept pestering you until you finally snapped at him

"You're treating my wants like it's a joke! I want to lose weight and none of you are being supportive of it! Why can't you just let me do something for myself?!"

He was taken back

He sat beside you, taking your hand in his

"Why do you want to lose weight? This plan has come rather unexpectedly."

"Because I'm too big! Everyone thinks so! No matter what I do all nothing works! Don't you think I'm ugly?"

"Since when did being big equate to being ugly? Are your height makes you ugly?"

"my height...? What does that-"

"Weight isn't something we can always change like our height, some people just can't change their physical appearance, it can only happen naturally and even then it may be a small amount gained or lost."

"I think I get what you mean."

"I hate admiting this but- I'm not good at this kind of thing but I think you look wonderful, if you really wish to go on a diet I'll support you but it needs to come from a healthy and non destructive mindset."

He poked. your forehead before kissing your hand

Mammon:

"Mammon? Don't you get embarassed when you're out with me."

"You are pretty embarassing sometimes."

He wasn't pay too much attention, not catching up on your tone

"Oh.....I see....maybe I shouldn't come out with you tonight."

You already didn't want to go out, the outfit Mammon got you - whilst it looked expensive - was tight on you

"HUH?! now what's this all about? You trying to quit on the great mammon?!"

"Well- I'm much bigger than the demons you hang around with, aren't you ashamed? They're way more attractive than-"

He rushed to your side, gripping your arms

"Don't even finish that sentence, ya hear?! Who told you - you didn't look fucking fantastic?! No one talks to my baby like that!"

"But it's true-"

"I swear on Goldie that isn't true! You are the most stunning jewel I've seen, I'm so lucky to be with someone that looks like you! You're personality is already top notch - your body is like a shiny bonus I don't think I deserve!"

He pulled you into a hug, holding you like you were the most valuable thing to him

"You're gorgeous, just tell me who's been bullying you and I'll make sure they know their place, I never want you to feel like that."

Levithan:

Levi was showing off this cast of anime style chatacters from the game he was playing

All of them were so thin and muscular

Everyone had the perfect curve and ideal bodies

"We should cosplay these characters! Don't worry, you don't need to know everything about them - I think you'd really pull off this one, you two already have the same personality."

You looked down at yourself and then back at the Character

You frowned, clutching your stomach

"Really....? But they're so- well look at me!"

He looked at you, raising a brow as he tried to find what you were getting at

"They're a warrior who saved the universe with a knife, it's not supposed to be realistic-"

"I'm talking about my shape, levithan! I'm fat! I'm disgusting! They're built like a god!"

"YOU'RE built like a god! There's plenty of Gods from your worlds stories that are shaped like you! What's the issue?"

"you didn't even deny I was disgusting, those demons were right-"

"What demons?! Are you seriously letting some normies tell you you're gross? What do they know? I'm the luckiest demon alive to be with you and those demons can choke on salt water - you point them out and I'll get my army on them!"

"you really think that? You wouldn't like more if I looked more like your smile chatacters?"

"Media is based of toxic media where they focus on only one type of beauty standard, it's a problem within the game world that they don't add plus sized chatacters."

"i- yeah I guess so....I didn't expect you to really care about that."

"of course I care!"

You both sat in silence, you were processing his words and leaned against his shoulder

"Do you still want to cosplay together?"

You paused before nodding

You both went through the game he's playing, whenever the overly vain chatacter came out levithan would argue with them

Claiming you to be the most gorgeous being in the world not them

Satan:

"I heard some rumours today, have demons been bothering you about your weight?"

You froze as Satan closed his book, shifting in the seat

You stepped back, avoiding eye contact, regretting coming to your room instead of helping mammon with some silly plan

"No...there's been no issue."

"Oh? Then why is there laxatives and diet guides in your school bag? You know I don't like it when you lie to me especially if it means you could be putting your body at risk."

You noticed your bag beside his feet

You immediately grew frustrated as you knew you were being called out

"Why did you go through my bag?! That's my own bussiness-"

"you said I could get my textbooks back, I found them in your bag - I'm sorry I went through your stuff but this isn't fine! You're going to force your body to push itself unnaturally."

"I just- i just want to get thinner, no matter how many times I try it doesn't work! I'm tired of seeing myself in the mirror and people telling me that you don't actually love me-"

"Some people just don't have it easy when it comes to weight lose, going on a diet isn't the best - I can go on cooking duty more often and make sure you have healthier meals."

He was at your side now, stroking your face

"Do you love me....? Truely?"

"of course I do, I've never loved anyone as much as I love you - you make me feel things I never thought i would, your size is the last of my concerns, I'm just scared you're going to hurt yourself."

You nodded, tearing up as you let him hold you closer

You tried to apologize but he silenced you, telling you that your emotions are valid

Asmodeus:

"Darling~! Let's take a bath together, I just got a new bath bomb and some soaps!"

He shook the mini basket filled with bath product's

"really...? Are you sure you want to do that, I'm not sure, I feel really bloated today-"

You were desperate to avoid getting naked Infront of him

Every once and a while he would ask to take a bath together, he respects your discomfort but wants to keep the offer open

"Oh, that's no issue~ we can have some tea Barbatos gave me, it's great for bloating!"

"why do you wanna see me naked so much? I'm not anything to see - wouldn't you be uncomfortable?"

"Uncomfortable? Why would I feel that?"

"In not the smallest person around-"

"Means you got more to love! I love your body!"

"But you're so gorgeous and slender, why would you ever love my body?"

He couldn't understand your feelings; confused on how you could see yourself in a negative light

"because I love you more than myself, I'm still the most special demon around but you're just something else, something I could never stop adoring!"

Beezlebub:

"Do you want to go eat with me? hell's kitchen is having a party."

Beel peered into your room, showing the hell's kitchen site

"I'm not sure about that, I've been trying to cut down on my eating."

"what? Why? Are you sick?"

He immediately got concerned, shuffling over to you

He placed the back of his hand on your forehead

"No- I'm not sick, I just think I should loose some weight."

"oh....then you can still go eat with me, I'll just eat more of your portions."

"you don't have any issue with me losing weight?"

Your insecurities started to chew at you

You weren't really sure what you wanted; you wanted him to be cruel and straight forward about hating your body

It would make your feelings feel more grounded

But you couldn't bare it if he didn't like your body

"It's your choice - should I be concerned?"

"no way! It would be for the best anyway, right? Atleast then I'll look better-"

"What does your weight have you to do with your looks? I think you look fine."

"you don't think I'm too big? Wouldn't you prefer someone more petite? I know you like small things-"

"I like you, I don't see any issue with your body."

It did feel a little ridiculous to think the avatar of gluttony would be bothered by your size but you still couldn't help but feel worried

He suddenly picked you up, kissing your cheek

"I can hold you in my arms just fine, your size will never stop me from liking you, I think you're beautiful."

Belphegor:

He was laying on your thigh's, watching a video comp of people falling over and getting hurt

"Should I loose weight?"

His phone was suddenly dropped on his stomach, staring up at with you surprise

"Why do you ask? Besides, it's not my decision to make - it's your body."

"yeah but wouldn't you prefer it if I was, ya know, thinner?"

He looked at you as if you just said something stupid

Adjusting his position snuggled against your thigh's

"Why would I prefer that? You wouldn't be as comfy."

"is that all you care about? If I'm comfy? Would you be upset if I did lose weight?"

"No, because I love cuddling you so I don't care about your size but I like you the way you are."

"it can't be that simple, there's no way you just like me when I look like this."

"I'm not sure why you're thinking of it like it's complicated maths, I like you- no I love you and very happy with the way you are."

You wanted to argue, trying to find a way to figure out how he's wrong

But you couldn't

"You're my favourite person in this house - don't tell Beel - I wouldn't trade you for the world."

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Little Bit Hot, Little Bit (Bitter) Sweet

For @peachworthy ,who asked about Link's ennui when it came to his bachelor party and its lack of strippers. (Warning for infidelity)

"So, what was that about?"

Link and Rhett are back in their office, gathering up their things. The Mythical Crew has already checked out for the day, leaving the two lifelong friends alone and Rhett is looking at Link inquisitively after posing this question.

Link, not meeting his eyes, is idly adjusting the zipper on his laptop bag, "Don't know what you mean."

Rhett rolls his eyes, "Of course you do. You got all weird when we analyzed that one organizational pic. The one for the bachelor trip. Why? Was it cause I got another point?"

Link hasn't redirected his attention from the bag, so Rhett presses on, "I can't help that I smoke you at these things, man."

"It wasn't that," Link cuts in neatly, words practically overlapping over Rhett's, "It's..."

He shrugs helplessly, "Silly."

"It ain't," Rhett argues, "Not if it bothers you this much, so," he gestures to him to continue even as he says, "Go on..."

Link sighs and finally looks away from the bag, putting it to one side. He sits on their couch and flaps his hands," Look, I was just thinking back on my bachelor party and how it wasn't that big a celebration and it just-? I don't know...brought me down? It's just that there are a finite amount of things you can experience in your life and I guess I just've been feeling like I missed out on a lot."

"... because you didn't have strippers?"

Link levels Rhett with a look at that, but Rhett counters with his own, "Look, bo - we both got plenty of time left. Is that it? This some kinda midlife crisis thing? Cause I know Lily's going to college has left you feeling a lil'-?"

"I'm not having a midlife crisis," Link returns in a slightly waspish tone, arms crossing, "I'm simply recognizing things I missed out on "

"Link, if...if you want to go to a strip club-?"

"Christ," Link hisses with a surprising amount of annoyance - so much so that Rhett bristles at it, surprised and hurt until Link drops, "I don't want that. I just-? I want-?"

His voice drops in volume, soft and sad, "I just want to feel special."

Rhett blinks in shock. He opens his mouth, closes it. He's at a complete loss on how to answer, which a relatively new experience for him. Luckily, Link is more than up for filling in the silence, "Ain't like I need a stripper for that... albeit someone taking off their clothes for my enjoyment is a nice benefit, but..."

Rhett just stands there. Looming above Link, thinking and silent and Link shrugs again, rubs his palms over his knees, "Been married for forty three years... getting to damn near fifty and I don't regret a second of it, but it's-? It's nice, y'know?"

He sighs and tips his head back so it rests against the couch, eyes closed, "It's nice now and again to think of yourself as... attractive. Special."

The silence stretches out and Link shakes his head, "Man, just-? Just ignore me. I'm talking crazy, I'm talking-!"

Link's words are cut off by the sound of music coming from their blue tooth speakers. It takes him a minute to recognize it and when he does, his head shoots upright lightning fast, eyes wide, because it's ZZ Top.

It's not the kind of tune they normally listen to, but as Billy Gibbons starts singing for someone to give him all their loving, Rhett starts shaking his hips.

It's overly theatrical and he's toying with his shirt, lifting up the hem this way and that and Link bursts into giggles. Is his friend serious?

Apparently he is, as he starts making 'come hither' motions to Link and Link, still laughing, shakes both his head and hands, because no way is he going to get up and dance with this lovable idiot.

Rhett, undeterred, shifts his attention to his shirt again – whipping it off in one smooth motion before raising it one handed above his head, spinning it in crazy circles.

Link, seeing now exactly what his pal’s intentions are, begins to hoot and holler, clapping as if watching a real strip show. Rhett makes sure to toss the shirt at him and Link catches it easily.

He fawns over it dramatically, fanning himself and going as full ham as he can. Rhett’s nose scrunches up and he bends over laughing, clutching at his knees a moment before tossing his long hair back, a near perfect replica of a professional stripper tossing back her locks around during a routine.

He spins on his heels and kicks off his shoes clumsily before turning back, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off with as much skill as he did the shirt.

Once again, he tosses the discarded article of clothing at Link, who this time tosses it aside as if it’s an annoyance. There’s Rhett, in his boxer briefs and socks, shaking his booty at Link and it’s – without a doubt – one of the greatest things Link has ever seen.

Absolutely hilarious and silly and just the thing to snap him out of his blues.

As Link starts pretending to ‘make it rain’, Rhett dancing within the fake flurry of bills, he wonders idly if Rhett is going to climb upon his lap.

If he’ll embark on some faux lap dance or try to find something that he can work as a pole, but instead Rhett backs up and Link can’t help but snort, pumping one fist as he brusquely cheers, “Back dat thing up!”

Rhett stops again, chuckling, and Link breaks down as well, the two losing themselves to laughter. Link suspects at any moment Rhett will stand upright and resume a more conservative mien, but instead Rhett literally waggles his ass near Link and Link can’t help but pretend to spank him.

To be fair, he kind of really did spank him in that video they did – what’s so different about this?

Well, it turns out it is different, because when Rhett unceremoniously seats himself upon Link’s lap, his back to Link’s front, things are...not exactly the same.

Okay, so, yes – they did this in that same video – however, in that video, it had all been for show and Rhett hadn’t been…so…fully seated. Much less…grinding.

He’s grinding joyously on Link’s lap, completely unaware that this has just gone a wee bit too far, because yeah, the heat of him? The feel?

…oh boy.

Link’s…’not so’ little Link notices. And then some. Rhett’s rocking against him in perfect sync with the thrumming bass of the song and it’s been awhile since Link has felt this kind of special. Both he and Christy have been busy with this or that and this is…ahhh…

Rhett really works himself downward, creating a fantastic friction between his ass cheeks and Link’s burgeoning erection and Link closes his eyes tight, ready to speak up when Rhett knocks back against him some, tone throaty, “This working for you?”

“Rhett…” Link chokes out and Rhett, having yet to clearly recognize any troublesome signs, just gives him the sauciest grin, “Thinking it’s working for me. Working up a good ol’ sweat – might have ta take this act on the road, see if Jes-!”

“No,” Link grunts, because…he can’t think about that right now. He can’t think about anything. Instead, he grabs a firm hold of Rhett and does his best to halt his movement.

Rhett makes a questioning sound and then? Then he flushes. His cheeks grow fully crimson, green eyes wide as he pushes back just that little bit and he lets out a quiet, ‘Oh.’

Link nods. Rhett stops his movements completely. Link sits there in horrified humiliation, waiting for the hammer to drop, but then? Then Rhett does something completely crazy.

Crazy, immoral – absolutely nuts.

He…starts moving again.

This time with…intent.

He circles his hips and rocks backwards and Link lets out a choked sob, confused and betrayed and yet…unable to deny himself. His grip moves to Rhett’s hips and they’re surprisingly full. They fill up his sweating palms perfectly and Link can’t help himself.

He curses and prays to God equally as he locks down on Rhett and thrusts up. His rapidly swelling dick reaches its maximum hardness and – even through all the layers – he swears he can feel that sweet spot between Rhett’s cheeks – feel that hidden spot, that entrance, that-!

Link’s head knocks back on a full throttle moan and Rhett is not helping as he swallow thickly, muttering his own curse and…moving again.

Rhett is moving again.

And then so is Link.

They start working against one another – Rhett bearing down, Link thrusting up and the air fills with the sounds of their thick, heavy panting – whimpers and moans and Link knows his grip on Rhett has to be bruising and he wants to ease up, wants to relax it, but he can’t, he can’t.

He can do nothing but chase after this vicious, hungry pleasure and it’s like a beast inside of him has been awoken. It snarls and bears its fangs and bears down on its prey with full force.

What had started off as stupid fun has turned into a charged, erotic moment beyond comprehension and Rhett gasps Link’s name, gasps nonsensical things – filthy things.

And when Link hears something along the lines of ‘can practically feel you in me’ he loses himself entirely. With a sharp cry, his body releases – his cock throbbing with endless ecstasy as wet, hot heat fills the front of his drawers As his cock exerts itself, spilling his seed, balls pulsing and it’s so good, so good, so good.

It takes him awhile to recognize he’s chanting this helplessly into Rhett’s back as he thrusts up into him. As he cums and cums and he’s never had a climax like this.

One that leaves him blind, deaf, and dumb to everything. But then -just as wonderfully as the spell washed over him – it washes away.

And he’s cold.

And he’s ashamed.

And he’s…fuck.

The fact his next thought is that he wants more just makes him feel even worse and then Rhett slowly peels his fingers away from him.

The force Link used to hold Rhett in place is horrifying to him and he wouldn’t be surprised if Rhett never forgives him for it, if it wasn’t for the fact that – when Rhett rises – he’s clearly aroused.

His own underwear is tented by his obviously full cock and he turns to Link and licks his lips, eyes bright and hot as he husks, “Be back.”

Rhett disappears into their shared bathroom and Link has no doubt about what he’s doing in there. Not that Link is going to wait around to find out. He immediately springs from the chair. He springs from the chair and flees – flees because that wasn’t supposed to happen.

Nothing like that was ever, ever supposed to happen and his whole body is still humming with the afterglow of pleasant release and yet his eyes are burning with unshed tears because – what has he done?

What did he do? What did they do?

He just wanted to feel special and now?

Now, he feels nothing.

[whitehotharlots]

The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc. 

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism. 

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable. 

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself. 

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing. 

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want  students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse. 

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back. 

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure. 

[tuanhood]

hypnotic | part one

paring: vampire!im jaebeom x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut (part two), vampire au

warnings: language, cringey vampire cliches i’m sure

word count: 9,800+

summary: jaebeom has been waiting 200 years to find his mate - the one who can break his trance and isn’t affected by his hypnotic abilities. You don’t seem to be that person, but he just can’t seem to get you out of his mind… why? 

a/n: hello guys! so i originally had this planned to post tomorrow (the 30th) but it was so long i decided to split it up and post one part today and the other part on the 31st! This first part is mostly Jaebeom and not a lot of Y/N but SO BE IT. This is also my first time writing in the genre of vampire/fantasy loL so please forgive me because it’ll probably be cringe and not make sense. if that’s the case lol drop me a message!! also vampire jaebeom was requested FOREVER ago. so here it is practically 3 decades later. and i attempted to make a banner. if someone can make me a better one it’s v much WELCOME.

part two

Knock Knock Knock 

He wished he could just pretend like he was asleep. He wished he could use that as an excuse to not answer the door, but based on the very strong feeling he was getting from who was behind it – that wouldn’t work. 

“I know you’re in there! Just answer the damn door Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes, leave it to Bambam to be at his front door before the day even had a chance to truly begin. Before letting him in, he went through all the possible things or excuses he could use to get out of whatever his younger friend had in mind.

“Is your vintage YSL here or is it still at the dry cleaners?” Bambam asked, pushing past Jaebeom as soon as he has the door partway open.

Gruffly, Jaebeom turned back into his apartment to Bambam already halfway to his bedroom – no doubt to look through his closet, “What are you doing here Bam?” 

“What does it look like? I’m here for the vintage YSL asshole!” 

He’s learned by now that it’s better to let him do his thing – whatever that may mean. So instead of following Bambam, he plopped down onto the same couch he’s had for nearly 15 years. “You know when I first bought that shirt it wasn’t considered vintage!”

Jaebeom waited for a response, but instead, he was met with silence. After a few moments – many of them thinking about how maybe it was time to replace the couch – he felt his “vintage” YSL button-down hit him in the face. 

He groaned; the impact was surely going to create wrinkles in the material he tried to keep in pristine condition. It was ironic since he was often heard making fun of how much Bambam cared about clothes, but Jaebeom liked to keep his things nice. “Bam I just got it back from getting cleaned a couple of days ago.”

“Put it on.” 

The tone of his friend’s voice seemed rather impatient. If he had closed his eyes, Jaebeom would have thought he was talking to Jinyoung or even himself. 

“Why do I need to put it on? It’s 8 in the morning; where are we going?”

“Um excuse me? Did you forget what day it was? Now come on, we’re meeting Jinyoung at that new café down the street in fifteen.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to picture the café on the mental map he keeps in his mind, “the one that used to be a video store in the 90s?”

Bambam made his way into the living room, picking up a few glasses that rested on the coffee table Jaebeom’s feet were on top of, and marched over to the small kitchen. Jaebeom has lived in this apartment more years than he’d like to admit, especially because enough time had passed that the neighbors he had were clearly aging and he just stayed 26. The thought of moving somewhere new often enters his mind, but with this place, he just can’t bring it in himself to go quite yet. It’s almost as though something is tying him to this city, this place – like he’s waiting for something.

“Yes, and a speakeasy in the 20s both of which are not important right now because we live in the 21st century Jaebeom. Now come on, Jinyoung’s waiting – that asshole is always early.” 

He heard Bambam mumble something along the lines of known him 100 years, would it kill him to just be on time for once, as he furiously dropped the glasses on the kitchen counter.

“Do I have to go?” 

Bambam paused his motions of putting Jaebeom’s dirty dishes into the sink to stare the older vampire down, “Jaebeom you only turn 200 once.” 

He scoffed in response, “Jesus don’t remind me.”

“We have to make a whole day of it! So please just put the shirt on, because I want you looking presentable,” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, suddenly wiggling his eyebrows, “you never know what could happen.” The final word is drawn out, almost sing-song like and it drives Jaebeom up the wall because he knows exactly what Bambam is referencing.

For Jaebeom and those like Jaebeom, they didn’t consider the day they were born as their birthday, but instead as the day they turned. There was no point in celebrating their birth anymore as they were no longer alive. However, at this point after 200 birthdays, – alive and dead combined - Jaebeom was beginning to believe that there was no point to those either. He always knew being immortal was a curse but day by day that idea was only solidifying itself in his mind.  

Jaebeom let out a gruff breath which only made Bambam look up from the fork he was scrubbing, “Bam I don’t know what you think is going to happen today… but it certainly isn’t that.” 

The “that” he was referencing was one of the main factors that as of late had made him feel like living forever was indeed a waste. It was the thing that was supposed to make him feel “complete.” According to old texts and traditional vampire folklore, he was now walking around half full, but once he met his mate, he would become whole. At first, he didn’t believe the tale. He had gotten by so far without a mate that the idea of him not being complete made him laugh. But watching both Bambam and Jinyoung find their mates – Bambam 70 years ago and Jinyoung 16 years ago – made him finally acknowledge and reflect on the piece of himself he was missing. 

And fuck he was lonely. 

Bambam chuckled at him as if being in on his own personal joke. His friend was strange like that sometimes, “just put the shirt on Jaebeom.” 

By the time he’s had the shirt on and Bambam has somehow convinced him to let him wear his Rolex he got as a gift from his friend Jackson in 1920, Jaebeom feels mentally prepared to leave the house and embark on this dreadful day. The reminder that he has now been around for 200 years and still is not whole.

“Finally,” Jinyoung sighed when Jaebeom and Bambam finally reached the café down the street, “I’ve been waiting 20 minutes.” 

A disgruntled Bambam checks his watch, “well if you don’t want to wait every single time, don’t be so fucking early,” he promptly turned to Jaebeom to share his grief regarding their friend, “you think he would learn after all this time.” 

“Let’s just go order,” Jaebeom shrugged, not caring to be in another disagreement between his longer than life friends.

“Be honest you’re early on purpose just so it gives you something to complain about and a reason to make us feel bad!” 

Jinyoung ignored Bambam’s theory, replying to the oldest, “no need. I already ordered for the three of us. It’s a special day, the birthday boy doesn’t need to pay,” he glanced at Bambam, “you on the other hand…” 

The two new arrivals, flop down into the sofa chairs on either side of Jinyoung, along of them situated to make a half-circle in front of a low coffee table. The three of them had somehow stuck into this… pattern. Years of friendship that contained years of Bambam/Jinyoung squabbles that Jaebeom would often have to mediate. Patterns were nice, but sometimes they would get old – especially after so long. 

As the two of them argue over whether or not Bambam should pay Jinyoung back for a simple iced Americano because Bam swears he got the drinks the last two times, Jaebeom looks over to the counter where the baristas work on – no doubt – the plethora of orders they have. The factor of the café being new has certainly been the cause of the popularity and amount of people in the shop. He can’t help but feel bad for the individuals working on the drinks – three years ago he had been one of them for roughly 18 months and knew that it wasn’t as easy as it appeared to be. 

In retrospect, Jaebeom didn’t have to work. He had so much time to learn and understand what it meant to be financially responsible. Not only that, but he’s literally had hundreds of years to save. Plus, his early investments in companies ended up landing him some pretty substantial and valuable shares. Jaebeom was sitting on quite the pretty penny. 

“Wow your portfolio is remarkable… I’ve never seen one like it,” his latest financial advisor had said to him in complete awe, “I mean an early investor in Amazon? Apple? Mastercard?” 

Jaebeom had laughed nervously, “What can I say? My grandpa had good intuition, I guess.” 

Money aside, he had wanted something to do with his time – hence his barista job. It was fun, but like most things, Jaebeom just grew tired of it and as he watched the girl working the espresso machine let out an exhausted breath, he realized that he wasn’t missing it. 

Jaebeom has become good at studying people. It was something he still wasn’t sure of whether it was a vampire thing or just something he had picked up over time. Watching the girl at the machine, her hair is in a low bun, a few strands falling in front of her face. It’s clear with the way the hair tie is situated, that the hairstyle was once a bit neater, tighter, and sat at the middle or even top of her head. However, the now fallen placement and slight disarray signal how busy she’s been working and how fried she must be feeling. 

He looks to the string bracelet on her wrist, visible from far away enough for Jaebeom to conclude that she must have someone in her life deemed important to wear one of those “friendship” bracelets. He never saw the point, but humans were strange creatures, despite him once being one. 

Jaebeom’s breath hitches when he catches sight of the delicately drawn tattoo on her wrist near the bracelet. It’s of lavender and it immediately reminds him of his mother who had loved exploring the lavender field that had been near his home when he was a child. Despite all the time that has passed since he lost his mother, the pain that aches inside of Jaebeom when he thinks of her isn’t any less. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the call at the coffee bar, “Order for Jinyoung.” 

The call comes from the overworked girl he had been studying and Jaebeom wants more than anything to stand up and retrieve their orders. He finds a weird want to hear what her laugh sounds like. Maybe he could say something or strike up a conversation that would-

“What are you doing?” It takes Jaebeom a moment to notice that he has partially stood up from his chair as if he’s about to go somewhere. Cluelessly, he replied, “going to get the drinks.”

The youngest shook his head, “No way! Birthday boys don’t get their drinks, they don’t lift a finger.” 

He knew Bambam was one to take birthdays seriously, but this was beginning to feel like it was going the extra mile too many. 

“I’ll get it.” 

Jaebeom watched Bambam get up to retrieve the drinks. He expects him to just grab the drinks and return to the table, but instead, Bambam says something to the girl. Arching his neck to the side, he tries to make a clear path to eavesdrop on what’s being said, hearing being one of the benefits of turning. Unfortunately, the café is too loud for him to focus on the conversation and he’s defeated by the fact that he’ll have to stay in the dark.

The girl laughs loudly at something Bambam said and Jaebeom can’t help but feel mixed about it. On one hand, he got his wish – hearing her laugh – but on the other hand, he wasn’t the cause of it. For some reason it makes him bring his clench and unclench his fists which rest on the arms of the sofa chair. Jinyoung takes notice.

Jaebeom quickly looks down at his lap when he senses that Bambam is returning to where they’re sat, not wanting to give away that he had been staring. First, he places Jinyoung’s and his drink on the table, soon turning back around to go back and fetch the last drink – Jaebeom’s. 

When he comes back, Jaebeom looks up to see a large grin spread across the youngest’s face. He has that look again – the one as if he knows a joke Jaebeom doesn’t. 

The latter nodded his head in thanks for getting the drinks as he inspects his green tea on the table. Just as he’s about to pick up the mug, he’s stopped in his tracks by an announcement coming from the coffee bar. 

“Hello everyone! Sorry for the interruption, but I’ve been told that we have a birthday here today,” you said. Giving announcements wasn’t your strong suit, but you figured now that you were an actual owner of something, you were going to get over your shyness. But you didn’t think it was going to be that often that a tall, skinny and pale boy with a Rolex on his wrist would be asking you to get your coffee shop to sing happy birthday for his friend. Even when you were a barista working for someone else no one had made such a request. This was a café after all, not an Applebee’s.

Jaebeom wished more than anything that he could sink into his seat and just disappear. If only that cliché that vampires turned into bats were true, then he could just fly away at a moment’s notice. Leave it to Bambam to torture him like this. It wasn’t intentional of course, but it certainly felt like it to Jaebeom. 

It was especially tragic to him because the girl he had been studying was the one leading the entire café in singing “Happy Birthday.” He did his best to avoid looking at her, feeling like his entire body was heating up in embarrassment even though he couldn't heat up. 

You on the other hand felt a little insulted by the birthday boy’s lack of eye contact. You hadn’t even managed to get a good look at him before you started singing and now it was not possible with the way that he was looking down at the ground, his long hair falling in front of his face, concealing itself to you. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that he felt awkward about a bunch of strangers he had never met singing him happy birthday, you had felt the same whenever your friends tried to ambush you on your birthday… but you at least looked up and acknowledged the presence of the people singing. A tight smile from this guy would even be happily accepted. 

When the song is over and the claps that follow finally subside, he looks up to see the café back at its previous state of normalcy, not a single person looking at him anymore. Jaebeom lets out a sigh of relief. 

“You could at least act like you liked it,” Bambam huffed in annoyance. He wished Jaebeom could appreciate the idea of birthdays like he did. 

“I really didn’t need to be the center of attention today Bam.” 

“But it’s your bir-” Bambam begins to explain, but Jaebeom abruptly cuts him off, not wanting to hear his reasoning for today’s antics, yet again. The day hadn’t even started.

“My birthday, I know. Thanks for reminding me.” 

Jinyoung clears his throat and plays with the spoon that came with his Flat White. Just as Jaebeom is the mediator for Bambam and Jinyoung, sometimes Jinyoung has to be the mediator for Jaebeom and Bambam. Essentially the commonality in the disagreements of their trio friendship is Bambam and currently, Jinyoung feels as though he should route the conversation elsewhere.

“What else is in the cards for tonight then boys?” 

It’s then based on the look on Jaebeom’s face, that Jinyoung thinks that maybe talking about the plans for tonight – on Jaebeom’s birthday – isn’t re-routing the conversation. Especially since it’s Bambam’s whose eyes light up and is the one to reply to him.

“Obviously we’re going out tonight,” Bambam paused and turned to Jaebeom, wagging his finger in the latter’s face, “there’s no way you’re getting out of this. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and didn’t respond as he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had rejected Bambam’s invitations to go out consistently for the last 6 months and on his birthday of all days, Bam was going to force him out of the house just as he had done this morning to come to the café.

He looks back to the front counter, his eyes searching for the barista who has now suddenly disappeared. A frown begins to make itself known on his face, feeling a bit disappointed by the fact that she may have left already or gone elsewhere, but soon she’s popping up from behind the counter, no doubt getting something from the cabinets below. Jaebeom feels relief. 

“What did you say to her?” he asked suddenly looking back at Bambam.

He cocked his head to the side, confused, “What did I say to who?” 

“The barista behind the counter.” 

His friend nodded his head slowly, suddenly realizing what Jaebeom means. A smirk appears on his face, “nothing much… Just how it was your birthday and it would be really good if we could all embarrass you by singing about it. She’s not a barista, by the way, she owns the place. Kinda backward thinking there Jae. It’s the 21st century, women can own things now, they can vote.” 

“I know that,” Jaebeom hissed. 

Bambam puts up his hands in defeat, “I’m just making sure.” 

“Don’t you know her?” Jinyoung asked, “isn’t that why we came here?” 

Jaebeom’s interests are perked. It’s not often that the three of them meet new people. It’s not like there’s a huge point to it. The last new person the three of them met was Mark – also a vampire – a bartender at their favorite club in the city, but that was in 2007. 

He waits for Bambam’s explanation as to how he knows this girl and why they came here specifically beside it just being near Jaebeom’s apartment. 

Waving his hand nonchalantly, the Thai boy gives his answer, “I don’t really know her. Minji does. Met her in some kind of class, I think. SoulCycle? Pilates? Zumba? I don’t know. I can’t keep up with her and her activities these days.” 

Minji is Bambam’s mate. He had turned her only a month after they met. 

Jaebeom’s not sure what he would do if he met his mate. He doesn’t know if he would want to subject them to turning and living the same kind of life as him, but he also doesn’t know if he could continue life alone after meeting his mate. If he ever meets them.

“Why the curiosity?” Jinyoung asked, for once finding it hard to remain stone-faced. Even his usual chill, non-revealing demeanor seems to fade away when it appears that his older friend might be attracted to someone. 

Jaebeom simply shrugged, “it’s nothing…” 

“What do you think? Could she be the one?” Bambam asked teasingly, pointing to the girl behind the counter. 

Jinyoung rolled his eyes almost immediately at the younger boy, “if you’re going to keep bothering him about it, don’t make it so obvious idiot.” 

Jaebeom had been alive – or more like undead – for 200 years and more than half of that time he had to listen to this same conversation from his friends over and over again. His patience was wearing thin and 180 years later, he was tired of their pestering. 

He leaned forward slowly and grabbed his green tea off the table, making sure to visibly flinch at the heat of the drink, Bambam, and Jinyoung chuckling at his reaction. Out of the three of them, Jaebeom certainly had the most practice when it came to “putting on a show” for the humans and “acting” the most human. Taking a sip, he looked back at the girl behind the counter. 

The youngest vampire had spent many of their outings and conversations hypothesizing who Jaebeom’s mate could be. Despite being the oldest of the three, Jaebeom was the only one left who still hadn’t found his mate and he was beginning to feel hopeless. Typically, Bambam pointed out any human girl as a candidate – all of them of course ended up not being his mate. Therefore, Jaebeom didn’t pay attention to his picks anymore, but he had to admit… He did get a strange feeling from the girl behind the counter. 

Jaebeom looked to you, hoping to catch your gaze as you quickly made the coffee orders for the few people waiting to the side of the cash register. Just when he was about to give up and focus his attention back on his friends, you tore your concentration away from the drink in your hand and looked up at him from across the cafe. 

Jaebeom focused his gaze deep onto you with his eyes – testing, checking, and trialing your focus. You didn’t look away, instead, you trained your eyes deeply into his and stared at him until finally, it was Jaebeom who broke the contact. 

He shook his head at his friends, disappointed by your inability to break the trance and ultimately confused at the feeling he still got from you despite that. 

Jaebeom took another sip of the tea, “it’s not her.” 

“Did you have to debate that Uber driver on the Twilight franchise?” Jinyoung groaned at Bambam as soon as they’re out of the car. 

The entire twenty-minute ride, he had got into a heated discussion with their driver on how Twilight was not “true” or realistic to most actual vampire folklore. It had been an excruciating thing to listen to. 

“Got to stand up for our kind dude.” 

“Okay, but what happens when she starts asking how you know all these things or why you’re so interested in vampire stuff?” Jinyoung tended to always be right. This wasn’t an exception.

Brushing off his pants, Bambam gives him a nonchalant wave, “chill out man. Everyone loves vampire stuff.” 

“Maybe in 2008,” Jaebeom said just barely loud enough for his friends to hear them. The two of them laughed, Bambam shoving him playfully on the shoulder, “Birthday boy getting funny on us.” 

“I was always funny,” Jaebeom deadpanned. 

“Funny and looking good tonight. Let’s get you laid, shall we?” 

After a day that was jampacked full of various activities planned by his youngest friend, the last thing Jaebeom wanted to do was spend extra energy on trying to get some girl to come home with him tonight. Besides, he wasn’t that guy anymore. 

Jinyoung scoffed, “he doesn’t need to get laid tonight.”

“Yes, he does! Jaebeom how long has it been?” 

This time it’s Jinyoung that shoves Bambam’s shoulder – except it’s not all that playful. 

“Fine don’t answer that, but I’m just saying there will be quite a few girls here that you can have your pick of, despite your plain outfit.” 

Jaebeom looked at the clothes he had changed into when Bambam spared him a sliver of time to go back home to digress and feed his cats. The latter had wanted him to borrow clothes of his, but instead, Jaebeom decided on pulling pieces from his closet that felt more like him, less like Bambam. A plain pair of ripped jeans, an oversized black shirt that he had bought at a shop from his trip to London last year, and his mother’s necklace that often wasn’t missing from its spot around his neck.

Bambam’s earlier critique was that he was dressed too basic and that no girls would bat an eye at him. Girls don’t like plain guys, he had said. The comment makes Jaebeom wonder about you and whether you’d fall under the category of not liking “plain” guys. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. It was probably the eighth time he had made himself do it today. Jaebeom had found his mind often drifting to you throughout the day for some unexplainable reason. During their walk in the park, he wondered if you would take strolls during your breaks from the café or when Bambam forced him to go paint pottery for an hour and a half he thought about what you would paint. It frustrated him because he hadn’t even spoken to you – not a word and yet you were clearly on his mind for one reason or another. It wasn’t even like you were his mate. He had tried to see if you were unaffected by his trance, his hypnotic capabilities, but you had just stared at him completely fixated just as everyone else was. 

Jaebeom was not going to think about you any longer. He was already planning on avoiding your café. 

“We’re on the list,” Bambam tells the bouncer when they arrive at the entrance of the club. He scans the list and motions his head towards the direction of the door to signal to the three of them to go on ahead. There’s a bit of a whine coming from the people waiting in line which admittedly so makes Jaebeom feel a little guilty, but Bambam ensures him it’s fine, “why have a friend who works at a club if we can’t use him for the perks?” 

“Why does he keep bartending again?” As soon as the question is out of Jaebeom’s mouth he realizes it was a stupid thing to ask since the answer is apparent. 

Bambam laughed at him, giving his long – irreplaceable he’d like to remind everyone – leather coat to the person at the front of the club. Jaebeom swears he hears him tell the coat check guy the “proper” way to put it on a hanger. 

“Obviously for the girls Jaebeom.” 

Mark’s mate – Hana had passed on a long time ago. Jaebeom had never got the chance to meet her, only hears about her in passing from some stories that Mark has told the three of them. He hadn’t turned her. Jaebeom’s never asked why. 

“Girls… of course.” 

He can’t help but think about how Mark must feel inside. Although Jaebeom doesn’t know him as well as he knows Bambam and Jinyoung, whenever he’s with the older boy he’s always got a smile on his face. Often quiet, but he’s always got certain energy bouncing off of him that would indeed make him popular with women. However, if what they say about mates is true, would that mean that a piece of Mark was now missing? Did he feel like he was less of a person? Jaebeom felt like that sometimes and he hadn’t even met his mate yet. Mark had his, but now he didn’t. 

“Drinks?” Jinyoung asked the two of them and Jaebeom is partly surprised. Out of the three of them, Bambam was the one who was the most comfortable in a club or even bar setting. He figures that Jinyoung must be using his birthday as an excuse to cut loose and become someone else for the night.

Bambam instantly nodded his head at Jinyoung’s suggestion and Jaebeom finds himself trailing behind the two of them as they make their way over to Mark at the bar who is throwing his head back at something the girl across the bar is saying. Judging on Jaebeom’s intuition – it’s a bit fake and overplayed, but you got to do what you got to do.

“My man!” Bambam yelled over the music, leaning against the counter in a way to make sure he doesn’t get the elbows of his long sleeve turtleneck wet. Mark in response, turned to them and smiled, then routing his attention back to the girl, giving her an apologetic smile. Her half-smile says everything Jaebeom could need to know – this girl would not be going home with Mark after his shift tonight. 

“What can I get you guys tonight,” Mark turned to Jaebeom and the latter can barely make out his sharp canines in the dark club, “birthday boy you want anything special?” 

Before Jaebeom can reply that he wants to be at home, Bambam answers for him.

“Could we maybe get something that’s off the menu?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Mark who gave him a shit-eating grin, knowing immediately what he was talking about. 

“Off the menu” meant Mark’s secret stash of O negative underneath the counter. While alcohol had the same effect on them that it had on the average humans, adding a bit of blood just made a little bit better. Okay… it made it a lot better. 

“Three negronis coming right up,” Mark winked to give a little signal that these would most likely not be as well composed or put together as a negroni, but due to them being in public, he couldn’t necessarily announce a shit ton of alcohol mixed with human blood was going to be served up to them. 

“How has your birthday been Jae?” Mark asked as he was in the middle of placing three glasses onto the countertop in between them.

It was difficult to explain since to Jaebeom it had just been another day except for a little bit more excruciating. The celebration of another year “older” filled him with thoughts of how much time has passed, whether he’s done anything truly important and why he still hasn’t found the person who is meant to complete him… but like he said only a little more excruciating than any other day. 

Jaebeom shrugged in response, “Bam planned a lot and for the most part, it was…” he paused for a moment, wondering if he should say how he felt – numb, lost, and wishing the day would come to an end as if tomorrow won’t bring the same thoughts or problems. But as he looked at his friends who had tried so hard today to make him happy and celebrate, he decided to guard them against the ultimate truth, “for the most part it was fun – really good. I mean besides the singing at the café of course.” He throws in the last part to at least have some kind of believability to his story. 

He notices Mark’s eyebrows lift out of curiosity as his concentration focuses on measuring out each part of the drinks, “An entire café sang you happy birthday? Damn, I don’t think I could ever get through that, so I can only imagine how you feel.” 

“That was Bam’s idea,” Jinyoung muttered. 

Once again, Bambam does his nonchalant waving of the hand, “it wasn’t that bad. I mean okay, maybe it was… But Jaebeom was obsessed with the girl who led it.” 

Jaebeom suddenly feels like he wants to put duct tape over his friend’s mouth. 

“I was not obsessed with her! I don’t even know her!” Jaebeom for some reason felt the need to defend himself, which was probably the worst option. Him getting defensive was usually a tell-tale sign for his friends being right on whatever they were confronting him with. 

Bambam scoffed, bringing gliding his drink across the bar to be directly in front of him once Mark has poured it neatly into the short glass, “I noticed you staring at her before I went to get the drinks. That’s why I asked her to do it in the first place.” 

“So, she doesn’t know Minji?” Jinyoung questioned. 

The youngest takes his first sip and immediately lets out a hissing noise, signaling to Mark that it’s both strong and good. “No, she does, but Jaebeom’s weird staring only made it that much better.” 

Mark pushed the other two glasses towards Jinyoung and Jaebeom, “Was she your…” he drifted off, almost as though he was finding it physically difficult to get the word out. Jaebeom can’t help but feel the want to reach his hand out towards Mark and place it comfortingly on his shoulder, but his group of friends don’t do that. Instead, he saves him the trouble by answering back right away, not forcing him to say it.

“No, she wasn’t.” 

The bartender nodded slowly, suddenly avoiding his gaze from the three familiar boys across the bar from him, “That’s uh… too bad that she wasn’t able to break the trance. Sorry, Jaebeom.” 

He knows that Mark is just trying to be nice, especially when they’re on a subject that he clearly can’t and doesn’t want to talk about, but the attempt to be comforting makes Jaebeom nauseous. 

“Well maybe he’ll find her here tonight,” Jinyoung quipped, placing a hand on Jaebeom’s back. Sometimes the latter swore that his friends treated him he had just found out he had a terminal illness. 

“I sincerely doubt it,” Jaebeom commented gruffly. 

There’s a sound from the other side of the bar from a customer who seems fed up with the conversation being had between the four of them – distracting Mark from serving anyone else. He gives a signal to them to notify them that he’ll be there in a second. “Well… come to me if you guys need more drinks.  It’s on me tonight.” 

“Thanks, man,” Jaebeom tells him honestly because he might need a couple more drinks before he gets to the state of wanting to be in this room.

Mark said a final word of “see you guys later” and heads to the other end of the bar to help customers who have been waiting. Grabbing their drinks, Jaebeom, Jinyoung, and Bambam turn around to depart the bar, to find somewhere to sit for a bit before the drinks truly begin to hit them.  

With his drink in hand, Jaebeom took a sip and reveled in the perfect balance of alcohol to burn his throat and blood to soothe it. The drink was probably the most relaxing part of his day thus far and as he looked out at the crowd, he could already tell that maybe the mixture was going to his head due to his sudden thinking that this place wasn’t all that bad.

Despite not being a club guy, if he were to go out, Jaebeom would always choose this club that Mark works out. To put it simply – it was vampire friendly. With Mark behind the counter and his “secret” supply free-flowing, it became a notoriously known place for vampires in town. If he had to guess, the attendance on an average night was probably evenly split 50/50, humans and vampires.

The humans weren’t aware of the vampires of course – for the most part.

Jaebeom cleared his throat once they’ve found a booth to sit in, “so… Bam what do you know about that girl?” 

Both Jinyoung and Bambam exchange glances before looking back at the birthday boy. The latter tried his best to conceal the smile on his face, “not much… just that she owns the café, knows Minji, and is very single.” 

For some reason, Jaebeom’s stomach does a little flip, but he wishes it wouldn’t. “S-So?” Through his stutter, he tries to remain as confident as possible, but his friends see right through his façade.

Jinyoung leaned forward until his elbows rest on the top of his thighs, “Jaebeom you can be honest with us… Why the sudden fascination with this girl? Are you sure she didn’t break the trance? Just with the way that you’re acting…” Jinyoung drifted off, not bothering to finish his final sentence, but once again looking at Bambam. It makes Jaebeom lean forward in his seat as well. 

“With the way, I’m acting? I’m completely normal. I’m fine. She didn’t break the trance and now I’m just curious about her as curious as anyone would be about someone they meet.” 

There’s the silence between the three of them until Bambam speaks up, “You didn’t meet her though.” 

It dawns on Jaebeom that he didn’t even speak to you and he wonders why does it feel like he did. Why did it feel like he knew you but didn’t at the same time? Why haven’t his mind and body been cooperating with him since this morning at the café? 

Just with the way that you’re acting…

The way he was acting? What did that mean? Was the way he was acting mean something specific? 

He feels like he blinks and thirty minutes go by. And in that past thirty minutes, Jaebeom had somehow managed to drink 6 of Mark’s “negronis.” He felt like his head was beginning to get dizzy. It wasn’t often that Jaebeom found himself drunk on the verge of drunkenness due to alcohol not affecting him as much as humans. To even remotely get to that state, he had to drink a lot and it had to be strong. 

“You feeling it Jaebeom?” Through the darkness and the haze of the alcohol, Jaebeom could barely make out the hint of the smile playing on Jinyoung’s face. He had switched to a glass of wine at some point while Jaebeom was binge drinking which had to be the most Jinyoung thing ever. Who drinks a glass of wine in a dark, sweaty club? 

He’s afraid to answer him verbally which would give his friend an obvious sign of how he was feeling. So instead he just shrugged – as usual. 

“Dude let’s get out there!” The youngest shouted, motioning his hands to the middle of the club, “dance… maybe find you a girl?” 

Jaebeom watched the people pressing up against each other on the dancefloor, moving their bodies, and drinking like their lives depended on it. He wondered if he wanted to be a part of that. Everyone out there was so full of life and vigor… he just wasn’t. He also didn’t know if he was that drunk, but bless Bambam because he didn’t need alcohol to be out there. 

For what feels like the millionth time, his mind drifted to you. Was this your kind of place? Would you come here? If you did would you come alone? With friends? Someone else? You didn’t seem like the type of person who would like this place. You seemed more like him – the observant, calm, inquisitive type who would much rather be at home with a book than at a party. 

Then for a moment, he can picture it. It’s almost like he’s in a trance – an image of you curled up on a couch – his couch – under a large white cable knit blanket fills his mind. Rather than reading, your painting with watercolors – the kind that seems to be in every elementary school classroom – and he hears a voice out of view. His voice.

“Painting really?”  

Jaebeom sees you glance up from your painting to look at him, smiling.

“Looks like I’m gonna have a lot of time on my hands so… might as well get good at something.” 

Jaebeom hears himself laugh, “Okay but watercolors?” 

He feels like he’s going to pass out when he finally hears it – your laugh. 

“Let the artist work Im Jaebeom! She needs to get good enough to live off auction house money once her paintings get sold! Shh!” Despite your words, you smiled and suddenly moved the tools away from you onto the coffee table. You lifted half the blanket off of you and patted the space of the couch beside you, “you know I can’t say no when you give me that face. Come here.”

And just like that, the vision is gone. Jaebeom feels confused because it didn’t feel like a dream or fantasy, but it felt real… it felt like a memory. 

“Hello, Earth to Jaebeom?” 

Right… dancing. Maybe dancing would help him forget whatever game his mind was playing on him.

“Yeah let’s fucking go.” 

Another instance occurs where Jaebeom blinks and everything moves so fast. Suddenly he’s no longer sat at the table with Bambam and Jinyoung, but instead in the middle of that mess on the dancefloor with everyone else. He almost feels like one of them. He almost feels human again. But as soon as that feeling washes over him, it quickly dissipates. 

He knows it must be the drinks doing all the work, because otherwise, he would have never found himself in the middle of all these people, thinking that dancing is a good idea. Dancing had never done anything remotely good for him before, so why now? To help forget? Was it going to help him do that? 

“I swear it’s like he’s not even here.” 

Jaebeom tuned back into the moment, and it’s when he realizes that Jinyoung and Bambam have been trying to get his attention this entire time.

“Sorry I was just- the alcohol you know…” He says it so quietly that he knows his friends won’t be able to hear him over the music and the millions of conversations happening around them. But he thinks that maybe it’s better that way and that it truly doesn’t matter what he says.

Jinyoung comes closer to Jaebeom, until his mouth is right next to his ear, “we were just asking if there’s anyone that you’re interested in.” 

They’re still on this idea? Jaebeom asked himself. 

Even in his drunken state, he didn’t think that finding some random girl to fuck was going to help with the emptiness he’s been feeling lately, but for the first time since getting up and onto the dance floor he takes in the people around him. As depressing as it was to observe, most people were here with someone else. 

It’s then his gaze falls onto a couple that stands far on the left side of the floor, behind where Jinyoung is standing. The two of them have their fronts pressed up against each other, dancing so closely with arms exploring one another’s bodies. The female has her head resting on the male’s shoulder as if she’s too exhausted to keep going, but can’t dare to part with him. It’s like they’re part of each other and any distance would cause them to lose all sense of themselves.

The girl lifts her head off the male’s shoulder and gives him this look that makes Jaebeom’s heart – if it was still beating – ache. She says something to him and he nodded happily in response. Even through the dim lights and large crowd, Jaebeom could see the sharp teeth inside her mouth.

She placed her head back against his shoulder, this time, however, the male had his head angled back, stretching out his neck. The girl moves in closer until her mouth just ghosts over the skin, breathing on it until the boy shuts his eyes awaiting the sting and pleasure that will come next.

Biting down against his flesh, breaking skin, the girl drinks from her partner. Even though he’s at a distance from them, Jaebeom can tell by the look on the man’s face that he’s enjoying being fed on and that it certainly isn’t his first time. 

He feels like his eyes are frozen on the couple. It’s been so long since he fed off someone instead of the stuff that he gets from his connection at the hospital. Jaebeom tries not to think about the way his fingertips tingle and his throat dries up at the thought of drinking from a warm body. The alcohol has only dehydrated him and made him feel even more thirsty – he’s afraid that going back to the bar and asking Mark for a glass of O negative exclusively isn’t going to make that go away. 

After a moment or two, the girl removes her mouth from the boy’s neck and drags her tongue over the spot where she had drawn blood from, ultimately covering the wound and signaling that she was done drinking. 

He thinks of how risky it is to do that at a place like this. Although half of the people around them also take part in the activity of drinking blooding and granted most of them aren’t paying attention to those around them – there are still unsuspecting humans everywhere. If one wrong person were to see then that could be it for this club being a haven for the vampire community in the city and that would probably be… it for vampires in this city in general. 

But who was he kidding? He was being a hypocrite because he’s for sure done the same thing. 

You’ve once again entered his mind. However, this time it isn’t an image, picture, or vision that occupies his thoughts, but instead just the idea of how you would react to who he is, what he really is. Throughout his time that he’s been undead he’s only done the “reveal” to a handful of people and even then, it took him a long time to get there. Well except for one person who ultimately was a mistake and his friends hadn’t hesitated to let him know.

With you, Jaebeom felt that you wouldn’t be the kind of person to judge him instantly based on what he was. You would be shocked of course, maybe even scared, but you wouldn’t let that cloud your judgment. You wouldn’t let yourself reject something just because it was unfamiliar. 

What the fuck was he on about? 

It must be the alcohol doing this to him. He would have to thank Mark for making them strong this time around, but also make a mental note to never let this happen again. Jaebeom was already a deeper thinker, but this was getting out of hand.

There’s a sudden grasp of Jaebeom’s elbow and he feels himself jump at the sudden touch. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized it wasn’t one of his friends considering Bambam and Jinyoung were both dancing over to his right side. 

When he turned around to greet the person who had grabbed him, he was disappointed, surprised, and annoyed all in one. It was the last person he had expected to see her, except not really because it made perfect sense. 

“Jaebeom… hi.” Ara smiled shyly at him, tucking a string of hair behind her ear and slightly looking down at the ground. He wants to groan because he knows she’s doing this because he had once mentioned that he thought it was hot when she looked innocent. He shouldn’t have ever said that.

He’s not sure what to say, because what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been trying to avoid for the past year and a half? Jaebeom had said everything he had wanted to say to her. 

At one point in his life, he had been stupid. He had been stupid and he had abused the power that had been bestowed upon him since the day he had been turned. Perhaps one would assume that he’d been foolish with his ability just at the start – 100, maybe even 150 years ago. Instead, Jaebeom had gone through a rough patch about a year or two ago. 

The overwhelming pressure of finding his mate had started to get to him again. All he needed was someone, anyone to break the hypnotic trance and that was it. A task that seemed so simple, yet never came. So, Jaebeom had used hypnotism to his advantage, getting as many girls as he could in his bed in the shortest amount of time possible. He wasn’t proud of it and it was something he would constantly regret as long as he was ali- around. 

One of those girls… had been Ara. 

Jaebeom felt relieved when she didn’t wait for him to answer back at her greeting, “How are you? I-It’s your birthday, right? How old are you turning again? 27?” She winked immediately after her question and he wants to roll his eyes.

She was the mistake by the way. The mistake that knew about who he was. 

He doesn’t even remember how it happened, how his secret slipped, or what the circumstances of her finding out was. Part of him thinks he was just horny, thirsty, and weak, but she found out and she… loved it. 

Weirdly enough, Ara loved the idea of him being a vampire and his “lifestyle” which at first Jaebeom didn’t think too much about. He thought okay she’s taking this extremely well… better than anyone else I’ve ever told, but whatever, but then it became strange. 

She was what those in the vampire community call a “vampire fetishizer.”

He coughed awkwardly, his gaze wandering over to Jinyoung and Bambam, hoping they would catch sight of him stuck with Ara and come rescue him. Jaebeom wasn’t that lucky though, not even on his birthday, “Yeah… 27.” 

Jaebeom can’t help but look at her neck. It’s fully on display and it was clear that Ara had come here to find someone to feed on her. He had been the one to show Ara this place before he had been clued into her little… vampire obsession. 

“Well did the birthday boy get everything he wants today?” She smiled and gave Jaebeom those eyes. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and he realizes he has to keep himself in check because he’s not that weak tonight… right? 

His eyes flash to her neck again and Jaebeom feels his throat get even drier. He was so thirsty and he knows Ara would be so willing. 

No Jaebeom… No. 

“I-I uh yeah… you know got- yeah today’s been good,” he stuttered awkwardly, bringing his tongue out to wet his dry lips. Judging on the look on Ara’s face, she’s taken the action the wrong way. 

“You look thirsty Jaebeom… do you want a drink?” 

He knows what she means and Jaebeom swallows hard in an attempt to distract himself, to remind himself that he’s not that thirsty. He doesn’t need it that bad.

“I-I think I am.” 

The words come out faster than his brain can process to stop them and the part of Jaebeom that’s coherent, sharp, and aware wants to punch the weak and drunk Jaebeom in the face. 

Without a word, Ara turned from Jaebeom and began walking to one of the exits at the side of the club. He feels like he’s the one in a trance, mindlessly following her through the people, not even hearing Jinyoung and Bambam calling out to him. The only thing that Jaebeom makes note of as he follows her is Mark’s face behind the bar, giving him a tight smile. It almost stops Jaebeom. Almost. 

When they finally get outside through the exit door, they find themselves in a small alley between the club and a dry cleaner. 

Jaebeom doesn’t even get a moment to think before Ara is pushing him against the wall of the dry cleaner, her hands roaming up and down his body, her lips going to his own. They’re pressed up against each other so closely that he recalls the couple he had watched earlier. He feels sick comparing this moment now to the two of them. 

“Fuck I missed you so much,” Ara sighed seductively into this ear, making Jaebeom’s stomach churn further at her clear longing for him. Well not him, but the vampire part of him.

“Please, I need it,” she mewled. At her words, he almost puts a stop to this whole thing and has to question whether this is the right thing to do. Jaebeom wonders if this is old Jaebeom behavior – the one that just used women and threw them away later like toys, but then he remembers that this is Ara. She’s using him as well. 

It’s almost as though that old, cocky, snide Jaebeom appears out of nowhere as he says his next words and brings himself closer to her neck, “do you really need it?” 

“Yes, Jaebeom I do, please.” Ara already sounds so desperate and he’s barely done anything. He can’t help but smirk at her reaction.

“Then I guess I better give it to you then.” 

He’s about to do it. He’s about to bite down and finally relieve his thirst, his craving, but then he looks to the side of the alley – towards the street. He feels like he’s seeing things again like he’s in the middle of a hallucination or mirage. That thought is pushed away when he locks eyes with you. 

“Don’t mind me,” you placed your hands up in front of yourself, to show him you’re not eavesdropping. Your action frustrated you because it would have been much better to say nothing, but you felt yourself panic. The prolonged eye contact with him while he’s just seconds away from pressing down – bitting down? – on the girl’s next for some reason pushed you into defensive mode. Not to mention his eyes… his eyes were – red? 

The girl hadn’t noticed you; you aren’t even sure if she heard you, but she certainly noticed Jaebeom’s stare fixated on you. When she faces you, she wears an unpleasant sneer, clearly annoyed by your interruption of whatever this was. 

“Can you go?” She said, the agitation in her voice more than apparent. 

Rather than immediately leave the scene, you continued to stare at Jaebeom. It’s difficult to say why you decided to walk this specific way home despite it being so late and dark out, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be pulled in this direction. You weren’t someone who believed in signs or fate, but it felt so wrong to go any other way tonight. That was another thing, you felt this kink in your neck that practically forced you or taunted you into looking down the alley between this dry cleaners and club. It was yet another thing about today that felt unexplainable to you as you certainly weren’t expecting the birthday boy from the café today to be in a compromising position with some girl. 

After a moment of more uncomfortable staring – something else that had happened at the café today with him – Jaebeom breaks your gaze and looks down at his feet. The eye roll and acrid look on the girl’s face don’t go unnoticed by you. 

You shouldn’t be here. 

“S-Sorry. I’ll just get going then,” you concluded, unsure why you felt an uncomfortable sickness spread throughout the entirety of your body. 

You barely knew this guy – all you really knew was that today was his birthday and that he was friends with Minji’s boyfriend. Basically nothing. Yet now and even earlier back at the café you had felt this weird sensation within yourself. Not even when you looked at him, but just being in the same presence. It had been so hard to focus on making coffee today when he was seated across the room. Every part of your body just wanted to get closer, gravitate towards him. It was fucking weird… and scary. 

The girl nodded as if to signal “yeah about time,” at the announcement of your departure. Jaebeom on the other hand, still had his eyes glued to the ground as if looking at you once again will cause him some kind of pain.

Just as you’re about to continue your trip back home, you stop yourself and look back at the couple in the alley. 

“Happy birthday by the way…” you paused wondering if it would be weird to say his name considering he doesn’t even know yours, but you shove the thought out of your mind, “Jaebeom…”    

Hearing you say his name causes that tingling feeling in his fingertips to come back and his entire mind is sent into a frenzy. He feels too awkward, too shy to look at you again, but a sudden thought washed over him. What if earlier was a mistake? What if you are his mate? With the way he was currently feeling just at you saying his name, the visions he had in the club and the nonstop place you know had in his mind, it was difficult to believe that you weren’t his mate. 

Bambam and Jinyoung had found it difficult to explain to him what it felt like to find your mate, but surely what he felt right now wasn’t normal behavior or feelings. Unless he was a psychopath. 

Tightly shutting his eyes and drawing together all his strength, Jaebeom aims to try once again to see if you can break the hypnotic trance, unaffected by his abilities. However, as soon as he’s finally ready, head turned up to face you – you’re gone. You didn’t wait for him to respond to the happy birthday message. Instead, you simply left not wanting to be a burden or troublesome to whatever it was those two were doing in that alley. 

“Thank fucking god, let’s get back to it,” Ara concluded with a final roll of her eyes, gripping Jaebeom’s shoulders to get him close to her once again. He stares at her neck, but this time he doesn’t feel anything. He no longer feels thirsty and his appetite is gone. 

Jaebeom shrugs her off slightly. The encounter with you has caused him to wake up and realize what a bad idea it would be to do this right now. He hopes that Ara won’t put up a fight – he doesn’t want to have to hypnotize her if he doesn’t need to. 

At his actions, Ara takes a step away in disbelief, as if she actually can’t believe that Jaebeom is changing his mind and no longer wants her, “are you serious?” 

He doesn’t say anything but instead avoids eye contact with her just as he had done for you. 

Snorting, she glared at him, “Fine. Whatever. I don’t fucking care. I can find someone else to feed off of me. Yours never felt that good anyway. Asshole.”

Just like that, she’s out of his life once again and Jaebeom can’t help but feel thankful. He should have never been weak enough to be dragged out by here anyway. He had just been consumed by thoughts of you, alcohol, and the couple on the dancefloor. Then again, not coming out here would have robbed him of the opportunity of seeing you again and finding out that you actually knew his name. 

That’s when it dawned on him. 

Fuck… how much had you seen? What did you see? 

Jaebeom realized that he might have some explaining to do

[mariaiscrafting]

You know, what think I like when you are critical of a content creator is that you know how to separate a fact from especulation, unlike a blog out there that took especulation as facts.

Example, that night when we were critical of Karl, or any instance you have discussed about him, a lot of anons were saying that he gave them clout chaser vibes to them, and despite your opinion, you expressed that those were only especulation and not the truth, and to keep that in mind. That's good critical thinking.

But this blog had some similar anons, saying that he only is friends with the Feral Boys gro clout- In fact, they said the Feral Boys were only in it to benefit from clout and money. And they took it as a truth. I know you instance on them is neutral, but come one, they are friends. All of them. Karl isn't friends with them for clout. Like today Karl was playing golf with salad gang plus Sapnap and George at first and then Quackity and Dream joined bc they had spared time and it all devolved into typical chaos (Poor Corpse and Tina and Brook, had to endure those children lol/lh /j). Like, the stream wasn't planned with the 5/5 yet they joined, missing Karl and just having fun.

Idk, I guess that blog's superiority (They were a SBI focused blog) just irritated me. It's as if they were putting both groups at each other as if those streamers aren't friends or close. They were singing prayers of one while shunning the other based from especulation. Criticissism is fine, in fact recommended to be critical of your interests, but taking rumors as facts to base your crit is yikes. It's as if I wanted to crit SBI and base it only of "Philza hanging only with people younger than him is kinda weird ngl.." or "Sbi doesn't care about Tommy cuz he joined late" like that dumb Tumblr post did or some fuckers in Twitter imply.

The main reason I take so much care to separate speculation from evidence-backed theories and confirmed truths is because I feel like that separation is what distinguishes us from mcyttwt the most. One of the main reasons for mcyttwt's toxicity, imo - for its relentless cancelling of everyone, for its bandwagon campaigns - is that people oftentimes criticize and defend based on their personal feelings rather than rationale or evidence.

For example, I complain a lot about Dream stans on here, but you know the reason I didn't stop watching Dream directly after the cheating scandal broke loose, even though I thought he cheated? Because of mcytblr Dream stans. Mcytblr Dream stans engaged with me in discussion, both publicly and in DMs, about the cheating scandal, and even those who eventually came to the conclusion that Dream didn't cheat accepted the facts and statistics they were given and kept a healthy skepticism throughout the process. On Twitter, Dream stans were defending him before he even made a video following up to the mods' initial accusations because they felt that Dream wasn't the kind of guy to lie or cheat. They were replying to screenshots of statistical analyses from subreddits and to articles from mathematicians and staticians with extremely reactionary responses because of that feeling, which they believed in so adamantly, they had accepted it as fact. The thing is, to believe that Dream didn't cheat in the face of all the statistical and rhetorical evidence to the contrary is, in itself, speculative. Usually we think of speculation as a baseless theory that something is a positive truth- that is to say, that something did happen. But speculation also applies to those theories of someone not having done something, when the opposite has been nearly proven to be true.

For this same reason, I chose not to ignore the anti-technotwt threads with screenshots of Techno's old tweets in them. For me to have simply ignored these screenshots and continued supposing that Techno never expressed bigoted beliefs and/or currently doesn't would have been speculative on my part, and to boot, blatantly wrong, given the evidence to the contrary.

People in this fandom, and in all RPF/RPF-adjacent fandoms need to understand that almost everything they believe about the CCs they watch is speculative, at least to some extent, because of the nature of the content they make. Even if someone, in your opinion, displays evidence of some aspect of their personality - whether that be some form of bigoted, sweet, rude, clout-chasing, or anything else - because of the extremely one-sided nature of sharing one's life through a screen, that theory of ours will almost alwyas only ever be speculation, not a solid conclusion that can be drawn. We will never know these people's true intentions behind something shared to us via the Internet.

That vagueness leads to virtually every viewer creating a different theory in our heads about the CCs we watch, and we can't treat those theories as facts, especially not when sharing them with the rest of a fandom. I'm not a very big blog, but I consider even over 50 followers to be way too many people to spread a theory too, without at least clarifying that what I'm posting is speculation. If I have evidence, I like to list it or, if I can, provide sources; but otherwise, I take care to qualify most things with phrases or disclaimers that will clue followers into the speculative nature of whatever it is I'm saying. This is because theories and "feelings" can blaze through a fandom like wildfire, especially somewhere like Twitter, where so many things are word-of-mouth or based on summary due to character limitation.

You know why mcyttwt was cancelling Andi? Only a handful of original Tweeters under the cancel Andi hashtags actually knew what clips or tweets to criticize her for, or tried to elaborate on that criticism. But because every other mcyttwt user was getting bombarded by their mutuals hate-posting about Andi on their TLs, the "negative feeling" towards Andi grew and grew, even if most people didn't even know what they were supposed to feel negative about, exactly. Our judgement works on a quick trigger on the Internet because of the amount of information we're receiving, and so, even a single bad word against someone you don't have too strong of an opinion on can fundamentally alter your perception of them, usually subconsciously. If the first thing you see about Andi, who you've only seen on a couple LOH's or a couple Punz streams before then, is a tweet along the lines of, "disappointed in Andi for her homophobia and joking about suicide," despite you having no context, you will most likely be pushed to the negative side of her. Thus begins the cycle of hatred, building up and up, leading to you searching for more and more criticism about Andi, whether speculative or not, until you solidly and genuinely believe she is a Horrible Person. It all starts with the vaguest fucking feeling, because that's all speculation has to go off of, and it snowballs into a fucking wildfire across an entire fandom. I'm not about to be another person to let feelings snowball and spread like that.

Now, I don't know what exact blog you're referring to, but as an adamant SBI enthusiast, let me flip the argument many SBI stans have for their speculation upon the genuity of Karl's friendship with the Feral Bois, onto SBI. What do we have to go off of for the genuity of SBI's friendship, anyways? Our perceived brother dynamic between Tommy and Wilbur could very well just be Tommy capitalizing on Wilbur's brand and continuing the charade until now because it's been profitable. Maybe Techno only continues to associate with SBI because he knows how much his fanbase likes headcanon'ing about SBI, so he puts up with streams with them so he can continue to feed his fanbase with dynamics he knows they're obsessed with. Maybe Phil would rather play MC with people his age, and actually dislikes that he's friends with a teenager, but sticks around because he profitted so much off of Dream SMP and SBI-related content. And what could any SBI stan have to argue with me on any of these theories? Just because SBI laughs around each other and seems fond of each other doesn't mean they're actually like that behind the cameras. They so seldomly stream or make videos together anymore, anyways, so maybe they've grown tired of keeping up the dynamic.

Everything I said could be interpreted as utter bullshit, and that's because it fucking is. I don't actually know what Techno wants to do with his life, or how Wilbur and Tommy actually feel about each other, or who Phil wants to fucking befriend. The same goes for Feral Boys. There's nothing wrong with stating your theories or speculation, but to treat them as fact or not at least qualify such posts with the fact that this is all based on your bias and opinion, and no substantive evidence, is irresponsible. Just because you feel like one or more of the Feral Boys is "clout-chasing" doesn't mean you have the right to tout that feeling as truth. I feel a lot of things about a lot of CCs, both negative and positive, but no matter how strong my feelings, unless they have substantive evidence backing them up, I have no right to treat them as facts with my followers.