#there’s one or two that i’ve shared before independently but i figured that i would compile them into one place again

[theoryofwhatnow]

more like minds behind the scenes (of the boys) that you might not have seen before

part one

some of these were unburied by the lovely: @widowswinter thank you very much my dear

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 19, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Jan 19, 2025

You hear sometimes, now that we know the sordid details of the lives of some of our leading figures, that America has no heroes left.

When I was writing a book about the Wounded Knee Massacre, where heroism was pretty thin on the ground, I gave that a lot of thought. And I came to believe that heroism is neither being perfect, nor doing something spectacular. In fact, it’s just the opposite: it’s regular, flawed human beings choosing to put others before themselves, even at great cost, even if no one will ever know, even as they realize the walls might be closing in around them.

It means sitting down the night before D-Day and writing a letter praising the troops and taking all the blame for the next day’s failure upon yourself in case things went wrong, as General Dwight D. Eisenhower did.

It means writing in your diary that you “still believe that people are really good at heart,” even while you are hiding in an attic from the men who are soon going to kill you, as Anne Frank did.

It means signing your name to the bottom of the Declaration of Independence in bold print, even though you know you are signing your own death warrant should the British capture you, as John Hancock did.

It means defending your people’s right to practice a religion you don’t share, even though you know you are becoming a dangerously visible target, as Sitting Bull did.

Sometimes it just means sitting down, even when you are told to stand up, as Rosa Parks did.

None of those people woke up one morning and said to themselves that they were about to do something heroic. It’s just that when they had to, they did what was right.

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by a white supremacist, he gave a speech in support of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. Since 1966, King had tried to broaden the Civil Rights Movement for racial equality into a larger movement for economic justice. He joined the sanitation workers in Memphis, who were on strike after years of bad pay and such dangerous conditions that two men had been crushed to death in garbage compactors.

After his friend Ralph Abernathy introduced him to the crowd, King had something to say about heroes: “As I listened to Ralph Abernathy and his eloquent and generous introduction and then thought about myself, I wondered who he was talking about.”

Dr. King told the audience that if God had let him choose any era in which to live, he would have chosen the one in which he had landed. “Now, that’s a strange statement to make,” King went on, “because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land; confusion all around…. But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars.” Dr. King said that he felt blessed to live in an era when people had finally woken up and were working together for freedom and economic justice.

He knew he was in danger as he worked for a racially and economically just America. “I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter…because I’ve been to the mountaintop…. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life…. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

People are wrong to say that we have no heroes left.

Just as they have always been, they are all around us, choosing to do the right thing, no matter what.

Wishing you all a day of peace for Martin Luther King Jr. Day 2025.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[geneviveleocardius]

john price romantic headcanons

im so happy omg, i love this man

actually marriage headcanons with captain john price

(feat. gaz, soap, ghost)

John is your rock. His job means he’s often in dangerous situations, but he takes his role as your husband seriously, keeping his family his number one priority. He’s the type to check in with you whenever he can, even if it’s just a quick text:

“Just landed. Miss you already, love.”

When he’s home, his presence feels like a safe haven—a stark contrast to the dangers of his job.

John is a traditional man in many ways. He takes pride in being dependable and protective, but he admires your independence too. He’ll hold the door open for you or pull out your chair but will also support your career and passions wholeheartedly.

John isn’t one for grand displays of affection, but he shows his love in quiet, meaningful ways. He’ll make you tea exactly how you like it, leave little notes for you to find when he’s away, or restock your favorite snacks without you asking.

“Figured you’d want these for your late-night reading sessions.”

After all these years, John still gets that soft, admiring look in his eyes when he sees you. Whether you’re dressed up or in sweatpants, he makes you feel cherished every day.

Soap, Gaz, and Ghost have practically adopted the two of you as their surrogate parents. Price is their Captain, but they’re not blind to the way he softens around you, and they fully lean into the family dynamic.

Soap jokingly calls you “Mum” all the time.

“Mum, Dad’s being grumpy again. Fix him, please.”

Ghost is quieter about it, but he’ll casually ask for your advice like he would with a parent.

Gaz loves coming over for dinner because, as he puts it: “You’re the only ones who know how to cook real food."

John’s already fiercely protective of his squad, but with you? It’s a whole different level. If someone disrespects or threatens you, his quiet, commanding presence is enough to shut them down instantly.

“You alright, love? Good. Now excuse me while I have a word with that bloke.”

After years of action-packed missions, John values the peace he finds at home. His favorite moments are the simple ones—sharing a meal with you, sitting by the fire, or walking the dog together.

“The world’s a mess, but right now? This is perfect.”

John isn’t overly expressive with his emotions, but his actions speak volumes. He’ll fix something around the house without being asked, carry your bags, or stay up late to talk when you’ve had a hard day.

His squad gets the gruff, no-nonsense Captain Price, but you get the softer, more affectionate side of him. When the two of you are alone, he’ll pull you close, rest his head against yours, and let out a rare laugh.

When Soap, Gaz, and Ghost visit, Price transforms into the classic dad figure—flipping burgers at the grill, cracking dry jokes, and making sure everyone’s plate is full.

“Soap, stop eating all the chips before dinner. Ghost, you’re too quiet—what’s on your mind, son?”

John notices when you’re overworking yourself or feeling down, and he’s quick to step in with practical care:

“You’ve been at that all day, love. Come here, sit down. I’ll handle the rest.”

Soap and Gaz often tease him about how smitten he is with you.

Soap: “Price, how’d you convince someone like her to stick with you?”

Price: “Charm, wit, and being a better man than you’ll ever be, MacTavish.”

John loves your banter and will jokingly challenge you to harmless competitions, like who can throw the ball farther for the dog.

“Let’s make this interesting. Winner gets to pick dinner; loser washes up.”

Not that you and John argue often, but when you do, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost inevitably take your side, just to see him squirm.

Soap: “Sorry, Captain, but you’re wrong. Mum’s right. Always.”

At the end of the day, John is a man who’s seen the worst the world has to offer, which only makes him appreciate what he has with you even more. His love for you is steady, profound, and unshakable.

“I’ve been through hell and back, but coming home to you, love… that’s all I need.”

he’s the best right? i’m out, xoxo!

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter eight pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER EIGHT: BETS

previous masterlist next

word count: 4k

warnings: smut, oral (m&f rec), unprotected sex (kinda, readers on the pill), creampie (wrap it up!!!), praise, dirty talk, couple good girls thrown in, kinda public sex they’re fucking IN A TENT WITH EVERYONE ELSE 10 FEET AWAY, basically the whole chapters them having sex sooo

a/n: a little sex scene just for funzies 🤭

JAKE HAD A problem. A rather hard one that didn't seem to go away even with his night walk that he forced himself on in the chilly air. With it being the last night of your group vacation, he had been struggling with the lack of privacy the campgrounds held.

Any other circumstance he would've been fine, however, with seeing you in a tiny little bathing suit the past two days, the thin strings holding little to the imagination and almost seemed untrustworthy due to how your perky boobs bounced with each step and the cheeky bottoms showed off practically everything, skin glistening with your lovely tanned skin in the water and near all day view of your body, Jake was pent up to say the least.

It certainly didn't help that since you two have gone far past regular boundaries already, you opted to sleeping in a large shirt and cotton underwear as your preferred method most of the time was no underwear at all, but you figured to be polite, wearing some was the best choice. Each night Jake had laid next to you, the outline of your curves shown under the thin sheet as the humid air only left it comfortable enough for one. When you'd wake up in the morning, majority of the time the sheet had been tossed off most of your body, giving Jake a clear look at the roundness of you ass and thick thighs that peaked out beneath.

And tonight seemed to be the breaking point for him. After making his rounds in saying goodnight, he had led himself into the shared tent only to see you in his shirt, a sheepish smile on your lips as you turned to him, hair pulled up all messy and in the midst of cleansing your face.

"I got my other shirt dirty," You told him before he could question you upon it. "Let me wear it tonight, yeah? It's what a good boyfriend would do," You teased, a small pout upon your lips as you peered up at him with the tilt of your head.

Jake had no other option but to oblige. You sat so pretty in his shirt, the outline of your tits beneath the thin material more than enough to make him puddy in your hands and he had merely agreed to everything you said for the next thirty minutes until the lamp was turned off and you rolled over for bed.

You weren't dumb, you could see how Jake's demeanor changed, much more quipped and having a hard time actually looking you in the eyes. But still, the thought of doing anything with the other tents a mere 10 feet away, there was no way you'd go through with it. Thus when you rolled over, you truly intended to sleep for the night, a sigh of content leaving your lips only to be wide eyed and awake fifteen minutes later.

You had heard Jake exit the tent only to come back five minutes later, him muttering under his breath and proceeding to toss and turn. Assuming you had fallen asleep due to the steady rise and fall of your breathing, he had been doing his best to get comfortable but it was hard when his bulging tip was practically begging for attention, far too pent up to go away anytime soon.

Growing tired of the constant moving on his end, you rolled over, eyes immediately falling down to the obvious length that pushed against the material of his sweats, the words you intended to speak suddenly forgotten in the process. Your lips parted, not knowing what to say while Jake lets out a deep sigh.

"You mind helping me out?" He mumbles, voice raspier than usual as his hand begins to palm at his cock through the material of his pants. The lack of light made it hard to see, the small pile of wood left to burn out outside being only minimal dim illumination but you could see his blown out pupils and desperate eyes, airy breaths leaving his lips in the process.

"Everyone else can hear," You whisper, hesitant but you couldn't help the wetness that began to accumulate between your legs, clenching your thighs at the sight of Jake who seemed so eager and in need of your touch.

He shakes his head, reaching out to draw you closer. His lips captured your own, messily locking with enough force to indicate how pent up he felt. "We'll be quiet," He reassured against your lips.

A soft moan erupted from your throat muffled by his mouth against yours. The kiss turned sloppy, teeth clanking together as Jake guided one of your hands down to his crotch. His head fell back upon your hand wrapping around his length through the sweats, a breathy sigh of content coming from him.

All clear judgment had been thrown out the window, you obliging to his word without hesitation and your hand momentarily left his cock to hook your fingers along the waistband of his pants. In a swift motion and the lift of his hips, you pulled the restricting clothing down in one movement, his boxers dragged along with it leaving his hardened dick to slap against his stomach.

Your eyes slightly widened at the sight. Although you had hooked up once, Jake was more focused on getting you off that night, not allowing for you to have a proper glimpse of his full length until now. You had definitely felt how big it was, but now having your hands wrapped around the girthy base it seemed impossible for you to even take.

Placing small peppering kisses around his thighs, each growing closer to his length as your hand slowly pumped up and down his shaft, you smile upon Jake's whiny moans that quietly filled the air between you. Your tongue licked up from his base all the way to the tip, kitten licks along his reddened head before your lips wrapped around him. Starting off slow, you began to adjust to the size, ensuring to keep your teeth out of the way as you bobbed up and down, taking in more and more of his cock each time while one of your hands stroked the remaining length.

Pulling away momentarily, you allowed your hands to do the work while taking in a deep breath in prep. Your eyes flickered up to meet Jake's, his brows pinched together as he attempted to stay quiet, the gaze one that cause you to smile, content with the obvious way you made him feel good.

"What're you smiling about?" Jake huffs out, hand going behind your head to pull you back down his cock. This time, however, you hallowed out your cheeks, full trust in your usual lack of a gag reflex and taking his entire length down your throat, holding it at his base while you feel his cock twitch at the new sensation of your mouth. "Fuck," Jake hissed out, his hand holding a fistful of your hair as his hips bucked further down your throat. "Such a good girl, so good with your mouth," He rambled on, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you began to bob up and down, nearly having his full shaft in your mouth.

Growing needy, Jake took advantage of the opportunity. Fucking his dick into your mouth, his hips moved up and down at a continuous pace, the wet sounds of your saliva heard and beginning to pool around his crotch. Your eyes shut at the up and down, doing your best to keep your jaw unhinged but as he suddenly stopped, pushing your head all the way down as far he it would go, you tapped his thigh feeling a gag erupt from your throat.

Jake pulled away, allowing you to let out a cough as you caught your breath. "I'm sorry, I’m sorry, you're doing so well pretty girl," He praised, thumb wiping away the spit that accumulated at your chin.

"Asshole," You huff, blinking away the few tears that pooled at the corner of your eyes. He let out a chuckle, gently pushing your hair from your face and pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

"You're okay baby," Jake coos guiding your mouth back to his cock with a teasing smile. You roll your eyes but comply, the smug expression wiped off his face as soon as your lips were wrapped around him once more. With his jaw falling slack and eyes pinching closed, you felt a certain boost of confidence, proud of how good you made him feel. "Fuuuck," He drawled out, seemingly confirming your thoughts with a whiney gasp hitching in the back of his throat as you peer up at him, cock still in your mouth and pretty eyes locked on him. "Fuck, you feel so good baby, pretty little mouth takes me so well,"

You felt hit dick twitch as it reached the back of your throat, your hand and mouth simultaneously bobbing up and down along his shaft which seemed to be more than enough to cause Jake to squirm beneath you. Quickly pulling you away from the grip he still held on your hair, a breathy laugh left his lips as he leaned back.

"What?" You asked innocently, lips pouted together and slightly swollen. He shakes his head, you knowing fully well the answer to your own question but he instead pulls you up to him, barely allowing for you to wipe away the excess spit from your mouth before his lips locked with yours once more. The kiss caught you by surprise. The hot open mouthed pecks trailed down from your mouth to your neck, only pulling away to push up his shirt from your body and reconnect his lips to your hardened nipples.

One of his hands rolled the bud between his fingers, providing it some attention while his mouth sucked on the other. His other hand trailed down to your thighs, softly nudging your legs open with minimal effort and his fingers found way to your underwear, a low hum erupting from his throat feeling the wet spot through the material.

"Jae," You mewl, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in attempt to stay quiet. Slowly pulling the cotton of your panties down at a pace that seemed excruciating long, Jake smiled seeing at how you bucked your hips, desperate for some form of friction against your swollen cunt. "Please,"

"So needy," He tuts with the click of his tongue, his fingertips finding their way back to your wetness beginning to circle along your pussy and watching as you let out a rather loud moan. "Shh, you have to stay quiet baby," Pushing the material of the shirt into your mouth, he ensured you were biting down on it to muffle the low mewls that continued to erupt from your throat. His head dipped down, finding its spot between your legs for a second time and more than pleased by the sight of your pretty cunt that begged for more.

Licking a long stripe between your lips, a hum of satisfaction came from the sweet taste you held. No longer willing to tease, Jake deviled fully into lapping up and down, ensuring to focus on your swollen clit as his nose rubbed against it every so often. Your hips bucked, a hand finding way to Jake's hair and tugging at it slightly which earned a small moan from him, one that vibrated directly against you and caused your eyes to shut in pleasure. The other hand fiddled with your tits, pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves and doing your best to stay quiet though it proved to be difficult.

Jake continued, egged on by the way you attempted to squirm away from him, legs clenching together but he merely pushed your thighs apart. The familiar sensation began to pull in your stomach, your whines growing more frequent as you neared your high.

"Oh fuck, please, please," You whispered out, voice high and pornographic, eyes rolling back as you moved against his mouth. "Please, please Jae,"

Just as you felt your release on the brink of bursting, a loud whine left your lips as Jake pulled away. His hand clamped over your mouth, shushing you as he peppered kisses to your thighs. "I'm sorry pretty girl," He whispered, though his apology came pitiless as he wore a rather amused smirk watching your hips buck in attempt to gain any type of attention to your swollen clit. "I don't want you to cum yet," He shushes you, lining himself between your legs. He stared down at you, hand pumping along his shaft for a few moments as you pouted.

"Asshole," You repeat for a second time, few heavy breathes in attempt to regain your composure but that was thrown out as soon as his tip began to rub along your slit. Jake hummed before he spit into his hand, mixing your arousal with his saliva as he coated his tip.

The feeling of his dick beginning to enter your cunt caused your eyes to squeeze shut. Certainly turned on but not quite used to his length yet, there was a slight burn as he slowly inched in, allowing for you to adjust before he bottomed out inside you.

Both your moans mixed with one another, Jake's particularly whiney as he stilled himself, having to gain some composure before he came just from feeling your warm walls wrapped around him. He had no idea what it was about you, but the feeling of your warm pussy was intoxicating, one he never wanted to forget after gaining the privilege.

"You're so pretty," Jake mumbled, slowly beginning to move as he pushed his fingers into your mouth, muffling your moans. "So fucking pretty, your little cunt wrapped around my dick taking it so well. Such a good girl my love," Keeping his strokes deep and slow, the feeling more than enough to have you squirming against his hips.

Your muffled moans, the sound erotic sounds of your skin clapping together, and the slight squeak of the air mattress was certainly more than enough noise for everyone else to get the general picture of what was occurring, not to mention your tent that shook with each passing stroke. Far too drunk on the feeling of his cock that continued to kiss your cervix, you paid no mind to how loud you were, focused on your own desires and the familiar build up the began to brew once more.

Jake was more aware of how loud you two were, however, that didn't provide any indication for him to stop. In fact, it seemed to urge him to do more, the thought of letting everyone know just how good he filled you up and how you begged for him to continue did wonders for his ego. It turned him on more if humanly possible.

"Please keep going," You slur as he removed his fingers from your mouth, instead using them to circle around your clit that seemed to be needing attention.  He continued to fuck you at a consistent and deep pace, intending to get you to your high first but the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him more and more drew him to the edge. "Please, Jae don't stop," Your whiney plea led to a pornographic moan, Jake picking up the pace to fuck you through your built up orgasm.

He groaned feeling you clench around him, his dick twitching slightly from how tight you became. You had to pull away his hand from your clit, the friction far too overstimulating as he stayed consistent with his strokes, though they began to grow more shallow as you felt your ears ring at the over abundance of pleasure.

"Oh baby," Jake moans, the breathy whine leaving his lips as he gripped your hips tightly.

"You gonna cum baby?" You mewl, hands reaching around his shoulders as your nails dug into the skin slightly. Pulling his head close to yours, you capture his lips in a chaste kiss. "Come for me, please baby, go ahead,"

Your words broke the thin string that Jake held onto. Your lips crashed together, his moans muffled into your mouth feeling the warm sensation fill your cunt, Jake pumping himself through with shallow strokes before halting, his body suddenly feeling weak as he fell on top of you.

A small laugh left your lips with Jake's arms barely able to support his weight, otherwise crushing you beneath him as he took heavy breaths. Your hands pushed away the hair that stuck to his forehead due to the beads of sweat that accumulated at his hairline. Wincing as he pulled himself out of you, allowing for the cum to drip out of your hole while placing his t-shirt beneath you to catch any that dribbled down, Jake rolled onto his side with deep breathes.

"We need to do that more often," He says aloud, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips before pepper light pecks to your shoulder.

"You're lucky I'm on the pill," You tut, sending him a pointed look to the mess he made.

Jake shrugged. "You told me last time," He explains, his lack of care for the potentials explained by the wave of his hand. "Best case scenario, it's works properly," He grins, finding the fact that he may have been developing a breeding kink rather exciting, you being the first and presumably only that he’d do so with. "Worse case is we have a kid, no biggie,"

You smack his arm, rolling your eyes at his nonchalantness while sitting up. "Don't manifest that," You tsk, adjusting your own shirt while holding the other article of clothing close to your core, feeling the warmth that continued to dribble out. "C'mon,"

"Where we goin’?" Jake groans, reluctantly sitting up as he watched you grab a pair of shorts to slip on.

"I have to pee, especially since someone decided to do this," You emphasized, watching the boyish smile form back on his lips, entirely pleased with his doing. "It's dark as shit outside, I'm not going to piss in a tree by myself,"

"You're the one who told me to come," He defends but nonetheless slipping on his shorts without argument. Unzipping the tent, he steps out into his shoes first, holding open the material for you to follow. "Lets go princess,"

You roll your eyes, though thankful for the now died out fire as it hid your smile that ghosted upon your features. You tucked the spare toilet paper roll and hand sanitizer from your things under your arm before slipping out. Jake held out his hand as you two stood, his flash from his phone being the only light indicator and he took a moment to glance over the other tents, ensuring no one was still out.

Your hand slipped into his, following his lead and focused on the rocky ground to not trip over your own feet. Jake led you to a secluded area far from any other campers in the tree line, the actual porta potties a drive away down the road meaning it was out of question for now.

"Okay, go away," You shooed him, finding your footing behind a bush that you deemed adequate enough.

"Seriously?" He snickers, finding it hard to believe you refused to pee in front of him while he was quite literally inside you moments ago.

"I'm pee shy," You defend, sending him a pointed look as he laugh. Shaking his head, Jake wandered away, far enough to provide you some privacy but still within hearing range and the light in view. "Okay, just, whistle or something,"

"Oh yeah ‘cause whistling in the pitch black dark in the middle of nowhere isn't creepy at all,"

"Then hum!" You huff, now squatted behind the bush and mentally cursing yourself for giving in earlier which led to where you were now. All for some dick. "Go pee too before you get a UTI,"

Waving you off, Jake silently obliges to your word. Humming a random tune loud enough to drown out any noise that would come from you, you both silently proceeded with your business. In the midst of cleaning yourself up, Jake's voice broke the air once again. "Hey,"

You pinch your brows, standing up straight to see him walking your way once more. "What?" A mischievous smile took over his lips, quirking a brow. Holding out his hand for you to spritz the sanitizer into his palm, he rubs it in before answering.

"You hungry?"

                 "FESS UP," SUNGHOON held out his hand toward Ni-ki as you and Jake tiredly slipped out of the tent. It was morning, the rising sun beading down had caused you to wake up early the past few days, the heat making it hard to sleep anytime past 7am and after the escapades of last night, you felt particularly sluggish.

A yawn escaped Jake's lips as he slipped past you, a quick kiss placed to the side of your head as he made his way to the portable stovetop where Heeseung seemed to be cooking up breakfast. You made your way to the others sat along their respective chairs. Yunjin had a wide grin on her lips, sipping from her cup of coffee while Jay shook his head, though the amusement that lingered in his expression wasn't unnoticed.

"What?" You ask, settling into your seat while Ni-ki huffs, placing a 10 dollar bill into Sunghoon's hand who pocketed it with a smile.

"You let me down," The youngest tsks, swirling around the milk that was left in his bowl of cereal. Pointing an accusing finger in your direction, you tilt your head not knowing what he meant.

"You guys are loud," Jungwon pipes in with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes while Sunoo follows with a small nod.

"Should've went and fucked in the woods, at least then we wouldn't have had to hear you," Jay snickers, watching as your eyes widen in horror. The reaction caused the group to burst into a fit of laughter, Jake and Heeseung joining the group with hot bowls of ramyeon in hand in the midst. "Kept everyone up last night too when you decided to have post-sex snacks,"

"Aftercare," Jake shrugged, jumping into the conversation with ease and seemingly unfazed by the conversation topic. He pulled your legs to drape along his lap, a comfortable position that had been your go-to considering Jake had become particularly clingy and in need of having some form of touch. He held out your own bowl to you, carefully handing it over while you sent him a small thanks. "We're a couple, what'd you expect?"

"I did expect it," Sunghoon corrected, holding up the money he gained from the bet he placed with Ni-ki upon wether or not the two of you would've hooked up over the trip. You raise a brow, tilting your head while he smiles innocently.

"You were trying to bet me about Yunjin and Heeseung while betting on me with Ni-ki at the same time?" You confirm, watching as he held up his hands with a small shrug.

"Easy money," Sunghoon said nonchalantly. "I knew someone was going to so,"

"You bet with me about Heeseung," Jay frowned his brows at the new information.

"___ said no so had to go to someone else," He explained causing you to roll your eyes. A small snicker came from Jake, him squeezing your leg before taking a bite of his food. Sitting up, Yunjin looks around, visibly confused by the topic at hand as she gestured between herself and Heeseung who sat silently eating his own bowl, his smile hidden by the fact that he was eating like his life depended upon it.

"What bet about Heeseung and I?"

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @aishisgrey @enczen @vanvity @dreamiestay @caitysdelusions @ikkeumyluv @v3lv3tsin

( pls make sure your settings make you applicable to tag )

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Girl I just love your fics and I wanted to see I could ask for one myself

Could you pls write a Mirko x Fem!reader where reader is insecure about her body and turns to sh but Mirko finds out and she comforts S/o and they make out while Mirko praises her and sings a lullaby to her for aftercare

Sorry if it's a lot

Ive been though a rough patch with sh myself and I just wanted to find a way to feel better

I know you might not find this though your inbox

But I figured it's worth a shot

Thanks

(Hello Anon, thank you for your kind words and I really hope this makes you feel better. Just remember, you are not alone in this, me and other people are always here for you. Also don’t worry, this wasn’t too much for me to handle)

More than Perfect

Rumi Usagiyama x FEM! Reader

(Warning: Self harm, swearing, and making out but nothing too spicy)

Insecure. If there’s one word in the world that can describe you, insecure couldn’t be more fitting. Your body being the main victim of your insecurity. Everything about it made you feel bad and often times you looked in the mirror wishing you were in a different body.

Rumi is everything anybody would want in a woman; strong, confident, independent, brave, beautiful, just utterly perfect. Too perfect for you, she deserves so much better, you believe. Those thoughts run constantly through your head, causing your emotions to dampen and dull.

Eventually those thoughts became darker and irrational, making you resort to a more unhealthy, dangerous course of action. Self harm. You do your best to try and cover up the evidence. You can’t run the risk of Rumi finding out, she already has enough to deal with plus you don’t want to burden her or worst, hurt her.

Though life doesn’t always go your way, it never does. Rumi ended up finding out, she was returning from a long day of fighting petty criminals and when she opened the door and called out to you that she’s home she got no response. She assumed that you were in the bedroom taking a nap or something, so she walked to the shared bedroom and opened the door. She didn’t knock because if you were sleeping she didn’t want to wake you.

But what she saw was unexpected. You were sitting on the edge of the bed harming yourself. You froze immediately when you saw your girlfriend standing in the doorway just as shocked as you are.

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the right words to articulate together. Your vision became blurred as tears formed over your eyes. Suddenly you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you tightly but cautious not to accidentally hurt you.

Rumi knows that you must’ve suffered mentally for a while for you to go to this as a coping mechanism. She didn’t blame you one bit, the only person she blames right now is herself for not noticing or figuring it out sooner. But that doesn’t matter, what matters most right now is treating your wounds and comforting you.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me. Sit down while a treat your wounds okay?” Rumi says assuringly, pulling away to go get the supplies needed. Fortunately she wasn’t gone for long and started carefully treating you, making sure it hurts as little as possible.

The amount of guilt you feel is unbearable, you feel like a bother. Though your thoughts are easily interrupted by two hands cupping your cheeks and a pair of red eyes staring softly into yours. It’s almost like she knew exactly what you were thinking.

“I’m all done, now if you want to talk about it I’m all ears, but if you don’t then that’s alright too.” Rumi said, sitting next to you on the bed.

You hesitate for a moment before letting the words spill from your lips, “I’ve been..insecure about how I look and stuff..and I..just couldn’t take it anymore.” You confessed as you feel Rumi’s hands rub up and down your back for a moment before motioning you to sit on her lap. Usually she would just lift you up herself but right now she doesn’t wanna overwhelm you.

Straddling her lap, she wraps her arms around your waist protectively, you kiss her lips in which Rumi gladly reciprocates. But you wanted a bit more, trying to deepen the kiss you were left feeling disappointed when you lost contact with her lips.

“Are you sure about this?” Rumi asks, searching for any signs of discomfort.

“Yes I am..but I don’t wanna do too much, y’know.” You say and Rumi nods in acknowledgment. She is sure to not overstep a boundary and you trust her on that.

She gently puts one hand on the back of your head to pull you closer and kiss you. She lets you be the one to deepen the kiss, which is unlike her but she doesn’t mind at the moment. A minute goes by and you pull away for some air.

And Rumi took this opportunity to say something she thinks she should say more often.

“Your body is so damn beautiful, hell, even more than that. I am the luckiest woman in the universe to have a girlfriend like you. And don’t you forget that.” Rumi says in a matter of fact tone, accepting no denial to that statement.

You look into her eyes and see no sign of deception or untruthfulness instead you see nothing but confidence and sincerity. You embrace her tightly, grateful for her existence. She smiles softly at this and hugs you even tighter.

The both of you sit in blissful silence until you hear your girlfriend’s voice, but it wasn’t her talking, it was singing. She had a peaceful singing voice, like music to your ears. You’ve never heard her sing before so it surprised you but the shock didn’t last for long before sleep consumed you.

Masterlist

[joshsindigostreak]

Moonburn

Prologue

Two of Swords, Reversed: Delays, indecisiveness, extreme dread, anxiety, and stress.

Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC

Authors Note: Hello!!! This is the start of Jake’s story! I hope y’all like it as much as I do. His side of the story has been in my mind the whole time I’ve been writing ISHIYE and I’ve been itching to share it with you. This is only the prologue but I promise there’s much more to come! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ❤️

*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.

Word Count: 3,845

Warnings: Brief violence, descriptions of blood, that’s about it for now.

He wasn’t even supposed to be in Tucson, but a blown motor had him stuck there for God-knows how long. The shop he towed his car to didn’t give him much of a time frame, just that they would call him whenever it was fixed. In the meantime, Jake Kiszka had settled in a cheap motel. Well, not extremely cheap, but it was comfortable enough that he knew wouldn’t get scabies from sleeping there. 

Nevertheless, he took this as an opportunity to take in the sights of the Grand Canyon state, at the very least Pima county. The sights in question were any local Nests that he could find and snuff out any Undead that were loitering around places they shouldn’t. 

The last three days (or nights depending on what species you were), he had been tracking a small group of them that were dumb enough to hang around the same places in the city. Vamps were always easy to spot. Their attempts to blend in with humans were awkward and stilted. Like aliens who had landed on earth the day before and had never seen a human before. That was also how you knew you were dealing with one of the young, and dumb, ones. The older the Vamp was the easier it was for them to blend in. If they’re smart enough to survive past fifty years or so, they usually start adapting to whatever environment they’re in. 

It was one of those Vampire details that confused Jake as a kid. How did they forget their humanity so fast? You’re human one day and the next night you’re a blood sucking monster, his dad would tell him. But the idea that it only took a few hours to forget whatever life you had before was almost fascinating to him. 

He was always taught that the new ones were practically feral and sloppy, which was how they got picked off so easily. They’d leave bodies behind, risking exposure to the humans who walked around in pure ignorance to the creatures that walked among them. 

Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d catch them before they even claimed their victims. Skulking around in the dark trying to remain unseen but all of their movements looked the same, at least to Jake, which was why he was always able to figure them out faster than his siblings. He was the quiet observant one, always having his eyes on a swivel. His twin was the social one. He could talk his way into any place or establishment that he wasn’t supposed to be in, and he had a particular knack for being able to build a rapport with some of the Vamps they’d be tracking. 

It worked even better when they were in parts of the country where the only thing anyone knew of them was their last name, and the weight it carried. Knowing their name was one thing, but knowing their faces was another, and they used that to their advantage. It was also well known that they were identical, but over the years their personal aesthetics had skewed so hard in the opposite directions that they’d have to be side by side to truly see it. Though sometimes the confusion as to who was who worked in their favor. 

Jake turned his attention to the horizon from inside the car. Due to a low inventory from a week full of fender benders the rental place only had a Toyota Corolla available on the lot. A  silver Corolla from 2006, to be exact. Jake had stared at it for nearly five minutes behind his dark sunglasses, as if he could turn it into literally anything else with his mind. But when the rental agent informed him of the only other option, a burgundy minivan, the hunter agreed and signed the papers for the car through gritted teeth. 

There he was, ridding the earth of Hell-borne filth in a clunker with hubcaps. 

The sun was peeking over the horizon; the sky turning different shades of pink, yellow. and blue. Jake had a strict rule to not move in on a target until the sun was fully up and visible. “Your shadow is your friend, and your clock no matter what,” his dad would tell him. A hunter never wanted to risk a Vamp having the home field advantage that was the night. Even overcast days were iffy at times. 

Once a Vampire laid their head down they, as obvious and cliched it sounded, slept like the dead they were. It was some biological failsafe to protect their species from accidental sunlight exposure. Or at least that's what his walking-encyclopedia of a little brother reminded him along with other scientific facts about the species. 

He was parked on the side of the road a blocks-length away from the house he was watching. Vamps were known for their practicality when it came to their Nests. They liked invading houses and squatting in them after they made the residents their evening meal. This particular house was by its lonesome on this road, the nearest house was almost two miles away, which Jake didn’t mind because his plan for the four Vampires he had tracked to this location would be fucking cake.

At last, the sun shined its beautiful rays, warming up the world and preparing it for the day. Jake could almost hear the joke his twin would’ve made about it being a “dry heat” had he been there. His right hand reached to the passenger seat for his crossbow, lifting it slowly with reverence.  He kept his gaze fixed on the house as he carefully opened the driver’s side door.  He didn’t shut it all the way, just enough to make that first little click in the frame.  

As he approached the house he looked at all the windows to see which ones were covered up, a clue as to where in the house they were sleeping. He walked the perimeter a couple of times, going slow to make sure he didn’t miss anything and to let the sun rise even higher. 

Rounding the back of the house, Jake went up to the back door. He reached out and gently twisted the doorknob, and it fully turned without protest. 

They really were stupid, he thought to himself. 

The revelation that the door was unlocked let him know that they were also over confident that they’d be safe during the day time. Jake couldn’t wait to prove them wrong. 

He walked into what was the kitchen, before it had been ransacked by the real intruders sleeping elsewhere. Multiple cabinets were flung open, their contents strewn everywhere on counters and the floors. Smears of blood decorated the surfaces and the floors, streaked with what had to be fingerprints. 

Going from room to room, he saw similar scenes around the house. He still hadn’t located what he was there for but there was one bedroom at the far end of the house left. The door was slightly ajar, and from his spot in the hallway he could see a window with the curtains firmly drawn. Bingo. They were all in there, soundly asleep. A classic, “shooting fish in a barrel” situation. 

Carefully he opened the door further and peaked around the room. This had obviously been the primary bedroom, with a sizable king size bed against the far wall, with two Vamps sprawled out on the duvet, with a third curled up on the carpet at the foot of the bed. 

The hunter silently aimed the crossbow at the one on the floor, directly at its chest. At this point it was muscle memory, his finger squeezed around the trigger automatically, shooting the stake right into the Vampire’s heart. His eyes flew open in surprise, but it was too late, the color drained from his skin and it shrunk back against his bones. The usual yellow cast bled into his eyes, and as a final signal that all too familiar death rattle bubbled up from his mouth, a little too loudly for Jake. 

At the sound the female Vamp on the bed sat straight up, looking directly at Jake. 

“You bastard,” she hissed as she slapped the male Vamp next to her awake. She lunged at Jake knocking the crossbow out of his hands as he tried to shove her off of him. The two rolled around on the floor, battling for control. The hunter managed to get on top of her, straddling her waist as he quickly grabbed a stake from inside his jacket with one hand, and used the other to try to control her hands and keep her pinned down. His reflexes worked perfectly and he was able to shove her arms out of the way fast enough to drive the stake into her chest in a flash. Like the other Vamp before her, she withered in front of his eyes. 

Just as her death rattle completed the process the other male Vamp jumped on Jake’s back, straining his neck to nip at Jake’s flesh with his fangs. The hunter nearly growled as he twisted his body to fling the Vamp off of him. He didn’t go very far, but it was enough for Jake to get on his feet and grab another stake from his jacket. The Vamp stood up and lunged at Jake again, this time shoving him against the nearest wall. Jake winced as he was forced backwards and felt the drywall crack; the breath nearly knocked out of him. The stake was pinned between the two, curled in his fist and pointed down at the floor in a useless position. 

Jake looked over the feral Vamps shoulder, and realized he was close enough to the corner of the room that he could potentially gain control. With another growl, he used all of his strength to push him away and into the other wall. The Vamp's head bounced back against the wall, and in the nanosecond of delirium Jake was able to tilt his other hand up and ram the stake into the remaining Vamp, directly next to his sternum. 

The Vamp sagged against the wall as whatever “life” he had faded away. Jake let him go completely and didn’t care where he landed on the floor. He stepped back and didn’t let his guard down until he was sure they were the only creatures in the house. He ran a hand through his messy hair, wincing when his fingers hit a few tangles and pulled at his scalp. Instead of fighting through them to the ends of his hair, he pulled it back, wanting the feeling to stop instantly. A brief flashback of dirty gnarled fingers twisting into his hair and yanking upwards flashed before his mind’s eye and he shook his head to rid himself of the memory and rubbed his hands quickly over his face. 

Jake turned back to his crossbow and strapped it on his back. Now the fun part was about to begin. He looked down at the nearest corpse, the one he had just killed against the wall, and grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging him through the room. He flung the back door open once he got to it, and heaved the Vamp outside and into the sun. The corpse started to sizzle and burn before it hit the dirt. One down, two the go. 

He repeated the process until all three were piled on top of each other outside, burning through their clothes and turning their bodies to ashes. As Jake watched the flames, he reached into his jacket again, this time for the celebratory cigar he always brought with him on Nest raids. He brought it to his lips and leaned forward, lighting it using the flames of his latest bounty. 

He stood there, and the fire reflected off his dark sunglasses. He took long and slow drags of the cigar, satisfied with his work that morning. For a brief moment he wished his twin had been with him. He didn’t mind doing things on his own, but it always felt a little sweeter to have Josh standing next to him. 

Soon enough the three Vampire’s were nothing more than a pile of ashes. Jake found a shovel in the yard, and used it to dig a shallow pit to dump the ashes into. It wasn’t to “bury” them, no, there was no honor in this. Instead it was just a quicker way to quite literally cover up his tracks. 

As he drove back to the motel, he couldn’t wait to sleep the day away, satisfied that there were three less bloodsuckers walking around. 

~!~

A few days later, he found himself in front of a dive bar just outside of town. The Tipsy Tumbleweed stood before him, its red lighted sign blazed into the dark of the parking lot. A few of the letters blinked, indicating some of the bulbs were on their last legs. 

The heels of his boots clacked against the wooden floor inside, and the idle chatter amongst other patrons met his ears. He loved a good bar like this. Understated, knew exactly what it was, and didn’t try to be anything more. The walls were covered in various purple neon signs, the biggest one was on the wall behind the bar itself, with large letters spelling out: Sinners Welcome. Yeah, he was going to enjoy himself tonight. 

Just as he sat on an empty barstool, a loud and melodious laugh floated through the air behind him. He nearly broke his neck to look at the source, and that was when he saw…her. 

Her back was to him, her dark jeans and black t-shirt wrapped around her curves beautifully, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail but was long enough that the ends fell between her shoulder blades. She was standing in front of one of the booths against the far wall, chatting with the two people who sat on either side. 

He couldn’t see her face yet, and everything in his body told him to sit fucking still so he could possibly get a glimpse of it. He barely registered the young voice of the bartender asking him for his order. He kept his eyes set on the mysterious woman while he quickly mumbled something about a whiskey. He wasn’t normally that rude but as the bartender went off to make his drink she finally turned around and started walking towards him. Her large hazel eyes scanned the room as she walked and she waved at one of the tables, telling who-ever-the-fuck hi. The same dark hair framed her face in some loose layers and when she flashed a smile at someone else, Jake nearly fell off the stool. He suddenly felt like he was back in sixth grade, when Abbie Willis picked him for her kickball team in P.E. and he tripped over absolutely nothing while walking over to her. Josh never let him live that down. 

For a moment, Jake thought she was walking towards him, but she breezed right past him to exit through the Employees Only door. He turned on the stool to face the bar, hoping to god that the heat in his face wasn’t obvious. Instead, he made the most awkward eye contact with the bartender who was placing his drink in front of him. She was a tiny thing, definitely shorter than him with sharp cheekbones and curious round eyes. She couldn’t have been older than 21. 

“Umm…thanks,” he said, trying his best to recover from whatever that was. 

“You're welcome, I’m Stacey if you need anything else,” she said brightly before turning to walk to the far end of the bar, where another man was sitting at the corner. 

Jake’s eyes followed her and silently observed that side of the bar, taking in everything. Part of him wanted to turn around and watch that Employee door in hopes that she would come back out, but he didn’t want a repeat of what just happened.

He took a sip of his drink while he observed, but just as he started to relax the man at the end of the bar tilted his lowball glass back to take his own sip, and one of the lights on the other side shined through the glass and displayed the…red…contents. It wasn’t runny, it wasn’t grenadine, it was blood. 

Did he sneak that in here? Jake had obviously seen Vampire’s drink from glasses before, they could be formal when they wanted to, but out in the open like this? That was ballsy as hell. 

A drop escaped the glass and landed on the corner of the man’s, well, Vampire’s mouth and his tongue darted out to catch it. The bartender Jake now knew as Stacey was just standing there, chatting away as if she hadn’t even seen it. The hunter immediately thought that the Vampire had Persuaded this young girl into not noticing, and if he was already doing that, what else was he planning to do? 

Jake immediately shifted into hunter-mode, his casual evening cut short by duty calling. He sat there, listening as best he could over the loud music and crowd noise. Soon his glass was empty, and as Stacey walked back by he got her attention and she stopped in front of him. 

He ordered another whiskey, but before she could hop off to make it he asked her a question, “hey umm…who's that down there?” He tilted his head slightly in the Vampire’s direction. 

A sheepish smile spread across her face, “oh…that’s Lou. He’s in here a lot.” Even in the dim lighting Jake could see the color rush to her cheeks when she said Lou’s name. 

A regular Vampire, huh, not for much longer, Jake thought. 

He opened his mouth to ask another question but Stacey’s eyes suddenly went wide and she darted off to the Employee door without another word. He vaguely heard her say the name, “Cecilia” as she exited but he wasn’t sure.  

Jake sat there confused as to what spooked her so quickly, and he stole another glance at “Lou” the Vampire. 

“So, another whiskey for you?” A smoky voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

Jake whipped his head back to the direction of the voice and suddenly, she was in front of him. He gaped at her, once again reverting back to his awkward prepubescent self. All he could do was nod like an idiot. A new glass was placed in front of him, the amber liquid perfectly poured. 

“This one’s on the house,” she said as she leaned against her hands on the edge of the bar. The motion made her collar bones visible just beneath the scooped-neck of her t-shirt. Fuck. 

“O-oh you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense, I like giving out a  free drink once and awhile, especially to new faces. I even top shelved it for you,” her lips formed a smile and she tilted her head at him, as if she already knew the effect she had on him. 

He took a sip, savoring the liquor on his tongue before swallowing. Perfectly smooth. 

“Now, what are you doing here,” she asked, a little less friendly than before. 

The question threw him off, why would she ask that? 

“Just checking out local places while I’m in town,” he answered with a level tone as he took another swig of his drink. 

“Hmm…yeah but what were you doing just a couple minutes ago?” 

He looked at her strangely, “just sitting here?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his throat tighten up out of nowhere. What the fuck?  

“Uh-huh, just sitting here? Not scoping out the place?” 

“No? Why would I-,” his throat tightened up even more, making it harder to breathe. Jake struggled to take in a breath as he gripped the glass in front of him. 

“You do know where you’re sitting, right?” She leaned even closer to him, lowering her voice. 

“At a bar…?” That was the truth, partially, but he didn’t know where she was going with this. 

She smirked at him, “oh I guess you didn’t notice that this bar happens to be next to a cemetery?” 

Cemeteries were probably one of the few truly neutral places you could be. Neutral in the sense that creatures knew better than to start trouble in them, and hunters were lumped into that protocol as well. They were their own liminal space with their own rules, and Jake remembered Sam rambling about the spirits that reside in them did not take kindly to truces being broken on their land. If Jake had actually killed the Vampire at the end of the bar, it would not be pretty for him once the spirits figured out what happened. If the woman in front of him knew this rule, then what was she?

“Fuck,” he rasped. 

“Yeah, fuck is right. So what is a hunter like you coming into my bar where we mind our own business and coexist as best we can?” Irritation was evident in her voice. 

This was her bar? Oh, he really fucked up. 

“Listen I wasn’t trying to start anything,” he tried to explain but his words had his throat nearly closed completely. 

“Sure you weren’t,” she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small vial full of pale green liquid. She held it up in front of him, “sir you look very…purple…are you feeling alright?” 

He stared at the vile in her hand, and he wasn’t sure if he was connecting the dots or just seeing them, but he tried to whisper a guess. 

“W-witch..?” 

“Oh nothing gets past you,” she mocked. “And yes, I am, thank you for asking.” 

At this point all he could do was wheeze at her. 

“Now, I can reverse that little concoction you happily drank, but only on one condition.” 

His big brown eyes started watering and he nodded.

She twisted off the cap of the vial and slowly poured the contents into Jake’s glass as she spoke, “you have two minutes to get out of my bar before I get that Werewolf in the corner to throw you out.” 

Jake quickly drank down the whole glass as best he could, oxygen finally entering his system as his throat loosened back up. 

“S-sorry…” he whispered. 

“If you ever come back here and try that shit again, it’ll be a lot worse. Now go,” her voice was final, and she flicked her eyes over his shoulder and at the door. 

Jake didn’t hesitate to slide off the barstool and walk right out, not looking back even though he wanted to. 

As he drove back to the motel, all he could think about was the Witch that just nearly killed him, and how her eyes bore into his, and for once in his life, Jake Kiszka was the one intimidated and outmatched. 

To be continued…

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden  , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace ,

[itstobias149]

Character Dynamics

Little Mac Edition

Hi guys! So not too long I made a post with a pole to see if you guys would want to see some headcanons and character interactions! I got all kinds of votes! So if you aren't one for Oc‘s this might not be the post for you, and that's okay! Feel free to scroll! I decided that I would make this like a post collection of sorts with a bunch of dynamics and interactions between my oc in the Punch-Out boxers! I am proud of all the work and thought I've put into this, when I gain a new fixation on media I tend to all out at the time. I've been part of so many fandoms where I wanted to share my ideas but I've always been super shy! But I don't know, you guys seem pretty chill! So I hope you enjoy this! I've had a lot of fun developing these!

Sibling dynamic: Little Mac

Marie first encountered Little Mac in her neighborhood, long before either of them became involved with the WVBA. Not long after Marie had moved to the use from Germany she came across the kid. At the time, Mac was just a scrappy teenager from the Bronx, always running around in his worn-out sneakers and shadowboxing on street corners. He had dreams of becoming a professional boxer but was struggling to find his footing—figuratively and literally. Marie, who was working odd jobs and hustling to make ends meet, often saw Mac training at a local park. His drive and determination caught her attention, especially since he reminded her of herself: someone small in stature but full of fight.

From that day on, they started talking whenever they crossed paths. Mac shared his dreams of making it big in boxing, and Marie encouraged him, offering advice on staying strong and focused. She’d often bring him water or snacks, joking that he needed to “bulk up” if he ever wanted to fight heavyweights. She would watch him practice and watched as he got picked up by Doc Louis. She was always there to celebrate his small improvements.

Letting Him Stay with Her

As their bond grew, Marie began to notice the cracks in Mac’s situation. He often avoided talking about his home life, and when he did, it was clear things weren’t stable. He admitted to couch-surfing and struggling to balance training with finding a safe place to sleep. One particularly cold winter night, Marie saw Mac shivering on a park bench, trying to rest after a late training session. That was the final straw, she had gotten a stable job at the local morgue and had gotten an old home on the far side of town that was wedged between to brick buildings. Without hesitation, Marie offered him a place to stay. He was reluctant at first but she finally convinced him.

When he isn't working on his career I feel like outside of night school for his GED he is helping her upkeep and fix the house. They always have DIY projects going with it. She also is working with Doc Louis to teach Mac how to drive. Two different styles of driving, Mac prefers driving with Doc because Marie is always the panicky driver.

“Listen, you’ve got a dream, and you can’t chase it if you’re running on fumes. You need a home base, and I’ve got an extra room. Deal with it.”

Their Sibling Dynamic

• The Protective Big Sister: Even though Mac is fiercely independent, Marie can’t help but dote on him like a big sister. She makes sure he eats properly, rests enough, and doesn’t overdo it in training. She’s not afraid to lecture him when he’s pushing himself too hard, but her support is unwavering.

• The Playful Little Brother: Mac, in turn, loves to poke fun at Marie in a sibling-like way. He teases her about her cooking (despite eating every bite) and hides her stuff just to watch her get flustered. But deep down, he’s endlessly grateful for her.

• Shared Humor: They share an inside joke where Mac calls her his “manager” since she was technically the first person to really support his boxing dreams. Marie rolls with it, often responding with, “Manager? You mean unpaid babysitter.”

Marie Becoming a Cutman

Marie’s journey into becoming a cutman was inspired by her relationship with Mac. Watching him train and compete, she wanted to do more than just cheer from the sidelines. She started learning about sports medicine, patching him up after tough sparring sessions, and eventually decided to pursue it professionally after one day he came home instead of going to the ER, he was a little too beat up. Marie was always afraid he would end up on one of the tables in the morgue. Once she found out they didn't really have a medical team she applied to the WVBA with what knowledge she did have. When Mac made it into the WVBA, Marie was already on her way to becoming a cutman. By the time she officially joined the organization, she was fully qualified and ready to step into the ring corner—not just for Mac, but for other fighters as well.

Why Their Relationship Works

Marie and Mac’s bond is rooted in genuine care and shared history. They’ve seen each other at their lowest points, and their connection is unshakable because of it. Marie’s selflessness gave Mac the stability to chase his dreams, and Mac’s determination inspired Marie to carve out her own path in the boxing world. Together, they’ve built a family that doesn’t need blood ties—it’s built on loyalty, love, and the understanding that they’ll always have each other’s backs. They have become each other found family. This gives little Mac someone else to fall back on.

This also gives more of meat to the dynamics Mac has with the other boxers. With a sister he is a target for comments and taunts based off of her. Many times during fights boxers made crude comments towards her, annoying little Mac in the process. He commonly addresses the media about his sister and even the involvements she has been in. Their found family dynamic seems to be pretty heartwarming in the WVBA media.

Sibling moments

Early Morning Training Routine:

Situation

Marie wakes up early in the morning to find Little Mac already up and doing his morning workout in the living room. His usual dedication is evident, and he’s lost in his routine, doing push-ups and jumping jacks.

Marie walks in, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “You know, Mac, you’re gonna wear yourself out before breakfast if you keep doing this.”

Little Mac, without looking up, responds, “You know me. I gotta stay sharp.”

Marie smirks and grabs a towel to hand to him. “I’ll make pancakes after. You want them burnt like last time?”

Mac stops for a moment, giving her a playful glare. “I thought I told you not to bring that up.”

Marie chuckles. “Hey, I’m just saying. Don’t get too cocky. You still have a lot to learn about kitchen skills.”

Little Mac laughs softly, appreciating the banter. “You got it, sis.”

Sibling Mischief:

Situation

Marie and Little Mac are hanging out at home, and Mac is focused on his game, trying to beat his latest high score. Marie quietly sneaks up behind him with a bucket of water balloons, preparing to prank him.

She gently taps him on the shoulder, distracting him for just a second. Little Mac turns around, only for Marie to launch a balloon at his chest, soaking him. “You didn’t see that coming, huh?”

Mac, completely drenched, wipes his face and glares at her. “I should’ve known you were up to something.”

Marie grins and hands him another water balloon. “Well, since you’re all wet, you might as well make it interesting. You throw one at me, and I’ll call it even.”

Little Mac looks at the balloon in his hand, then at Marie, and finally bursts into laughter. “You’re crazy.”

“You know it!” Marie says, getting ready to run.

Grocery Store Chaos:

Situation

Marie and Little Mac go grocery shopping together. It’s a routine task, but they always end up getting distracted by something. Today, Marie is picking out some fruit, and Mac is trying to get a head start on the other items on the list.

Marie picks up a giant watermelon and calls out to him, “Hey, Mac! Think you can carry this back to the cart without dropping it?”

Little Mac, not one to back down from a challenge, confidently strides over to her, attempting to lift the massive watermelon. “Easy.”

But as soon as he tries to lift it, it slips from his hands, and he stumbles backward, almost falling over.

Marie bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Looks like you need to work on your grip strength!”

Little Mac stands up, rubbing his back and pretending to be serious. “Alright, I’m blaming that on the watermelon. It was too slippery!”

Marie offers a hand to help him up. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of excuses. Just be glad it didn’t smash all over the floor.”

Mac laughs and ruffles her hair, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I don’t wrestle you for that.”

Late-Night Movie Marathon:

Situation

After a long day, Marie and Little Mac decide to wind down with a movie marathon, choosing some of their favorite action films. Marie, as the older sibling, insists on picking the first movie, which she knows will be a bit cheesy but fun.

As the movie starts, Mac watches with a half-smile, clearly not fully into it. Marie nudges him, noticing he’s not paying attention. “Hey, come on. You can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this. The fight scenes are amazing!”

Little Mac looks at her with a smirk. “I’m more focused on the fact that this plot makes no sense. You’re really gonna let this go on for two hours?”

Marie grins. “Hey, the explosions make up for it. Besides, it’s fun to laugh at.”

Mac rolls his eyes but can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. You win. Let’s see how ridiculous this gets.”

As the movie goes on, they end up laughing together at the over-the-top action, and Marie can’t help but toss some popcorn at him. “See? Told you this was the best way to end the day.”

Little Mac sighs dramatically but smiles. “You really are impossible.”

Marie beams. “And that’s why you love me, little man.”

Heart-to-Heart Talk:

Situation

Little Mac has been feeling down after a tough training session, and Marie notices that he’s been quieter than usual. She catches him sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights.

Marie sits down beside him, giving him some space but also showing she’s there for him. “You’ve been quiet. What’s going on, Mac?”

Little Mac hesitates before speaking, a rare moment of vulnerability. “I’m just… worried. I’ve been training so hard, but I feel like I’m not getting better. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Marie places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you’re doing great. You’ve come so far. It’s okay to feel frustrated, but remember, you’ve got a lot of people behind you—me included. You’re not alone in this.”

Mac looks at her, appreciating her support, and gives her a small smile. “Thanks, sis. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Marie smiles back, squeezing his shoulder. “Well, you don’t have to figure that out. I’m sticking with you for the long haul, no matter what.”

Little Mac chuckles, “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That’s what sisters are for, right?” Marie says with a wink.

In these moments, Marie and Little Mac show just how close they’ve become as adopted siblings, sharing playful moments, deep conversations, and unconditional support for one another. Their relationship is built on mutual respect, care, and a lot of fun sibling energy.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed this little info dump!! Thanks for reading homies

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for rearranging my brother’s groceries?

I (22M) am a senior in college, and my brother (18M) is a freshman at the same college. I’ll call my brother “Drew.” We’re living together in an apartment close to campus.

Drew and I have never been super close, since we don’t have a lot of interests in common, but we got along pretty well until now. Our parents thought him moving in with me would help him get settled, and I agreed. However, it seems that while Drew has been enjoying his newfound independence from our parents, he’s forgotten that he’s still sharing a living space.

I’ve been living away from my parents for the past two years now, and when I did live with them my room was down the hall from Drew’s so I didn’t hear him much unless our doors were both open. However, at our apartment we share a wall that’s way too thin, so I can hear him talking on the phone. He’s always been into gaming which I never had a problem with, but nearly every night he’s up till 2 or 3am chatting with his online friends. I think it’s great that he has these people, but I have morning classes and need to go to bed by midnight. Drew’s classes don’t start until the afternoon.

Before anyone says to just communicate, I have. I told him that the sound is bothering me and asked if he can try to keep it down after midnight. He kind of brushed me off and quieted down for a few nights, then went right back to normal. I asked my parents to talk to him but they said that this is up to us to figure out. I’ve tried earplugs, white noise, etc and none of it has helped. After our second chat didn’t go anywhere, I decided I would have to do something else.

My first thought was to eat breakfast loudly, but Drew is a very heavy sleeper so this had no impact. I thought about unplugging the router when I go to bed, but figured he would just turn it right back on again. Finally, I came to a solution.

For many years, Drew has always had the same breakfast of eggs and toast. He always eats his eggs in a very specific order from the carton. I decided that for every night he keeps me up late, I will start rearranging his eggs in the carton. The first day I did this he didn’t notice, since he was already running late for class. The next day, however, he texted me very angrily. I told him that until he stopped keeping me up late, I’m going to keep moving his eggs. I kept this up for a week before he started hiding his eggs further into the fridge.

At this point, I decided to escalate a little. Along with moving the eggs around, I started swapping the positions of his bottles and cans one at a time. Still no progress, and the tension in our place was getting more and more intense every day. I even started rearranging the slices of his bread when finally he blew up on me. He told me that having to hunt down his groceries in the fridge every day was making him extremely stressed and interfering with his classes. I replied that not being able to sleep was stressing me out as well. He told me that since a lot of his friends are in other time zones, super late at night is the only time the can talk. At that point I had to go to work and I got a text later from our mom asking me to please try to be more understanding. I don’t feel like I’m an asshole since I already tried to communicate clearly, but what do you guys think?

TL;DR Brother keeping me up past my bedtime, tried to talk to him normally, he didn't listen, so I'm rearranging his groceries as revenge

What are these acronyms?

[seancurry1]

Welcome to Inkspiller. Before we go any further, I want to be clear about one thing: this is not, and never will be, a copywriting course. There are enough of those. You don’t need another course slapped together by someone who completed a course themselves six months earlier. If all you do with what you gain from this newsletter is create another copywriting course, I’ll consider the entire endeavor a failure and close up shop.

Fair enough. What is this, then?

This is a newsletter about building a freelance copywriting career from a guy who’s been compensated for his writing since 2008, and who’s been successfully doing it freelance since he was fired from his last full time job in 2016.

Why are you doing it?

There is a lot of bad advice about freelance copywriting out there. If you’ve found your way here naturally (ie, if you don’t know me personally), then you’ve probably seen it. Starting a freelance copywriting career is hard enough as it is without having to sift through mountains of nonsense grifter BS to figure out which advice is actually worth listening to.

Who is this for?

What frustrates me the most about the majority of copywriting courses available today is how permanently they can turn aspiring writers away from this. If you’ve already paid over a grand to “gurus” and you still can’t figure out how to sign a client or keep them longer than one or two projects, you’re going to call the whole thing a wash and move onto something else.

That breaks my heart! I adore writing, and I value the independence my freelance status grants me over everything else in my professional life. I’m able to be at home and raise my kids, help run our household, and see friends. I’ve traveled more than I ever thought I would, funded a wedding and a house purchase, and paid off a lot of debt. I own my home, my income, and my time, and every time some huckster asshole tricks another newbie into forking over $500 in exchange for a Discord invite and 20 hours of watching someone talk into a webcam while screen-sharing a Google Doc, that path to independence gets closed off for someone else. That sucks.

I’m launching a professional newsletter about copywriting, Inkspiller!

Click to read the first issue, This is not a copywriting course.

And sign up at https://inkspiller.email/ to get these issues in your inbox every week.

[dreamerfms]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { KEZIA KINGSTON } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { she/her } is ? they kind of look like { C.ARLACIA GRANT } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 29 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { 29 years }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { VERONICA MARS } from { VERONICA MARS }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { SURF 'N' SAIL } as a { OWNER }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { REBELLIOUS UNDERDOG } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { RECKLESS } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { LOYAL } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { 2 } apartment beside me over in { OCEANS EDGE }.

full name : kezia ( keh-zee-uh ) kingston nicknames : zia, kingston, kiki ( father only ) birthplace : palmview, florida date of birth : march 22'nd, 1995 parentage : jamar kingston ( incarcerated ) marie-claire hart ( absent since birth ) sibling(s) : potential half-siblings, unknown. occupation : owner of surf 'n' sail relationship status : single gender identity : cis female ( she/her ) sexual orientation : pansexual

background

tw include armed robbery, incarceration, care system.

kezia has spent her entire life in the sunny coastal town of palmview, florida. born and raised in this close-knit community, kezia’s early years were shaped by her single father, jamar kingston, a hardworking man who loved her deeply and did his best to provide for her. however, life took a devastating turn when kezia was thirteen. struggling to make ends meet, jamar became involved in a mass-scale armed robbery that went terribly wrong. though he wasn’t the ringleader and never harmed anyone, he was caught and sentenced to over two decades in prison. the crime was a desperate act from a good man trying to care for his daughter, but the harsh sentence shattered their small family. with no other family to step in, kezia was thrust into the foster care system, a challenging and often isolating experience that forced her to grow up quickly. adapting to life in foster homes wasn’t easy. the sting of abandonment, coupled with the judgmental whispers of a small-town community, turned kezia into an angry and defiant teenager. labelled a troublemaker, she often butted heads with authority figures who wrote her off without ever giving her a chance. though she wasn’t perfect and got into her fair share of trouble, much of her rebelliousness stemmed from frustration at being misunderstood and unfairly judged. despite the challenges, kezia refused to let the world break her, though the fight to stay afloat wasn’t without its scars. when she aged out of the system, kezia decided she would take control of her life. she found solace and strength in the one constant throughout her chaotic childhood: the ocean. surfing and sailing became her escape, a source of peace and empowerment that helped her process her anger and pain. over time, she worked tirelessly to transform her life, learning to channel her energy into something productive. kezia saved every penny she could from odd jobs and eventually took a leap of faith, starting her own business: surf 'n’ sail. her tough upbringing has made her fiercely independent, but it’s also given her a compassionate side. she has a soft spot for kids and teens who remind her of her younger self, and she’s known to offer free lessons or advice to those who need a little guidance. often known for taking in those who are struggling, her home by the ocean has had many lodgers over the years. her relationship with her father remains complicated. though she loves him and understands the desperation that led to his crime, she still feels the weight of his absence in her life. she visits him occasionally and writes letters, but she also uses his story as a reminder to break free from the cycles of hardship that once defined her family. she’s more than her past. she’s a fighter, a survivor, and an entrepreneur with a deep love for her hometown and the ocean that raised her. she may have been knocked down, but she’s proof that with determination and heart, it’s possible to rise again — stronger than ever and ready to face whatever life throws her way.

wanted connections

childhood friend - a childhood friend from kezia's early years in palmview, this person was one of the few who saw past her tough exterior and understood the anger that came from her family’s struggles. though their lives took different directions, they’ve remained connected over the years, often finding themselves drawn back together in times of need. best friend - this person is her rock. always there to offer a listening ear or a word of encouragement when things get tough. with a shared history of overcoming life's challenges, they balance each other out. despite their differences, they’ve forged a bond built on mutual trust, respect, and a deep understanding of one another. ex-friends - from her late teenage years, this person once shared a close bond with her, but as life became more complicated, they chose to distance themselves for their own reasons ( utp ). they turned their back on her at a pivotal moment, leaving lingering resentment and unresolved tension between them all these years later. past romantic interest - a former love interest who knows kezia well and has a past with her, possibly someone she had a complicated or turbulent relationship with. they might still have lingering feelings for each other or have unresolved issues. i hate you, so why do i like you ? - someone who constantly rubs kezia the wrong way, often sparking heated debates or disagreements whenever they cross paths. despite their constant bickering, there’s a palpable tension between them that others can’t help but notice — a mix of rivalry and unspoken attraction that neither is willing to admit. their interactions are often filled with sharp words and challenging glances, but when it matters, there’s a strange undercurrent of care that neither can fully suppress. more tba.

[misfitwashere]

January 19, 2025 

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JAN 20

You hear sometimes, now that we know the sordid details of the lives of some of our leading figures, that America has no heroes left.

When I was writing a book about the Wounded Knee Massacre, where heroism was pretty thin on the ground, I gave that a lot of thought. And I came to believe that heroism is neither being perfect, nor doing something spectacular. In fact, it’s just the opposite: it’s regular, flawed human beings choosing to put others before themselves, even at great cost, even if no one will ever know, even as they realize the walls might be closing in around them.

It means sitting down the night before D-Day and writing a letter praising the troops and taking all the blame for the next day’s failure upon yourself in case things went wrong, as General Dwight D. Eisenhower did.

It means writing in your diary that you “still believe that people are really good at heart,” even while you are hiding in an attic from the men who are soon going to kill you, as Anne Frank did.

It means signing your name to the bottom of the Declaration of Independence in bold print, even though you know you are signing your own death warrant should the British capture you, as John Hancock did.

It means defending your people’s right to practice a religion you don’t share, even though you know you are becoming a dangerously visible target, as Sitting Bull did.

Sometimes it just means sitting down, even when you are told to stand up, as Rosa Parks did.

None of those people woke up one morning and said to themselves that they were about to do something heroic. It’s just that when they had to, they did what was right.

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by a white supremacist, he gave a speech in support of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. Since 1966, King had tried to broaden the Civil Rights Movement for racial equality into a larger movement for economic justice. He joined the sanitation workers in Memphis, who were on strike after years of bad pay and such dangerous conditions that two men had been crushed to death in garbage compactors.

After his friend Ralph Abernathy introduced him to the crowd, King had something to say about heroes: “As I listened to Ralph Abernathy and his eloquent and generous introduction and then thought about myself, I wondered who he was talking about.”

Dr. King told the audience that if God had let him choose any era in which to live, he would have chosen the one in which he had landed. “Now, that’s a strange statement to make,” King went on, “because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land; confusion all around…. But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars.” Dr. King said that he felt blessed to live in an era when people had finally woken up and were working together for freedom and economic justice.

He knew he was in danger as he worked for a racially and economically just America. “I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter…because I’ve been to the mountaintop…. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life…. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

People are wrong to say that we have no heroes left.

Just as they have always been, they are all around us, choosing to do the right thing, no matter what.

Wishing you all a day of peace for Martin Luther King Jr. Day 2025.

—

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 14, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

You hear sometimes, now that we know the sordid details of the lives of some of our leading figures, that America has no heroes left.

When I was writing a book about the Wounded Knee Massacre, where heroism was pretty thin on the ground, I gave that a lot of thought. And I came to believe that heroism is neither being perfect, nor doing something spectacular. In fact, it’s just the opposite: it’s regular, flawed human beings choosing to put others before themselves, even at great cost, even if no one will ever know, even as they realize the walls might be closing in around them.

It means sitting down the night before D-Day and writing a letter praising the troops and taking all the blame for the next day’s failure upon yourself, in case things went wrong, as General Dwight D. Eisenhower did.

It means writing in your diary that you “still believe that people are really good at heart,” even while you are hiding in an attic from the men who are soon going to kill you, as Anne Frank did.

It means signing your name to the bottom of the Declaration of Independence in bold print, even though you know you are signing your own death warrant should the British capture you, as John Hancock did.

It means defending your people’s right to practice a religion you don’t share, even though you know you are becoming a dangerously visible target, as Sitting Bull did.

Sometimes it just means sitting down, even when you are told to stand up, as Rosa Parks did.

None of those people woke up one morning and said to themselves that they were about to do something heroic. It’s just that, when they had to, they did what was right.

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by a white supremacist, he gave a speech in support of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. Since 1966, King had tried to broaden the Civil Rights Movement for racial equality into a larger movement for economic justice. He joined the sanitation workers in Memphis, who were on strike after years of bad pay and such dangerous conditions that two men had been crushed to death in garbage compactors.

After his friend Ralph Abernathy introduced him to the crowd, King had something to say about heroes: “As I listened to Ralph Abernathy and his eloquent and generous introduction and then thought about myself, I wondered who he was talking about.”

Dr. King told the audience that, if God had let him choose any era in which to live, he would have chosen the one in which he had landed. “Now, that’s a strange statement to make,” King went on, “because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land; confusion all around…. But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars.” Dr. King said that he felt blessed to live in an era when people had finally woken up and were working together for freedom and economic justice.

He knew he was in danger as he worked for a racially and economically just America. “I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter…because I’ve been to the mountaintop…. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life…. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

People are wrong to say that we have no heroes left.

Just as they have always been, they are all around us, choosing to do the right thing, no matter what.

Wishing you all a day of peace for Martin Luther King Jr. Day 2024.

[Image of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial in Washington, D.C., by Buddy Poland.]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

When Kristin Batykefer fell ill with a headache, sore throat and body aches, the other women in her house baked her cookies, served her homemade vegetable soup and took her four-year-old daughter to the park so she could rest.

“Support system like no other,” Batykefer, 33, wrote on a TikTok post that has since been viewed more than one million times. “Shoulda moved into a mommune a long time ago.”

Batykefer had no idea that her video — and the concept of mommunes, a group of single mothers sharing a house, bills, childcare and support, seen in the US for the past decade or so — would go viral. When last year she split from her husband and lost her job, an old family friend with grown-up children invited her to move into her house in Jacksonville, Florida, while she found her feet. Then Batykefer was contacted by an old college roommate, Tessa Gilder, 32, who was also going through a divorce, with two children, aged five and one. “Tessa was, like, ‘I can’t do it any more.’ I said, ‘Come here. You’ll be welcomed with open arms.’ Originally our plan was we’d get our own place together, but once she arrived we became like a little family unit and it’s just awesome. Our friends said, ‘Stay as long as you guys want.’ ”

The 1960s and 1970s saw the rise of communes where like-minded souls joined together to raise families in capitalism-defying self-sufficiency. In a 21st-century version, more and more women are channelling the age-old spirit of sisterhood to establish mommunes, to tackle the ever-rising cost of living and everyday motherhood grind. “We just help each other out,” Batykefer explains over Zoom. “It’s not ‘You do the dishes, I’ll take out the trash,’ it’s more when we see something needs to be done we just do it. As a mother that’s just what your instincts are. It’s so nice having three minds in a house thinking like that.”

Indeed, as the thousands of comments on Batykefer’s posts make clear, many women in relationships — even happy ones — are envious of her mommune’s roll-up-your-sleeves environment. “There are some comments saying, ‘My husband does all this for me,’ but about 95 per cent say, ‘Wow, how do I get part of this?’ So many are from married women asking, ‘Where do I drop my husband off? I’m joining!’ ” Batykefer says, laughing. “It resonates because there are so many what we call ‘single married women’ out there who are not getting the kind of help with the physical, mental and emotional labour of being a parent that we have. I definitely didn’t get this support in my marriage, it all fell on me. If I was sick, I still had to cook for us and make sure my daughter was fed and taken care of and entertained.”

Batykefer, who before her break-up was documenting on TikTok her family’s itinerant life on a renovated bus, is also revelling in living in an environment free of marital bickering. “Whenever I would be driving our bus when I was married, it was such a stressful, anxiety-inducing experience because of the negative energy, but I’ve just been on a bus trip with a girlfriend, driving the whole time, and it was so peaceful and amazing.”

There are 2.5 million single-mother families in the UK, according to the Office for National Statistics, a figure that has more than tripled since the 1970s, as the stigma about divorce has decreased and women have gained more financial independence. But several international studies show that single mothers are at greater risk of physical and mental health disorders compared with their married counterparts, mainly as a result of lack of support — with many women living far away from their extended families.

Financial stresses can also be overwhelming, with a recent marked rise in lone-parent families using food banks or relying on benefits. A report last month by the Institute for Fiscal Studies showed that half of such families are now living in relative poverty.

While there are no official, large-scale mommunes in the UK or US, many single mothers are turning to local mommune groups on platforms such as Facebook (the London branch has 700-plus members) to find others to team up with.

Sara Memba, 34, a restaurant worker from Barcelona who has a one-year-old son, is sharing a house with a friend with four children aged between one and eleven in south London after finding that landlords were reluctant to have her as a tenant. “Many don’t trust single mothers to pay the rent on their own or they think your kid is going to destroy their house,” she says. Memba loves her situation. “We can go to work knowing our children are well cared for and it’s great to find a person with whom to talk and share concerns, joys and different, sometimes contradictory, emotions. It’s fun for the children too — they have more playmates and adventures.”

In an ideal world she’d love to see flats built specifically for single mothers. “There’d be common areas and spaces adapted for children to facilitate socialisation between neighbours. It would make a very difficult experience so much easier.”

The author Janet Hoggarth, from East Dulwich, south London — whose latest novel is Us Two — struggled after her divorce from her husband of 11 years, when she was left to bring up her three children, aged five, three and one. When she discovered that her friend Vicki Hillman, who had a newborn, had split from her fiancé, she invited her to move into her attic bedroom. Another single mother of two who lived around the corner frequently joined them in the evenings and stayed at weekends.

“I was feeling utterly bereft. I was navigating a divorce that took ages while juggling the kids and we were all feeling quite traumatised. It was so nice to have another adult there who knew how you felt, who could help me fill out forms, talk to lawyers and bounce ideas off. Plus, when the kids are in bed at night and you’re rolling around the house alone, you have company, which was such a relief because most of my contemporaries were busy with their own families. It stopped my constant feeling of a racing heart and feeling sick in my stomach. It was like a weird miracle drug.”

After two years Hillman moved out because she wanted a bedroom for her daughter but the women are still close friends. “We rubbed along really well without any bitchiness. It was very reassuring, like being in a family, just a different version of it. It really did stop me feeling broken. There’s definitely a different energy in an all-mothers house — there’s no weird bouncing of egos and someone expecting a medal for having wiped down the sides or polishing their halo because they’ve taken the bins out. Everyone just gets on.”

Not all mommunes are so successful. Elizabeth (surname withheld), 34, tried briefly sharing a flat with an old friend in Liverpool, when both had baby daughters. “We thought it would be perfect, but even though we got along well, our babies’ sleeping schedules were completely incompatible, which made it impossible for them to do anything together. I had no child support and had to work crazy hours with a long commute and my baby in a nursery, while she had a generous settlement from her ex and didn’t work. The imbalance made life so much more stressful than it would have been living alone. I felt guilty I couldn’t be around to do more babysitting. I still think mommunes are a brilliant idea, not least because being a single mum is so horribly expensive, but just as with any housemate, you have to find the right person.”

Victoria Benson, chief executive of Gingerbread, a charity for single-parent families that offers local networks for single parents to connect, agrees that mommunes are one “creative solution to a big problem. But we need to see a better welfare system, an increase in flexible work, and more affordable and available childcare that works for all single-parent families.”

Batykefer’s mommune keeps on giving, as demonstrated by the TikToks of her and Gilder enjoying concerts, karaoke and home-spa days together on weekends when their children are with their fathers. Now they’re in discussions about filming a reality show about their set-up, with the hope of bringing in more income but also inspiring more mommunes.

“I just fell into this but it’s such an obvious idea,” Batykefer says. “Women have always helped women. Let’s make it even easier for them.”

[yourreddancer]

Heather Cox Richardson

January 19, 2025

Jan 20

You hear sometimes, now that we know the sordid details of the lives of some of our leading figures, that America has no heroes left.

When I was writing a book about the Wounded Knee Massacre, where heroism was pretty thin on the ground, I gave that a lot of thought. And I came to believe that heroism is neither being perfect, nor doing something spectacular. In fact, it’s just the opposite: it’s regular, flawed human beings choosing to put others before themselves, even at great cost, even if no one will ever know, even as they realize the walls might be closing in around them.

It means sitting down the night before D-Day and writing a letter praising the troops and taking all the blame for the next day’s failure upon yourself in case things went wrong, as General Dwight D. Eisenhower did.

It means writing in your diary that you “still believe that people are really good at heart,” even while you are hiding in an attic from the men who are soon going to kill you, as Anne Frank did.

It means signing your name to the bottom of the Declaration of Independence in bold print, even though you know you are signing your own death warrant should the British capture you, as John Hancock did.

It means defending your people’s right to practice a religion you don’t share, even though you know you are becoming a dangerously visible target, as Sitting Bull did.

Sometimes it just means sitting down, even when you are told to stand up, as Rosa Parks did.

None of those people woke up one morning and said to themselves that they were about to do something heroic. It’s just that when they had to, they did what was right.

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by a white supremacist, he gave a speech in support of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. Since 1966, King had tried to broaden the Civil Rights Movement for racial equality into a larger movement for economic justice. He joined the sanitation workers in Memphis, who were on strike after years of bad pay and such dangerous conditions that two men had been crushed to death in garbage compactors.

After his friend Ralph Abernathy introduced him to the crowd, King had something to say about heroes: “As I listened to Ralph Abernathy and his eloquent and generous introduction and then thought about myself, I wondered who he was talking about.”

Dr. King told the audience that if God had let him choose any era in which to live, he would have chosen the one in which he had landed. “Now, that’s a strange statement to make,” King went on, “because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land; confusion all around…. But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars.” Dr. King said that he felt blessed to live in an era when people had finally woken up and were working together for freedom and economic justice.

He knew he was in danger as he worked for a racially and economically just America. “I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter…because I’ve been to the mountaintop…. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life…. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

People are wrong to say that we have no heroes left.

Just as they have always been, they are all around us, choosing to do the right thing, no matter what.

[potatothots]

MY BELOVED TATO!

It's Halloween! So I'm dropping by with a little something in the spirit of the All Treats, No Tricks celebration!

🎃 - Ask a creator about a current project or WIP.

I think many of us know you for your potato reblog/reaction love, but in the summer we chatted a little about the craft of relationship building for fiction... Can you share any morsels about what you've got cooking or on the back burner?

Ahhhhhh, Aspen-spud! Sorry to get to this a few days late!

I started working on that particular story and it kept evolving. Mostly because I’m working and have a full semester of classes and I write then completely forget what I was writing. AND I KEEP DREAMING about this scene and it just…everything is different it’s so fun. I know it’s also inspired by a bunch of mob!bucky stories I’ve been seeing so far.

Here is an excerpt:

Bucky hated it. He watched you from the mezzinine of your club. You glided effortlessly through the crowd with your sequenced dress that barely covered your ass and stilletos that could either knock out a man or stab him. Your makeup and hair were perfect, even when you stopped to dance with the crowd full of sweaty bodies so close to you.

His grip on the railing tightened. It pissed him off to no end. You were so independent. It was unlike any person he’d been with before.

“You okay there, Buc?”

Bucky glanced at Steve. His long time best friend raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” he lied. “She’s taking too long. She wanted a meeting and yet she’s still down there playing hostess to her fucking club that has employees to do that.”

Steve caught it. He wasn’t trying to be covert about the lie, he just didn’t want to talk about it.

“I thought you said it was just a one nighter with her?” He asked, but the knowing glint in Steve’s eye said he knew.

He knew Bucky too well.

“It was. She wanted this meeting -“

“Buc, you caught feelings.”

Bucky glared at Steve. If his friend was any other man he’d back down. Hell, no one else but Sam would even suggest it.

“Fuck you, Steve.”

“I think you’d rather fuck her.”

He snapped his attention to the sound of heels clicking up the stairs.

“Drop it, punk.” He hissed over his shoulder at Steve.

Steve smirked. “Jerk.”

Bucky sneered at him, then looked back to the stairs. You were standing there, patting your face with a compact he guessed you pulled from thin air. How else could that outfit hold anything. It barely held you.

“Hi boys. We ready?” You asked, smiling brightly.

As soon as you snapped the compact shut a waitress appeared with a tray of drinks. You placed your compact on the tray and took one for yourself. Bucky noticed the other two were for him and Steve. He figured you knew his favorite drink, but Steve’s??

[sisterkosho]

General Headcanons | Nanako Asano

Notes: So as I mentioned before, I’ve been having a bit of Tokyo Revengers brainrot as of late. And after some consideration, I figured I might as well just start letting it all out on here since the fandom still seems to be somewhat active compared to other sites. With that said, I offer you this little headcanon post centering around OC I’m currently working on. She’s still in the early stages of development so everything here is subject to change (and likely will be rewritten later), but for now I kinda just wanted to share the stuff that’s been floating around my brain as I work on her. Enjoy!

Nanako is a delinquent from the Roppongi district known for being particularly close to the Haitani brothers.

She first met the two when she was just 13 after wandering into territory they claimed was theirs. And while she wasn’t affiliated with any gang at the time, she was clearly a delinquent.

As such, the encounter inevitably led to a fight, and although she held her own surprisingly well given the circumstances of a 2 v 1 against boys clearly stronger than she was, she ultimately lost in the end.

However, perhaps because of her impressive skills in combat or her “natural charisma” as he put it, Ran seemed to take a liking to her over the duration of the fight.

Right then and there, he decided that he wanted to keep her around.

He’d have her join them, and nothing was going to change his mind,

This left Nanako… a bit taken aback, to say the least. It was all so sudden, and it sounded more like a demand than an offer. Just who did this kid think he was anyway???

She was fully prepared to tell him off, but once she actually took a moment to consider it… she realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

It may have sounded crazy, but these boys were freakishly strong. So much so that they could easily take over the entire district if they wanted to. In fact, she had no doubt that they would sooner rather than later.

Getting in close with people like that could be the one chance she needed to make it big in the delinquent world, and that… well, that sounded fun.

And considering she did lose a fight against them on their own turf, a part of her felt like it would only be fair to accept. That’s how these kinds of things worked after all.

So from then on, Nanako followed behind them, serving as their right hand. And as expected, it wasn’t long before they had taken over Roppongi.

They became total big shots, and being associated with them gained her quite the reputation amongst delinquents in the area.

After all, the brothers were known for their independence and refusal to be a part of any gang, so for her to have gotten so close to them… she must’ve been something special.

It was thanks to all that that she eventually ended up becoming a part of the S-62 generation on Ran’s recommendation.

A part of her knew that maybe they were going too far by that point, getting involved in things they probably shouldn’t. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Even with the way things had turned out, she was happy. She was having fun. But most importantly, she had people she cared about more than anything in the world.

So when it came down to it, she didn’t care what kind of path she went down. She’d follow them anywhere, no matter what.

From Tenjiku to Bonten, she stood by their side. And never once did she regret a thing.

She was having the time of her life, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world no matter how many hardships they faced. Though really, she felt like she had it made most of the time.

To her, the Haitani brothers are like family.

Rindou is like the little brother she never had.

He started calling her “big sis” as a joke, but it ended up sticking.

She goes drinking with him sometimes and it always ends in shenanigans of some sort.

She always takes the fall so he doesn’t get in trouble.

They’ve played tic tac toe on Ran’s forehead on numerous occasions.

Ran calls her “Nana-chan”.

The two had this sort of unspoken thing going on between them for awhile until Rindou started trying to play matchmaker.

He wasn’t the greatest wingman but somehow it worked out.

In both the Bonten arc and the final timeline, Nanako and Ran ended up married.

In the final timeline, she works as a bartender at the Haitani brothers’ club.