#there is barely any content of them .. if anyone knows of any of them id love to see it!!

[seafoamsol]

Moving in!

[citygirlyuno305]

Yuno

This is weird but I’m going to speak as a person right now just generally, rather than as any kind of professional or anything. I’ve hesitated to say this for a while, and to speak on Yuno at all, because of my own complicated feelings and because I fear the fallout. But with the new cover and everything I feel like I have to, or I have to get it off my chest. So if you read this, I’m sorry in advance for indulging in what is undeniable projection and bias. I have to put a content warning for harmful sexual relationships and violence here.

I’ve never admitted this to anyone beyond those who already knew, or with my actual public profile or name/ID attached. At age 17, I’m already fucking cringing, I was involved in a sugar-daddy situation. Me, age 17, and a man who was about 40. He had a daughter two years younger than me. I met her. We were friends on facebook. We would eat dinner and I’d have sex with her dad for money after she left to go to her mom’s house. No, I did not need the money. I can’t begin to go into what motivated it at this time because it’s like scratching a barely healed scab. God, I feel gross even thinking about it. Engaging in things like that is unsafe for ANY high schooler. No one stopped me though. My parents didn’t know, and it was shockingly easy to conceal from them, but my friends and siblings did know. Some simply shrugged. Some asked to see pictures of the guy, encouraged it. Some even asked me to ask him if he had friends who wanted to do the same thing with them.

This was obviously disgustingly predatory, but also, just disregarding our ages, it was an extremely violent sexual relationship just generally. Any ‘I worship my sweet sugar baby’ shit when we spoke was significantly outweighed by the things I had to to do. But I did them and even managed not to feel dehumanized at the time because I literally hated myself. So his depreciation fed my own self-hatred. It became very out of control, very quickly.

Predictably, I got pregnant after a little while. Again, I was 17. It was legal, so I had to get an abortion myself. I was pro-choice my entire life- still am. Guess what? Despite that, I felt like shit about that abortion for years. Sometimes I still feel like shit about it. Does that make me getting an abortion less forgivable?

I ask because it seems to be how some are framing their view of Yuno’s innocence or guilt. And I’ve been nice about it or I’ve ignored it up until now, but it’s gotten to a point where it just makes me realize that a lot of people are selfishly self-imposing their own opinions on the character without taking the time to understand what the character themselves needs to heal- like it doesn’t matter to you whether she’s mentally well, or safe. If this doesnt apply to you I hope you take no offense. Is the abortion a huge part of her character? Of course. But it is far from her entire character, and I can’t help but feel like we failed her by not even considering other aspects of her mentality, even if our votes wouldnt change.

To the extent that she regrets her choice, I get that. For the great many people (mainly on twitter) who seem to think abortion is something you can “girlboss queen never cry” your way out of feeling anything for, you’re so woefully wrong that it’s almost alarming. First, being that Yuno’s seemed to be self-inflicted by throwing herself down fucking STAIRS, i can’t even begin to imagine the level of pain she felt. Even when I took that goddamn pill I felt like shit for a week. But more than the physical pain, there IS an emotional pain and a mental pain that just dulls everything else around you. Its more than just societal, the actual biological impact, the abrupt halt of natural processes and jarring hormonal shifts, it literally fucks with your body and your head. I did not want a baby at 17. I did not regret the choice. But I can fully see how some people do once they get an abortion because even for me, it literally felt like a part of me was missing. Gone. Like a part of ME was ripped out. I genuinely hope no one reading this ever has to go through that. And I can’t fathom how much worse that mental pain must be when the abortion is nonmedical.

Is that a reason to make abortion illegal? Fuck no. But I have to make that clear because even saying that has gotten me bombarded with accusations of being prolife, when I’m not.

And you know what, everyone was so kind to me about it, I’m so lucky, really, in retrospect I see that. But when I was SEVENTEEN, it became something that made me so blindingly mad- “its not your fault, youre just a kid, you didnt know.” Yes, I was a kid- but I did KNOW. It felt like that part of me that I killed-because yes, thats how it truly felt-also took my agency with it when it left. Like no one gave a shit enough to tell me that I made a shitty call insofar as getting into that relationship in the first place, and now I’m sitting there with this immeasurable feeling of self-hatred and guilt over something that I did willingly and knowingly (from my POV), I’m feeling this insane emptiness and pain and numbness and I have no one around me to blame so I internalize this self hate even more. Because I couldnt even be angry and upset without simultaneously feeling MORE guilt when the people around me weren’t lashing out at me. I don’t know how to describe this. It felt like no one was holding me accountable for hurting myself, and it was alarming and driving me insane to toe the line between being a victim of my own exercise of choice, and to have no one hold me accountable for the exercise of that choice, even though I myself would not hold anyone else accountable or call them guilty for making the same choice. It felt like no one gaf because those absolving comments designed to make me feel better also somehow felt like I was also being deprived of recognition for the somewhat traumatic experience that it truly was. And even now I really struggle to call it trauma because I still grapple with the idea that I cannot exercise a choice and call it trauma. But its like, no one is angry at the perpetrator (me) for what they did to the victim (also me). And if thats the case, do you really care about me at all? I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words. But that’s where I’m like, we have kind of deprived Yuno of her own victimhood by insisting her actions were victimless.

That said, seeing the line “I wanted you to care enough to scold me and tell me I was wrong” actually hit me pretty hard. I don’t blame Yuno for wanting people to care. Because it truly doesnt feel like it in this instance sometimes.

Double it and pass it to the next person if Yuno really did kill herself when she did it. Because at that point, we’re telling her two things- 1) abortion is okay you didn’t commit murder- okay, fine. But ALSO 2) its okay that you killed yourself, no harm done. No wonder she thinks we don’t give a shit about her, we were too busy politicizing her to consider the fact that we were telling her she didnt err when she fucking offed herself.

And I want this part to be absolutely, abundantly clear: I do not say any of this to demonize SWs. In a manner of speaking I was one. I’m not sure how similar it is to Yuno’s situation but broadly speaking, we live in a world that is generally unsafe for women. Particularly young women, and even more so teenage girls. And we shouldn’t be indifferent to a high schooler showing us that she was having sex with grown men for cash. We shouldn’t demonize her for it, but we shouldve cared enough to probe into what caused her to think this was something she should do. Her friends and parents didnt. I wasnt mentally well when I did it. And call it a girlboss queen shit thing all you want, it fucked me up monumentally after. I still cant think about it without feeling disgusted with myself. And I dont want Yuno to he disgusted with herself but I also dont want to affirm a belief that its genuinely not a problem for high schoolers to do this. People can scream about “well 18 is legal!!!!” all day- its a shitty argument to begin with, though. (If the law said 12 was the age of consent, would you feel comfortable saying “Well its legal!!!” to a relationship between a 12 year old and a 30 year old? No, right? Because the law is not always the baseline of morality). But- and again this is in no way designed to demonize sex workers- situations like Yuno’s are undeniably dangerous.

Is it her fault that something happens if she is attacked? Absolutely NOT. But I still wish someone had given a shit enough about me, my friends, siblings, anyone, to tell me to stop putting myself in a position where it could easily occur. They didnt even tell me that after I got the abortion. Its not that I wanted them to scold me for the abortion-I wanted ANYTHING, but if I’m specific, I wanted them to scold me for what led to it. I wanted them to yell at me for even getting into the sugar daddy situation, which I engaged in willfully because of my OWN self-loathing and need for some form of attention, my OWN warped perception of what constitutes positive attention and what I had to be of value and worthy of that attention. Because I was 17 and I knew that most every time I was yelled at by someone or scolded it was because they cared about me in some form, even if yelling was inappropriate in a given situation. Its weird- without giving too much away here, I managed to keep my abortion from my parents despite being a minor. Maybe half a year after the fact, I told my mom, and only because she was expressing this deep concern that I was suicidal, telling me I wasn’t myself. She wasn’t wrong, of course, I was completely different, idk about suicidal, but certainly depressed. When I told her, she cried, not because shes prolife or anything, but because she was so distraught that she didn’t see what was happening. Frankly she couldn’t have, with the way I went about it and how our lives are structured. And I hate when my mother cries, I love her to death. But her crying felt good. Not like weird masochism good, but like vindication good. Because I knew something was wrong but no one else seemed to think something was wrong for so long, and her weeping over this confirmed for me that yes, I’m right, something- anything- was materially, truly, WRONG with this situation. And when she probed for details I cried too because I forgot how good it felt to have someone who cared enough about me personally to go deeper than superficial opinions on political things, to actually form a personalized opinion or seek more detail as to me specifically. She begged me not to keep up the sugar baby thing, and she was right to do that, and it simultaneously fed my need for care while also maintaining my agency. I am truly lucky beyond words for getting to be my mother’s child.

Anyway, that said, I see how Yuno probably also wanted that from us. To care about the why, and not the what. It didn’t seem like her parents were super involved. Unless I’m missing something.

But that’s the thing, its complicated. I’m pro choice but I hated my choice, but I dont regret my choice, but I do regret it and don’t hate it- I literally can’t put it into words. Its not so black and white. And I think demonizing Yuno for maybe wanting that or harboring the same complicated feelings about her own situation is antithetical to the entire purpose of pro-choice ideology. Is her exercise of choice somehow less forgivable because she might regret her choice?

The answer should be no. To me, anyway.

I would like it if people gave Yuno the same energy that they give any other character. She is a person. She is not just a medium to express any given ideology. And give her the courtesy of trying to understand how it feels to be forgiven for something that you don’t forgive yourself for. Because it doesn’t feel good. I’m in my 20s now and still cannot forgive myself sometimes.

I’m not saying we should have voted X or Y or advocating that Yuno is some kind of monster for what she did. That’d be pretty hypocritical. I’m not unilaterally placing blame on Yuno for her actions either. I’m also not pretending we’re the same person- though the timeline conversation with Shidou where he tells her she’d be good as a healthcare professional, is alarmingly similar to something that happened to me. And that same “Haha, quit playing around,” that’s exactly what I did too. Because I hated myself too much to think it was true. And it took a lot of work to crawl out of that hole. Like, yeah, I’m a lawyer now. I have a different life. I do not require validation from sexual partners to feel joy, I understand the difference between good and bad attention. But part of me will always be partially submerged in it. I think ignorance to the reality that even something that isn’t itself immoral can have dire consequences on the actor goes unrecognized sometimes.

If someone called me a girlboss after my abortion, knowing the circumstances that gave rise to it, or not even bothering to address them, I would’ve blown my fucking brains out.

[sturnthorniolo]

Part 1

Content warning: suggestive

Both Chris and reader are of age in this fan-fic, you have always been a Matt girl but will that change after an interaction alone with Chris?

Divider and banner made by @vxnitra🖤

During the meet and greet Chris barely pays anyone any attention, in general he seems in a pretty bad mood slouching on the leather couch with his arms crossed. Half way through the meet and greet you excuse yourself to the bathroom stepping out into the corridor alone. As you were about to enter the bathroom you feel a hand grip around your arm, you turn and see Chris…..

He stood there in an oversized black hoodie and baggy jeans concealing his toned physique that i’d seen online multiple times, his face cold and brow furrowed. I was like a deer in the headlights at his gesture, did I do something wrong? I thought to myself, I knew I hadn’t but I couldn’t help but act suspicious like when you went through customs at the airport.

I go to open my mouth but I was unable to find the words, my eyes going from his face to his hand on me. “Where do you think you’re going?” Chris hissed.

The look on his face sent a shiver down my spine, his piercing blue eyes glaring so hard into mine like they were burning into my soul. I stutter “ to.. uh… to the bathroom”. My palms started to sweat from his intimidating presence.

He takes a step closer his hand still gripped around my upper arm. He says lowly “I want to show you something but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone”.

As he spoke his warm breath fanned against my skin making me tingle. The look on his face showed it was more of a command rather than a request, his expression never faltering.

I nod letting him lead me down the brightly lit corridor. My heart raced a million miles an hour, my eyes darting around wondering where he was taking me passing rows of identical doors, My legs trying to keep up with his speed as he tugged me along.

“Keep up we don’t have long before people start wondering where I am” Chris grumbled. The way Chris was acting was so out of character the usual goofy guy was now so stern and dominant, a part of me was nervous but then again I couldn’t help but feel somewhat aroused.

I was definitely curious about what Chris wanted to show me especially since he’s been uninterested the whole meet and greet to even acknowledge anyone let alone drag a fan to god knows where.

A few dirty thoughts crept through my head but I pushed them aside thinking that probably wasn’t the case, id be silly to think that right?.

We continue making our way through the winding corridors until we came across what looked like a supply closet, he opens the door and gently pushes me in following right behind.

The door slams shut behind us making me jump at the sound booming through the room. He flicks on the switch bathing the room in a warm light.

The room was quite spacious filled with boxes of lighting equipment, some stacks of chairs and a table situated in the middle of the room. Chris brushes past me taking a seat on the edge of the table, his scent lingered a mix of musk and pine filling my nose intoxicating me, mmmm he smelt so good.

Chris takes off his hoodie discarding it onto a chair revealing a black vest underneath and a silver chain around his neck. I was mesmerised by how he looked his hair messy, his chest puffing out as he leaned back on his arms behind him arching his back, the way his vest had lifted from him removing his hoodie showing a distinct v line.

I licked my lips feeling my cheeks burn taking in the view of him sitting there, my mind wanting to run wild but that’s not why we were here, I shake my head pushing all my thoughts aside and clear my throat “soo…. What was it you wanted to show me?” I ask awkwardly fiddling with the drawstrings on my shorts.

“Come closer” he beckoned in a husky voice using his slender finger to signal me in between his thighs. I slowly walk over leaving a few inches between us, his eyes scanning up and down my body subtly nibbling on his bottom lip. He brings one of his hands up and gently pulls on the bottom of my blue t-shirt causing me to come closer to him.

His eyes land on my face “I take it you’re a Matt girl” he pauses briefly and repositions himself so he’s sitting up straight, he begins to rub the bottom of my shirt between his fingers “Its only an observation, after all you are wearing his colour and you’ve been gawking at him the whole time” he says, his hand slowly moving under the fabric of my shirt sliding along my soft stomach to my hip, his rough thumb slowly running small circles against it. His actions caused my breath to hitch in my throat and a small tremble to run through me feeling his cold hand against my hot skin.

“Yes I’m…I’m a Matt girl” I reply through a shaky breath, but in that moment was I being truthful? Seeing Chris there with half lidded eyes and his lips parted I started to feel conflicted. The thought of Matt started to drift away and Chris began to cloud my mind.

For a moment it was silent, all that could be heard was our heavy breaths as we stared at each other. Chris slowly moves off the table the hand on my hip tightening into a grip, he presses his body against mine letting out a little huff as his cock started hardening against me. It was like it was about to burst at the seams begging to be released from his jeans.

He puts his lips to my ear “are you sure about that because your mouth says so but your body says different” He whispers his lips brushing against my lobe making me ache for him. He pulls away from my ear bringing his face in front of mine, with his free hand he holds my chin running his thumb slowly along my bottom lip, he leans in so close his nose rests next to mine. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips “Let me show you whose girl you really are”.

My knees became weak, I could feel the wetness forming in my underwear, my body screaming for his touch. “Chris” I whimper placing my hands on his chest creating a slight distance between us, I tried to hold back every fibre of my being not to rip his clothes off, to dig my nails into his chest so I could hear him moan in my ear, to get on my knees and satisfy every need and desire of his. “Hmm you sound so cute when you whimper my name, I haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already falling apart” he teased, a smirk forming on his face.

I bit my lip trying to conceal an involuntary moan taking in a sharp breath, he knew how to wrap women around his finger clearly and I was falling right into it. I hated that he knew all the right buttons to press but I love how needy he was making me I was basically clinging onto him desperately but I tried to stay strong. He gently strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers, my eyes fluttering closed letting the sensation flow all over my body.

“All I need is a yes and I promise you’ll be a pretty little mess when I’m done with you, so what do you say?”.

Part: 1 | 2

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 1

“For good service and cute waitresses”

pairing: pre military!jk x fuckbuddy!oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, very mild angst.

wc: 1.96k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

A/N: inspired by the iconic 97liner pics. Hi guys, this is my first id say, proper? fanfiction, im planning on making this a pretty long series ! also im posting smth i actually like, shocker! ive had secret fuck buddy oc x military!jk on my mind for so long and im so happy ive finished the part i’ve had in my notes for a hot minute! lmk what u think :> i also couldnt wait for the poll to finish before posting this haha, anyways enjoy and tysm 4 reading

masterlist | <previous | next>

The diner is quiet tonight. Though speaking too soon may grant you with a consequence, considering its only 6pm on a Thursday. You glance at the clock realising you have a long night ahead, and complaining will utterly make everything 10x worse. What’s worse is Nari is late to her shift like usual, and your boss’ constant singing in the prep room is sure to drive you insane sooner or later. He’s still humming as your scrubbing down the bar counter- its not like it needs it, you just aren’t in the mood to be scolded by a chunky, 40 year old man.

You don’t even realise you’re scrubbing the table even more vigorously when a combination of your phone ringing in your trouser pocket and a squeal of costumers sitting by the hibachi grill completely catches you off guard. It’s Hibachi night, and your day seriously couldn’t get any worser. You’re rolling your eyes at the family of three who barely pay attention to the chef cooking in front of them, with all of their phones plastered to their faces, and when they’re finally placed down to take the plate out of the chef’s hands and your sure you dont see a gesture of thanks, your grabbing your phone, walking to the bathroom and calling Nari.

“Nari! Where the fuck are you? Its Hibachi night, you can’t leave me here alone on Hibachi night!” You’re drawing imaginary patterns on the stall wall with your fingers, shuffling your knees under your chin whilst sitting on the closed toilet seat. Nari’s quick to apologise and tell you shes on the way, and you tell her goodbye before fixing your hair in the mirror and going back outside.

You know you’re in for a long night when a group of people enter the restaurant, your boss greeting them with his signature, annoying high voice, and you’re just glad you’ll have someone to share the misery with when Nari gets here.

“Y/n! Go and serve table 3, and put a smile on your face, they’re quite the group!” You’re pushing yourself off of the bar stool, quickly taking menus and sending your boss a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The oblivious man dosent seem to notice.

Dragging yourself to Table 3, the group of men are already seated, seemingly finding something hilarious though when you step into their view, it seems to die down. You’re flashing them a smile, quickly bowing before noticing that all of them are seriously attractive.

You notice the one sitting alone first, in the best way possible, his face is sweet. He has a smile which makes his eyes turn into thin crescents on his face and you cant help but smile back at him. He’s wearing a beanie, and his face is so perfect it’s hard to keep composure. The two sitting in front catch your eyes next, one with the most beautiful tanned skin, effortlessly masculine face which makes you wonder if he’d been specially sculpted and put on the earth to kill with his looks shoots you a smile. Finally, the last one, he’s wearing a bucket hat hiding some of his face, and he’s fiddling with his lip ring. He looks the youngest out of the lot, big doe eyes peeking through his hat and, he seems to be…looking at you far more intensely than the other two seem to be. His sleeve is slightly rolled up and you cant help but stare a second too long at the most beautiful sleeve of art adorning his muscular ar-

Seriously Y/n! Get it together, be professional!

You clear your throat when he smirks at you noticing your shameless gawking placing the menus in front of them “Hello, i’ll be serving you tonight, i’m y/n, can i get you started on any drinks?”

The guy in the beanie is first to talk, voice light when he asks for a beer. His grin widens when you look at him, and it’s easy to see why people would gravitate to him like yourself. He just has that charm.

Your heart beats a little faster when the one next to him interrupts the silence of you taking his order down, asking for two beers rather than one, his gaze is equally intimidating as it is intriguing, and you’re trying so hard to keep it professional right now, “Alright, and you?”

“Water’s fine for me, thank you.” You take the orders down quickly, sure that if you stood there any longer your heart would pound out of your chest. Where the fuck is Nari?

You turn to head toward the bar to grab their drinks, and you hear the faintest chuckle from the table. “Hey, don’t you need to see my ID first?” The voice belongs to the guy in the bucket hat—the one with the doe eyes and that unreadable expression. You freeze for a second, unsure of whether he’s joking or not. You glance back at him, and he’s staring at you, lips curling into a playful smirk.

You blink, trying to keep it professional. “Uh, do i?”

He leans forward, still fiddling with his lip ring, his eyes twinkling. “I look too young for that beer, right? You know, like one of those guys who gets ID’d for everything.”

His tone is light, teasing, and for a second, you almost think he’s serious. But then his friends start laughing quietly, and you realize—he’s just messing with you. You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips anyway. “Uh-huh. Right, sure. Let me grab your ID then, Mr. Underage.”

The others crack up even harder at that, and he just shrugs, chuckling under his breath. “I swear, I get carded everywhere. It’s kinda embarrassing, but hey, at least I look young.” You smile and roll your eyes, walking away to get their drinks, but now, you’re trying not to laugh too hard at the mental image of him getting carded at the grocery store or a random café. But it’s no surprise to you, in fact his young face has you seriously considering if he was actually underage. Oh well.

When you come back, with drinks, you take down their orders for food, their effortless small talk and flirting has you feeling like they aren’t in no rush for you to leave them alone, but you remember that you’re at work, and go back to scrubbing the bar counters, but you cant help but glance down at their table every now and then.

By the time you bring out their food, the conversation around the table has picked up again, the atmosphere light and easy. You can’t help but notice the way they’re all leaning into each other, laughing over something you missed. When you set the plates down, you quickly glance around to make sure nothing’s out of place, and that’s when you spot Nari walking in. She’s just clocked in, looking hurried, but you can’t help the relieved sigh that escapes your lips.

You barely have time to throw the boys a quick wave before you head back to the bar, feeling the weight of their gazes follow you for just a second longer than you’d like. Rushing over to Nari, she’s changing into her work clothes before giving you a smile and opening her arms for a hug. “Long day already?” You groan, moving back after hugging her and fixing her hair which has moved in front of her face.

“It’s Hibachi night. Also theres a group of some serious fine men, look ove-“ Your eyebrows furrow when she follows your finger and gasps so loud you wince. “Shh! I know! But be quiet, they might catch us..”

The look on her face tells you she’s indeed not surprised about the way they look and rather “That’s the Jeon Jungkook, oh and is that- Kim Mingyu? CHA EUNWOO?!”

You blink. Then blink again. “Who?”

Nari turns to you so fast you think she might give herself whiplash. “Who?! Are you serious? Are you actually joking right now?”

You shrug, confused. “They just look like really hot guys to me… wait? You know them? Shit did you guys like-“ You make a hand motion which you hope she takes as ‘do a thing’.

She looks like she might actually pass out. “WHAT—?! Oh my god, I can’t do this right now.” Nari presses a hand to her chest like she’s physically offended by your assumption. “Do a thing?! Are you insane?”

You raise a brow. “Okay, so you didn’t. Then what’s the big deal?” She’s pulling out her phone, typing something into google.

She looks like she might actually strangle you. “Y/n, they’re famous.”

You stare at her blankly. “And? We get a shitload of famous people here, whats the big deal?”

Nari makes a strangled noise. “And?! And?! You’re telling me you don’t recognize Jeon Jungkook—of BTS?! Or Mingyu from Seventeen?! Or Cha Eunwoo, literal actor, singer, face genius?!”

You cross your arms, unimpressed. “I mean yeah, I guess i recognise it a bit but- Nari, you do realize I don’t live on the internet like you, right?”

She groans, dragging a hand down her face. “This is actually so embarrassing. You served them like they were just—regular people.”

You blink at her. “I mean, they are regular people?”

She exhales sharply, shaking her head. “No. No, they are not.”

You snort, glancing back to the table in question, The boys are still eating, but Jungkook’s eyes are quick to meet yours and you swear you see the corner of his lips quirk up like he knows exactly what your talking about. You will yourself to look away, and you see Nari sneaking pictures under the bar counter. “Well I guess it’s too late, I already treated them like normal guys, and they didn’t seem to mind.”

Nari doesn’t let up. “Okay, okay—since you’re so professional, why don’t you go check on their table? You are their server, after all.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re up to something.”

“Me? Never.” She puts a hand to her chest like she’s offended. “I just think it’s good service to make sure everything’s okay.”

You groan. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still walking over.”

You mutter a few curses under your breath but do as she says, smoothing your hands over your apron as you approach the table again. They’re mid-conversation, laughing about something, but the second you arrive, Jungkook’s gaze flicks to you immediately. Great. Composure, y/n!

You take a deep breath before walking up, trying not to feel Nari’s eyes drilling into the back of your head. You’re just checking in. That’s it.

When you reach them, their conversation slows, and Jungkook glances up first, his dark eyes flickering to yours almost immediately.

“Hey, uh,” you clear your throat, gripping your notepad even though you don’t need it. “Just checking in. Everything good over here?”

Mingyu nods, smiling as he pushes his plate forward slightly. “Yeah, everything’s great. Thanks.”

Eunwoo hums in agreement, giving you a polite smile.

Jungkook, though—he doesn’t answer right away. He’s still looking at you, his fingers tapping lightly against his glass. You shift on your feet, suddenly aware of how intense his gaze is.

“It’s good,” he finally says, voice smooth but casual. “Didn’t expect to have someone checking on me so much, though.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “Huh?”

His lips quirk up just a little. “You’ve been around a lot. Just saying.”

You blink. “That’s-… literally my job.”

Mingyu huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

Jungkook exhales through his nose, barely a smile, but it’s there. “Fair enough.” He looks down at his plate, nudging a piece of food with his chopsticks before glancing up at you again. “But I don’t mind.”

Your breath catches for just a second before you snap out of it, nodding stiffly. “Right. Well. Let me know if you guys need anything.”

You spin on your heel before he can say anything else, making your way back to the bar—only to find Nari grinning at you.

“So?” she sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, pretending you don’t feel the warmth still lingering in your face. “Shut up.”

—

As the night winds down, the table of ridiculously attractive men finally finishes their meals, and you’re just about to go over when Nari beats you to it, balancing the empty plates with practiced ease. She throws you a look—one that’s way too smug for your liking—as she walks past.

You roll your eyes, pretending not to care, but you can’t help glancing over. They’re still chatting, laughing among themselves, but one of them—Jungkook—stands up, stretching a little before making his way toward the bar.

Toward you.

You pretend to be busy, wiping down an already-clean spot on the counter, but you can feel him approaching before he even says anything.

“Hey,” his voice is smooth, casual, but there’s a slight rasp to it. “Just wanted to leave a tip.”

He slides a bill toward you, and when you glance down, you realize it’s…a lot. Way more than necessary. Your eyes flicker back to him, skeptical. “This is kind of excessive, don’t you think?”

Jungkook shrugs, resting his arms against the counter, tattoos peeking out beneath his sleeve. “Service was good.”

You huff a small laugh, shaking your head. “You barely let me serve you. Nari took your plates.”

“Still counts, doesn’t it?” He tilts his head slightly, studying you in that way that makes your stomach feel weirdly unsettled. Not in a bad way—just aware.

You narrow your eyes at him, playful. “You do this everywhere you go?”

“What? Tip?”

“No.” You lean a little closer. “Flirt.”

Jungkook grins, running his tongue over his lip ring before speaking. “Only when the waitress is cute.”

Oh.

You open your mouth to respond—to throw back something equally teasing—but before you can, Mingyu calls his name from the entrance, signaling that they’re leaving. Jungkook glances over his shoulder, then back at you, his grin softening just a little.

“See you around?” he says, and you’re not even sure if it’s a question or a statement.

You don’t answer immediately, just biting back a smile as you watch him walk away. And when you finally glance down at the tip he left, there’s a note scribbled onto the bill:

“For good service. And cute waitresses.”

Maybe work wasn’t so bad tonight.

[ameliora-j]

‧₊˚ piercer!ron weasley x reader ‧₊˚

so anyway this has been on my mind since i got my nipples pierced specifically bc of the way i was moaning like a lil bitch in the piercer’s chair 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

content → piercer!ron, needles, nipple play, voyeurism, slight pain kink, praise, nipple piercings, blood mention, lightheadedness, 18+ BLOG MDNI

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡

you’re anxious as you walk into the shop, but you know you have to do this. it’s been years upon years since you’ve wanted this specific piercing—ever since you turned eighteen to be exact. you called on one of your breaks at work, asking if the tattoo shop did nipple piercings.

the kind lady connected you with the shop’s piercer—who to your surprise was a man with an english accent. after telling you the price, he asks specifically for cash. when you see the exact cash amount in your wallet, you figure it’s a sign. anytime that you plan in advance for any kind of piercing or tattoo, you lose the confidence of going nearly the day of—so it’s now or never.

when you walk in, a girl with bright pink hair looks around to see if anyone was available for a walk in. most of them were half asleep, and you feel bad for waking them up from their naps—but they don’t seem to mind. you’re surprised that they aren’t busy on a saturday evening, but a brunette man with round glasses stands and stumbled to the desk, ready to ask what tattoo you have in mind.

“um… hi… i called earlier um a-about… about nipple piercings” you stammer shyly, unable to hide the blush growing on your cheeks.

he wasn’t overly muscular or large, his small amount of tummy pudge peeking out as he stretched his arms high above his head, revealing more ink lining his torso.

“oh!” the man nods as he turns around and walks towards the back. “ron! piercing” you hear a soft grumble and a deep sigh—not of annoyance, but from just waking up. a tall redheaded man with broad shoulders appears. he has sleeves of tattoos lining his arms and some small tattoos on his hands. there was a small stud piercing beneath his eye, a few tattoos on his face as well.

you feel as though your breath is knocked out of your chest as he smiles at you, a small whine leaving his lips as he finishes his deep stretch. “sorry, i just woke up” he chuckles.

“oh no, don’t worry… i’m surprised you guys aren’t more busy tonight” you say, and he nods in agreement as he grabs the papers.

“i know, i was thinking the same thing” he chuckles, grabbing a pen. “i just need you to initial and sign this paper and then i need your id” he tells you, handing the paper and pen over to him. you nod softly and do as he says, passing over your id and scanning over the paper, initialing each line.

it isn’t long before you’re done and he comes back up to the front, leading you to his small section of the tattoo shop. “go ahead and sit right there” he nods, pointing to the tattoo chair as he looks over his tool tray and all that he has. you sit down in the chair, making yourself comfortable as you take your bag off and adjust yourself.

you learn quickly that ron isn’t much of a talker, but thankfully neither are you. he already has his tray set up, asking you a few quick questions as he moves everything over towards you. “so… obviously i don’t have a privacy curtain, i’m sorry about that” he blushes a bit as he finishes washing his hands. “If you just… bare with me a bit” he chuckles nervously.

he looks around his small station, noting that it’s basically out in the open. he’s a sweet man, you learn quickly, so you smile at him. “that’s alright” you reassure him. you wiggle a bit in the seat, still slightly anxious. “i’ll be fine” you nod, more so assuring yourself than him this time.

“go ‘head and take off your shirt, and then if you can just pull down your bra for me” he nods, turning around towards his desk and getting a little care package ready for when you go—wanting to give you at least some semblance of privacy while undressing.

when he turns back around, his cheeks tint pink as he looks first at your boobs then up at you. “you can just turn and face this way” he nods as he rolls over in the small circle chair. you do as he says and face him just as he turns to his tool tray. though he doesn’t have a privacy curtain, he uses his large body and broad shoulders to cover your breasts from the other piercers and the large windows—there were no other patrons in the shop besides you, so this made you feel incredibly at ease. “have you had your nipples pierced before?” he asks.

“no, never” you shake your head. he notices the tremor in your voice and gives you a little reassuring smile. he can tell you’re anxious, and he’s doing everything he can to ease your nerves. “i just have one rule for all my tattoo artists, piercers, nurses… anyone that comes near my body with a needle” you ramble a bit as you list the different occupations.

he chuckles a bit as he nods, grabbing an alcohol wipe to clean your nipples. “what is it?” he hums.

“don’t count.” you say seriously. “i don’t want 1, 2, 3 or 3, 2, 1… if you count i’ll tell you to stop and just go home” you tell him. ron laughs a bit harder, his orange curls bobbing as he nods in understanding.

“alright, i can do that” he nods. “i’m just gonna clean them, and then i’ll mark them and show you, and after that i’ll do the piercing” he informs you, and you’re nodding along with each thing he says. once you’ve gotten the nitty-gritty out of the way, you keep your head down, watching his arms and his body as he works. “do you have a preference of which one you want me to do first?” he asks.

“no” you shake your head. “just go for it” you giggle a bit, and he smiles at you. ron takes a gloved hand, starting with your left tit and gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. he flicks it a few times, his brows pinching together in focus as he plays with your nipple in order to get it hard. you don’t even notice ron has the needle in his hand until you feel it piercing through the sensitive skin.

you suck in air through your teeth, squeezing your hands into fists as you try, but fail, to bite back a whine. “breathe… breathe, it’s okay” ron whispers softly, inching a bit closer to you. “you can squeeze my shoulder if you need to… you won’t mess me up” he says softly. his movements are slow and deliberate, taking time to not mess up your piercing as he pushes the needle through to the other side.

a moan of pain tumbles past your lips once more as you squeeze his shoulder and grit your teeth. “owowowow” you whine, trying your hardest not to squirm or cringe away in pain.

“i know, i’m sorry” he murmurs softly. “you’re doing so good, we’re almost there” he whispers. just as he says that, you feel the needle poke through the other side, and you let out a sigh of relief. your relief is short lived as he pushes the jewelry through the new hole he just made in your body and another high pitched moan tumbles past your lips. “there we go…” he says softly, gently rubbing your side. “i just have to screw this in and then i’ll move on to the other side” he tells you as he grabs the ball end of the jewelry.

the second one is nowhere near as painful as the first—going in much easier as well. however, it still has you making those pretty little sounds on that are making ron’s cock harden as he wonders what other sounds he can pull from you. “that’s it” he praises gently, nearly having to physically restrain himself from placing a kiss to your delicate skin. “you did so good” he hums, beginning to clean the spilling blood.

“thank you” you smile at him as he finishes up, letting you know you can redress and beginning to clean his station. as you pull your bra back up and grab for your shirt, the room begins to spin. you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, a small smile gracing your lips as you become slightly loopy. “um… can i lay down for a minute?” you giggle softly.

“yeah of course!” he smiles as he turns to look at you. “are you lightheaded?” he asks, walking over to his mini fridge. when you only hum and nod in response, he hands you a capri sun and a pack of scooby-doo fruit snacks. “here… sugar will help” he tells you. he sits in his chair as you pop open the capri sun, now done cleaning. “eat the fruit snacks. all that sugar will help.” he tells you softly when he notices you only drinking the juice.

you nod lazily, squinting your eyes open as you make a small rip in the package. “yanno usually i’m paid to see my tits, not the other way around… and you didn’t even compliment them” you sigh, your head still spinning a bit as you smile lazily. you bite back a giggle when you imagine the blush that you definitely know is coating his cheeks.

his only response is a chuckle, and you think that’s the end of it until you’re checking out and paying him—now ready to actually stand straight and be able to drive your car. as you hand him the money, he gives you a care package, a cute sticker, aftercare instructions, ointment and alcohol wipes, a lollipop, and a blank card with his name and number. “text me a picture when you have the gauze off so i can make sure they look alright… maybe then i’ll compliment them” he winks slyly.

suddenly, you’re the one blushing as you walk out to your car.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡

[follow my library blog and turn on notifications to be notified when i post a new fic!]

[asha-mage]

WoT S3, Episode 1 Assorted Thoughts

One fun detail about the opening scene that leapt out to me on re watch is that the camera takes time to linger on all the members of Liandrin's evil girl posse as their entering the Hall. Nice subtle bit of Foreshadowing.

Shout out to that one Yellow Sister who is just loving the drama. Hope she survived and is doing amazing.

One thing that's fascinating about this moment from an adaption perspective is that in the books, none of the Wondergirls ever get a moment of confrontation with Liandrin the way Nynaeve does here- in fact it's one of the original injustices that despite their heroism and everything they've been through their punished for supposedly 'running away'- a ruse meant to protect them from suspicion that might arise if it was none they where tied to Liandrin post her Darkfriend reveal. This is a bitter pill for all of them to swallow and is part of what motivates them to join the hunt and bring down Liandrin. But here Nynaeve gets that moment of confrontation- a chance to stand and accuse Liandrin in the Hall itself, lay bare her crimes for all to see. And it doesn't play out at all like Nynaeve or anyone else probably imagined it would- because of course it doesn't. The world is more complicated then that, and their are precious few moments of true triumphant justice to be had. I think it's a credit to the show's writers that it feels like it fits in the kind themeatic schema Jordan used.

God the effects and the combat in this scene just rule so HARD.

The way Tsutama just fucking WASTES Jeanie's warders is so hardcore

As an aside man Maksim's 'Thank the light! Jeaine! Chesmal!' is so freaking heartbreaking, because it's not like these are random sisters- their ones Ihvon and Maskim (and likely Alanna) know and probably like. Same with Nyomi's cold blooded 'I don't have to listen to your bullshit anymore' next scene. It really drives home the horror of the Black Ajah.

What if a friend you've known, maybe for decades or even centuries, was secretly working to kill you and destroy everything you believe in- you have inside jokes and a working rapport and yet they have committed their entire soul to destroying everything you hold dear, and would kill you in a heartbeat. God it's so awful and it rules.

I really hope we get more of Ispan. Her actress is so pretty and goes so hard despite not having any diaolge.

The cut in half Amyrlin seat framing Siuan as she and the others rush to cut off Liandrin's Evil Girl Posse is so *chef kiss* in terms of Foreshadowing.

It's so on brand for Alanna that she's ready to take on Liandrin's entire evil girl posse in front of the gates of Tar Valon with nothing but her Warders for backup.

Alright new content time, let's goooooo!

Holy FUCK Alanna you GO. Also bye two sisters I couldn't place in my id round up!

Bye Ivohn! Knew that was coming but still, you ruled. RIP a real one.

God Moiraine and Siuan in this scene are just so augahuaghuaga!

Woof that's a lot of dead Warders.

I really love the stone dust and debris on Nynaeve here, it really sells the raw carnage and destruction.

Two things- I really love that the show gives time to the Two Rivers folks as just a unit, and I also love Moiraine taking this moment to highlight one of the always present tensions in the books: who knows what, and who is telling who what. People like to boil down a lot of the conflict in WoT to 'miscommunication' but the truth is Jordan was fascinated by how people trust, and how they communicate and the things that poison that well. Glad to see the show picking up that theme.

Man if it aint peak Wonderboys behavior to UTTERLY and immediately ignore Moiraine's advice, at Mat's urging no less.

I am really glad their ruminating on the fact that killing Renna didn't make everything right with Egwene- it doesn't undo her trauma or lessen the burden of what she went through. However a triumphant it felt in the moment, violence can't heal or build, and that really is just a straight up central theme in WoT.

God. Mat's random bouts of the Old Tongue really are just incredibly unsettling aren't they?

SNAKES AND FOXES

Lanfear and Moiraine's scene is so so good. Exactly the kind of 4d mind chess I adore about this series.

Siuan is in such an interesting position right now contrasted with where she is in the books at this point- especially in her relationship with Egwene. In the books Siuan has all the leverage because it's not yet a question of if the Wondergirls want to be Aes Sedai or not. Moiraine has essentially passed custody of this trio to her, and the power dynamic is very clear. But with Siuan and Moiraine divided, and the Wondergirls very clearly in Moiraine's camp, she has far less leverage. She can't force Nynaeve and Egwene where she wants them. It's a good bit of set up for the later nuances of Egwene and Siuan's relationship.

Elayne is REALLY popping off in these back to back scenes.

I have to admit to a bit of disappointment at the arches being so truncated, but it's the same problem with Nynaeve's trip last season: to fully adapt these chapters you'd need devote a whole episode to them each a piece. And that just isn't feasible.

DELICIOUS Moiraine and Rand power struggle scene followed IMMEDIATELY by a Siuan and Egwene power struggle scene. So many kids disrespecting their mentors.

Everyone conituning to make progress Rizzing up Rand's LIs except for Rand, meanwhile Mat is playing knife based kissing games. They must both think Perrin knows what he's doing, and yet I know that Faile is on her way.

All of which is to say- the loser Wonderboy energy is entirely on point.

I love the mirror with Egwene and Rand's scene here about the arches, to their season 1 scene about the Women's Circle test.

Nynaveve and Mat's scene is so good.

BUBBLE OF EVIL SCENE AW YEAH

OHOHOHOHOH the symbolism of the axe destroying the ring, the cards being heroes of the horn! Not to mention all the deliberate juxtaposition of sex and violence.

Moiraine and Lan deliberately letting the situation get Worse before they help in order to push their point.

All the parting of ways are so gooooooood! Also can't wait for Faile to get her girl gang.

Nynaeve and Lan just killing it in every scene their in.

Moghedian freak behavior continues I love it. Also hi Jaichim! Wasn't expecting to see you! Believe it or not this probably a better fate then you got in canon, so rejoice!

[x23innocencelost]

Intersexuality and Transgenderism in Beast Wars (1996-1999)

(ID in alt text)

Okay, so like a week ago I said I would make a post explaining why I think Blackarachnia and Silverbolt are both intersex and transgender, and I’m a bit late but there is that post! 

CONTENT WARNINGS: Discussion of medical intersexism, the medical and medical-sexual abuse faced by intersex and transgender people including IGM, the H slur was used as an example of offensive language to avoid. Discussion of sexual violence and objectification, especially as pertaining to transgender women. Discussion of transphobia, misogyny, and transmisogyny. Discussion of canonical suicide attempt and attempted sexual assault.

Introduction

“Intersex” this refers to people with sex characteristics outside of male/female binary sex. This could be anything from ambiguous or “non-standard” genitalia (external or internal), increased or decreased levels sex hormones compared to “standard” (it should also be said that what is considered standard is frequently what is standard for white people), more or less than 2 chromosomes; chromosomes that do not conform with presented sex, and a whole bunch of other things. What exactly qualifies someone as intersex is debated, because what exactly qualifies as falling outside of strict categories of “male” and “female” is contested. If intersex people are more commonly understood and concretely recognized to exist, this challenges the binary sexgender hierarchy, and undermining the sexgender hierarchy undermines the patriarchy.

Regardless, intersex people are not “biologically nonbinary” or “biologically transgender” or anything like that. Certainly there are transgender intersex people, and for some of these people their relationship with gender is directly tied with being intersex (and the same for some cisgender intersex people), but the intersex umbrella encompases millions of people with unique lives and perspectives and it is wrong to make sweeping statements about identity and experience like that. Furthermore saying gender identity is directly linked to sex is, as always, deeply bioessentialist and in this case intersexist.

I will not be speaking about where exactly Blackarachnia and Silverbolt fall under the intersex umbrella, both due to my own lack of knowledge and because they are bio-mechanical aliens who are a spider and a wolf & eagle, respectively. I do not think either of them have a specific real-world condition that effects humans and even if they did that is not something I am knowledgeable enough about to speak about.

Additionally, while I will be discussing and interpreting them as visibly intersex characters, it is important to remember that not every intersex person is visibly intersex, and you cannot tell if someone is intersex just by looking at them. You should not, ever, try to ‘prove’ that a real person is intersex, as that is an incredible invasion of privacy and just like… gross? 

From this point forward I will be expecting a basic familiarity with what it means to be intersex, so that means some terms and concepts might be glossed over. If there is anything that is confusing or needs clarification I will do my best to provide this, but I will not be engaging with anyone that fails to meet a bare minimum of respect for intersex people. For the record: “hermaphrodite” is a slur. Using this term or any term derived from it will result in an auto-block regardless of what you are otherwise saying.

Finally, I am myself perisex (ie, not intersex) and not in a position to speak for the intersex community or experience. While I am not the sole developer of this interpretation, this post and my words are my own and if I have inadvertently said something offensive or misinformed, please let me know so that I can take the necessary steps to fix that.

Acknowledgments

This post would not be possible without @maverickflare and @they-hermes who contributed to this reading (maverickflare also proofread), @redlanternz for being my lesbian spider pervert, and @htmlerror who helped me with the above section. Also thank you to @roguesrevenge , who didn’t do anything other than be intersex and incredibly enthusiastic :) . Love you all. @nielsthecat was also here. Also they wrote the ID for the meme, I guess.

Part 1: Blackarachnia

(ID in alt text)

We start with Blackarachnia, because she is the character that appears first and subsequently, the character that this whole read is based around.

First and most obviously, Blackarachnia’s black widow form just straight up is intersex. She has the red hourglass, bulbous body, elongated legs, and longer pedipalps without ‘boxing gloves’, which are classed as “female” sex characteristics in black widow spiders. However, she also has features that are classed as “male” sex characteristics in black widows, namely the coloration on the legs, small fangs, and small venom sacs. This makes her intersex, full stop.

However, this is just the beginning. Blackarachnia’s story is also that of an intersex woman. She is the only character in the entire show whose beastmode is chosen for her by someone else. Additionally, Tarantulas picked the black widow because he found it to be, well, attractive. There is also the way that Blackarachnia’s creation as a Predacon is discussed: as something that Tarantulas did to her. 

These are both reminiscent of intersex/infant genital mutilation (IGM), where visibly intersex infants are subject to “corrective” surgeries so that their genitalia more closely aligns with sex binarist ideas about what genitalia “should” look like. This can extend to procedures in childhood performed with the goal of making the child a more pleasing sexual partner as an adult. It should not need to be said that this is a gross human rights violation.

More than this, Blackarachnia’s status as a woman is something that is questioned, most notably by Rattrap. He says that she’s “about as female as a piston,”, and when she remarks on her own attractiveness, he derides her by saying he’s “seen better circuits than [hers] on maintenance bots”. This obviously ties into the intersex reading, as intersex women are frequently denied access to womanhood and told they are performing femininity incorrectly, but it also ties into the transgender reading, because transgender women face the same treatment. The fact that these readings bleed into one another is appropriate, of course, because Blackarachnia’s intersexuality and transgenderism are, for her, linked.

This is further exemplified by the control exerted over her life by men, particularly Tarantulas. Not only did he choose her beastmode for her, not only was he involved in making her as a Predacon, he also installed a failsafe so that removing the Predacon shell would kill her. Later on, Optimus Primal and Rhinox, not knowing this, discuss potentially removing the Predacon shell– without Blackarachnia being in the room. This is played as an innocent misunderstanding– of course Blackarachnia would be given ultimate say over removing the Predacon shell!– but it is still a gross overstep. This is also, again, reminiscent of the medical abuse faced by intersex and transgender people, who are frequently lied to and misinformed about the medical procedures being done to them, if they are told anything at all.

The above of course does not even touch on the most notable time that Tarantulas strips Blackarachnia of her autonomy– when he possesses her. Even once the true possession is ended (a situation Blackarachnia hated so much she said she would rather die than let it continue), he retains a psychic connection to her, forcing her to act in his interests and as an extension of himself, and causing her immense pain if she attempts to disobey him. This is combined with the fact that Tarantulas’s initial problem with Blackarachnia seems to be that she is an autonomous person who doesn’t want to fuck him.

This comes to a head in episode 2.04, where Blackarachnia starts up a minor flirtation with Quickstrike (albeit under false pretenses). Even this minor assertation of her own personhood infuriates Tarantulas, who is quick to remind her of their link and the fact that he has complete control over her and her life. Blackarachnia gets more and more frustrated with this state of affairs that eventually she decides that she would literally kill herself if it meant she would be free of Tarantulas. Tarantulas directly states that he does not not care if she commits suicide, and only intervenes when he realizes that her dying will also kill him, at which point he severs the psychic link. His immediate next action is to try to kill her.

Furthermore, many characters feel entitled to Blackarachnia’s body in a very particular way. Tarantulas, Quickstrike, and to a lesser extent Cheetor feel entitled to her body as a sex object, with Quickstrike additionally trying to assault her on-screen. Megatron, somewhat uniquely, feels entitled to her body as a receptacle for violence. 

Blackarachnia is treated with scorn by the Predacons because they view her as a sex object who is making herself unavailable to them. With the Maximals, Blackarachnia continues to be treated as a sex object, but one that “belongs” to Silverbolt. Cheetor, after becoming infatuated with her, occasionally defends her to the likes of Rattrap– but he has no qualms about joining in on the abuse out of earshot after a particularly direct put-down from her. She has the additional burden of being viewed as deviant for fulfilling the “wrong” role in her relationship (in this case as the sexually dominant partner).

In all cases this brings to mind the third-sexing of transgender women: women when sexually available or appealing, punching bag when not.

Furthermore, Blackarachnia always seeks to maintain her identity, not as a Predacon but as herself– Blackarachnia, the “bad girl”. This is her true objection to becoming a Maximal, the fear that she will lose herself. Even after removing the Predacon shell becomes a life-saving necessity, her description of the consequences of not doing so isn’t “I’ll die”: it’s “[I’ll] drool oil for the rest of my life”. This is a woman for whom her identity as herself is more important than her own life, as also evidenced by her reaction to Tarantulas possessing her.

Concurrent with that and through most of S3, we see Blackarachnia working on developing the materials to give herself a Transmetal 2 body upgrade. In other words, she is trying to medically transition. She is finally able to achieve this after the Predacon shell is removed. While initially fearing that removing the shell and thus becoming a Maximal would fundamentally change her in some way, after receiving the upgrade she soon declares that,  “Even when I’m good, I’m bad,” showing that she is still herself and no major change has taken place.

I think that Blackarachnia is best understood as a transgender intersex woman who was subjected to IGM to be coercively assigned as male as a child, who socially transitioned while with the Predacons but was denied the resources/ability to pursue medical transition. Once with the Maximals, she both distrusted them due to her past experiences with medical abuse and feared they would not allow her to medically transition (again due to her past experiences), leading her to pursue a risky DIY transition.

Part 2: Silverbolt

(ID in alt text)

(Note: I have chosen to refer to Transmutate with she/her pronouns because she was referred to as such in production, and I believe that referring to her as “it” is a symptom of the dehumanization and degendering of disabled people)

Silverbolt and the other Fuzors are, by the non-Fuzors, considered to be “mismatched” and “weird” (this is the language used in the show), which mirrors some of how intersex people are discussed in real life. 

Additionally, when Silverbolt is defending Transmutate to the other Maximals, he asks, “Are we Predacons now? Do we destroy whatever does not fit our definition of perfection?” The way that he is immediately able to empathize with her for having been born “weird”, “ugly”, and “imperfect” points to him feeling that they are in this way similar. His belief in the preservation of autonomy, especially for those deemed in some way other, is based on his own experience with having been denied that.

Then there is the matter of Tigerhawk. There is a long tradition in sci-fi of people with intersex features (who are sometimes, but not always, acknowledged as actually being intersex) only appearing through the merging of a man and a woman through fantastical means. Tigerhawk, while not being part of this tradition, is reminiscent of it, being formed out of the merging of Airazor and Tigatron. This is, indeed, the explanation for him being a Fuzor. He is also the character that most resembles Silverbolt. This, again, points to Silverbolt being intersex.

We also revisit the idea of reprogramming the protoforms to be Predacons as analogous to coercive sex assignment/IGM, with the addition that this time, Megatron edits Silverbolt and Quickstrike’s activation codes to the Predacon activation and tells them that they were always Predacons. This is reminiscent of the many intersex people who are subject to IGM or other “corrective” procedures who are never told what is happening, or that they are intersex. 

Silverbolt does not feel that he ‘fits’ as a Predacon, and repeatedly voices discomfort with being asked to act as a Predacon. He is beaten multiple times for failing to live up to Predacon standards, and, eventually, he defects to the Maximals. This, too, is a transition.

Whereas Blackarachnia was always aware of her being intersex and the medical abuse she was subject to, this is something that Silverbolt had to find out for himself as he got older, eventually leaving the Predacons concurrent with starting his transition journey.

Part 3: Closing Notes

Obviously some of what was discussed above can also be applied to Inferno and Quickstrike to read them as intersex as well, but unlike Blackarachnia and Silverbolt I do not think this massively impacts their characters. I am not otherwise discussing them here because they are not the scope of this essay.

The fact that Silverbolt most consistently supports Blackarachnia and her choices, and respects her position on the team before she officially becomes a Maximal, speaks deeply to the fact that he actually, well, respects her. Blackarachnia allows Silverbolt to joke about “making a Maximal” of her when no other character would be or has been allowed to speak to/about her like that, which says that she understands he is, in some way, saying something different than any other character when they call her a Maximal. To be clear, in that moment I think Silverbolt is giving her the opportunity to assert and affirm herself as the “bad girl”. 

I think that reading Blackarachnia and Silverbolt as intersex and transgender dramatically recontextualizes their relationship as two people who have undergone some of the same abuse in life and can find recognition and respect in each other because of their shared experiences. 

Thank you again to everybody that helped me with this and told me they were excited for this, and if you read this far I love you and happy Pride!

[psychic-refugee]

Wenclair as a ship in itself I understand. It can be fun, and interpretation is up to the fan content creator. Wyler, Wenvier, Enjax, Wenclay and AroAce Wednesday I think are all equally valid interpretations. Just as any other combination.

Shipping non canon relationships is a choice made by personal preference.

I less understand the expectations of Wenclair being actually possible to become canon. I feel like it’s only possible in the sense that “anything is possible” because no one can ever truly predict the future.

However,

Tim Burton does not have a history of producing LGBTQ+ focused projects. There are barely any background characters that are prominently and explicitly queer in his long CV.

The Ottingers are outliers and background characters with a second of screentime. I have doubts we’ll ever see them again, and honestly, they are the farthest I think Burton is willing to go.

Millar also doesn’t have a history of writing main cast LGBTQ+. He and Gough only reference the relationship between Enid and Wednesday as “friendship” and “sisterhood” when confronted with the idea of Wenclair. (NME, 24 Dec 2023).

Netflix has a documented poor history of treatment of shows with prominent lesbian leads (First Kill, I Am Not OK With This, and Warrior Nun).

Given all of that, I’m also not in the writers’ room, so time will ultimately tell if my skepticism is warranted.

Nonetheless, there is overwhelming evidence that Wenclairs have detrimentally affected Jenna and Emma. I don’t see them wanting Wenclair to happen and they certainly aren’t entertaining the mere possibility of it any longer.

Jenna has not mentioned Wenclair in a positive light since that one interview in Teen Vogue, 9 Dec 2022. It’s been over a year since; a lot of stuff has happened. Plenty of reasons for Jenna to have changed her mind.  

Emma made a non-committal comment about “how anything is possible” when it comes to S2 and Wenclair. (Variety, 30 Jan 2023)  But, again, that was over a year ago and a lot of toxic behaviour has happened since then.

Just as with Jenna, Emma has a lot of motivation now to not support Wenclair becoming canon.

Emma also pushed off the possibility of Wenclair beyond S2, she gave the excuse of Wednesday needing a “season of singleness.” Id. Wednesday WAS single in S1, she never claimed anyone as an SO. It sounds more like Emma was a hostage trying to appease her kidnappers by telling them what they wanted to hear. She pushed off the idea of Wenclair to a season that’s not guaranteed to materialize. That’s called passing the buck. If S3 never happens, then she’s not responsible for adhering to an implied promise of Wenclair being possible at all.

Now, Emma has made it a point to stress that shipping is fine as long as it doesn’t cross over into real people. (NME, 27 June 2024).

Wenclairs failed to do that in a spectacular fashion.

Emma admits that Wenclair was a joke they told amongst themselves when it first became apparent it was a popular ship. Id. Wenclair is “funny” to them because they never intended for it to be a ship, but fans choose to interpret it that way.

People ran with Jenna’s comments, but I believe she was supporting it in jest in the way Emma reported in June. Jenna even framed Wenclair only happening in “a perfect world.” (9 Dec 2022) She said it would only happen in an impossible circumstance. I don’t get how people took that to mean she was trying behind the scenes to make it happen, or that it was a secret interpretation fans were meant to figure out on their own.

I think if she knew how much her “fans” would sexually harass her and Emma with the idea of Wenclair, she would not have said it at all. I think with how careful Jenna is with what she posts now, she knows better to say things off the cuff or in jest.

Wenclairs have taught her harsh lessons on how to interact with social media and interviews.

I think it says a lot that Jenna has only been photographed with her stylist in the past several years. She has had plenty of opportunities to do pictures with the cast since filming started, specifically Emma and yet…

Wenclairs have been so rabid and hostile to anyone challenging their fantasy that she only feels safe being seen with Enrique Melendez, her employee, or her family. That’s not normal.

I think there’s a reason why Wenclairs hyperfocus on Jenna making the ship happen and not Emma.

Jenna clearly doesn’t mind doing roles that involve sapphic elements (Miller’s Girl and The Fallout). The same cannot be said about Emma. Wenclairs are so quick to jump on Jenna’s CV of “kissing women” and pointing to that as proof of her queerness. By THEIR same logic, what does it mean if Emma has not done any role where she kisses women?

Jenna’s a great actress and I think could have chemistry and a rapport with a tree if the script called for it. I think she didn’t mind the idea of Wenclair at the time (regardless of how farfetched the possibility was or that it was never originally or seriously considered), but I don’t think she ever intended for people to interpret her characterization of Wednesday that way.

I think both Jenna and Emma regret implying or joking about the possibility of Wenclair as the fans started to sexually harass them on IG with comments on how they are for sure lesbians (neither have stated so) under their posts that have nothing to do with the other as well as everywhere else. Neither can celebrate their own separate accomplishments without Wenclairs mentioning the ship or obnoxiously asking “Where’s Jenna/Emma?”

Wenclairs also post explicit art of Jenna and Emma’s likeness in public forums such as Twitter/IG (and tag them or send it to them directly), and harass male coworkers Jenna has romantic scenes with (Finest Kind). Emma’s male co-star in AGGGTM has also experienced harassment.  

Jenna has outright said she quit Twitter because she was sent explicit AI art of herself right after Wednesday took off.

I 100% believe it was sent by a Wenclair account and it was sexual Wenclair art, given the timing and their appalling behaviour to date.

“I ended up deleting [Twitter] about two, three years ago because of the influx after [Wednesday] had come out, these absurd images and photos, and I already was in a confused state that I just deleted it…It was disgusting, and it made me feel bad. It made me feel uncomfortable” (Entertainment Weekly, 25 Aug 2024) (emphasis added).

I think Jenna coming out and specifically saying there would be no romance for Wednesday (Digital Spy, 8 June 2023) after the December 2022 article is another direct consequence of Wenclair harassment. She changed her tune very explicitly and Netflix has not contradicted her, nor have the showrunners, writers, or Burton ever shown committed support for Wenclair. At most it’s “we’re open to it,” and that was before the harassment got as bad as it is.

Jenna’s playfulness is completely absent in all these interviews since Wenclairs started to harass her. Whatever they were “open to,” the Wenclairs shut it violently.

I wasn’t aware until recently that the Wenclairs were so creepy, invasive, and lacking even the barest of social graces that they were also harassing Jenna’s family.

Here is Aliyah, Jenna’s sister, scoffing and clearly exasperated by the shipping. I highly doubt this frustration comes from being asked just once, she’s probably fielded this question way too many times. She no longer follows Emma on IG.

There are also reports of other IG Lives by Aliyah outright stating that the shipping was out of control and detrimental to their family. Of course Wenclairs are completely crickets about this.

It’s bad enough Wenclairs shove their personal fantasies in Jenna and Emma’s face, but they do it to their siblings? Likely when the siblings were minors or barely adults as Aliyah is only 20.

Emma in the Variety, 30 Jan 2023 article also says her sister would show her stuff, meaning her family was also getting exposed to it.

The latest Vanity Fair article states that Jenna won’t ever make any romantic relationship public. (6 August 2024). She states that her relationships are “hers” and that her fans can’t separate the real her and the celebrity they have built up in her head. Id.

She makes an effort to use gender neutral terms when it comes to a romantic partner. I respect that she doesn’t want to come out as either heterosexual, homosexual, or anywhere in between or outside of the binary. That is her choice, I think there’s a vast difference between keeping things private and being in the closet. Either way it’s also NONE OF ANYONE’S BUSINESS.

But I think it’s undeniable that even though she would get a lot of support if she were queer, Wenclairs have made it so unbearable that she won’t reveal a partner or come out at all.

Wenclairs have made it unsafe and hostile for her to acknowledge her own sexuality publicly, much less a partner.

I think it’s too late for Wenclairs to back off, it looks like they already ruined the friendship or at best drove it underground if the total lack of social media content of them together is indicative of anything.

If they are still friends, then they don’t trust Wenclairs with knowing about it and don’t want to share it with them. It looks like Jenna doesn’t want to share any friendship publicly anymore.

Unless it’s to promo movies or a brand deal, she rarely posts pictures on social media anymore. It’s very rare she posts personal pictures of herself doing non-work outings. She’s keeping her personal life extremely close to her chest.

How exactly do Wenclairs expect a friendship to survive constant, sexual harassment? How can they hang out together when everything they do together is sexualized? Why would anyone think the actresses would encourage a storyline that would invite more?

How do they expect Jenna to support Wenclair to become canon if it means her future male coworkers will be harassed? If it means any romantic partner who isn’t Emma in the future will be harassed? If it means that if she were indeed involved with Emma, that there would probably be a bigger explosion of porn that is shoved in their face?

How do they expect Jenna or Emma to support Wenclair if their families are being harassed about it?

Wenclair has been a curse upon them, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

[orions-choker]

could you pls maybe write rough dom lars x reader :P

if not just kirk x reader smut i will take that shit any day of the week i fuckibg love him there’s just no lars content for me to chew on ANYWHERE atm so thought id ask :)

A/N: I hope this is okay for you! I haven't published anything with lars yet so I'm not sure how well I write him. I hope you enjoy either way!

Warnings: Dom-Sub undertones, Name calling, face fucking, filming. Word Count: 2,124

Being asked to work on the production team for Metallica was like a fever dream. She hadn’t been told much when she had been hired, nothing more than she was about to film every waking moment of them producing their new album. It had her bouncing off the walls in excitement, her first big moment in filming.

She was nothing more than a camera operator, however that also meant she was most intimately in the boys’s space. Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought they would react to her shoving a camera in her face nearly 24/7, but it was somehow worse than she could imagine. It was made very clear how much the boys opposed being filmed. Everyone except Lars.

Lars was entertaining to say the least. It was almost like he lived to be in front of the camera. It gave him every opportunity to speak about whatever he felt like, and everyone had to listen. She almost felt bad for the editors who would have to comb through the footage she got of him, knowing the majority of his babbling wouldn’t be viable for the finished project.

It was endearing, the way he got excited and animated. She noted his accent thickened the longer he spoke, the more comfortable he got. Y/N gravitated towards him for that reason, it felt like she was filming the Lars show rather than the entirety of metallica. They developed a bond. It made her feel warm and fluttery the way he would call out to her as soon as she arrived for the day.

Everyday except for today. When she arrived at their studio where most of the filming was taking place, no one had given her any warning for the shit storm she was about to walk into. With the camera heavy on her shoulder she waltzed into the recording booth, immediately the tension in the room blanketed her.

The producers gathered around looked tense, all four of the guys were recording in the booth together looking more annoyed than anything. Most noticeably Lars was far more aggressive on his drum kit than she had ever seen before. She nearly winced as she began recording, focusing on the producers rather than the band.

“You’re still off time Lars.” Someone leaned forward into the studio mic as the song they were recording came to an end. The anger radiating off of the Danish man was palpable. The fury in his eyes may not have been directed towards her but she felt small anyways.

Y/N tuned out the argument that ensued between Lars, the producers and the rest of the band. She hated it, the feeling like she was invading their privacy, but this is what she was hired to do so the tape continued to roll. Eventually they finished the session, recording a copy of the song that at least to her untrained ears, sounded really good.

Lars had stormed off practically the moment the session ended, tossing his drumsticks off to the side. This was the first time she had seen him so pissed. She would have left it alone if it weren't for the urging of her director to go after him. Everyone knew Lars was especially sweet on her and if anyone were to get footage of this it would be her. Hesitantly Y/N followed him into one of the many smaller lounge rooms in the studio. Suddenly the weight of the camera felt unbearable as she peaked her head around the corner. He was sprawled on the couch, head tilted back against the cushions. His bare chest heaved as he gathered his breath from the workout that came from playing the drums. “Not right now Y/N.” He warned her as he lifted his head to look up at her and the waiting camera. She frowned knowing they wouldn’t be able to use this clip now that he had addressed her directly. Though it gave her the opportunity to speak now.

“Sorry Lars, I don’t want to.” She apologized genuinely as she moved around the couch, settling down on a chair opposite from him. “But I still have to do my job.” She focused the lens, and through the viewfinder she could clearly see the displeased scowl on his face.

Slowly he pulled his body up into an upright position. The glare he sent her way wasn’t like anything she had been subjected to before. She shied away as best she could while holding the camera steady. “Oh fuck off, blow me.” He spat at her. Something in her stomach flipped, it had been clearly meant as an insult but the way the vulgar words dripped off his lips left her feeling…conflicted.

She wasn’t supposed to but she shut off the recording, heaving the heavy technology from her shoulder and placing it down on the coffee table in a form of a truce. There was a flash of regret in his eyes at the sight of her wounded expression. However her next words caught him off guard. “If I did, would it help?” She asked softly.

The boldness in her words left Lars speechless for once. She stood up, moving to slide the lock on the door. “It was a fucking joke Y/N.” Lars sputtered out, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. His eyes widened in disbelief as she dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands coming up behind her head to pull her hair back in a messy ponytail. “Are you serious?”

Y/N shrugged with a small smile. “Good stress reliever right?” She said, placing her hands nervously on top of her knees. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, but she hated the tension between the two of them when he was angry, and of course her attraction towards him was undeniable.

For a moment she watched the gears in his head turn before he laughed dryly. “Fuck I didn’t know you were a slut.” The name should have upset her but it sent a strike of electricity through her core instead. His hand suddenly came up to roughly grab her ponytail in his fist. Tugging her forward towards his crotch as he pulled his growing hardness free from his shorts. “Go ahead then, suck me off.”

The grip he had on her hair was painful, her brows furrowing lightly at the way her scalp ached. Obediently she opened her mouth, her tongue laying flat as Lars guided the head of his cock between her lips. The groan it incited from him had Y/N eagerly leaning forward to take more in. As she went to move Lars tugged her back, clicking her tongue at her. “No, don’t move, whores don't get to take control.” Y/N whined at his harsh words, the way he guided her head up and down his length at whatever pace he chose. She felt powerless against him and it excited her. She relaxed her muscles to allow Lars easy control over her. He wasted no time in setting a brutal relentless pace, her throat constricting and gagging around the girth as he slammed himself into the back of her throat. There was a mess of spit and tears dribbling across her chin.

“Aww fuck, Y/N.” Lars groaned, slurring his words through his accent. The sound had her desperately shoving her hand underneath the waistband of her jeans, rubbing at her wet heat through her underwear desperate for relief. She let out a soft moan around his cock and suddenly he stopped moving.

She was pulled off with an aggressive ‘pop’. Her breathing was ragged and heavy as she looked up at Lars confused. Roughly he pulled her to her feet, grasping her hand and pulling it from her jeans. “Who said you could touch yourself?” He spat out. A blush spread across her cheeks in shame. “This is about me isn’t it? Not you.”

Suddenly he was pushing her forehead, his hand sprawling across the small of her back as he tugged her jeans and underwear down her skin in one go. She shivered at the cool air dancing across her warm flushed skin. “ S-sorry!” she gasped out, her voice weak from the abuse her throat had just received.

“You will be.” He laughed, his fingers traced along the outside of her exposed entrance, up through the wet folds before pulling back and leaving a heavy slap across the flesh of her ass. Her body lurched forward from the sting. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.” Suddenly his breath was ghosting across her ear, his voice softer and more tender. “Is it okay if I fuck you?”

The way he made sure to ask even with how clearly eager she was had her smiling. She nodded quickly, wiggling her hips back against him. “Yes, please.” Her voice was laced with desperation. The grip he had on her tightened eagerly. He pushed her head further down against the couch cushions, spreading her legs further apart as he stood between them.

She felt fully exposed like this, face down, ass up, in the middle of the lounge. The only thing separating them from the numerous people in the studio was one lousy lock. There was a sudden protrusion against her entrance, the prodding head of his dick against her dripping hole forced a gasp from her lungs. In one smooth movement he slid into her tight wet heat.

He moaned above her, a little lighter and whinier than she expected. His hands came to rest on her hips as he pushed himself flush against her ass. “Fuckin’ tight for a whore.” He huffed as her walls constricted around him. With the angle they were at Y/N could practically feel him in her stomach, the slow drag of his cock inside her as he pulled out was intoxicating.

With a quick snap of his hips she was getting pushed further into the couch. Her toes curled as he picked up pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The cushions did little to muffle her moans as he fucked her relentlessly in couch. Her hands scrambled to hold onto something as her body went limp against him. “Fuck so good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned.

“Please, can I please touch myself.” Y/N asked desperately, the ache between her legs growing unbearable. Instead of answering Lars draped his body across her back, one hand snaking around her waist to press his fingers against her clit. Just like the rest of him, his fingers were rough, fast. He worked her clit at a matching pace that sent her over the edge.

A broken moan spilled past her lips as her stomach tightened, her release gushing over his cock like a wave. Her walls spasmed around him as he slammed into her deeper than he had before. It sent a wave of pain through her core as he hit her cervix. A sudden warmth spilled inside her as she milked him of his climax.

His breath was heavy in her ear, their skin stuck together with the sweat that had formed over them. As his cock softened inside her she felt the mixture of their cum spilling down her shaky thighs. Lars groaned, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he fell to the side onto the couch beside her. It was an awkward angle they way they both were lying on the couch. Their limbs tangled together nearly falling off the edge.

“You know, they gave you a lot of shit for being on time, but that felt pretty well timed.” She attempted to joke. It worked, the way he snorted behind her. “Did it help?” She asked softly, craning her head to look behind her at him. She was surprised as leaned forward to press his lips to hers, and she was suddenly aware they hadn’t even kissed before they fucked.

Lars nodded slowly. “Yeah, it helped.” He hesitated for a moment. “I didn’t mean it when I called you a slut by the way.” He assured her with a comforting squeeze. It was probably the sweetest she had ever seen him, fucked out and sleepy. Suddenly his eyebrows raise. “Did you mean to film all that?” He asked, gesturing to the camera still sitting on the coffee table, perfectly facing them.

Y/N sat up confused. “No, I turned it off.” She assured him, turning her head to look. Then the flashing red light indicating the tape was still rolling caught her eye. The color drained from her face. Distantly she could hear Lars’s laughter as she stared down the lens, her ears ringing. “Ah, fuck.”

[altschmerzes]

Any updates on and/or a snippet of history rhymes?! I’m so excited for that one. OR a snippet of the Same Story to get you inspired after your recent post about it? 🌹🥰💙

id be happy to share a clip of history rhymes!! i'm very proud of how it's going so far and invested in this project and i'd be thrilled for the chance to share a piece of it.

this bit particularly is one i'm pleased with. under a cut bc well. you know what that fic is about. specific content warnings for the clip under the cut as well! thank you for asking <3 i'm so glad you're excited for it. it'll probably start being posted sooner rather than later, i'm pretty close with chapter one.

context: this is a bit of a longer clip, it's later on in the fic. the abuse is actively taking place, and jamie is having a hard time keeping things together. they've just won a difficult/important match, and things are going well for the team.

content warning: indirect but clear references to rape/sexual assault. jamie is having a lot of trouble with touch at this stage, combination touch starvation and need to feel safe and comforted and also touch aversion from the ongoing abuse and sense that it's both inherently unsafe and inherently wrong to let people touch him.

There’s good parts and bad parts, like there are every time one of his teammates touches him. Dani is living and breathing against him, still bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, swaying Jamie along with him, and the good parts are enough to overcome the bad. Jamie savours the arm around him, the warm weight of it around his back, the individual press of each of Dani’s fingers into the crest of his shoulder. He doesn’t have to scrape together enough brain cells to say anything, either. Dani is calling around to the rest of the room, loud but joyful and impossible to mistake for anyone but the person that it is, and Jamie can just stand there and be quiet and take it all in. Movement catches his attention out of the corner of his eye and Jamie sees Sam approaching on his other side, a spring in his step and sweat from the match still beaded on his forehead. And Jamie is feeling… Despite the phone in his locker with the time bomb waiting in it, despite the way he had dropped to his knees when Tanner told him to that morning, despite the sick and hungry monster that lives in his gut and never really leaves him, Jamie is feeling brave. He holds out a hand towards Sam, and Sam— Sam fucking beams at him. Sam beams at Jamie like Jamie’s outstretched hand is making him just as happy as winning the match had done. He takes Jamie’s hand in both of his, pulls it to his chest and wraps his arms around Jamie’s forearm like he’s hugging it, letting out a whoop in response to the one that Thierry’s just hollered out from across the room. Jamie tugs, pulling Sam in towards himself, the energy of the room making him even braver, and before Sam can misread the tug as him trying to break contact, Jamie tucks their heads together, cheek to cheek. “Well done, lad,” Jamie says, and he hopes he sounds more excited than he sounds nervous. Sam’s head presses back against his, still hugging Jamie’s arm to his chest, and then his forehead ducks down into Jamie’s shoulder. It’s brief and it makes Jamie’s heart lurch and it’s so fucking wonderful he could almost cry. “You’re coming out with us, yes?” Sam asks, pulling his head up and leaning back, though still keeping his hold on Jamie’s arm. He’s bouncing in time with Dani now, the both of them jostling Jamie between them, still gentle enough that they aren’t drawing a glare from Isaac. “Yeah,” Jamie agrees, barely sparing Tanner and the time-bomb text a thought. It’s his choice, right? He sets the time, he chooses when— Tonight, he’s going out with his mates and he’s going to have a good fucking night. He’s earned that much, hasn’t he? “Yeah, I’m coming with.” And Sam beams again, and when Jamie disentangles himself from both of his friends they let him go easy and his hands barely even tremble when he types out the message. Tomorrow morning. I’ll come by before video review.

[scyfozoa]

feed me more kouming content pls i wanna know more abt their dynamic and how they ivercome their struggles pweaseeee

thank yoy for this ask im Not normal about them um . Um . um . gonna just ramble. yapfest incoming

Kou and Gaming met when they were both 14 – a little bit after Gaming ran away, their first meeting was in the pharmacy as Gaming was being treated by Baizhu because he got injured while working (was younger and less experienced in combat back then), and Kou brought back some meds Baizhu asked for. They talked for a little bit, but didnt think much of it at first.

Sure, they both wanted to be friends, but they werent sure if that would work out. Gaming knew how loud and extroverted he was, and he could see Kou was more of a reserved type, barely talking at all. He was simply worried that he would scare Kou off. Kou, on the other hand, could see Gaming was liked, had a group of friends – and the half-adeptus simply didnt think someone like Gaming would want to be friends with someone like him – Kou was always anxious, scared to talk, ofter losing verbality in social situations.

But Gaming ended up at the pharmacy more and more, at first because of how reckless he was, sometimes for deliveries, but with time, he started showing up just for Kou – he didnt say it though, always conveniently "was nearby, so I figured id visit".

As they got closer and closer, they both realized that despite them being polar opposites, some parts of them were really similar.

(b4 next part starts, i hc gaming as autistic and trans ftm because i can..... plus it fits his story ngl look at rhe event!!!)

Complicated family dynamics, their struggles with being trans, them both being autistic and how that affects them, their sense of not belonging anywhere — are the things that connected them, to name a few. They understood each other better than anyone else, felt safer with each other than with anyone else — sometimes it felt like these two were speaking the same language, while the rest of the world talked in a language unfathomable to them. And as the years passed, and they got closer, it was on a Lantern Rite when they were 16, when they finally confessed to each other under the glowing lanterns in the sky – far away from everyone else, as Gaming knew how overwhelmed Kou got in such gigantic social events. It was after that, after their confession, that Kou promised him that when one day, Gaming finally gets to perform infront of everyone, being the center of the celebration, he will be cheering him on from right there, always being his biggest supporter.

And he kept that promise, watching his boyfriend of already 2 years, being the center of the celebration, blinking away the sting in his eyes, never having been so proud before.

They know each others struggles and always do the best to help – Kou always being Gamings no.1 supporter, even when Gaming felt like it was going nowhere. Gaming treating Kous scars like any other part of his body, and sometimes leaving a few kisses on them when Kou is having a really tough day.

Now, some more miscellaneous stuff. When Kou is free, he always comes with Gaming to just be with him while Gaming practices his Wushou Dance, dancing along while Man Chai jumps around him. He is his biggest supporter after all. Sitting on the sideline, Kou takes it as a great opportunity, and pulls out his favourite sketchbook. He cant be blamed, as Gaming's energetic and fluid motions make for great anatomy practice — and the sketchbook would be just that, if not for the numerous pages of random doodles of Gaming, of his face, his body, just him. Luckily, Kous reflexes allow him to hide the sketchbook the second Gaming finishes and turns to him — he would rather explode than let anyone near that sketchbook.

Kou has trouble sleeping through the night, so he often naps a few times throughout the day — in his room, on a tree, away from anyone. But when him and Gaming are together, Gaming often lets Kou nap on his lap or his shoulder. (gets paid back for it in kisses when Kou wakes up)

They both have sensory issues, but Kous are way more extreme — so when theyre out getting dim sum, Gaming always offers to pick out the parts that are inedible for him. (unless its something inedible for him too...)

thats all foe now.... sorey thats its lackluster + messy, its 2 am as im writing rhis bc i NEEDED to ramble... ill write somethign more comprehensive soon i prommy... (+ the fics are pretty comprehensive !!) if u want more of them feel free to ask or dm me... i love them so much theyre geniuely my everything .. have some koumings that i didnt post

[yanderes-galore]

Sombra needs a yandere alphabet! Please, I'm desperate qwp

Of course! We need more Sombra content anyways ^^ Decided to borrow a GIF off Tumblr this time.

Yandere Alphabet - Sombra

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Breach in privacy/No privacy, Isolation, Kidnapping, Blackmail, Somewhat soft yandere, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Drugging, Possible poor uses of Spanish, Breaking and entering, Forced/Dubious affection, Jealousy, Forced relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Sombra is a yandere that knows just about everything about you. She spends the first part of her obsession stalking you and hacking into any personal info she can get. The second half is when she acts on her obsession.

I'd say Sombra's obsession is mostly tame. She's really hard to detect as a yandere at first, right up until it's too late. By the time you know about Sombra she already has you moved to a secure location off the grid.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

I have a feeling Sombra isn't big on being messy. She prefers to keep her hands clean and instead isolates her darling through manipulation and lies.

She's someone to blackmail and threaten others to get her way more than outright murder.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Sombra would make sure the area she keeps you in is isolated yet cozy. No one may be able to find you except her. That way she's the only one you have to rely on.

She sees no need to mock you. She cares for you more than anyone else (She cares for Sigma, but not in the romantic sense). She plans to take care of you and hide you from Talon. If anything, having someone like her on your side should be an advantage.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

She tries not to, Sombra's not a monster (In her eyes). She respects you more than most would. She still treats you like a human even in your new isolated home.

She's just... looking out for you? That's why she keeps you away from others!

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Sombra is rather secretive so she isn't very vulnerable. Although you can tell by the tone of her voice when she talks to you and the gentle behavior of her actions that she cares. She doesn't wish to deprive you of comfort unless she has to.

She may be busy at times due to monitoring many networks and looking for any signs of you being searched for, but she cares. She won't pour her heart out entirely to you but she will indeed show she cares through little actions.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Disappointed and a little amused. She understands your fight, after all she took you from home like some abandoned animal. However... she sees this as just a little hiccup from you.

If you fight her she'll be sure to discipline you afterwards. It's hard to pinpoint her location due to her invisibility tech. She'll just surprise you and restrain you.

"Nice try... better luck next time, eh?"

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not a game and while she thinks its funny at first, it gets old. She originally thinks it's funny as she knows you can't leave. You won't even know where to go and she wiped any form of ID you had to keep you as hers.

Yet when you keep trying she begins to get... bored.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Sombra is very tame compared to other Overwatch yanderes I've covered, but here's what I think.

The worst experience with Sombra is your abduction. You had no idea you were being tracked or stalked. Right up until she slips into your room.

It's scary as you had no idea of Sombra's existence in your life up until now. Sombra has been watching your life like a hawk, absorbing every little piece of information she can get on you. She's been in the shadows of your life... completely out of sight.

Then she's suddenly in your room, pinning you to a wall with a drug injected in your neck. You don't know who this woman is or why her gaze is so intense. Then when you wake up... expecting it all to be a nightmare...

You wake up in a room with her standing over you, a loving grin on her face.

"Welcome home, cariño."

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Sombra has fallen for you by chance while searching through your files. Part of her feels a need to protect you from the corruption of this world, while another part of her just wants you to herself. She plans to start a relationship with you... even when she keeps you so isolated.

She tries to convince you your love is unique... different from normal... special, even.

It's different from normal alright... yet not in the good way.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

If Sombra is jealous she can hide it well. She tries not to concern you with it and it most likely happens early on in her obsession. If she's jealous of someone she gets to work on finding dirt on them.

Sombra will then use blackmail on those around you to keep them away from you. This makes it easier for her to wipe your presence from the world and isolate you. Then she can simply pluck you away from your old life.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Sombra seems like she could be flirty, teasing, and affectionate with you when she wants. She took you in because she loves you, of course she wants to show that. As a result expect her to show/give affection when she's back from her missions.

She'll kiss you, hold you, cuddle you, etc. She'll try to cheer you up if you seem upset, which you most likely are considering the situation. What's scary is she seems like a genuinely loving girlfriend.

If you met her any other way, maybe that's what you could be.

However... she stalked you, drugged you, and acts like it's all okay. No one else knows about you now. It's just you and her.

She likes it that way.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

As stated before, Sombra's "courting" is primarily just stalking you. She spends her growing obsession gathering all sorts of information, pictures, and videos about you. She even does it all while you are unaware.

If you were also part of Talon, it's a different story. She'd be her usual persona while doing everything behind the scenes.

Again, for the most part you have no clue about her obsession until it's too late.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

I'd say so. She's always been secretive so she can mask her true nature/intentions well.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Sombra isn't too big on punishment. She'd be a yandere who prefers to just lock you in a room more than anything physical. She wants to hear you admit you need her... only then will she let you out. She hates to hurt you though.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Just your freedom, your life can be somewhat normal besides the isolation.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Very patient, it comes with her job.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

She'd have a really hard time, she acts stoic but if you died she'd be devastated.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

A little but no.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Hard to say when it comes to her, maybe curiosity?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She tries her best to comfort you. She doesn't want you upset, she wants to love you. As a result she'll pull you in to comfort you.

"There's no need to cry... I'm here."

That's most likely why you're crying.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

She works much more in the shadows than most yanderes/isn't obvious.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

None, she keeps her weaknesses locked up well.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

She tries not to.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Not a worship yandere but would go to great lengths to have you in her care.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A long time. She can wait months to years to strike.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Most likely mentally.

[dra-and-sdra2-hot-takes]

Harassing your best artists does not a good fandom make

disclaimer: i won't be naming the two artists who were harassed for obvious reasons, and i won't be naming any of the specific person(s) who did the harassment both because they* don't deserve credit and because i don't want to start a fight with them* but to give a lesson to both them* and people who stood idly by and let it happen.

these two artists are some of my favorite in the fandom. while they're both still somewhat active in the fandom, [artist A] has said they* feel disillusioned with the fandom based on its treatment of them* and, well, i can fucking see why! and while i haven't seen [artist B] comment on the harassment directly, i can imagine they* aren't enthused either.

i've had multiple people in this fandom tell me personally that people have come into their inboxes and told them to unfollow/block A and/or B because they're* "problematic" for reasons including but not limited to "drawing nsfw of the another cast" [as if they aren't fucking confirmed to be adults]

and, to top this layer cake of the disgusting treatment of these two artists, i have literally seen, and i am not the least bit joking here, someone's DNI including the line "if you support [artist A] or [artist B]... DNI, they're gross" the audacity. the fucking nerve. to put two random tumblr/social media users in their* shitty little '~do not interact~' list. two users who have done nothing wrong and whose only crime is drawing fiction

setting aside that harassment is.... you know.... always wrong, all the time. this is not how you build a good fandom. there are other good artists in the fandom. but A and B are my as well as many others' from what i've observed. they do a lot of good in this - and i cannot stress this enough - very small fandom.

if you do not like these artists (or any other artist), say it with me now, block and move on. add their usernames to your "filtered content" list if you absolutely musn't see them*. although the claim i've seen of their* mere mention being horrifically triggering for certain people is... odd, to say the least, and reeks of attempted ostracism, just like the backtalking they* recieved in random people's dms.

and of course it is not just these two artists experiencing bs like this in the fandom but their situation speaks to how such a toxic fandom like ours treats even our best and britest.

conclusion: stop harassing people. that's the bare minimum. perhaps don't mention people by name in your 'dni lists'. and realize building positive community is necessary for this and any other small fandom to thrive.

*they/them/theirs pronouns used exclusively to anonymize the people involved in this story because the identities of the people here is not the point. i'm not trying to use an incorrect pronoun for anyone involved here, just protect their identities.

p.s.: i don't control you, dear readers, but i can at least ask you please don't speculate about the identities of anyone i mentioned in the post. kthx

[ID: This blog has no DNI. Please be civil and respectful to everyone under my posts!]

[ts-witchy-archive]

Hello! I've seen a bit of wiccan (?) things for a while, if I were to start I wouldn't even know how to start though. (my autistic ass does not leave the house and my mom would probably think it's weird to make strange concoctions of things) I also don't really know how deities work and how do you find out which one your communicating with? Tbh I've always felt like someone is around but whatever god it is seriously fucking hates me /hj Been better since I started medication but like the luck I have is 50/50 good bad and that is probably not normal. If you answer this it'd be very helpful.

Hi! Thanks for the ask!

I just want to start by defining a few terms for you :)

Wicca/Wiccan: A pagan religion that focuses on nature, magic and witchcraft. It was founded in the mid 20th century and Wiccans primarily worship 2 Gods which are personifications of nature.

Witch: Just a person who practices witchcraft. It's a non-gendered term and a non-religious term/practice. Not all witches are Wiccan but all Wiccans are witches. Witches can be absolutely anyone

Personally, I'm not Wiccan so I can't really tell you much about that but if there is one thing I know, it's witchcraft! There are many different places to start but I'm going to condense it down as much as humanly possible. It'll probably feel like a bit of information overload so just try to take it slow and relax. Enjoy the learning.

My favourite book for beginner witchcraft is 'Witchery: Embrace the Witch Within' by Juliet Diaz. She is a fantastic author and wonderful human. Everything about the basics of witchcraft you could need is in that book (imo). You should be able to find a pdf online if you can't get a physical copy.

As for youtube channels with solid content:

Harmony Nice: She covers everything Wicca. She has a playlist with all her Wiccan/witchy content witch is linked here

The Witch of Wonderlust: Olivia has been a favourite witchy youtuber of mine for a while. I wouldn't recommend jumping into her videos without any prior knowledge but once you have a grasp on the bare bones it should be okay. Here is a playlist she made with everything you could possibly need when beginning witchcraft. SOrt through the videos and see what peeks your interest.

The Hearth Witch: Another wonderful account if I remember correctly. Her videos used to be on the longer end (30-60mins) so if you have a short attention span then maybe not but she has a wealth of information.

I also recommend joining a few discord servers, following a few pages on tumblr just to get acquainted with the community and terminology.

Okay, on to the deity work situation. Deity work is generally considered more intermediate in the witchcraft community. key words being 'Deity WORK'. Worship is completely fair game. Setting up an altar, praying, leaving offerings, doing activities in devotion to the deity is absolutely something you can do relatively quickly.

As for IDing a deity, most people do it through 'divination' which is things like tarot, a pendulum, dice, bone throwing, and other ways. Most people also ask for signs that a specific deity is 'reaching out' to them or wants them to pay attention. You can also politely ask someone who is volunteering their time on tumblr or a discord server to find out for you via divination. If they don't say their doing free readings, obviously, don't ask.

Finally. luck is luck. It makes no sense for a literal God to hate a human. We all have periods of shitty luck and awesome luck! I wouldn't blame that on anything. Sometimes bad things just happen unfortunately. But sometimes amazing things also happen, even if it's just as small is finding 5 cents on the footpath.

That was so long. Congrats if you made it to the end because I nearly didn't when writing this. I hope this helped a bit. Feel free to reach out if you need a hand with anything. Thanks :)

[hooksbooks]

The O in ABO is for Opera Ghost

Now that the author has received it, I can show off this bind! The Phantom of the Opera is a fandom I enjoy, but I don't check in on it very often. Recently I checked in and found that @kotaka-kun had written a bunch of ABO one-shots and drabbles where Erik is an omega and Christine is an alpha. Which, hello, didn't know I needed THAT in my life but YES PLEASE. Female alpha with male omega? Absolute favorite. Erik who is absolutely worshipful of Christine but still socially awkward? Love it. Possessive Christine going "See this weirdo? This is MY weirdo, no one gets to say bad things about him. No, not even you, Erik" like a boss? The most fabulous. So, anyway, I read all their stories and decided that I really needed a physical copy of these ASAP (and then read them all again for good measure).

In a completely unrelated event in the same week, I was introduced to the dwarsligger format of books, which has its text arranged parallel to the spine so that to read the book, the spine is held horizontal instead of vertical. Like a flip-phone, for us olds.

[ID: A dwarsligger book, held open. It has a top page and a bottom page rather than a left page and right page, as the spine is parallel to the lines of text. The whole thing is about the size of a hand. /End ID]

I thought this format of book would be PERFECT for these stories, as they gave me very "it's not like other people do it, but that doesn't mean it's wrong" vibes, which I feel this format of book reflects perfectly. New, different, maybe a little unnerving, but also a little intriguing at the same time.

I format my textblocks in MS Word, and it was tricky to arrange things into a "top" and "bottom" instead of the more regular verso and recto (left and right), but the WORST part was getting the page numbers to work correctly. Because the page numbers are only displayed on the bottom pages but Word has the top and the bottom as different pages, it wanted to put the page numbers as 1, 3, 5, 7, etc. I had to go digging real deep in the MS Word niche features to figure it out. I ended up finding the information I needed on a nearly-20-year-old blog that kept referring to Word 2007 as "new Word". Whenever you need really precise, niche information, it's always on a 20-year-old blog, they're the best source of knowledge. If anyone's curious, I ended up having to do some math in the page number field codes so the displayed page number was always half of the actual page number + 1 (using integer division). So 1, 3, 5, 7, etc. became 1, 2, 3, 4, etc. Unfortunately the Table of Contents field codes are a black box and don't let you edit the internals, so I had to generate the table of contents (which displayed the actual page numbers instead of the displayed page numbers) and then edit all the numbers myself.

On the bright side, this format and size of book (it's an octavo, so one-eighth of a letter-size sheet of paper) is PERFECT for a drabble collection. A title, plus 100 words, plus a page number, exactly fits on one top-and-bottom spread.

I of course made myself a copy as well as an author copy. However, there were...issues.

[ID: A black and brown copy of the same book lying on a cutting mat, front covers up. They're both titled "The O in ABO stands for Opera Ghost" with the text arranged parallel to the spine, but the brown copy is noticeably narrower and the title barely fits on the cover. /End ID]

When I trimmed my copy, I measured wrong (or rather, measured right but in the wrong place) and trimmed the right side twice. Luckily I had left large enough margins that I didn't trim off any text. I'll just trim the left side by the same amount and I'll just have tiny margins on my copy, no problem, right? Wrong. I immediately proceeded to cut off all my kettle stitches on the left side.

[ID: A hand holding a dwarsligger book open with a thumb under the stitching in the middle of a signature, showing that the knots securing the stitching have been completely cut off on the left side. /End ID]

Luckily the stitching is secured at three other points and I glued the spine well, but it was still a face-palm moment.

Technical details:

Size: Letter-octavo dwarsligger

No headbands on this one (intended to, forgot until I glued the oxford hollow on, at which point it was too late)

Rounded but not backed

Chisel-trimmed

Things I especially liked about this bind:

The format! So weird, so delightful

Things I would improve next time:

Not cutting my stitching off, ideally.

Overall, I love the stories and like the bind. (I also read all the stories through again once I had the finished bind in my hands. Still loved them.) It works, it's functional, it would have been better if I hadn't trimmed my copy way too narrow, but live and learn and it still works so it's fine.

[hunterssm00n]

Ready or Not

"Are you... one of my friends playing a prank on me?" It has to be. I don't know where any of my friends would have gotten the Ghostface voice-changer, or why they would even want to do such a thing.

The voice on the other end of the phone huffs out a laugh, and those same tingles travel down my spine once again.

"No, but I'd like to be your friend." | Ghostface/OC |

part 1 of 2

also on ao3: here

*cw includes explicit sexual content, unspecified male Ghostface, dirty talk, dub-con, stalking, breaking and entering, criminal behavior, explicit language, praise kink, serial killer behavior, and voice kink* MDNI - 18+

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

Ready or not / here I come / you can't hide / I'm gonna find you...

It always begins the same, doesn't it? Young, cute woman, home alone, watching a scary movie and making a snack...

When suddenly, out of nowhere, the phone rings.

It's after eight - who could be calling at such an hour?

The number doesn't come up on caller ID; the name reads unknown. Could it be any more ominous?

It rings, and rings, and ri-

"You could just, like, not answer," I say out loud to myself, shaking my head of long, dark hair at the TV screen for what seems like the fiftieth time. The young woman on the screen pays me no mind - the dumb bitch never does - as she tearfully answers the phone once again to plead with the killer to leave her alone; to please stop calling. I sigh, taking a sip of my vanilla Coke as I lean back on the couch. I've seen this movie about a hundred times, and I am still amazed at how dumb some of the characters are. The outcome is always the same, no matter how much I try to warn them Don't answer it! Look behind you! For fuck's sake, don't hide under the bed! And no matter how many times I know that I am just talking aloud to an empty room and my TV screen, I still continue to do it. I decidedly do not think about how this behavior is very similar to the textbook definition of insanity.

Regardless of my annoyance about the unwise decisions some people make during horror movies, I genuinely love watching them. My friends and family think it's weird that I enjoy scary movies so much, but I don't really care what other people think of me. Movies are my escape, and I always feel at peace when watching my favorites. 

The young woman on the screen is now running away from her patio window after a chair had been thrown through it, her tear streaked face pulled into a grimace as she runs wildly down the hallway away from the killer. I find myself wondering, not for the first time, what I would do in that situation. Would I hang up and call the police? Hide? Escape the house? Honestly, I like to think that I'd grab the biggest fucking knife I could find in the cupboard and stand my ground. Though I'm slim and athletic, and barely reach five foot six, I know that I could put up a fight if necessary. But maybe escaping the house and running to my car would be the safest, smartest option. Who knows, though. Thinking about it doesn't harm anyone, though; one can't be too prepared. But one definitely could be unprepared. 

I'm taking another sip of my Coke when my phone rings suddenly, scaring the daylights out of me and nearly making me drop the can and spill the addictive, sugary liquid all over the place. Wiping my mouth, heart pounding in my chest from the suddenness of it, I laugh to myself at the irony of the situation: Here I am, watching a scary movie, alone in my home at night, and then, dun dun dunnn, my own phone rings in real life. Rolling my eyes, I remark out loud, "Ooh, spooky," and make a mental note to not answer the phone. But the more it rings, the more I wonder if maybe I should. If someone is calling my landline at eight fourteen at night, it could be important. My cell is charging in the other room - maybe whoever it is had tried to reach me on there first, and since I didn't pick up, they're now calling my home phone. Ugh, it better not be work. I decide to just let it go to voicemail - if it is something emergent, I'll pick up... unless it's work. Then I'll pretend that I had fallen asleep early. 

My plan fails, however, when I hear the telltale beeping of the answering machine that signals the mailbox being full. "Shit." I mutter, leaning over the arm of the couch to look at the grey and black box, as though willing for it to share its secrets with me. It doesn't help that my landline doesn't have caller ID like most people's - it's older, but since it still works, I can't justify buying a new one. This is why I'd been counting on the answering machine picking up and being able to tell that way, instead.

Stop being a little bitch - man up and just answer the phone. If it's not anything important you can just hang up. Besides, who the hell else would be calling at this time of night anyways besides work or family? 

Before I get the chance to pick up, the answering machine hangs up on the caller. For a moment I dumbly stare at the phone and the answering machine, and then I shrug and turn back towards the slasher film that is still playing. The girl on the screen is now being chased by the killer, his long, black cloak flying out behind him as he runs after her, gleaming knife raised high in the air.

It's at this moment that the phone rings again, and this time I lean over towards the end table and pick the cordless, white handheld up off of the stand. If they're calling back so soon, it has to be something important. Maybe it's my mother. And since I hadn't answered the first time, mom, if it is in fact her, is probably wondering if I fell and cracked my head in the clawfoot bathtub; or if I've finally decided that going to bed at eight o clock in the evening is not, in fact, too early. As if. 

Without thinking any more about it, I reach over and answer the phone. "Hello?" 

"Hello, Kail." 

The voice startles me, and it isn't one I've been expecting; not the voice of my mother, or of my boss wanting me to come into work. It's a man's voice; low and pleasant, almost a purr, with a hint of a rasp to it. Come to think of it, it sounds a hell of a lot like- "Um, hi. Who is this?" I ask, equally pleasant but also wary. A bill collector wouldn't greet me like that - definitely not. It has to be someone who knows me; knows my voice. And only people that are close to me call me Kail - most just call me Kailey. And I don't have many close friends, and definitely none that are guys. Guys want to get in my pants, not be my friend. With my long, dark hair, large dark doe eyes, and womanly athletic figure, I know how men look at me. And, hey, I'm not above being a little bit of a tease.

"Just an... admirer." The voice is nice - really nice. It's an exact replica of the voice from the Stab movies, and also the Ghostface killings that tend to happen throughout the years in Woodsboro. Living here has its nightmares.

I lean back on the couch, really wishing for the house phone to have caller ID right about now. "An admirer, huh?" 

"Yeahh," the voice purrs, and I find myself pressing the phone closer to my ear to take it in even more. It sends a chill down my spine - a good kind.

"Okay, well," I try wracking my brain for someone, anyone, that has been super interested in me lately. Maybe someone at work - someone I talk to every day. I work in the inventory department at the local hospital in Woodsboro, and I'm not super friendly with any of my coworkers; we all get along, but I tend to keep to myself. I like to think that I'm pretty observant, but no recent incidents stand out to me. No strange guys, no creeps following me or watching me from afar (that I'd noticed, at least). "Do I know you, Mr. Admirer?" 

"Maybe." is his reply. His voice sounds so damn amused, even only saying one word.

'Maybe'... Okay? Well, that certainly doesn't help me.

"Are you... one of my friends playing a prank on me?" It has to be. I don't know where any of my friends would have gotten the Ghostface voice-changer, or why they would even want to do such a thing. None of my friends really watch scary movies, and most of them do not know the number for my house phone. 

The voice on the other end of the phone huffs out a laugh, and those same tingles travel down my spine once again. Whoever this is, their voice is sexy as fuck.

"No, but I'd like to be your friend." comes the bemused reply to my question.

...Hmm, now I'm really wondering who this is.

"Well," I begin, smiling to myself and letting it seep into my voice, "it's kind of a weird time to ask to be my friend, on a Friday night at eight thirty."

Now the voice on the other end chuckles, the sound deep and low, and cascading over me like a warm waterfall. The feeling ends with a zap straight down between my legs, and I squirm on the couch, eyes flicking briefly to the movie that's still playing, but at this point is nearly forgotten about.

"Is there ever really a bad time to make a new friend?" he asks, and I roll my eyes playfully, even knowing he can't see it.

"I guess not. So, tell me, friend, how'd you get my number?" I reach for my drink, wracking my brain trying to figure out who this possibly could be.

 "It was in the phonebook," he answers lightly. Why does everything he says sound like he's flirting with me? And why is it so hot? 

I guess phone books are still a thing (maybe for old people), but I can tell his answer is meant to be teasing, and probably not truthful. But maybe it is? It would certainly explain a lot. And it would mean that whoever is on the other line has to at least know my name, in order to find me in the phonebook. I don't know how many Kailey Miller's live in Woodsboro, but it can't be that many. 

This speculation still isn't getting me any closer to an actual answer, but... maybe that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Maybe some mystery is good, and also adds to the attraction I'm currently feeling. 

At this particular moment, the female character in the movie that's still playing gives a particularly piercing scream, and I reach for the remote in order to turn the volume down. 

"Are you watching a scary movie?" he asks, and I nearly laugh once again at the irony. Here is a caller with a (sexy) voice that sounds just like Ghostface, and they randomly call me while I'm watching Stab. And now they're asking me about a scary movie. What the actual hell.

"Y-Yeah," I don't know if I should be answering him, or hanging up the phone, or locking all the doors and windows and calling the police. "I am."

"Or do you normally have hysterical, screaming victims chained up in your house?" he adds playfully.

This gets a laugh out of me. "Oh, yes - you've figured out my secret. Promise you won't tell the police?" I hope I'm not laying the flirting on too thick - it kind of makes me want to gag. My normal idea of flirting is making sarcastic comments and inappropriate jokes. But understandably to some people, that can be pretty off-putting. So unfortunately more often than not, I find myself trying to dumb things down for the sake of others around me. 

There's a pause, in which I can hear him breathing on the other end of the phone, and I really wonder if I've scared him off or if he's about to hang up. But then he speaks: "I won't tell if you won't." 

The words send a chill down my spine, and the way he manages to make something like that sound so creepy and so hot at the same time is beyond me. And maybe I'm crazy, but goddamn is it sexy. I've never felt so attracted to another human being. Ever. 

And then the power flickers in my house. 

I wonder if I’ve imagined it, at first. My house is on the outskirts of Woodboro, surrounded by trees and green, but it hardly ever loses power since I am still technically within town lines. My mother had been very adamant about making sure we remained in the town, for the sole purpose of being close to everything that necessitated being close to. Be that the school, jobs, the hospital, the drugstore, etc. and we hardly ever lost power. My mother had long since moved out of the area to a different town, but I had inherited the old house, and am very proud to call it my own. Right now, however, I am questioning the choice of location.

I find myself looking up at the light above, wondering if it had actually flickered, or if I'm finally officially losing my mind. 

“Whatcha looking at?” 

The question doesn’t quite register at first, but when it does, it feels like everything paused. I slowly reach for the remote next to me on the couch cushion and pause the movie, wondering if he’d really said what I thought he’d said - what I am  certain  he’d said. “What… What did you say?” 

“I said: Whatcha doin?” 

I shake my head, feeling my stomach twist uncomfortably for the first time since I’d answered the phone. “No, you didn’t.” 

Suddenly a feeling creeps over me like I’ve never experienced: I have never been so certain that I'm being watched. And I’ve also never been more aware that I'm sitting in front of a clear window with my back to it. 

Cold chills wash over me like never before, and I feel like I’ve been plunged into a frozen lake. Survival instincts take over, and I slowly sink down on the couch so I'm no longer visible from the window behind me - however, I could still be seen from the front door, and the side window to the left of the couch. Especially with the lights on. So naturally, maybe not the smartest thing, but my first order of business is to kill the lights. I quickly get up and run the short distance to the front door, and flick off the light switch, at the same time flipping the locks on the front door, as it hadn’t been locked before - but it sure as hell is now! 

I can’t remember the last time I’d felt like this - or  ever  feeling like this. 

“Who turned out the lights?” comes the playfully sinister voice from the other end of the line. I’ve nearly forgotten I'm still on the phone, as silly as that sounds, for that's the whole reason for all of this current madness and fear. 

The fact that he is watching me is now quite apparent. The outside of my home is surrounded by plenty of trees and brush to hide in; lots of shadows in the dark. And aside from my porch light, there is only one street lamp outside, directly across the drive from the house. And it's inconsistent when it comes to whether or not it will be working, at any given moment. Either way, as I peer out through the window that looks out across the porch, I know that I probably won't be able to tell where he is hiding. And the fact that he knows where I am, but I don't know where he is, scares me inexplicably beyond words. 

Swallowing hard, I try to hide the tremor in my voice as I speak into the phone, "Listen, if this is a prank, congratulations - you've had your fun. Now, now get the fuck out of here before I call the police." 

A warm, breathy chuckle follows closely after my words, and I creep back away from the window towards the couch, "This isn't a prank, Kails. You should know that." 

I shake my head in confusion, "What do you mean? I don't understand - I should know what ?" I try to wrack my brain for anything that's happened recently that would indicate that I'm deserving of a 'prank' like this. Sure, I have enemies - but so does everyone. But none that I know of that would go this far to prove a point, or any of which that know  where I live (that I know of, at least). And again, I really don't think any of my friends would want to pull a Ghostface prank on me - they're all freaked out by the murders, rightfully so, and they're all pretty straight laced for the most part. The more I try to come up with answers, the more questions I have. 

There's a pause from the other end of the phone, a brief one, while my hand feels around on the couch cushion for the TV remote, wanting to turn the movie off to eliminate that source of light as well. I'm crouched on the floor, eyes nervously darting around at all the windows and the door to make sure no one is trying to break in. And then, he says: “You  want  this.” 

My hand freezes on the couch cushion, as does my whole body; as does my very  breath . “W-What?” 

“ Yeah , that’s right,” His voice is so husky and warm, and despite my fear I feel a pleasant tingling in my lower back, my heart beginning to race for a different reason. “You’ve been thinking about this for quite some time - wanting it,  dreaming  about it. You think nobody would ever understand. You think it’s wrong to want something so dirty. But it’s not wrong. And  I  understand.” 

I still haven’t managed to grab onto the remote - I'm forced to listen to what he's saying with my cheeks heating, red in shame, and… something else. What is even going on? What the hell is happening to me? 

“I don’t know what you  think  you know,” I begin, a tremor in my voice, though I try to make it as serious and steely as possible, “but if you’re trying to scare me, good luck. It’s you who’s gonna be fucking scared if I have to come out there with my gun.” 

He chuckles again, and the hair on the back of my neck rises once again at the sound. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have a gun.” 

While I internally bristle at the confidence of his statement (and at the fact that he is absolutely correct), I also preen  at the pet name as well as the tone of his voice. And, not that he needs to know this, but I absolutely do  not  have a gun. But damn, would one be helpful right about now. “As long as you leave now you won’t have to find out.” 

“Feisty girl,” he hisses, and I hear some rustling in the background of his call for the first time. “I can’t wait to see how feisty you truly are.”

“I can’t wait to see your fucking face when the cops show up and arrest your dumbass for trespassing and harassment.” I finally am able to turn off the TV when my hand finds the remote. If this is a prank, it's long past the point of being funny. Now I'm just plain pissed off - and scared. “I’m not kidding, asshole, you’d better leave, or else.” That fine tremor is still in my voice, and as much as I try to project it to make my voice sound more aggressive, I can barely get it out at an audible octave. Right now all of my energy is being expended on thoughts of survival and on what to do next.

This is probably a prank, though. It has to be… right? If I go into work on Monday and someone is going around talking about how they pranked me and ‘ she was so scared, dude! ’, I'm gonna lose my effing mind, and heads are gonna roll. As soon as I find out which jackass from the hospital came here to terrorize me on a Friday night, I will make them regret it. But until then, I'd feel much safer with a weapon of some kind, and with the police alerted. They take these Ghostface pranks very seriously. 

“Why would I leave now?” the voice questions, and I hear a noise that sends my pulse skyrocketing even higher than it already is: the sound of footsteps on my front porch. “We’re just getting  started .” 

I barely register the telltale scrape of the mailbox cover being pulled down from against the outside wall of the house next to the front door - where the spare key to the house is kept - before I bolt out of the room with terror hot on my heels. Who is this person, and how do they know where I keep the spare key to my house? The  exact  spot? Granted, it isn’t a very hard spot to find, but still. He finds it with no hesitation whatsoever - he'd had a preconceived idea of where it would be before he even came up onto the porch. That meant only one thing: whoever he is, he's been watching me. For a while. 

And now he's coming into my house. 

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

AN: I do not own the Scream franchise or any of it's characters, but Kailey is my own OC. I also do not own the song 'Ready or Not' by Razakel. The above photos are from Pinterest, and attached are the links to the original images.

part two coming soon