#this has been so much fun i hope my answers are coherent!!!

[selcouth-vast-poet]

late but 9, 19, 27, 33 for the pride asks

YIPPEEE

9. When did you realize you weren't cishet?

at the ripe old age of 12 baybey!!! up until then i actually didnt even care id be called whatever i was called. but at that age i was like. Wait a Minute.

19. Do you feel safe and accepted in your local community?

No!!!!!❤ it depends though i do feel accepted by my friends!!! they are queer too and helped me realize lots of things

27. What gender-neutral terms for yourself or others do you use (i.e. joyfriend)?

cowboy voice Pardner!!(partner) i love using that word for myself or others if they want. also i dont know but does Eldritch Horror count???

33. What about your LGBT identity do you feel proud of/ want to recognize/celebrate?

how versatile my gender idenitty feels. its just so. such a Mystery at times and i absolutely adore it!!!!

[jobean12-blog]

At First Sight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (maybe he's a Mafia/Mob boss, maybe CEO- either way he's too delicious to ignore)

Word Count: 2,248

Summary: You're out to celebrate with friends when something unexpected happens.

Author's Note: We all know I love Mob/CEO Bucky and skirting that mystery line so you can use your imagination here! Honestly, if he approached me like this I'd just be putty in his hands haha 😏thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, Bucky is pretty forward, fun, drinking and mentions of alcohol but everyone is coherent and able to make clear choices, fingering, semi-public sex, curses

“I’m not sure…?”

You look between your two friends, Sadie, and Nia, and blink several times. “Too much?”

They look at each other then back at you.

“Definitely not!” Sadie squeals.

“And besides,” Nia adds, “the limo’s here. Too late to change!”

The space is dark, loud, and filled with moving bodies. You shove your way up to the bar and shout, “excuse me!” hoping to get the bartender’s attention.

With the music so turned up and so many other people slamming the bar, the bartender doesn’t even look in your direction.

“Heyyyy!” you shout with a slap on the bar.

“I’m not sure he heard you.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, you look up at the man pressed close to you at the crowded bar.

He’s tall. And sexy. And gorgeous. And wearing a smirk that screams trouble…in the best way.

“Yelling won’t work doll,” the man says, motioning to the bartender. “It’s just too damn loud.”

You purse your lips as you try to think of a witty comeback but before you can he continues.

“But lucky for you, he’s my friend so I’ll help you order another round of those shots you seem to love.”

“How do you know what I love to drink?” you start, batting your lashes. “Maybe it’s a Whiskey neat.”

You lift your chin and smile sweetly, waiting for his reply.

“You’ve been ordering the same blue shots all night beautiful.”

Your mouth falls open to respond but nothing comes out.

Has he been watching you all night? Creepy or…amazing?

Instead, you stare and take in his features. Perfection.

The bartender comes over and looks at the man beside you expectantly.

“Three fingers of Whiskey, Steve and whatever the beautiful woman is having. She’s been waiting a bit.”

He turns to you, wearing a lopsided smile. “Will you be having Whiskey too?”

“I think I just might,” you tell your new friend.

“And how many fingers would you like doll?”

He watches you with an innocent expression as he spreads his long fingers out on the bar.

“Did you just…?” you stammer.

“Maybe just start with two,” he says.

A playful smile teases his lips, and you can’t help but stare at them.

“Fine, two fingers,” you say the bartender, “of whiskey…,” and then you give the man beside you a demure smile, “and more shots please.”  

“First time here?” the man asks, his gaze sweeping over you.

“How did you know?”

“I’d remember seeing you angel.”�� 

Even with his flirty forwardness you can’t seem to find anything that makes you uncomfortable. His eyes are friendly, and he’s standing close but not too close, just enough so you know he wants to be there to talk to you and only you.

You glance back to search for your friends but can’t find them anywhere.

“What are you celebrating tonight?” he asks when your eyes find his again.

“What makes you think I’m here celebrating anything?”

You raise an eyebrow and hold his stare.

“Do you ever just answer a question?” he counters.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your smile and fire back with, “do you ever stop asking questions?”

He laughs, the action lighting up his face and making his eyes crinkle flawlessly at the corners. It makes your stomach flutter.

You hold each other’s gaze for a beat before he continues.

“All the dancing and drinks…seems like a good time…a celebration.”

“Well, you’re right. My friend just got an amazing promotion at work.”

He smiles triumphantly and you smile back.

“So, there’s no chance you’ll be leaving here with me tonight.”

The bartender sets your drinks down in front of you just as your new eye candy finishes the sentence and you grab for your glass, downing as much as you can before you start to choke.

With a laugh the man takes a long and slow sip of his Whiskey, watching you. You put your half empty glass down on the bar with a dramatic bang and exhale.

“I…what? No!”

“That’s too bad,” he replies.

“You just met me,” you argue.

“And since the moment you walked in you’ve had my full attention,” he admits.

The shots seem to hit you all at once and you sway on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle but strong hand on your arm.

“Easy doll.”

“Ok…stop being so charming. The smiling and the touching… I like it way too much. It makes me want things…and we’ve only just met.”

“What kinds of things?” he asks, voice smooth like silk and deep.

You swallow hard and he tracks the movement of your throat before his eyes linger on your lips.

You gather up the shots for the girls. “We’re going to do these.”

He nods, slowly, his smile growing.

“So…um. I’ll see you later…?”

You wait, hoping he’ll give you his name.

“James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Ok then, see you later Bucky.”

“I sure hope so angel.”

You find your friends at a table, catching their breath, and set down the shots.

“I met the hottest guy.”

Both friends pause with the drinks halfway to their mouths.

“What the hell are you doing here then?” Sadie asks.

“Girl’s night, we’re celebrating,” you say. “Duh.”

“Fuck that, go dance with the hot guy!” Nia shouts.

You lift your glass to your lips and shake your head. “No way, I’m here to dance with you all! Let’s go!”

You polish off the shot, wait for them to do the same then hold out your hands to pull them onto the dance floor.

The beat of the music surrounds you and you let go, forgetting routine and responsibility and just enjoying the moment.

Sadie yells something to you about the song that just started but you don’t quite catch it. Just behind her, set in the shadows off the side of the bar stands Bucky.

Your eyes meet and neither of you look away.

He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised to be caught staring at you. Every inch of your skin heats and when he lifts his glass, takes a sip, and smiles, you smile back…and start to move…just for him.

The hem of your dress inches higher as you lift your arms above your head, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music and getting lost in it. Your friends move closer and lean in.

“You’ve attracted an audience,” Sadie chuckles.

She whips her head to the side to point out the group of guys moving closer. You ignore the group and search the shadows for Bucky but he’s nowhere to be seen.

With unexpected disappointment you grab Sadie and tell her you need to use the ladies room, weaving your way though the crowd and off the dance floor. You follow the signs to the second floor, which is essentially a balcony overlooking the rest of the space.

After freshening up you walk out of the door and right into something hard. Bucky grips your biceps lightly, holding you close.

“You ok?” he asks.

You were standing close to him at the bar, but not this close, not close enough to smell his skin and feel the rise and fall of his chest. It makes you heady, but you manage a nod.

“Hi angel,” he smiles.

“Hi.”

“I was enjoying watching you dance.”

“I noticed.”

You hold his gaze, unable to look away. Down at the bar it was hard to tell the color of his eyes, but here, hidden away, even in the low light you can see they’re beautiful. The blue is like the ocean on a sparkling sunny day. Mesmerizing.

“Do you know what watching you does to me?”

You blink, trying your hardest to keep up with his directness.

He reaches down to take your hand, his grip loose and his movements tentative, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

When you don’t he presses it firmly to where he’s hard and aching.

“All this?” you ask in a breathy whisper. “Just from watching me?”

“Come home with me.”

You let out a little giggle.

“No. I can’t.”

“Come to my car then.”

“I’m not leaving this club with you.”

Even as you hear yourself say the words you know they aren’t holding the force you want them to.

He bends and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“But I’m dying to touch you.”

It’s impossible to pretend you don’t want the same thing and you place your palms on his chest and push him backward into the darkness.

“Is that a yes?” he asks as he runs a long finger over the curve of your shoulder.

“You aren’t some psycho are you?”

With a chuckle he moves closer, brushing his lips along your cheek. “You make me feel a bit crazy doll, but no, I’m not.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head, whispering against his lips, “something tells me I can trust you.”

He moves willingly, and meets you with a smile, pressing his lips to yours.

“You taste as good as you look angel. What’s your name?”

“My name?” you whisper, so caught up in the feel of him you almost forgot.

“You know my name, so you’ll know what to call me when you’re about to come. It’s only fair I do the same.”

You let out a little gasp and hold onto his shoulders more tightly.

“I…,”

You feel his smile against your mouth before he turns you and presses your front to the edge of the balcony overlooking everything below.

He takes your chin between his fingers to turn your head and steal another kiss, lingering until you whisper your name against his lips.

With a satisfied smile his fingers tease the edge of your dress and then he lifts it, sliding his hands down between your legs to rub along your panties.

“You’re so wet. And all for me angel.”

You moan loudly when he slides a long finger inside you and presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs into your ear as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.

You turn and look at him. His eyes are wide open and clear. He teases you more, watching your every reaction then turns you to face him and drags you against the wall, bending to kiss you, hard and hungry.

“Someone could come down here,” he reminds you, meeting your eyes, giving you one last out.

You don’t care. He’s too perfect. He feels too good.

When you don’t protest he kneels at your feet and carefully pushes up your dress, hooking his thumbs into your panties to slowly drag them down.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, standing and lifting your leg to spread you open.

Reaching between your bodies, you open his jeans and push them down along with his boxers. You grab for him, rubbing him through your arousal.

“Fuck doll, wait. I need to put this on.”

He reaches behind him and fumbles for the back pocket of his jeans, pulling a condom free.

“You’re big,” you whisper, loving the feel of his warm, silky skin.

His grin is wolfish. “That’s the best thing you could say to me.”

You run your closed hand along the length of him again, letting the tip just bump your clit.

“Fuck, keep that up and I’ll be coming all over your hand.”

His fingers are unsteady as he works to slip the condom on.

“Have you done this before?” you ask, unable to keep your eyes off his cock.

“Have sex with a beautiful woman in a public space?”

He starts to push into you, achingly slowly. “No angel, I’ve never done this before…but with you, I’ll take what I can get.”

His words die away when he’s fully inside you, rubbing against your clit with each stroke and filling you so completely. You grip his shoulders as his thrusts grow faster.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

He leans back and looks down between your bodies, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second before he starts to move faster.

When he leans down to kiss you he slows his movements, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in. The slow pace doesn’t last long, and he hitches your leg higher to go deeper.

You feel your release building in your stomach and it’s only a few seconds more before a cry falls from your parted lips.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, his hips moving jaggedly and rough before he comes with a deep groan.

He leans heavily against you, pressing his lips to your neck. “You’ve wrecked me angel.”

His hand is gentle when it smooths along your leg, and he pulls out. You straighten your dress as he rolls off the condom.

“That was perfect Bucky,” you hum, meeting him for a kiss.

He nods, dazed. “You’re ok?”

“Better than ok,” you answer. “And I think I’m ready for another dance.”

His lips twitch with a surprised grin and you turn away before he can respond, leaving him standing with his pants still unbuttoned.

A few minutes later you find Sadie and Nia, both ready to head home. And it isn’t until you’re sitting in the quiet of the limo, reliving every second of what happened with Bucky, that you realize you’d left your panties on the floor at his feet.

[sophrosynesworld]

Caught Red Handed

Eijiro Kirishima x Best Friend! Reader

"Kiri," you giggle, giving him a playful smack on the back of the head before tilting it forward to apply the bright red dye. Your fingers part his thick hair with practiced ease. “Hold still or I’ll end up coloring your whole neck. I’d hate to expose your dirty little secret.”

“I can’t help it.” He pouts, frowning just enough to be endearing. “I like when you run your fingers through my hair… it feels nice.”

You can’t help but hum in amusement, threading your fingers through his crimson strands again, this time deliberately to tease him.

He leans slightly into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he catches himself, opening them again. "You don’t think that’s weird, do you?" His voice is softer as he catches your reflection in the mirror. His expression unusually serious.

You pause, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. Placing the dye brush back into the bowl. "No. I like doing it."

Kirishima’s eyes widen with genuine surprise as he turns in his seat to look at you directly. “You do?”

“Oh yeah,” you answer, rolling your eyes dramatically. “This is all for my pleasure.”

His face falls, and he slumps back into the chair, his posture suddenly defeated. "Now you’re just making fun of me." His voice is quieter, tinged with disappointment.

You frown, feeling a pang of guilt. “Hey… Eijiro,” you say gently, reaching out to nudge him, but he refuses to meet your eyes, staring down at his feet.

You sigh, pulling off the gloves with a snap. Squatting down beside him, putting yourself at eye level. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” You search his face for any sign of acknowledgment, but he stays silent, his expression unreadable.

“Kiri, I promise I wasn’t lying.” You lean forward slightly, hoping to get his attention. “I really do like it. I wasn’t joking about that part.”

Still, no response. His silence weighs on you. Kirishima has always been sensitive, especially when it comes to his insecurities, but this feels different.

Then it hits you. You stand, brushing the dirt from your knees, and mumble, “I thought it was kinda manly…”

At first, it feels like the words were lost to the air, but when you look back at him, his eyes are already locked on yours.

Kirishima rises slowly, his towering frame casting a shadow over you as he takes a deliberate step closer.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” you try to brush it off, laughing nervously, but the sound dies in your throat as he closes the distance between you. You step back instinctively, your back hitting the cold wall. His broad shoulders and chest block out everything behind him, forcing the space to feel much smaller.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his voice low. He’s so close now, you can feel the heat radiating off him.

Your pulse quickens, your heart thudding in your chest so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. Swallowing hard, your eyes look up into his. “I… I think admitting that was pretty manly of you,” you stammer, feeling your face flush.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with such gentleness it makes your breath hitch. His thumb brushes over your skin, slow and tender.

“Do you really think that?” he asks again, his voice hushed, like he’s afraid of the answer.

You nod, speechless as his fingers tighten just slightly, pulling you even closer. Without thinking, your hands rise, trembling, wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. The need to reassure him, to prove that this moment is real, overwhelms you.

You pinch yourself lightly behind his back, the small sting grounding you. This is happening.

“I’ve always wanted to be someone you’d see that way,” he confesses softly, his lips brushing your hair as he speaks. His voice thick with doubt. Kirishima lingers there, waiting, hoping for something from you.

You pull back slightly, your mind spinning, unable to form a coherent thought. “I…” You try to speak, but the words are lost.

Kirishima speaks for you, his voice soft. “Can I kiss you?”

The question catches you off guard. You stare at him, the world narrowing down to just this moment, just him. All you can manage is a small nod, your lips parting slightly.

He leans in slowly, his forehead pressing gently against yours as he whispers, “I need to hear you.”

His voice is so full of patience, that it nearly breaks you. He’s holding back, giving you the space to decide.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but it’s all he needs.

Eijiro’s lips meet yours in a rush of pent-up emotion, the kiss hungry and desperate, like he’s been holding back for so long and now he’s finally letting it all out. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. Everything else fades away, the world around you blurring until it’s just him, just this.

Your fingers weave through his hair instinctively, tugging lightly—only to freeze when you feel something slick.

You pull back with a sudden gasp, your eyes wide as you stare down at your hands. They’re stained bright red. “Oh my God!” you blurt, jumping in surprise as your hands fly into the air as if they’re burning.

Kirishima blinks at you, confused, before a slow, amused grin spreads across his face. “I guess we’ll have to wash your hands,” he chuckles.

You stare at your hands, still in shock, your face burning with embarrassment. “I… I didn’t think about it,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes.

With a gentle smile, he reaches for your wrists, lowering your hands between the two of you. His thumb strokes soothing circles over your skin as he reassures you. “It’s okay. Really.”

You look up at him, still embarrassed. He chuckles softly. “I guess everyone’s gonna find out about my hair now, huh?”

“Kiri!” you groan, but you can’t help but smile as he laughs again.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, still grinning. “It’ll be fine."

[samuelsdean]

New Favorite Game

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: maybe a part of spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. and spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner. (part 1 to new favorite banter, but this can be read as a standalone.)

genre: smut (minors dni!)

warnings: smut without plot, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dom/sub undertones, slightly mean!spencer, rough sex, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, mating press & doggy style (tell me if i forgot to add something!)

word count: 0.8k

author's notes: my first ever smutty piece! i'm kinda happy with how it turned out but considering it's my first time writing smut, i know i have lots to improve on. however, i hope everyone will still like this. with that said, please tell me your thoughts about this & minors do not interact (please)! anyway, have fun reading!

PART TWO

SPENCER CAN’T BELIEVE THERE’S A PART OF HIM THAT ENJOYS SEEING YOU CRYING. It’s cruel. Sadistic, yet he can’t help it. The sight of you wailing, begging him for more, begging him to go harder, deeper gets him going.

Pounding you into the sheets, Spencer thinks he just died and entered heaven with how delicious your cunt has tightened. Your cries and moans are so loud, he’s certain he’s getting a noise complaint in the morning. His very first one, considering he’s rarely home and he’s a stickler for rules.

Plus, he never thought he had it in him to make a woman cry out in pleasure.

He’s not Morgan, who, when compared to him, is very experienced in that department. Derek always had a line of girls whenever the team went out for drinks until he met Savannah. Nowadays, Derek is a one-woman kind of guy.

Spencer is definitely unlike Rossi, who had a revolving door of spouses, no offense meant. Of course, Rossi knew a lot of things when it comes to women.

Spencer is not like Hotch, for certain. Hotch is a father, of course, he knows a thing or two about the many ways in the acts of sexual prowess.

So, when the night with you took a steamy turn, Spencer didn’t think he’d be able to bend you over the table, pound you into the mattress, and blow your back out in just one night. He thought it’d be done so soon but no.

You were insatiable.

You weren’t content with just simple foreplay and fucking him in one position. You were relentless and Spencer was eager to please you.

Spencer was eager to get lost in your body.

And now, Spencer has you on your back, legs folded toward your chest, as he fucked you into total submission. His strokes were so deep, he could feel his tip nudging your cervix. He knows you’ll be sore by the time the sun rises but he can’t help it. It feels so good to be buried deep inside you.

This might just be Spencer’s favorite position. He gets to pound you relentlessly. He has you at his mercy as he burrows into you rhythmically, entirely, while seeing your face wet with fresh tears as his sweat beads and trickles down to you.

He likes that he gets to see how much of a mess he has made when he looks down and sees himself entering your cunt, hearing the sloppiness and the sound of sloshing.

God, you were so wet. How is that possible? How could someone get that wet? Spencer knows the answer but he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it when he has your body writhing under him.

“More, Spencer,” You sob as you fisted the sheets you laid on, writhing and moving your hips in time with Spencer’s. “P-please, baby. I’m so close. Shit, close, fuck!”

“You feel so good.” Spencer groans in response, punctuating each word with a deep thrust, causing you to whimper, slight drool rolling down the side of your lips. “Is that what you want?”

Too lost in the pleasure, your eyes roll so far back, your body moving to your own accord. You couldn’t hear what Spencer has just said. You couldn’t even begin to process a single syllable he has uttered. Not a single coherent thought going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. 

Spencer, although exhilarated that he has reduced you to just a pile of gyrating flesh, does not like the lack of response at all. Grunting, he flips your body over which caused him to slip out in the process.

“No. No. No.” You whine pathetically, cunt trying to clamp down on him as you feel him slip out. You scratch whatever you could get your hands on in protest. The sheets. The pillows. Spencer. “Y-you’re m-me—shit—mean, Spence. P-please! Cum! I wanna cum! Please!”

“Mean?” Spencer glowers mid-thrust, gripping your hips hard enough to leave purple bruises you’ll be sporting for at least a week. 

He’s being mean? Hasn’t he done everything you’ve asked for tonight? He has given in to all of your demands, prolonging your pleasure, and reducing you to tears, but he’s being mean?

“You want mean, princess?” Spencer asks as you sobbed, trying to get him to move but his hands hinder you from doing so. His cock deliciously pressed against that one spot inside of you. But it wasn’t enough. You want the entirety of him inside you. You want to be filled up to the brim. Your cunt molded to the shape of his cock. “I’ll show you mean.”

Maybe a part of Spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. And Spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner.

This might just be Spencer’s new favorite game. Pleasuring you until you become a boneless, mindless, and thrashing mess.  

And he always gets what he wants.

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮        Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)        Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.        Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship        Word Count: ~2500 words       Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”        Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)             Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

[nyoomerr]

Incoming prompt, if you don't already have enough! Bingqiu or Bingyuan, either is fine. Binghe is in the kitchen, cooking. Sy (or Sy!Sqq) comes up and maybe hugs him from behind while Binghe is forming dumplings or whatever and, for the very first time, jokingly calls him wife. At least he tries to make it sound like he's joking, but it comes across yearning, entirely too serious. Binghe, too, doesn't laugh. It's a bit too close to what he desperately wants to be, it hits way too close to his heart. So theyre both just standing there, silent, testing out the feel of it and being aware that the other one is just as affected.

The feeling of that scene could be tender and a bit fragile and silently intimate, full of unspoken feelings?

But yeah, feel free to disregard that if you don't want to write it or change it as you see fit^^ Have a nice day<3

zar u know i'll always write goodies for u if u ask 😘😘

---

It - it really had been a joke, Shen Yuan swears! He’d only wanted to poke fun of Luo Binghe a bit, this great and fearsome demonic emperor who’d crossed entire worlds just to stand in Shen Yuan’s dingy kitchen and make dumplings. 

Luo Binghe was even wearing that stupid frilly pink apron he’d found shoved in one of Shen Yuan’s drawers - a gag gift that Shen Yuan hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to actually give to Luo Binghe, but that Luo Binghe himself seemed quite pleased with as soon as he’d learned it was, indeed, for him. Dressed up like that, diligently working on dinner hours in advance, wasn’t that basically asking for Shen Yuan to come play with him a bit??

So Shen Yuan had only wanted to have a bit of fun, nothing serious!! Nothing serious, okay?!! 

…But ah, why was it that when Shen Yuan came up behind Luo Binghe, tugging playfully at the frills of his apron and then dancing his fingers up further to tug at his hair, too -

“What are you, ah, my wife?”

- why was it that his words didn’t sound nearly playful enough for what he was asking?!!

Luo Binghe’s fingers stutter around the dumpling he’d been folding, making it come out a bit lopsided and misshapen. He clears his throat, delicately setting the dumpling down. Shen Yuan still has his hand in Luo Binghe’s hair.

“...Could I?” Luo Binghe asks, a bit too quiet.

“Um!” Shen Yuan says, quickly dropping his hand from Luo Binghe’s hair. “Um! …Sorry, could you… what, exactly?”

Surely, Luo Binghe didn’t mean - that is, he was probably just asking for permission to menace Shen Yuan a bit in exchange for having been poked fun of, right? Hahahahaha -

Luo Binghe turns his head to peer over his shoulder at Shen Yuan. The angle makes it look like he’s looking out from under his lashes, and the heat of the kitchen seems to have painted his cheeks pink even though the oven isn’t on right now.

“Could I be your wife?” Luo Binghe asks, and Shen Yuan very suddenly feels like all the breath has been punched right out of his lungs. “You - you’d let me marry you?”

Shen Yuan spends several long moments with his mouth flapping open and closed like a fish. That - no way, right??

“I think,” Shen Yuan wheezes, “I think I misheard you?”

Luo Binghe turns around fully to face Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan manages to have one single coherent thought about the way this position - Shen Yuan pressed in close to Luo Binghe, Luo Binghe trapped between him and the counter - really feels like the setup for a bad porno.

“Could I marry you?” Luo Binghe asks again, and - wow! Wow, Luo Binghe’s face is - um! Wow! 

“No?” Shen Yuan says, though it sounds strangled and not at all like a firm answer.

“Oh,” Luo Binghe says, and suddenly the expression he’d been wearing before - his eyes blown wide and cheeks pink and his mouth parted just slightly with what could only be apprehension and hope and a thrill - suddenly Luo Binghe looks much, much less happy.

“It’s against the law!” Shen Yuan rushes to clarify, his hands flying up to hover uselessly over Luo Binghe’s cheeks. He wants to - ah, he wants to - to help?? He wants to make that face go back to what it looked like before, ah! “It’s - in this world, um, that is - you couldn’t marry me. Because it’s, uh, against the law.”

Luo Binghe tilts his head, considering. “Marriage?”

“Not all, just - between two. Uh, two men. Or two women. Or - uh, yeah, just the gay ones. Are illegal.”

Luo Binghe draws his bottom lip in, just slightly, chewing on it. Shen Yuan wants to chew on it too. Fuck.

“I could say I’m a girl?” Luo Binghe offers, and Shen Yuan -

Shen Yuan very quickly turns around so he doesn’t have to look at Luo Binghe as he rallies himself. Focus, focus, do NOT think about that -!

“That would be worse,” he manages to get out, embarrassingly breathless. “I mean - uh, they wouldn’t believe you. You’d just end up harassed.”

Luo Binghe hooks his head over Shen Yuan’s shoulder, nosing into his cheek. Shen Yuan shivers, even though he is suddenly several degrees warmer than he’d been seconds ago.

“But if it was allowed,” Luo Binghe says, his breath fanning over Shen Yuan’s cheek, “I could marry you? I could be your wife?”

Shen Yuan’s knees buckle. Luo Binghe, ever attentive, catches him around his waist before he can really fall, and pulls him in even closer. The line of their bodies pressed together - Shen Yuan’s thighs, his hips, the whole length of his back - feels unbearably warm. 

Marriage feels - that’s a lot. Of everything. A lot of Luo Binghe - Luo Binghe would want to spend his whole life with Shen Yuan - a lot of - well, marriage seems quite a bit more gay than just roommates who share a bed and all their meals and sometimes get each other off.

“Please?” Luo Binghe asks, and - fuck!!

“Yes!” Shen Yuan says, as if the answer has been punched right out of him. “Yes, yes, of course - I mean, if you’d really want - I mean, we can’t, but -”

Luo Binghe presses a wet kiss on Shen Yuan’s cheek, humming happily. Shen Yuan’s jaw snaps closed with an audible click.

“Okay,” Luo Binghe says, pulling away from Shen Yuan. He doesn’t take his hands off Shen Yuan just yet, which Shen Yuan is grateful for - he isn’t quite sure he’d be able to stand on his own, right now.

“Okay,” Shen Yuan repeats, far more breathlessly than Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe hums again, clearly amused, and then uses his grip on Shen Yuan to lift him and place him on an empty, mostly clean of flour section of the kitchen counter.

“Sit here,” Luo Binghe says, patting Shen Yuan’s knee. “Your wife is going to go get Xin Mo from the closet, and then we will go visit my world for a bit.”

“For - for how long?” Shen Yuan splutters, off balance from the seemingly non-sequitur and not at all from Luo Binghe calling himself ‘wife.’ 

“For about as long as it takes to get married,” Luo Binghe answers, grinning wide, and - 

Ah. Fuck. I’ve been played, Shen Yuan despairs, and then has to slap his hands over his face so he can pretend he doesn’t have a grin just as big and stupid on his own face. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Jessie lying wetly encouraged me to actually work on my WIP instead of just daydreaming. I hope you keep working on it and having fun 👍. Unrelated, but how long would it take Jessie to get cancelled online/has that already happened? She has big 'tumblr deity for two weeks until people realize she's an actual person and get Tumblr about it' energy

wowwwww yay yay yay let's go writing energy 🔥 🔥 🔥

also wow love this question thank you. to my mind Jessie is EXTREMELY online frequently to her own detriment. she spends a Lot of time name searching herself and Jonas and Ricochet to see what people are saying about them and she will start snippy little fights with anybody over anything, especially right now when she's extra sad and just needs to feel something.

crucially she is Not doing that as Frostbite but as some random fan who just comes across as extremely obsessed. the only place where she publicly posts as Frostbite is on twitter (or whatever this universe's equivalent of twitter is, I do want to go through and scrub all the real social media names and replace them with cutesy alternatives eventually), where people do regularly get extremely extremely mad at her for both the actual crimes and for being a hot fat girl having fun. she actually doesn't get in fights much on that account because she keeps it very "in character" and Frostbite is Not supposed to care, but she does have like half a dozen rigorously maintained sock puppet accounts for harassing people who piss her off.

she is def on tumblr but I think that's pretty detached from her villain stuff, and I think she used it much less now than she did as a teenager; she probably dipped for a while around the porn ban but will still come back from time and time. she's into a lot of superhero RPF smut (NEVER about anyone she knows) that's extremely controversial so you Know she's getting in fights about that but she'll also throw down with people over, like, Ru Paul's drag race opinions.

most of her online activity these days is spent in the trenches of superhero reddit and like old school forums built by her reddit buddies, where nerds fight about various heroes and villains and try to figure out what their costumes are made of, how their powers work, who's hooking up with who, etc. Jessie's not out as Frostbite in any of those spaces; she's been active since she was a deeply obsessed teenager and only got more involved after she started supervillainy herself.

tl;dr she's not AS cancelled as you'd think but she is extremely extremely confrontational pretty much everywhere. Jessie hasn't realized it yet but she's kind of like a herding dog, by which I mean she's too smart for her own good and just starts destroying things when she's understimulated.

I hope this is like. a somewhat coherent answer.

[te3mo]

alright now that ive settled back into the land of tumblr as i eagerly search for more father paul content id like to drop my thoughts that i had written down as i finished the finale because oh👏🏻my👏🏻god👏🏻

the entire show was brilliant, but im specifically discussing pruitt here bc im a hopeless romantic and his interpersonal tragedy moved me the most.

spoilers duh

The revelation that this entire mess erupted only from a lifelong desire to somehow reunite with Millie and Sarah was agonizing to me. The God fearing priest feared death above all.

I've been on Reddit and watching reaction videos on YouTube and nobody seems to be touching on Pruitt and Millie the way I wished they would. I know we didn't get much content regarding their story in the show - only the brief reconnection under tragic circumstances in the finale - and I do wish I knew more, had more detail, but I think the fact it was left so fleeting and vague made it all that more sombering in the end. In so little time, it was shown how deeply he adored her; always had, always would. Of course there are several brief moments throughout the entire series that indicate such, but we can't truly put all the pieces together until the end.

Mildred immediately recognizing him despite her limited coherency due to her advanced dementia. The way he tears up simply sitting beside her for her first in-home communion and gently adjusts her blanket.

The way he interacts with Sarah whenever he sees her - staring at her from a distance, which Sarah comments he has done her entire life and assumes it was with judgment and perception that she is a sinner, since she is a lesbian. But no, it was always the opposite. He gazed from a distance out love and a yearning to be by her side raising her - and at the Crock Pot Luck now, he gazes as he always had but this time with the desperate hope that he will get a second chance.

He tells Sarah he's proud of her when any opportunity arises. Proud of her for caring for the community - she isn't "just doing her job," she is simply a wonderful human being. Proud of her again, he says, when she douses the church in gasoline. His flesh and blood he has admired from her birth despite not being the one to care for her and watch her grow from the perspective of an active father - he is so proud of her. He was always so proud of her. No matter what she did, he was proud of her.

Millie begins to regress in age, and Sarah continuously tests her cognition - is her mother really "here" now? How aware is she, truly? And when she asks her what her father's name is, Mildred hesitates. She is clearly coherent at this time, she so quickly confirmed that her childhood chores were the dishes and her rebellious youth was for boys and booze, but when Sarah asks what her father's name was, she hesitates. Sarah has to press for the answer - although it is a brief hesitation, it is a hesitation nonetheless.

When Pruitt returns for her in-home communion and meets her upstairs this time, there is something to be said even just in his body language as he leans casually against the door threshold, smiles at her with such warmth, saying that Sarah informed him she was feeling better. Followed by the way Millie shakily says his name in disbelief and then the way they hold hands while he ecstatically exclaims he has so much to tell her. He sounds like a giddy child with so much fun news to share; I interpret his thoughts as something akin to "I've lived such a long life wishing you could have been by my side, but let me tell you all about it since you weren't."

The finale. My God, the finale. Their conversation as they sit alone in the church now burdened with blood. "It was you," he said. The only thing he ever wanted was her, but she never asked him to take off the collar. She never would have - she clarified this. Everything he ever did, this entire disaster, was all because of her. He wanted a second chance; he wanted a true miracle. A true miracle, to him, was the ability to be together with Mildred again and love their daughter together. His commentary that Mildred was never a sin, never a mistake. That Sarah was never a sin, never a mistake. That he would have done anything for his Millie; he would have gone anywhere in the world with her.

Sarah's death. Hamish's acting is just *chef's kiss* in every damn episode, mostly through how passionately he expresses himself. Constantly. Every episode. But the sheer horror on his face at the sudden sound of a gunshot from behind him and Sarah immediately being struck down, and his impulse is to chase Sturge down and tackle him and kill him. There was no thought process to this - this was an act of pure impulse stemming from turmoil. It was an act to protect his daughter - IMMEDIATELTY eradicate the threat to her (though she is obviously already mortally wounded). Mildred runs in, crying for her baby girl, and Pruitt desperately tries to force his blood into her mouth as a last ditch effort to "save" her, but even in death Sarah does not want this. This is not resurrection, this is a curse, and so she rejects it and dies. She dies while, for the first time in her life, seeing both her mother and father right over her. Together.

The way Pruitt carries his daughter out of the church in silence. Mildred stays behind briefly only to ignite the church, which Sarah had already flooded with gasoline. And then they walk together and sit on the bridge, which Millie had explained was Sarah's favorite spot as a little girl.

While Pruitt caresses the face of the daughter he so dearly wanted to openly love and cherish, he rips off his clerical collar. He tosses it away without care. Mildred never asked him to take it off and never would have, and on his own accord, he finally does. His daughter is dead, and the rest of them will all be dead soon, too. The prayers for his miracle went unanswered. He will not get his second chance.

And as the sun rises and the island burns, he asks not God for forgiveness, but Mildred.

I loved every aspect of this show. I have no complaints. I imagine I will rewatch this multiple times. It has been a while since I've been so emotionally impacted by a piece of media. I loved the dynamic between Riley and Erin, I loved Leeza forgiving Joe Collie, I sobbed during Riley's sacrifice and I loved Sarah's character long before suspecting the dynamic between her and Pruitt. I loved every symbol in the entire series.

But above all, I loved the love Pruitt had for Mildred.

Anyways pls do follow me if you're as obsessed as I am, I haven't been active on here in years but Tumblr has always been great for fangirling and this seems like a great time to write fanfiction again.

[paintingwhiteceilings]

Can you do Male Reader X EXO?

So, its basically when either Male reader or an EXO member is struggling with his homework.

❃EXO and helping with your school/uni work ❃

A/N: Heyyy, I am so sorry this took as long as it did. I had to take some time off of posting on Tumblr as I am about to start my graduation process for my RMA. In a way, it was super cathartic to write this prompt so it became a bit of a mix between school and uni work, I hope you don't mind :')

Regarding male x-readers: I try to keep my prompt as gender-neutral as possible, mostly so anyone can insert themselves regardless of whether they identify as male, female, non-binary, etc. However, I am totally open to doing any LGBTQIA+-specific prompts, so feel free to do so!

Xiumin/Minseok:

✾ Considering this man is rumoured to have a PhD (although not specified in what), you would think that he would be an amazing person to have around when you are struggling through your homework/coursework. However, being smart doesn’t always equate to being able to offer understandable explanations.

✾ His brain skips so many steps when he is tackling a problem or working on an essay. He knows why something is right or wrong, but he can’t really explain how he got to his answers. It comes so naturally to him that he struggles to dissect his thought processes and convey them to someone else.

✾ Ultimately, he will convince you to email your teacher/professor; they can explain it much better than he can, anyway. After having corresponded so often with professors during his own studies, he is more than capable of helping you with formulating your email in such a way that they would agree to help you out.

✾ Still, after having studied as much as he has, he understands the struggle of keeping up with homework/coursework. Considering he got his degrees whilst being an idol, he is incredible at planning his work efficiently. Thus, he instead offers to help you with creating a schedule, giving you a more healthy work-life balance.

Suho/Junmyeon:

✾ Well, considering that he has an MA in Cultural Management and talked at Stanford (plus it has been proven time and time again that Suho is incredibly intelligent), he is one of the best members to go to if you ever struggle with your homework/coursework. He strikes me as someone who, although they are incredibly smart, can explain his inner thoughts very well.

✾ Give him a whiteboard, and he will shine. Don’t ask me why, but I can totally imagine him being one of those people that is convinced that “you have to visualize things. Write it down to have more space in your head to think.” Does that work? Maybe. Is it annoying to be told time and time again to “just draw it”? Yes.

✾ If he isn’t familiar with the topic/class that you are struggling with, he will take time out of his busy schedule to familiarize himself with it. He will find a couple of sources or a handbook so that he can read up on it.

✾ A part of him enjoys studying and learning together, smiling the entire time as you do so. Despite your own stress on why you can’t seem to work through the problem/assignment, you can’t help but return his quiet enthusiasm.

Baekhyun:

✾ Another member who went to university to get his degree (although I can’t find out whether he has a BA or MA, sources are so incredibly vague) and is probably used to studying whilst being unbelievably busy. Furthermore, Suho has said before that although Baekhyun tends to be the mood maker of EXO on camera, Baekhyun is a deep thinker and has many philosophical conversations with him in private. Therefore, I can imagine him being another member who would be good at conveying his thoughts very well, offering you a coherent explanation.

✾ He would be an expert on making studying fun. Instead of having to cram a bunch of facts or read a long dry article for your next class, he would find a way to gamify it, turning it from a long boring study session into a fun competition. Although he might not be a huge help regarding the content of your class, he would help you to keep your motivation while studying.

✾ At the same time, I can totally see Baekyhun being a massive distraction while studying. You will be trying to solve a problem or work on that lengthy essay, and Baekhyun keeps trying to get you to pay attention to him, as he is too restless to sit still and study. He strikes me as someone who tries to convince you to do it tomorrow instead.

Chen/Jongdae:

✾ He has an MA in Media Advertisement so you can bet that he can sell a story. I am pretty sure Media Advertisement falls under either business or communication studies, so he will probably be not too shabby at statistics either. He will, therefore, not only sell you on why studying this particular subject is fun, but he will also be able to help you actually study the contents of most math-based subjects.

✾ Chen probably is too busy to delve deeply into the subject matter that you are trying to grasp, though. He will try, nonetheless, to work through it with you. He will sit next to you as you try to solve equations, and although he might not have mastered the theory himself, he will try to learn it with you, giving you a fresh set of eyes.

✾ I think rather than being incredible at explaining stuff, he would be an amazing person for emotional support. I can see him prioritize calming you down first and having you take a step back from studying to clear your head. He would make sure that you stay hydrated and fed while studying, preparing a bunch of snacks beforehand that he will hand out as a reward for making it through another chapter.

Chanyeol:

✾ Am I tired of repeating myself and saying “This member is smart because they got their degree”? Yes. Am I insanely impressed with most of EXO going to university whilst balancing their studies with a full-time idol career? Yes, and I will never shut up about it. Anyway, yeah Chanyeol went to university bla bla, making him, not just smart, bla  bla, but also hard-working, bla bla. You know the drill.

✾ Regardless of whether Chanyeol is well-studied in the field you are struggling in, nothing will stop him from becoming an expert. He is reading up on it as if his life depended on it, driven by his strong dislike of being bad at something. It doesn't matter whether you tell him it is okay and that you can always ask a fellow student or your teacher/lecturer; he is having none of it.

✾ At this point, he is more frustrated about not grasping a particular part of the theory than you. Even after you two manage to work through your homework/coursework, he will continue to read up on the topic until he fully understands it.

✾ He might be an overachiever and perfectionist who could’ve very well used the time that he spent on a piece of information he will never ever use again more wisely, but if anyone ever needs to know more about that specific theory, he can tell them everything.

D.O./Kyungsoo:

✾ Listen, I love him with every fibre in my body, and I will continue to do so until I turn to dust, but Kyungsoo has admitted, on several occasions, that he is not a big fan of studying. Sure, he got his degree, just like the others, and got his culinary license, indicating that he is more than capable of retaining a ton of information and working through difficult assignments/problems. But, does he enjoy studying? No, not really; he got it over with and seems glad to be done.

✾ So, when you ask him to help you with your homework/coursework, he will remind you, at least seven times, that he isn’t too good at studying and that there are better people to ask for help instead. He will try his best, albeit reluctantly, reminding you continuously to lower your expectations.

✾ In the end, he will try to help out in a different way, either by supplying you with a ton of study snacks or recounting how he worked through tough assignments back when he was in university, with the hope that maybe it works for you as it did for him. He makes sure that you are as comfortable as you can be, convinced he can’t do much more than that.  

Kai/Jongin:

✾ Listen, don’t get me wrong, I adore Kai. However, I have to say that he is not the brightest when it comes to academia (at least compared to the rest of EXO) or, like, his common sense. Yes, he had his moments of genius in New World, and I am sure that when it comes to memorizing dance and lyrics, he is insanely good. However, give him a math problem, and he will cry.

✾ Kai strikes me as someone who was exhilarated to be done with school, not seeing the point of going to university like the rest of his members. When you ask him to help you out with your home/coursework, something inside of him dies as he knows nothing that will be leaving his mouth will be helpful. He is too sweet to say no and will try his hardest to help you with whatever you are struggling with. Nevertheless, he is even more lost than you upon reading your assignment, confused by all the fancy words the assignment seems to be using.  

✾ Nevertheless, Kai would be an amazing person if you need someone to talk to without necessarily needing any advice/answers, just to get your own ideas out of your head. He knows exactly when to nod and say “hmhm”,  aware that you don’t necessarily want to get his input, only needing him to work through your thoughts and ideas on your own.

✾ Honestly, he gets an A for effort for me. Kai is good vibes only, and he would give you a hug for support.

Sehun:

✾ Another one who is glad he finished school and never has to go back. Again, don’t get me wrong, I love Sehun, but you can’t deny that he isn’t the smartest person in the room. As Suho said during EXO Ladder, “I think, they (the beluga whales) have the same IQ as Sehun” after noting they have an IQ of 60-90.

✾ Where Kai still tries to help out, he flat-out refuses. What do you mean you need his help finishing your work? He is so unapologetic about it too and slightly offended; why did you have to remind him about the horror that is school? He left that behind him and under no circumstances will he ever be dragged back in. He is rich, and he needs no degree.

✾ Such a bad influence on you as he tries to keep you from doing your work. “Well, if you are struggling with your homework you might as well take a break and go to the convenience store with me.” Funnily enough, it actually helps to clear your head. Sometimes the best thing to do is to step away and try again with a clearer mind. Sehun maintains that it was his plan all along; you doubt it.

✾ He will end up asking one of his members to assist you with your homework, calling in a favour with, for instance, Suho. They are all down bad for him, so you end up with the best tutors EXO has to offer.

Masterlist

[tanith-rhea]

Hi!! Can I request a Larissa x teacher!reader where reader has younger siblings so they understand the references, jokes, and slang that the students use so they get along well with them. Larissa hears reader talking to the students one day and is confused, but reader finds it adorable and tease Larissa a little (in the lighthearted way). Thanks!!

From Newark to Burlington #2

Hey, anon! I won't lie, I was sneaky with this one. I loved your request and thought the liveliness would go just perfect with my From Newark to Burlington reader, so I hope you don't mind I incorporated that in the part 2. It is just a tiny bit more steamy and angsty than I think you envisioned, but there is almost nothing there but lighthearted teasing and fun, so don't worry! I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much! Also, can you tell I don't know half a thing about slangs?

Word count: 2.6k

Larissa Weems is your new boss. Who knew that your crush could get any weirder and more complicated? Congratulations, Universe! Good one!

Being a normie teacher in a school for outcasts was too fun to be allowed. You never thought your students could give you such a good time but when a vampire kid explained the entire Russian Vampire Affair from the early 1920s in vivid detail because their "parents were there" was a treat; or when another described the burning of the meeting house in Jericho itself because they saw it in a vision, chef's kiss.

You were thrilled. Teaching those kids was the most fun you've had for a while in an academic setting. But that was not the only thing keeping your high spirits. Larissa Weems was your new boss.

Could the Universe come up with a bigger joke? How would it surprise you now? Or worst: how could it fuck you over harder than this?

It was unprofessional to fantasize about your employer, but you're sure it was also unprofessional to look that good when stopping by "just to check how things are going."

Your students thought you were afraid of the principal because every time she appeared you looked sickly pale or lost all semblance of coherence while talking. Larissa Weems made you a lusty mess, and you were not having it!

You: Can I take you up on the hot chocolate offer?

You waited a bit for a reply, but Weems was probably busy overworking herself to answer. Her contact name was still "Larissa" from when she typed it into your phone; she wasn't Larissa anymore. Now she was boss, or principal, or headmistress. It was only three weeks, but you missed the flight where she was just the stranger who ruined your jacket and slept on your shoulder.

Larissa: Please do. When would you like to meet? Is 4 p.m. ok?

Wow, replying under ten minutes! Principal Weems was wild today!

You: Perfect. I'll meet you there...

You typed and erased and typed and erased. At the end you sent:

You: Perfect. I'll meet you there, gorgeous x

Was flirting with your boss okay? It was when you didn't know each other, but now it seemed illicit and even more exciting.

She was already there when you arrived, but hadn't ordered. You slipped into the booth with a half-smile, looking up at her beautiful blue eyes.

"Hello there," she had a charming warm smile on her face, looking almost like a proud mother when their child did something kind.

I wouldn't object to calling you mommy. You thought and had to cough to hide your heating face from her.

"I took the liberty of asking for them to keep our drinks warm, they'll bring it over anytime soon," she rested her hand on top of each other on the table "So, how have you been acclimatizing? Are the students warming up to you?" she could not stop being the principal of Nevermore even while on a date. Was it a date? You counted it as one.

"They are soo much fun. I love them all," you beamed at her and a young barista came if two cups of hot chocolate with extra cream "Thank you!-"

"I must say that I was worried they'd be a bit weary of having another normie teacher after the incident of last year. We accidentally employed a radical with plans of destroying the school." she said carefully, her eyes trained on yours.

"Gee, that sound horrible. Was everyone ok?" she seemed to approve of your reaction. Was she testing you?

"One student, unfortunately, died, along with several normies hitchhiking in the proximities, but the teacher and her accomplice were emprisioned."

"I'm so sorry," you reached for her hands, caressing them in a way you hoped was comforting "I swear I don't want to kill anyone. At least while they're all behaving." you joked and immediately regretted it thinking it was too soon to make fun on something so serious, but to your delight and absolute relief, Larissa burst into a fit of laughter, breathtakingly full.

After that, it was much easier to talk. She seemed to drift to other topics instead of school, even sharing that she was almost sure you were the new teacher when you discussed your class plans on the airplane. You joked and attempted flirting a bit, feeling almost frustrated that it was so easy with everyone else but with her, it seemed like you were stepping on a bed of nails, scared she might reject you.

In the end, it was a lot of fun. You were almost sure she wanted you, even if she tried to conceal it, and your hopes were up.

It was the last class of the day and everyone was choosing their seats at the rearranged tables to form four big groups. Today your little hell-sents would recreate historical moments when outcasts advanced in their fight for acceptance in society by building dioramas. They seemed excited enough when you told them and started working as soon as each got their prompt.

About ten minutes into the class, someone politely knocked at the door. How could a knock sound polite you didn't know, but you very much knew who could be the only person to achieve that.

Larissa greeted you with a warm smile, saying she just wanted to pass by to see how everyone was acclimatising to you. Luckily, your students seemed to like you well enough, and when Principal Weems asked what they thought of you so far Enid said, "Professor l/n slays, principal"

Some other students also contributed, complimenting you on how your classes were banging compared to last year's. You didn't like to be compared but couldn't contain the smugness from being the "cool teacher"; maybe having your pest younger siblings was not so bad if you could relate to teenagers more easily.

After hearing the praises, Larissa seemed half-satisfied half-confused. You didn't realize why that was, but quickly forgot about it when she said:

"Also, I meant to ask you after our lovely outing yesterday but ended up forgetting it," she explained "Would you like to visit me later for wine? After dinner, maybe?" she seemed perfectly innocent, but her accentuated Ts and low voice made your stomach lurch nonetheless.

"Of course-" you stopped abruptly, your voice too high and certainly perking up a few students' ears "I would love too. I'll see you at dinner?"

Larissa only nodded, amused, and left you to continue the class.

The class ran smoothly after that. The dioramas were not completely finished but you allowed everyone to pick up on their work the next week, they were having fun while learning and that was all that mattered.

While your students were leaving you started packing up your own things; you would grade in your rooms since they had a more comfortable sitting arrangement. When you were finished and ready to go, you noticed four students still in the room, whispering amongst themselves by the door.

"Hey, guys. Can I help you with anything?" you smiled at the girls, Wednesday, Enid, Bianca and Yoko. Curious how they would be friends, being all so very different from each other.

Enid eyed her companions unsurely before taking a step forward, "We were just wondering... we heard you and Principal Weems talking earlier, and after you seemed very..." she fumbled for words, and Wednesday provided an end to her sentence:

"Out of sorts, in a way. Have you done anything to upset the headmistress?" she arched a brow, very to the point, that girl.

"No, why would you guys think that?"

"You just seemed very bothered, pale and breathing fast. We thought you were in trouble," Yoko provided.

While you discussed, Larissa passed by your class, assuming it was ended and no one would be there beside you, but stopped at the sound of multiple people talking about... was it her name she was hearing?

"Girls, I am not in trouble. Don't worry."

"Then why did you look upset?" Bianca jumped in, in a demanding tone you couldn't blame a siren from sporting. It was rather becoming on her, really.

You debated with yourself what to tell them. Maybe it was that you missed the twins, or maybe the madness you felt for repressing your lust for the principal, but you decided to confide in them.

"Do you really want to know?" you asked in an almost desperate tone, they seemed to thrive by the prospect of gossip and nodded vehemently "I'm just... I'm just... simpingsofuckingmuchforthatwoman" you finished in a rush.

They were quiet for a moment, you didn't know if it was shock, disgust, or just plain simple confusion.

"Called it," Wednesday said.

"What?!" you squeaked.

"I mean it was obvious..." Yoko drawled.

Were they having you on all this time? Just to get the information out of you?

"I completely understand, I mean she's so boujee with her clothes and that air about her"

While you were slowly melting to the ground, Larissa was at levels upon levels of confusion on the other side of the door. What were you talking about? Simping? Boujee? What in heaven was all that?

"How did you know?" you asked in a disbelieving voice.

"The way you look at her? How your face looses all colour? Kinda sus," Enid chirped in. Jesus, you were so obvious, weren't you? Weems probably was just having some fun with you, watching all the different expressions your panicked lusty mind painted on your face.

"Your reaction is fully understandable and supported by us," Wednesday said in her monotone, was she saying they ship you?

"Absolutely, I'm a total stan" Enid agreed.

"Yes girl, she's totally sliving it and you deserve something good, you're the coolest teacher in this school but your awkward-ass baby vibes demand a good mommy," Yoko finished.

At the end of it, you were laughing and joking about how much of a mommy she would be, and Larissa could only gather that maybe you felt intimidated by her and the girls thought you deserved someone better, softer and that didn't make you feel so nervous. She left in a haze of thoughts, thinking about how had she managed to make you uncomfortable when she had only ever tried to flirt and be approachable. Maybe her appearance was too much for you, maybe you two were never going to work because you felt you had no choice but to be responsive and flirt back. She was so very confused, she thought you had a connection but maybe she interpreted it all wrong. Well, she had certainly dealt with disappointment before, you would only add to a long list. She wasn't necessarily sad, it was almost funny actually, she'd just have to deal with the embarrassment of it.

Dinner felt charged. When you waved to the principal, she gave you a curt nod and a smile. You sat beside her to talk, maybe flirt a bit, but she only seemed dismissive of your attempts. It was as if electricity filled your veins and tensed your spine, but not in a fun way. Larissa was weirdly relaxed, almost like you hadn't gone on a date and she had invited you for drinks. She was civil enough, talking with Vlad and Persephone, but the jovial remarks and amused smirk didn't include you.

Later, when you were getting ready to go to her office, you realized your shoulders were still tense. Maybe her behaviour at dinner was she trying to tell you she thought better of it and didn't want you to come. You were almost giving up going when the girl's voices came to your mind, about how they thought your energy balanced so well and your tentative banter was the cutest (according to Enid and very much not Wednesday). If she didn't want you she might as well say it to your face, you decided and marched confidently down the corridor.

"Oh, you came," Larissa greeted you surprised after three curt knocks "I thought you wouldn't want to after all." she seemed eerily calm and polite.

"Why wouldn't I want to come?" you asked genuinely curious while following her inside.

She filled two glasses of red wine, sweet but earthy you realized, and sat on one of the chairs by the fire.

"I'm not prone to dancing around a subject," she said matter-of-factly, looking into the fire "I may have been in the past but I learned it only causes unnecessary discomfort."

You had no idea where this was going, but hey, being direct was a great trait, right?

"I heard you talking to some girls after your last class. I was going to stop by for a chat but ended up listening in."

You felt your face heating up. Had she heard you nonsensically thirsting over her to your students? Jesus Christ, that was so embarrassing. Wait, would she scold you for talking about the principal with them? It would only be fair but you thought the mortification of knowing she heard it was punishment enough, honestly.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you felt laughter slowly rise from the nervousness "They forced me to tell them, I swear!" now you were laughing, so embarrassed you could only laugh more and by the confused and almost amused expression on Larissa's face it was not helping your case.

She wasn't taking your regret seriously, and thinking it funny wouldn't alleviate any reprimand she might give you.

"I just..." you wheezed "I just had to tell someone" you coughed, cleaning tears from your eyes. You were so desperate.

"I'm upset about it," Larissa said calmly, and that made your laughter slowly subside "But I do agree that it is a bit humorous, if not to me. It is completely fine, really, I just wish you had told me you didn't think about me that way."

She was so put together. What the fuck was she talking about, though?

"What do you mean 'didn't think about me that way'?" you frowned, tilting your head.

She seemed equally confused, "You were discussing how intimidating I was? I believe someone mentioned I was 'boujee'? and 'sliving it'?"

It didn't make any sense to you. What was she talking about? You literally confessed simping for her... unless she didn't know... what it meant?

"And what do you think it means to be those things?" you asked carefully, picking up your wine glass and sipping with an arched brow.

She frowned and accompanied the movement of your hands with her eyes when you put the glass back down.

"Because I remember saying I am a simp for you, which means I would do whatever the hell you asked me and say thank you," her eyes went wide at that, and you smirked, continuing in a lower tone "and boujee means you are so fucking stylish and screams classy mommy all over,"

"And what does sliving mean...?" Larissa replied in a whisper, taking you in with a tight swallow, her hand dropping her own glass of wine on the floor.

"It means," you started, getting up from your chair to walk toward her, silently asking for permission to come close "that you are a glamourous and powerful woman in complete control of your life and consequentially the reason I drink three liters of water a day because I'm always so fucking thursty," you finished sitting in her lap, her hands around your waist.

"How was I supposed to understand that from all the gibberish you were talking?" if ".exe stopped working" was a facial expression, that would be her at that moment and you could not keep from laughing again.

"You weren't," you chuckled, that woman was adorable "Because as I and the girls agree, you are such a mommy" you finished before kissing her with the biggest smile.

I know this was a long time coming, guys, sorry!

@mayfair-fleur, @clairebear1251, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @readingtheentrails, @flightlexsbird, @witchesmortuary

[sgiandubh]

Hello! I am Caitriona anon. My ask was prompted by a comment from succulently speaking who commented in your post a few days ago “what has Sam done wrong and what exactly do you want him to do”? You responded he needed to step up his game. That’s why I asked about Caitriona because I thought it funny how much you post about Sam and what he should or shouldn’t be doing and I thought, I wonder why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment? I've been following you since you got here. I understand your position. My only quibble is I don’t think of them as one entity and I think Cait especially has pushed against this for years. She’s offended at the notion. As I said, of course it's your blog and you can post whatever you'd like and certainly don't owe me an explanation, but I thank you for the one you gave anyway. I’ll continue to read you because I enjoy you. I hope I didn’t offend or that I was impertinent.

Dear (returning) Caitriona Anon,

For an Anti, you sound pretty literate and polite. So, I am going to answer you and try to keep this dialogue line open. Try me: keeping dialogues open is my bread and butter, IRL. Has been so for twenty years.

Thank you for understanding my position, but I do not really need to be 'understood', like a minor Romantic poet by his posterity. I try very hard to rationalize yours and I believe it is your constitutional right to believe what you want about this saga. Conversely, it is my prerogative to believe exactly what I want about it, based on what I do consider to be relevant facts. Not social media, press circus or PR induced tacky blogger manipulation.

Having said that, it is also my constitutional right to express my opinions and try to encourage others to do so, in a no-drama, friendly environment. It would also seem that determined Mordor to marginally step up their game, for I seem to be the nightmare these people collectively manifested every single time they howled 'the shippers are stupid', on full moon nights.

Shippers are everything but stupid, pumpkin. They are witty, funny and completely immunized to bullshit. For rhetoric bullshit with honors is your question: why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment?

You know very well why and I am going to tell you a Romanian proverb: cine nu muncește, nu greșește. Loosely translated: no work, no mistakes. How do you want me to say anything about a statue, who doesn't show us anything else about her life anymore, spare her outfits, her make-up and some rare events, with or sans the PA? Oh, and marGINally, her erratic business projects, for ever ongoing, hinted and never ever, God forbid, materialized? SAG-AFTRA strike? News of it never seemed to have made it to Caitrionaland. Israel-Palestine conflict? Prudent silence, but hello Tilda, darling, how are you. Ukraine? Last I heard/seen, a short appeal for helping the refugees and then crickets. Women's rights? Again, a short snippet on Persia, then mum. Just what the fuck is this supposed to be? Surely not a coherent PR strategy for a gifted, intelligent and fun (yes, fun!!) 44 year old actress who wants to keep her lucky strike going on! Let me tell you: she doesn't come across as dignified. She comes across as despising, condescending and entitled. Too cool for school, too sexy for your car, peons.

She is not Queen Victoria, for crying out loud, and we are definitely not amused!

You then proceed to say 'she pushed against it for years'? Please, do not insult my intelligence! She pushed against shippers who deface the nice Narrative, when she needed sympathy and massive support for her Belfast promo, unwittingly making a major PR blunder and for ever fracturing this fandom in at least two savagely antagonistic camps. Then, a cold, totally DGAF attitude, including towards her stans: tough to be her stan, when your Goddess is more silent than a Poor Clare (pun totally intended) nun! And she denied being an item with S (which is a complete, pious lie), because that is the Narrative, ever since IFH.

So, it's safe to say: yes, public Caitriona Balfe is dismissive of the notion, but since when is social media indicative of an undeniable or even intimate truth, especially in that particular world of hers? Oh, and by the way: sorry to be pedantic, but - it's offended by the notion, not 'at the notion'. Simple curiosity: you translate your thoughts from which language, exactly? My bet would be either German: bei, or Russian: обидеться на - yes: literally 'offended at'.

My complete Romanian proverb includes a conclusion. In full, it would be: cine nu muncește, nu greșește, dar nici nu reușește. No work, no mistake, no success.

How I wish to be proven wrong, Anon, on that one: you can't even imagine! Thank you for the time you took to answer me. I am afraid we agree to disagree. Change my mind? Not in a million years.

[thesoulshyperrealaslacreatura]

Drakenier: Violence as expression and affirmation - Pt.1

It has become a rather well-known piece of trivia (or at least, well-known within the niche internet circles I flow through) that 2010's Nier Replicant / Gestalt had its overall message thoroughly inspired by well, 9/11 - the discourse that produced it, that came of it, and became it. Although it may not be a direct quote, "to kill someone, you don't have to be out of your mind, you just need to believe you are correct" is a sentiment clearly echoed throughout the game; as the many layers of its central and side conflicts drop alongside the curtains to its second, third (and maybe kind of fourth) playthrough, so does what had, for quite a ways into the game, seemed like a story mostly about finding, nurturing and protecting a community - people to call home.

However, the statement above seems to somewhat conceal-so-as-to-merely-hint-at what I'd argue is a much more complex argument the games lay forth, when looked at as one series. I, myself, have found it difficult in the past to distill both Replicant and the wider series as a whole into one coherent message or thematic frame; partly (and beautifully), because there mustn't be one - this singular reading which eclipses the broad range of experiences that people have come to share with the series - such an idea is preposterously reductive. Still, I think that this mish-mash of "the game is about philosophy and tragedy and nihilism and existentialism and society and humanity and life" and whatnot misses a bit of where the different themes intersect, producing further instances of meaning from the text. I hope to discuss the evolution (were I to sound even more pretentious, I might have used the word genealogy, but I would never stoop to that) of a few central concepts surrounding drakenier's "philosophy of violence" and where they seem to have informed or have been informed by other aspects of the works.

Strap in, because just from writing the introduction I can already tell this is gonna have to come in multiple parts. Hopefully my writing can steer away from boring you to tears throughout all of it.

Spoilers for the whole series!

Part 1: Replicant, and the subjective experience gained from that funky 9/11 fun fact

"Blood is sound, sound is words, and words are power"

This quote, almost a chant from Weiss as the player starts to grasp the gameplay loop of attacking enemies to allow for magical attacks, ties in the game's teaching of that system with what I consider to be the most powerful writing from Replicant (I'm going to refer to it as Replicant for the sake of convenience, obviously Gestalt is included in that). And it is deeply tied to what Taro himself has credited as a major source of inspiration for Replicant in relation to his previous game, Drakengard.

In some ways, Nier Replicant isn't introducing a new, foreign idea over the original Drakengard, so much as bringing out new elements from within its predecessors' critiques of the gaming landscape. Though that only really becomes clear by taking future foresights the series would reach into account; this is the point at which it becomes prudent to ask ourselves one question - how might the game's design regulate the player's interaction with the game world? (A question that, if you're at all even familiar with Drakengard, you probably already know the answer to)

From this, we can extrapolate a lot of meaning from how the original Drakengard was conceived: a game about violence, from the perspective of people who were so immersed in their own awfulness and the general precarity of their world that they cannot enact anything but that same violence. And it is that violence which comes to define them.

I'd also like to do the pedantic thing and bring up the fact that violence can be thought of as more than just physical harm, but also in terms of violation. In that sense, when I claim that Drakengard's characters are defined by violence, I mean it in that their reduction of other people to objects serves as an exertion of themselves - the Dynasty Warriors inspired combat of cleansing battlefields as the only win state reflects back at Caim as his only method of building an identity of his own, one based on strength demonstrated from conquering his enemies. You might find that these 'enemies' are violated the moment they're placed into the game as props that sustain its overall narrative.

In fact, this 'loss of personhood as self-affirmation' theme reverberates into another key factor of the game's story: pacts. They explicitly deprive humans of something of themselves - their ability to communicate, to see, to age, to have hair (sure????) -, and reduces both parties into one shared essence, yet it is what permits its characters to have strength through which they find themselves as able to inflict that dehumanization onto others. Dehumanization becomes their characterization, both from the audience's perspective as well as in-world.

Following that, Nier Replicant does not dispute that destruction of the other simultaneously inflicts upon the self both corruption and affirmation. If anything, it only takes measures to strengthen that sentiment, in light of how the added theme of perspective brings forth a need to now more closely study the subjective experience of perpetrating violence. Thus:

"Blood is sound, sound is words, and words are power"

The gameplay system I've anchored this analysis to comes into play; attacking your enemies gives you the literal strength to continue your offense, by design - ridding them of their life force, their blood, perpetuates the narrative, the words being built, the sealed verses of a prophecy you've set for yourself: that of being a hero to your sister/daughter, friends and general community. This even extends to the lyrics of Ashes of Dreams:

"Are we the plaything of fiends or merely the dreams that we're telling ourselves?"

Though we shouldn't forget that Weiss' comment takes the form of X=Y=Z=W, and it seems I've neglected the 'sound' part of the sentence. As I was writing this, my brain immediately made the association between that and Drakengard 3's focus on the power of Song, which, in fairness, definitely was made with the rest of the series in mind - but, in this instance, that sounds like a bit of a lucky coincidence. Still, what the concept of sound brings to the statement doesn't seem too far off from what meaning could be made at a bit more of a general, rudimentary level, that being: our lifeforce (blood) translates into our ability to be heard (sound), thus effectively giving us narratives about the world around us (words), which gives our actions direction, purpose (power).

From that, we can take a closer look into a lot of different aspects of the game. After all, the reason I proclaimed this piece of writing to be so powerful isn't really because I could - and did - stretch its interpretation to its fullest, but also from the way it manifests itself around the struggles of various characters, while being tied to the game's overall systems and world. Emil receding into his identity as a weapon in order to redirect what he sees as his curse onto those who seek to harm his friends - leading to his sacrifice; Weiss, who also goes on to sacrifice himself, does so in the name of putting an end to this now 5-year mission, grown into his own center of existence; Louise, perhaps reacting to the world around her, saw humanity as something to claim from others, and faced erasure upon perceiving herself as incapable of acquiring it. For better or for worse, the moral codes characters create from their own intentions of living become rigid scripts to follow as self-fulfilling prophecies of their own identities.

We can see that, ultimately, characters across both games tend to follow journeys with a general structure of: bleak circumstances > feeling of powerlessness > violence as a misguided means of reclaiming the power to define oneself > entrenchment in violence becomes overbearing, coming to annihilate the very self which sought to instigate it. From the first Drakengard to the first Nier, this hasn't changed a bit. What changed is a distinct awareness in how the self, or what we might call "us" stands in conflict with the generalized other, "them", and where it uses morality as a catalyst for smoothing out the uncomfortable edges of that conflict.

In fact, the annihilation of the self as, paradoxically, an act of self-affirmation is the very core of ending D for Replicant. And this is, partly, where the inciting 9/11 quote comes into play - given our newfound empathetic understanding of where violence comes from, how do we process it? How do we make sense of it? From the way the world is established, the very act of surviving, for both replicants and gestalts, is somewhat tainted as immoral, and predicated on the erasure of an 'other'. It leaves room for later material to find itself more at ease with this question (and those circle back nicely to ending E from the new version, as well). For now, most of what the game feels comfortable in concluding comes from Kainé, who stands in contrast with most characters by fully rejecting the notion of being a moral agent throughout the entire story, yet the game still offers us the chance to save her - it, mirroring the protagonist, relentlessly believes in her. Not even that "she can be better", whatever better might mean, just that "she can be".

And obviously, finally, we can extrapolate plenty of social commentary from this. Playing off of the thematic material introduced in Automata, we could argue that Replicant's plot is, in retrospect, about slowly building up to the depiction of a certain "Death of God" - which, in nietzschean terms, is not merely society straying from religiosity, but represents an irreparable shattering in the very idea of a centralizing narrative that everyone could subscribe to and fit within. So ends humanity, not just as a species, but as a concept; no longer are people able to identify themselves as containing some unified essence of 'humanity', recognizing the other as a complete self in its own right, as they retreat into the violence that was inflicted against them, which they inflict back at the world - to have your totality reduced to a role in a play that the winner gets to write. And in that sense, I'd argue it captures specific facets of a post-9/11 climate pretty well.

Anyway, gonna make a separate post that's just about Drakengard 3, and then one that's just about Automata, but at a later time!

also, this thesis becomes more relevant when the time comes to analyze automata, but it was still helpful in having me think through the previous games, so I'll drop it here as a reference for now, and will mention it more loudly once we come to specific sections later (not about to be the next target for hbomberguy lmao): http://dspace.library.uvic.ca/handle/1828/14525

Cool that there are people writing about it!! Thank you Xinlyu Tan, the goat!!! Would love to go through more material, but I'm writing this for fun on the side... hope anyone reading this has enough fun with it to go looking for more on their own, go extend the discussion further, blah blah blah. Also hope that I make any sort of vaguely coherent point. And, lastly, I hope you enjoy yourself!

[slowd1ving]

Hi! Swanon here 🦢

I loved reading your yapping to my question. I feel like i understand your Moze much better now ! I love that he feels so much yet doesn't know what or why. Im so excited to get him in 3 days.

I also casually think about your dan heng fic that was the prologue to the blade one. And i had another question ! Hopefully, you dont mind. I was wondering if things would have gone Dan Hengs way if only he had confessed in that closet. I remember the protag was like annoyed at the thought of Dan Heng asking someone else to teach him the game, but then was ok with the friends with benefits arrangement.

Like would the protag have accepted, or had to have some time to think about it. Would the protag be more or less willing to move in with him. Also, would the Astral express ever tell the protag about Dan Heng's feelings, or do they respect his privacy that much. Would Kafka get in the way, or would she let things happen, however that goes.

I dont know if it's noticeable, but i love thinking about all the possibilities and timelines. Im also sorry for yapping. Take your time. I 6 read Ratios' fic yet, but im sure it will be a great read again. I just need to get in a Ratio mood, haha.

SWANANON HIII

I'm glad I was somewhat coherent in that longass Moze analysis since I have so many damn thoughts about this man. (I caved and used my pity for feixiao and got both of them; her playstyle is genuinely so fun?? sorry ratio lmao)

Speaking of that Dan Heng fic I was actually reading it today to just deconstruct how I write... crazy.. Honestly it would've absolutely gone his way had he confessed; when I tend to write an MC I usually lean to a somewhat blunt personality (that occasionally comes of as quite crude), so MC is someone who values communication. Alas, Dan Heng is nothing of the sort... alas. Sorrows and prayers. You're right, I did try to hint at MC's jealousy when thinking of Dan Heng pulling someone else into that closet, because both of them were sort of tiptoeing into 'feelings' territory. Dan Heng knew but was in verbose denial; MC just felt irritated about it and likely just blamed it on the drinks lmao.

Anyways with both the Dan Heng and Blade series, their lack of voicing how they feel about something makes them both veryyy entertaining to write for. Like quiet, simmering jealousy? Elite. MC's also written to be quite an intense and adaptable character to complement theirs, which is also why he doesn't mind being fwbs with both. (WENCH!!! VILLAGE WENCH!)

But again, the MCs I write tend to value dialogue more, while also brushing off any advances of characters. Therefore any feelings he had for either would've been pushed down subconsciously since both Dan Heng and Blade are SHIT at having heart to hearts.

Genuinely, in terms of a relationship, whoever confessed first would've had a better chance. Like MC has chemistry with both of them so it would've been quite easy to form a relationship with either, or at least I hope it reads that way. Yes, MC would've moved in with Dan Heng 100% (even in that one blade one he was READY to jump ship lmao).

To answer the Astral Express part, I feel like they wouldn't outright tell reader. Like they'd absolutely make fun of Dan Heng for it (and for his lack of game tbh.. because how is shitcommunication #2 confessing first... bro... one job.. you've got a chest in your mouth instead of WORDS). And Kafka... she's just there for the entertainment tbh; that one section where I included her just terrorising Dan Heng by being all touchy with MC... lmao she's fully using the best friend privileges just to kick this emotionally constipated doofus into action

But honestly, she's rooting for Blade 100%. It's just a consequence of being closer with him naturally (she'll support MC either way tbh); like the poor guy's smiling for once he no longer looks like a wet cat... please date this man... he has not smiled once since starting his engineering degree (joke) (not really) (this will be me next year)

Which is why she's helping him more proactively by essentially dragging the two of you together; like she's still kicking Dan Heng into realising his feelings by dragging you away from him, but that's away from him, unlike with Blade.

speaking of both of them there's actually a little both of them fic idea festering in my mind.... gosh... anyways...

for the alternate timelines, same. Not just because there's a grillion different ways for a scene to play out, but it's so intriguing to think what MC might've done differently. Bro MC getting caught with Blade by Dan Heng would be MAD icel. (...anyways)

ratio mentioned ratio mentioned

For the fic you're referring to there will be some slight aventurine / reader so... but honestly it's more focused on worldbuilding initially rather than romance

anyways slowd1ving yap has concluded I'm currently working on an inbox request and on chapter 4 of lament of ouroboros hell yeah

[elifinchsart]

Wanted to give a bit more coherent life update. For the last three and a half weeks (and possibly longer) I have been dealing with excess fluid in my cranium, causing extremely frequent migraines, nausea, occasional loss of sensation in limbs (thankfully my non dominant arm LOL) and my eyeballs are swollen in a weird shape that hurts + gives me temporary vision loss. The neurologist I've been seeing has decided to hold off on treatment until we have a cause for it (or rule out causes for it). I have an upcoming lumbar puncture this week as well as further MRIs so I'm hoping we have answers soon. This is they best option to figure out what's wrong with me medically but unfortunately means in the meantime I have to deal with the above symptoms (+ my previous disabilities) with very little relief besides OTC meds and self medicating with weed. With my symptoms I was no longer able to work my part time job and had to quit early before the season ended which was devastating as I really, really liked the job I had. Luckily, my parents are supporting me financially right now in addition to the government assistance programs I am on (again, already had health issues that only allowed me to work part time and have been having a rough summer). I do not need any donations or financial assistance at this time (though any nice words you have are appreciated!) I hope to open commissions back up some day so I can contribute to my own finances again (+ they're fun!) but for now they will have to remain indefinitely closed until I receive treatment and recover. If you have an outstanding commission I will be completing that for you! Thank you so much for your patience, it is very appreciated. I pride myself on quick turnaround time for my comms so it's been very frustrating to not be able to keep that up. I'm extremely thrilled the Blaseball Fatshion Zine was completed and so proud of and grateful to everyone who submitted work. Next up on my list is completing outstanding commissions and art trades. I have some personal projects I want to complete as well as some other plans with friends in the future but for now expect my art output to be a little slower than normal. That said no force in the world can stop me from drawing Tillman o7

[boogiewoogieweeb]

fic writer ask! fic writer ask! (numbers 3, 21, 43, 63 please? 🥺)

how can i refuse when i'm asked so sweetly by my very good friend and beloved joplittle co-conspirator, my darling helen?

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

phase 1: have fic idea phase 2: ? phase 3: PROFIT PUBLISH FIC

all jokes aside, i don't know if i can rightly be described as having a legitimate creative process when writing. i like to plot things out sometimes, and often i'll start a fic with a specific scene or bit of dialogue in mind. but other than that, i'm what i like to think of as an "opportunistic" writer. that is to say, i write mainly when inspiration strikes, and when it does, i write like i'm possessed by the ghost of robert louis stevenson himself. i don't really take breaks, and i don't stop writing until the idea has either been exorcised or my hands cramp up from typing; because when i inevitably run out of steam, my motivation tends to disappear into thin air as well. it's not a healthy nor particularly sensible way of doing things, but it is how i write. i've tried pacing myself, doing sprints, and even writing a few lines of stream-of-consciousness drabbling each day, all with varying levels of success. invariably, however, it's only ever when my muse lovingly plunges her divine hands into the wet slurry of my brain and stirs things around in there like a kid agitating an anthill with a stick, that i manage any actual feats of writing (prodigious or otherwise). and my muse, unfortunately, is nothing if not fickle.

21. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

you know, i never have, though i would certainly love to at some point. my main worry however is my own flakiness, and so in that regard, i think i'm much better suited to serving as a kind of fic springboard against which to lob ideas and concepts to see what might stick. but in the interest of interest, yes, i would very much be willing to collab at some nebulous point in the future.

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

it's always whump o'clock in my house. i wouldn't say i necessarily take sadistic joy in it, but i'm also very much of the opinion that if you can't put your faves through the wringer both emotionally and physically, then they're not really your faves. also, as someone who tends to relate strongly to the characters i write, i channel a lot of my own life experiences (and by extension, any accompanying pain and trauma) into my characterizations. who says projection can't be fun AND cathartic?

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

bad characterization. i can excuse a great number of things in the name of horniness, but any kind of mischaracterization (especially of my faves) is not one of them. it's something that, no matter how steamy and raunchy and technically well-written the smut is, the second i encounter it, it kills the vibe stone-dead and completely takes me out of the fic. it's to the point where i will immediately and without hesitation dnf any body of mischaracterized work, even if i'm already several chapters and tens of thousands of words in. my other pet peeves in smut are overly flowery descriptive nouns and adjectives. *stares in mid-2000s ff.net*

thank you so much for the ask, helen 💖💖💖 i'm always thrilled whenever your username pops up on my screen, and this time was no exception. ily sm my dear, and hope that my answers were coherent, interesting, and informative (aka, to your liking).

[batbeato]

The more I think about ikuko and tohya the more frustrated I get. The implications of tohya's living situation is so dark but it feels like (to me as someone who only read the vn and none of the side content) ryukishi didn't really consider those implications. I understand we only met tohya at the very end, so there wasn't very much time to explore his character and how the decades post massacre has affected him, but it still bugs me.

I often joke that umineko would be peak media if tohya was trans (and ikuko didnt pick him up to be her roommate/pet but thats not the point i will be focusing on since thats removing an aspect of the story rather than adding onto it). I understand why some are against this idea, battler is shown behaving in ways that are seen as stereotypically feminine (like his crying) and making tohya trans might come across as saying because of battlers behaviour he can't be a man. But to me personally, battler and tohya are distinctly different people, so tohya being trans isn't a statement about battler's manhood.

(Also trans tohya doesn't need to be trans fem, tho I did lean on that idea initially, I have been in recent times thinking of a more masc enby tohya)

This is completely my own lil au idea that is very self indulgent so ill try to keep it brief but:

The concept of this freshly traumatised 18 being forced to build a life for themselves with no family or support, finding people who care for them and then also maybe discovering something about themselves along the way is incredibly compelling to me. I just like the idea of showcasing what it would be like to separate oneself from one's family to living as ones authentic self and the pain and new trauma that comes with leaving one's family.

I also like this idea for tohya because it would have shown that sayo wasn't doomed, that someone like her could have lived, not easily, but she could have. It would have shown that sayo's tragedy was a preventable one (I know lion already exists but I feel like their existence makes it seem like sayo could have only found happiness within the family and I feel like this idea could have shown that she could have also found happiness outside of it too. I also just adore the idea of having tohya and sayo mirroring each other).

Since ikuko isn't a part of my lil au concept when ange meets featherine she'd be meeting tohya, but wouldn't reconise them as battler in a similar way to how battler doesn't reconise kanon amd shannon as the same person, the parallels!!

Again this idea is very tailored to me and me specifically so I understand if this au idea isn't anyone else's cup of tea.

I just wish that since ryukishi had ikuko taking tohya in that he would have explored the darker implications of that (since i feel like battler's dissappearance post massacre is a mystery in itself, but the answer of that mystery only has its pieces fit together because they needed too (how did battler/ tohya find time and resources to write and publish the forgeries? Idk he had a rich benefactor) with no care for the implications of the whole thing) unfortunately as far as I know ryukishi didn't have any interest in exploring these matters, so I'm glad that other people have taken these ideas into their hands and explored them.

Ultimately its not something I hold against umineko too hard and I hope I didn't sound too negative in all this, but it's something I always come back to. Oh well it just gives me ideas on how to explore such topics in my own stories.

Hopefully this is coherent, I tend to be rather terrible at explaining my thoughts, sorry for ranting in your inbox. Feel free to ignore this if its too much.

Hmm, I see what you mean about trans Tohya. ...I feel like there's some latent exorsexism in the queer community that the base assumption of "trans character" is "transitioning to the 'opposite' gender they were born as" such that you have to clarify. I haven't really thought about trans Tohya but it could be interesting, fun way to take the text that heaps on even more Tohya-Sayo parallels like you mention. Also the "leaves the family, explores identity, comes out as trans" narrative is fun and, like you said, would definitively showcase how Sayo could have lived.

(Also, I agree with you that Tohya's gender doesn't have to correlate to Battler's at all. People's identities can change greatly after incredibly traumatic events, let alone amnesia on top of that.)

I think the general problem of Tohya is that while I love him and you can infer a lot about Tohya if you stare closely enough at the works he wrote, we also just don't see him enough, and he also isn't foreshadowed enough. Yes, you can guess that he's going to be a thing, especially if you're savvy and know about the Divine Comedy (Dante writing about the past from the future). But even when Ikuko as "Hachijo Tohya" first appears, and Featherine appears, there isn't really any foreshadowing about Tohya.

Even if Ryukishi had gone ahead and made Tohya trans, if he kept Tohya to the surprise end twist, it would still feel like it needed a lot of fleshing-out the way Ikuko and Tohya do now. So making Tohya trans would add a lot, but it's also only a fix if Tohya is actually given the spotlight for it? Like, properly putting in hints about his existence with Featherine/Hachijo's appearances. Maybe in this AU, Hachijo is Tohya with a wig and some vocal training, so Ange notices some odd looks from Hachijo, or maybe Hachijo's voice sounds vaguely familiar like she had heard it long ago, etc. etc.

Ikuko and Tohya, on paper, have the most fucked up relationship. They are also the only confirmed human characters to form a witch-character as a combination of two people, which seems relatively unexplored with Featherine excepting the tidbit about her memory device perhaps relating to Tohya's own memory issues. And yet, they don't really get explored, and the potentially-toxic elements to their relationship don't ever get explored. Yukari doesn't even ask about them, instead asking Tohya why he didn't want to see her, instead of why this much older woman didn't, say, inform the authorities of a missing person.

Oh, and this isn't discussed as often, but Tohya is canonically disabled (wheelchair user), and is, as far as I'm aware, the only visibly disabled character in Umineko, or at least the only one with any prominence. It's... sort of implied that Tohya can't walk, but really I think you're just supposed to assume this because he's in a wheelchair? He also never wheels himself around, instead relying entirely on Ikuko. Which, yes, some wheelchair users are not able to walk/stand, and some do not have arm strength to be able to move themselves around. But the assumptions the text asks you to make, the deliberate contrast it makes between Battler standing and Tohya sitting, come off a bit odd given that it never explicitly confirms the extent of Tohya's disability. The reader is meant to assume "in wheelchair = cannot walk/stand or move himself around", I guess.

...Sorry, tangent. Point is, Tohya and Ikuko seem very surface-level and maybe even half-baked in some respects. It's this thing Ryukishi does sometimes, especially with his commissioned works, where he clearly has a lot of things and cool concepts for a story/character, but just doesn't have the time to fit it all in, and instead implies it.

I think this is one of Umineko's big flaws, because it could have had the space to do a lot more with Tohya and Ikuko. But, perhaps Ryukishi hadn't settled on precisely what was going on with Battler's survival when working on earlier episodes, or he thought he would put it into later episodes and then ran out of time, etc. In the end, they just ended up with Ikuko being mostly author-insert and Tohya not really having his own voice, which lends well to a lot of fun speculation and fleshing-out as well as to the potentially abusive nature of their relationship, but not as well to the text having actually fleshed them out beyond interpreting their forgeries as Tohya's internal struggles somehow... which can be very subjective.

For me Umineko is peak media anyway. I used to be a Fate fan. At this point I can survive any number of bullshit writing decisions so long as the concepts are insanely cool enough that I can gnaw on them for a few years, with good enough characters/story that there's some flesh to keep me actually fed. But it would be interesting to see a Tohya that doesn't exist in Ikuko's shadow, or that has more room to exist in the story at all. Whether with your idea of trans Tohya or something else.

(Ryukishi please give us Umineko GouSotsu I promise you no amount of obtuse/clumsy writing or reused animation will keep us from loving it. Please revisit Umineko please give us more did you know I think about Umineko scrapped content and Ikuko/Tohya toxicity every day plea -)