#this is not relevant I just wanted to say it

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken

max verstappen x reader

she isn't you i'd be insane not to love you

request from @formulaal

"Alright, one more question from the chat," you said into your mic, scanning for a good one. One caught your eye, and you began reading it aloud before realizing it would reveal something from your past. “Would you choose a guy over your best friend?”

Laughing humorlessly, you looked into the camera with a tight smile. “Anyone who’s been here for a while knows how relevant that question is to my life. But my answer hasn’t changed: if you’re choosing a romantic partner over your best friend, you can get fucked. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. See you around.”

Logging off, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the kitchen to refill it. Checking your phone, you smiled at the stats from the stream—10k of your fans tuning in tonight was a big turnout. You’d gone viral on BookTok back in 2020, and now, your book podcast had a solid following. Normally, BookTok didn’t bring huge numbers, but thanks to your former best friend, your popularity had skyrocketed. As grateful as you were, his part in your success irritated you now.

Then a notification popped up on your screen, and you rolled your eyes.

MV: Nice stream.

You: Fuck off

MV: Glad I’m still living rent-free in your head.

You: Glad you got permission to text me.

You threw your phone down on the counter, boiling inside. Nobody got under your skin like he could, especially after 20 years of knowing exactly how to do it. Growing up, it hadn’t always been this way. At 10, you’d moved with your family to the Netherlands, right next door to the Verstappens. Max quickly became your best friend, your weekends spent watching him kart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine things would end like this.

You met Kelly in 2018 at a race Max invited you to. Right away, you got weird vibes. She looked at Max like a toy she had to have. It was creepy, especially given the nine-year age gap. By 2019, they were dating, and she made it clear she didn’t like you, refusing to acknowledge your existence. That led to rocky times between you and Max; he always had excuses to avoid seeing you. When you were together, he seemed tense, as if being watched.

Everything fell apart in Australia 2021.

Flashback

Max invited you to the first race of the 2021 season, though you almost didn’t go. It felt obligatory, as if he invited you just because you’d never missed an opening race. You hadn’t seen him all winter, just exchanging quick holiday texts. Walking into the paddock, you felt a strange sense of finality, like this might be the last one.

Spotting Carmen outside Mercedes, you walked over and hugged her. As you stepped back, she looked worried.

“What’s up?”

She hesitated. “I thought you should know, Kelly’s been saying some nasty things about you around the paddock. No one believes her, but… I wanted you to know.”

“What is she saying?” you asked, heart sinking.

“She’s calling you pathetic, saying you’re still pining over your childhood crush and using Max to become an influencer,” she said softly, looking at you with sympathy.

“You’re joking,” you said, anger simmering. She shook her head.

“Can I be real with you?” She asked, and you nodded. “I love you and George loves you and honestly, everyone does. But I will accept not seeing you here anymore if you finally realize that Max is not being a good friend to you. And he hasn’t been for a long time.”

Eyes filling with tears, you let her words sink in. She was right, but admitting it was brutal. Maybe staying around him was just self-inflicted pain.

You found Max later, pulling him aside.

“I only have a few minutes, so make it quick,” he said, barely looking at you. Seeing him like this, you realized that the man in front of you wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“Your girlfriend’s telling people I’m a pathetic loser here to use you for fame,” you said, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Really?” you laughed bitterly. “You don’t believe that from your girlfriend—the one who’s disliked me since day one?”

“Seems like you have something to say, Y/N. Just say it,” he replied, finally looking at you.

“There was a time in my life where I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. But now I’m living it. Have the past ten years been nothing to you? All it took was an older woman to bat her eyelashes at you and that was it?”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we had a good run and that I wish you the best. Fuck you. Fuck you for choosing her over me and fuck you for even letting it have to be a choice. I hate you.”

End of Flashback

That was the last time you had spoken to him. There were no texts or calls after that; his life just went on like normal while you felt like you were dying inside. You had thrown yourself into your work after that and now had over a million followers and subscribers to your podcast. You’d stayed friends with Carmen but hadn’t returned to a race since that day. You had tried to block the memory of that day from your mind, but when you were low, one thing always resurfaced in your mind. Kelly was right about you pining after your childhood crush. You had been in love with Max back then. How could you not be?

Then Carmen invited you to the Austin GP, and after much persuasion, you finally agreed. Thanks to your online following, you flew down with her, officially a Mercedes guest. Wearing Mercedes colors felt like poetic justice.

When you entered the paddock, a wave of nostalgia and sadness hit you. But it disappeared as you saw familiar faces you’d missed over the years.

"Y/N!" Alex called, arms open. Hugging him, you sighed, realizing how much you’d missed everyone. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you admitted before greeting Lily, who gushed over your podcast and joked about being a guest. As you laughed with her, you noticed Alex subtly trying to block your view. Looking over, you saw Max walking by. He did a double take, but you turned back to Lily, ignoring his stare.

Later, as you waited for a coffee, you overheard Checo’s wife and Fernando’s girlfriend chatting.

“I heard Max and Kelly broke up,” Melissa said.

“Oh yeah, it’s been a few months,” Carola replied, shrugging. “Apparently, he was in love with someone else the whole time.”

You smirked. So Kelly finally experienced what it felt like to be second choice.

The race came and went, and you successfully avoided Max the entire weekend. You didn’t even think about the possibility of running into him when you accepted Carmen’s invitation to go out that night. George had actually wanted to go out, so you found yourself at a little country bar that night with what seemed to be the whole grid. You felt Max’s gaze the second you walked in, and you were doing a hell of a job ignoring him. Charles was trying to talk to him, looking confused between the two of you, but you didn’t care.

Ordering another gin and tonic you felt him come up next to you and you refused to look over.

“Put hers on mine,” Max said, handing over his card. You tried to leave, but he held out an arm to stop you.

“No ‘thank you’?” he teased, eyes intense.

You glared. “You can have it, then.”

“Stop being difficult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, and his expression darkened.

He sighed. “Can we talk?”

“I said everything I needed to say three years ago. Have a good night.”

This time he let you go and you made your way back to Carmen who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” She asked, and you nodded.

A little while later, you were sitting at a table talking with Charles with Max hovering close by.

“Max, come sit down,” Charles slurred, and at this point, you were too tipsy to put up a fight about it. “Max is my best friend, ya know?”

“Ah yeah?” You asked head tilting. “Those words don’t mean much coming from him.”

Charles giggled, too drunk to understand what you meant and Max clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Insult me all you want schatje, as long as you’re talking to me I’ll take it,” he said and you didn’t say anything, just stared at him trying to figure out his angle.

“Is this the girl Kelly broke up with you over?” Charles asked and Max whipped his head towards him. “You always had a thing for her, so I told Alex that was my guess.”

Max’s face fell, and you froze. Shock turned into anger as you got up and stormed out. You felt Max following and soon he was in front of you, blocking your path.

“Come on,” he urged, leading you to a nearby park.

“Max, I don’t want to talk,” you said firmly, pulling away.

“I don’t care,” he replied, frustrated. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

You laughed bitterly. “Crawling back because you got dumped? It’s too late.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You made your choice three years ago. Now live with it.”

“You want to know why we broke up?”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” you replied before turning to walk away.

“She isn’t you!” He yelled. Your legs stopped moving as your mind reeled.

Whirling on him you got into his face, “You don’t get to fucking say that to me. Not after all this time. Not after what you put me through. Not after you chose her over me. I was there the whole time Max. Me! I was there! It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that till I was gone.” 

“I realized it long before then,” he said softly, and you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Tears were starting to fall, and you looked everywhere but him. 

“Then why?” You whispered, voice cracking. 

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you,” he said laughing sadly to himself. “The pressure was starting to cave in back then and I didn’t want you to see that. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You were my best friend Max,” you said exasperated. “I would have done anything for you.” 

“It’s easy to see that now,” he said. “But then you were so full of life and starting your little videos that I didn’t want to disappoint you. She understood what I was going through, but I never stopped loving you.” 

“Then why did you still push me away?” 

“I had to do that so that I could try and move on. She knew and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do to change how I felt about you. I knew what she was saying about you in the paddock, and I knew why she was saying it.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and it felt like heartbreak all over again. “You knew and you let it happen. You are the worst person I’ve ever known Max Verstappen.”

He was crying now too and the two of you stood staring at one another not saying anything. 

“I would be insane not to love you,” he said softly and it made you cry harder. “So I will do whatever it takes for however long to make up for what I did.” 

He let you go again and you left him there, crying silently as you walked back to the hotel. So many emotions going through your mind paired with confusing feelings. 

Happiness for your 15-year-old self that has wanted to hear those words for so long. 

Sadness for your 21-year-old self reliving those memories. 

And anger at your 24-year-old self for considering letting him make it up to you. 

[youwerethedefeated]

Ok brief run down of kagehina sightings in the light novels for @infinitemilk

Right off the bat in volume 1 chapter 1, we have Hinata daydreaming about having a picnic with kageyama underneath a beautiful sakura tree in full bloom. Yep with the pink flowers falling around romantically, they're sharing food and laughing together etc.

The "he chose the Olympics over me" also comes from there, though I'd say that's the least gay thing to happen in that chapter. (It's volume 12, chapter 1 if I'm not mistaken.) Prior to that, Hinata also complains that "Kageyama never tells me anything" and that if they're partners, shouldn't be included in that kind of decision making? (Yeah just like that)

This is the same chapter where yachi goes on on her (paraphrasing) "they're not friends not lovers but a secret, worse third thing" rant: "more like a fork and knife, or the minute hand and the hour hand of a clock. Even when there's no conversation between them, they still continue to move with the same purpose"

This same chapter, hinata continues bitching about kageyama joining a pro team/the JNT and ditching him the whole time lmao

There are a few chapters during the summer training camp that show Hinata pestering everyone to compete with him because Kageyama wasn't talking to him - at some point lev asks "why don't you compete with your partner" and hinata is like "Oh we're taking a break" (yeah just like THAT)

When they do start training together again they're both so happy about it.....

There's a chapter (that I never found translated in full) that's that one scene where Hinata messages kageyama on new years day, and kageyama gets "fluttering feelings at the bottom of his stomach." My dude be out here getting literal butterflies in his belly JUST FROM A TEXT and then he proceeds to get mad at hinata for making him feel this way 😭

Later on when they meet anyway, Hinata says he wanted to go to the shrine with kageyama and that even if they go now, it won't be the same bc then it's not "his first time" anymore.....

And the star of the show. The Grand King in Rio.

This one takes the crown for not only being the gayest, but also perhaps the most plot relevant. It's just about that time Hinata and Oikawa met in Rio.

Inevitably, they talk a bit about Kageyama, and oikawa starts downright TEASING hinata over him like... asking if they'll meet for the Olympics and stuff.

And then hinata starts spiraling because a) he's not at a point where he can meet kageyama as an equal, b) he can't remember Kageyama's face, c) he tries so hard to remember "that terrifying face" that he gives himself a tummy ache ksjhdkaldm

In the end hinata arrives at the conclusion that he and Kageyama don't need to meet now, since he isn't ready, and he recalls the promise he made to Kageyama, and how it's such a coincidence that he met Oikawa all the across the globe, and it was also a coincidence that he met Kageyama in the first place, but if life is made of coincidences then it's inevitable that they'll meet again someday... the rest is super poetic, really

ANYWAY this is it from the top of my head. I think @kagehiner might have more anecdotes since he was the one who got me into the LNs in the first place lol

[ninjatrashpanda]

Tricks and Treats (But Mostly Treats)

Written for @bucktommywinterfest Halloween Warm Up round!

Prompt: Couple Costume

Rated: T| cw: Buck and Tommy get a little suggestive in the first scene, but nothing actually happens

Relevant Tags: established relationship, BuckTommy as Uncles, Family Planning

Can be read on AO3 here.

~

“I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have been Batman,” Buck muttered under his breath, taking off his mask to run a hand through his sweaty hair. He and Tommy stood at the end of the driveway, watching Jee-Yun, dressed as a perfect little Wonder Woman, excitedly run up to the house’s front door, her already half-full, pumpkin-shaped candy basket clutched against her chest. “This thing is hot!”

With a grin, Tommy wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in to press an exaggerated kiss to his crown. And instantly regretted it, if the way his face contorted as he pulled away was anything to go by.

“Oh, wow. You’re sweating a lot.”

Buck laughed, shoving Tommy’s shoulder playfully. “See? I told you!” He held the heavy, black Batman mask in his hands, eyeing it like it, rather than the Joker, was his arch-nemesis. “Whose idea was it to wear a full-on cowl?”

Tommy bit his lip, fighting a smirk. “Yours, remember? You could’ve gone with just a mask, but you decided that anything not full Dark Knight was ‘too cheap.’”

Buck rolled his eyes, glancing over at Jee-Yun, who was happily bouncing up and down as a woman in vampire getup handed her a piece of candy. He couldn't help but smile. Seeing his niece so thoroughly enjoying herself almost made him forget about the cowl from hell. (Almost,)

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Buck said, finally conceding. He glanced over at Tommy, who looked far more comfortable in his (maskless!) Superman suit. If he stared just a little longer than necessary at the way the blue spandex stretched over Tommy’s biceps or at the big, iconic “S” that seemed to almost burst at his chest, then that was nobody’s concern but his own. “We’ll switch next year. You get to sweat your ass off, I get the nice, breathable spandex-and-underpants combo.”

Tommy chuckled, giving Buck a sly sideways glance. “I think you’d look pretty good in the Superman suit, actually. Maybe even better than me.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Superman. I’m still making you wear the cowl next year, see how you feel when you’re melting away.”

“Excuse me?” Tommy teased, feigning offense as he crossed his arms, a mock scowl on his face. “You think I couldn’t handle it?”

“I don’t know,” Buck replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s not easy to wear the cowl,” he said, holding up the mask with dramatic flair. “It’s for the elite few who can tolerate their own sweat for an entire night.”

Tommy laughed, the frown, fake as it was, instantly replaced by the scrunchy, crinkly smile Buck had come to love. The sound made Buck’s heart feel like a popsicle in the sun, and not just because of the bat cowl either. He thought the gooey, warm feeling Tommy had caused in his gut from the beginning would eventually die off, but it never had. And Buck felt more glad about that than he could ever express.

“I don’t know, Batman,” Tommy said, a playful glint in his eyes. He pulled Buck into a quick kiss on the lips now, soft, but feverish, and full of want. It only lasted for maybe two seconds, just long enough to make Buck’s lips tingle. A soft whine escaped Buck’s mouth before he could stop it when Tommy pulled away, bringing a teasing smile to his boyfriend’s face as he leaned in to whisper into Buck’s ear. “I kind of like you all hot and sweaty, you know? And something tells me you’d like me like that just as much.”

Buck felt his ears heat up, his cheeks flushing. He quickly glanced around to make sure there weren’t any kids around to hear them, his lower lip caught between his teeth, before turning back to Tommy with a dirty grin of his own. “Sounds like someone’s eager for our niece to go to bed tonight.”

“Oh, trust me,” Tommy replied, that mischievous glint only growing stronger. “I’ve been counting down the minutes since we put on our costumes. Taking them off again is half the fun, right?” He winked quickly and leaned in for another quick kiss that did nothing to stop Buck’s blood from rushing downward at the prospect of tearing the spandex off of Tommy’s chest, and arms, and everything later tonight, his mouth watering a little at the thought.

Visions of skin, maybe not as drenched as his own, but still slick with a faint sheen of sweat beneath the blue fabric, flooded Buck’s mind as he imagined peeling it away, inch by inch. The fine, curly, dark hairs on Tommy’s chest, growing from one peck to the other, would start revealing themselves, eventually traveling south, growing more and more narrow as they formed the treasure trail leading to Tommy’s groin.

Treasure trail, Buck thought with a grin as his eyes met Tommy’s again. What a fitting name. Because he sure loved following it, pulling whatever bottoms Tommy was wearing past his hips, down his thighs to his knees, revealing his-

“Uncle Tommy! Uncle Buck! Look! I got a whole Kit-Kat!”

Just then, Jee-Yun came running back down the driveway, her candy basket swinging with every step. She was practically glowing with excitement as she skidded to a stop in front of them, holding up the piece of candy triumphantly.

Buck quickly snapped out of his haze, shaking off the daydream and trying to plaster a totally innocent smile on his face, as though he hadn’t just been mentally undressing Tommy right there in the driveway.

“That’s my girl!” he cheered, leaning down to high-five her. “A whole Kit-Kat? You must have actual superpowers!”

Jee-Yun beamed, nodding enthusiastically as she unwrapped the candy with determined little fingers. Tommy crouched down to her level, brushing back a stray curl from her face. “Guess Wonder Woman knows how to pick the best houses.”

“Of course she does,” Buck agreed, ruffling her hair. “No stopping this superhero squad tonight. Now let’s go! We’ve got more candy to collect!”

Jee-Yun nodded eagerly, already starting down the street to the next house. As Buck and Tommy chuckled and followed her down the sidewalk together, Buck couldn’t resist one last glance at Tommy’s suit, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in anticipation for later tonight. He already couldn’t wait.

*

“Excuse me?”

Buck and Tommy, who’d just watched Jee-Yun skip down another driveway to the next stop of her trick-or-treat tour with a bunch of other kids they had just met here on the curb, looked over to where the voice had come from. A young woman, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, with a face full of green paint and dressed in a black witch costume, had wandered over to them, a kind smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to disturb family time. I just wanted to tell you that your daughter’s costume looks amazing! Is it homemade?”

Buck’s eyes went wide, his gaze moving from the woman’s face to Jee and back again. His mind briefly flashed back to that one time he and Eddie had taken Chris to see Santa a few years back, and he could almost laugh that something similar had happened again.

Except that unlike back then with Eddie, here and now, Buck felt a weird sense of warmth start in his chest. It spread, slow and steady, like someone had just dropped a single matchstick into the middle of a fireplace, lighting up something inside of him that he only allowed himself to think about every now and again. He and Tommy had only talked about kids in hypotheticals, a “maybe later, we’ve got time.”

And honestly, even though he loved kids, Buck was still open to not having any if Tommy didn’t want them. The two of them would always be surrounded by kids anyway, from Jee-Yun, to Chris, to Denny and Mara. Being the fun uncle was something he had always been destined to be anyway.

Still, the thought of being a Dad instead of an Uncle, even if it was only briefly because of a wrong assumption, made his insides jump with a strange sense of want.

“Uh, she’s not… we’re not…” he started stammering, his tongue tying itself into knots. He felt a little embarrassed about getting this caught off guard, and by something so comparatively trivial at that, but he couldn’t help his brain turning into mush right now. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone.

“She’s our niece,” Tommy finished for him, an easy-going smile on his lips, as if being mistaken as your niece’s father was the most normal thing in the world. “We only just got engaged a month ago, so it’s gonna be another year or two until we have one of our own. But yes, Evan made that costume himself. He’s really talented.”

Buck shot Tommy a look, a mix of surprise and flattery. “I mean, yeah, I might’ve dabbled in a bit of DIY here and there,” he said, trying to sound casual but clearly proud.

The woman grinned, genuinely impressed. “Well, it’s beautiful. And congratulations on your engagement! You two are going to be amazing dads one day.”

Buck felt that warmth in his chest intensify. He glanced at Tommy, who squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring, almost grounding way, his smile softening as he looked back at Buck. “Thanks,” Tommy replied, his gaze not leaving Buck’s. “We’re looking forward to it.”

The woman gave them a final smile and a wave before heading back up the street, leaving Buck and Tommy alone again with their thoughts and the faint laughter of kids echoing through the neighborhood.

“Did you…mean that?” Buck asked, his voice softer now, his eyes searching Tommy’s.

“Of course I did. Have you seen Jee’s costume?”

“Tommy.”

Tommy’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew, more gentle, more certain. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He tugged Buck closer, resting his forehead against his. “I’m not gonna lie, the thought of being a Dad kinda scares me. Kids are so small, and fragile, and easy to mess up.” He took a deep breath, pulling back to look into Buck’s eyes now. “But then I see you with Jee, or I hear Chim and Hen and Eddie talking about how you take to kids on calls…and I think ‘Know what? I could do it if he does it with me.’”

Buck felt the breath hitch in his throat, overwhelmed by the sincerity in Tommy’s voice. He swallowed, trying to clear the lump that had formed there, his deeply ingrained insecurities he still fought every day rearing their ugly heads and yelling at him that Tommy didn’t mean anything he said, that he was only lying to make Buck temporarily happy. He quickly shook his head to clear his brain of them.

“Tommy…” he began, his voice barely a whisper. He’d thought about having kids with Tommy before, of course he had, but somehow hearing him say it out loud…hearing that he could imagine the two of them as parents, a team, a family, made the idea feel more real and tangible than it ever had.

Tommy squeezed his hand, grounding him. “I know it’s still a while until we’re really there. We still have a whole wedding to plan before we can really think about kids. But the way you look at Jee, the way you make everyone you meet feel safe and seen…it just feels right, Evan.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Buck’s mouth, warmth flooding through him. “You think we’d be good at it? Really?”

Tommy laughed softly, the sound filling Buck with a kind of joy that felt too big for his body. “I know we would be. And besides,” he said, glancing over at Jee-Yun, who was now trading candy with a group of kids, “we’d have the best role models. Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen, Chim and Maddie, Eddie… we’re surrounded by people who’ve shown us what it means to be a family. I’d say we’ve got a pretty good head start.”

Buck looked at Tommy, his fiancé, his partner, and saw a chance at a future he had made his peace with never having. “Then let’s do it. Someday. When we’re ready.” He let out a breath, realizing how much he meant it, how much he craved it now. “I want that with you, Tommy.”

Tommy’s grin softened, and he brushed a thumb gently over Buck’s cheek. “Good. Because I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Buck smiled softly, his eyes tearing up slightly as he pulled Tommy into a tight hug. They stood there together, holding each other, surrounded by the soft glow of streetlights and the warmth of the love that had built between them.

“Uncle Buck! Uncle Tommy! Hurry up!” Jee-Yun called from a few houses down, waving them over impatiently, her skirt flowing in the breeze.

Buck chuckled, breaking the embrace. “Guess duty calls,” he said, squeezing Tommy’s hand one last time before letting go.

*

“So have you thought about how we’d do it?” Buck asked a few houses later, as Jee once again raced up a driveway. “Having kids, I mean. I’m a firefighter, you’re a firefighter-slash-rescue pilot. Our schedules are…a lot.”

Tommy hummed lowly, his arms crossing in front of his chest. “I mean, I’m pretty old. I could retire early, be your sexy house husband and take care of the kids while you’re out there fighting fires.”

Buck laughed, nudging Tommy’s shoulder. “Sexy house husband, huh? I can definitely get on board with that. But you’re not that old! Would you really give up your career? You love helping people. You love flying.”

With a sigh, Tommy reached out to grab Buck’s hand and squeeze it. There was a sincerity in his eyes that Buck hadn’t expected. He’d figured Tommy had been kidding, but… apparently not?

“Evan, I’m 41,” Tommy started with a soft smile. “By the time we actually get to the ‘having kids’ part, I’ll be, what, 45? 46? Maybe a little older, still?”

Buck blinked. A sudden wave of realization washed over him as he realized…Tommy was serious. The notion struck Buck in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Tommy was willing to give up his job for their (hypothetical) kids. He knew that Buck wouldn’t want to, that he would do it if it was the only way, but that he wouldn’t be happy about it. And instead of expecting Buck to bend and do it anyway, he volunteered himself.

Buck suddenly felt himself fall for Tommy all over again.

“Yeah…yeah, I suppose so,” he murmured. The warm feeling in his chest was almost overwhelming, but there was something else hiding in the shadows of it all, too. A sense of profound guilt. “But still, you don’t have to-”

“Evan, seriously,” Tommy interrupted gently. His smile was still just as warm as it had been before. There wasn’t a shred of the pain or resentment Buck had expected in there at all. “I joined the military at 17, went to Iraq, and then started the fire academy the moment I was back on American soil. I’ve been doing heavy labor for almost thirty years, and my body’s not gonna keep going just because I want it to. You know my back is kinda busted already. Besides, like I said, we still have a few years. It’s not like I’d have to retire tomorrow or something.”

Tommy gave Buck’s hand a squeeze, grounding them both. “And when I retire,” he continued with a gentle shrug, “I’d be more than happy to spend my days keeping the house in order, making sure there’s good food on the table, picking our kid up from school. Maybe even teaching them some skills like changing a tire or cooking, or whatever. Honestly, it sounds kind of… nice. I’m kind of already looking forward to it.”

Buck felt the familiar sting of tears prick at his eyes. Tommy really was serious about this. “You really would do that? Just for me?”

“Not for you,” Tommy corrected softly, his gaze steady and sure. “For us. For our family. Part of being a family is making sacrifices for each other. Plus, like I said, my body’s already kinda falling apart, so me staying home just…makes sense.” He grabbed Buck’s chin then, not unlike he’d done back when they had first kissed, and slightly lifted his face up. “I want this, Evan. I’m not settling, you didn’t coerce me into suggesting this, none of that. I choose to do this once it’s time because I want to, and for no other reason. And I’ll gladly keep reassuring you of this until you believe it.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and the buzz of Halloween activity around them seemed to fade into the background. Buck swallowed hard, Tommy’s dedication warming him from the inside out like hot chocolate on a cold winter night. Here was this man, this strong, resilient, steady presence in his life, who was willing to lay down his greatest passion, his purpose, his calling just to build a future together with him.

Not for the first time since he and Tommy had started dating, Buck wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

“Okay,” Buck said finally, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. “Then when the time comes, we’ll do it. We’ll figure it out together.”

Tommy’s lips curved into a smile, his eyes twinkling. “Together.”

Just then, Jee-Yun came bounding back, her eyes wide with excitement and her basket overflowing. “Look! Look! I got so much candy!”

Buck grinned and swept her up into his arms, laughing as she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement. He held her close, his heart swelling at the pure joy radiating from her. And as he looked back at Tommy, he knew that this was the start of something wonderful. Their family, their future, whatever it looked like…they’d be ready for it.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm writing a novel that criticizes the unethical way AI has been used and how newer technology is replacing older methods when they should still be available.

What I'm struggling with is to plan the story while having the tone in mind, because my main characters are goofballs, they're all supposed to bring funny moments and comic relief, but even with the comedic parts I don't want to make the social critic a satire. How do I plan a story with humorous characters doing serious stuff and keep a balance of humurous moments and serious subjects?

Balancing Humor with Serious Themes

Here are some things to keep in mind...

1 - Let the majority of the humor derive from the characters themselves. Since you say the characters are goofballs and bring comic relief, it sounds like you're already doing that. Keeping the characters as the primary source of humor helps to create a buffer between them and the actual (serious) situation.

2 - Time the comedic moments appropriately. When it comes to balancing humor with serious themes, timing is everything. The best time to use comedy in a serious story is when the tension needs to be momentarily relieved. This creates a nice contrast which makes the seriousness of the moment feel that much more serious and deepens the emotional resonance.

3 - When possible, keep the comedy relevant. Let's say you have a dramatic moment where the characters are hunkered down, waiting for something bad to happen (that they know is going to happen), and it's super tense, so one of the characters says something funny. It isn't going to make a lot of sense if they just randomly say, "Have you ever noticed you can never remember the three items you went into the grocery store to buy, but you can recite lines from a movie you saw once nine years ago?" That is a funny observation, but what does it have to do with that particular moment? How is it relevant to what's going on?

A more relevant funny observation would be, "Why is it when I'm waiting my turn to present a book report, the seconds fly by, but when you're waiting for the arrival of a blood-thirsty shapeshifter, suddenly every second takes five minutes?"

Alternatively, if the group happens to be waiting for said blood-thirsty shapeshifter while hunkered down inside a grocery store, that gives the shopping observation relevance.

4 - Work in character development by letting comedic quips reveal quirks, flaws, vulnerabilities, strengths, relationships, personal stakes, and personal journey.

5 - Avoid jarring transitions by using environmental or narrative cues to signal shifts in mood. For example, after the comedic quip is made, maybe the lights flicker and go out, or a huge shadow falls across the floor, signaling the arrival of the bad thing they're waiting for. This helps to transition between the comedic moment (and any comedic reaction) back to the seriousness of the moment at hand.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[kikyoupdates]

Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

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“...pardon me. I think I must be hearing things,” Alistair frowns. “For a moment, it almost sounded like you said you wanted to break off our engagement. But that can’t have possibly been it, so if you wouldn’t mind repeating yourself—” 

“No, you didn’t mishear me.” 

“What?” 

“I’m saying you heard correctly. I don’t want to get married to you. The engagement is over.” 

You watch as Alistair’s jaw drops open yet again, and meanwhile, your mother lets out the single most offended gasp you’ve ever heard in your entire life. With the way she’s reacting right now, you would think that she’s the one being broken up with. 

Anyways, it doesn’t matter. Everyone is free to be as outraged as they want. Your decision is final.

“[N-Name],” your mother splutters weakly. She somehow looks like she’s aged a whole decade, simply by being part of this conversation. “Don’t… don’t be ridiculous. If this is supposed to be some kind of joke, it’s not funny, young lady. Apologize to your fiancé for your rudeness.”

“But he’s not my fiancé anymore,” you say simply. “I just broke up with him.” 

“[Name]!” 

She presses a palm to her forehead and proceeds to fall rather ungraciously onto the nearest chair. She grips the arms of the chair and gasps for breath, as if she’s holding on for dear life. Really, the whole thing is needlessly overdramatic. She’s acting like she just got diagnosed with an incurable disease or something. 

Alistair approaches her hesitantly. “Countess [Last Name], are you quite alright? Should I send for help?” 

“N-No, I’m fine,” she replies, visibly gaunt. “I just… need a moment to collect myself. I’m still convinced my foolish daughter must be playing a trick on the both of us. Truly, I don’t know what came over her. She’s never done anything like this before.”

You wish you could say you feel guilty about scaring your own mother half to death, but does she really need to overreact to this extent? It’s not like Alistair’s the only fish in the sea. You can just marry someone else, for crying out loud. 

“Come on, then,” your mother urges. She looks up at you in desperation. “Take back what you said, [Name]. If you apologize profusely, I’m sure Alistair will forgive you. He’s a patient, charitable man, and you’re extremely fortunate to have him.”

You turn back towards Alistair. It’s true that he’s a good guy. You know as much from playing his route and having seen how kindly he treated the heroine. That’s exactly why this decision is the best one for the both of you. He’ll get to enjoy his fated romance without a villainess fiancée complicating things. He may not realize it right now, but you’re doing him a big favor. 

Still. I guess being broken up with all of a sudden can’t feel good. I should try and soften the blow.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and your mother audibly exhales. Her reaction is premature, however, because you have no intention of saying what she wants you to.

Instead, you double down. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to marry you,” you continue. “And it’s really nothing personal. I thought about it, and I’m not physically attracted to you at all. You seem like a very nice guy, and I respect you on a personal level. But your face just isn’t doing anything for me, and I can’t keep pretending. It just won’t ever work out between us. Sorry about this.” 

Alistair’s jaw drops open for the third time, and your mother lets out a horrified scream before openly wailing into the palms of her hands. 

“What?” you gape. “What did I say that was so wrong?” 

Needless to say, you were lying just then. Alistair is extremely attractive, but you wanted to spare his feelings and not make him feel like you dislike him as a person. It’s not like you could ever tell him the actual reason. He’ll never understand why you’re so desperate to get away from him. But once he meets the heroine and falls for her, it won’t even matter.

Alistair blinks, looking more exhausted by the second. “So… the reason you want to end our engagement… is because you don’t like how I look?” 

“Pretty much,” you nod. “See? Now you’re getting it.” 

Your mother keeps on wailing, and it only seems to be getting louder by the second. Jeez, this family is home to so many drama queens. No wonder the villainess turned out to be such a massive pain. 

“I see.” Alistair presses his lips together. He’s clearly trying to remain civil, but it must be difficult, considering you’ve all but spat in his face. “I didn’t realize you had such specific demands when it came to your future husband. I apologize for not meeting your standards. I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to change your mind?” 

“It’s an insurmountable issue, I’m afraid. Let’s just agree to cut our losses here and move on.” 

Alistair scrunches up his nose, struggling to hide his irritation. You don’t really blame him for it. Odds are he won’t want to speak to you ever again after this, but that’s exactly what you’re after. The more distance he keeps from you, the better your chances of survival. Having this hottie loathe your guts is a small price to pay for not dying.

“Very well, then. I should return home and tell my parents the news. They won’t be too pleased to hear it, but if you’re not willing to proceed with the engagement, I must respect your wishes. Good day, [Name].” 

Alistair bows, and even though your mother tries begging him to stay in between every choked-out sob, soon enough, he’s gone. 

Just like that, you’ve successfully avoided your very first death flag.

You’ve got to admit, it feels pretty good. 

“[Name]!” your mother screams. She’s apparently recovered enough of her strength to stand up from the chair, and is now glaring daggers at you. In fact, she looks like she might even be out for blood. “What in the world… is the meaning of this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

You slowly back away from her. “Um. I just ended a relationship that was doomed to fail?” 

“[Name]!” 

“Eek! Don’t hurt me!” 

You rip off your heels and start running down the hallway. Since she doesn’t have the nerve to abandon decorum and sprint after you, she opts to stand by the doorway and yell out her feelings. 

“Just wait until your father finds out about this!” she cries out. “Do you hear me? You’re in big trouble, young lady! You can’t even begin to fathom the storm that’s headed your way!” 

She keeps screaming and screaming, but the further you run, the more her voice fades into the distance. There are countless servants and other household staff that are watching the whole spectacle unfold, no doubt wondering what the hell is going on. It’s only your first day as a villainess, and you’ve already managed to become the center of attention.

Still. You successfully broke off your engagement and saved yourself from certain death. All things considered, you’d say you’re doing pretty well so far.

“[Name]!” 

…you might end up being killed by your mother instead, though.

It doesn’t take long for word of your antics to spread throughout the manor. 

Not that it really surprises you, after all the havoc you wreaked. You figured that breaking off your engagement with Alistair wouldn’t be without its fair share of trouble, but you didn’t expect your mother to react so viscerally. It was like an episode straight out of a reality TV show.

Anyways, you’re still trying to come to terms with this new body and new life of yours, but one thing you’ve quickly realized is that the servants here are super chatty. The second there’s any hot new gossip, they dive right into it. They’re rather careless about their surroundings, considering they work for a mean villainess who could easily punish them for their insolence. It’s a good thing you’re not the real [Name]. She would have probably put them through hell by now.

But you digress. The main topic today is, of course, the fact that you broke off your engagement and nearly gave your mother a heart attack. 

“Can you believe what Lady [Name] did? I heard the countess’ soul just about left her body!” 

“It was so sudden, too. Completely without warning.” 

“Wasn’t she always gushing about how much she liked him up until now? What could have possibly changed?”

“Our lady is a fickle sort, after all. Still, it is surprising. I’ve been hearing talks that she hasn’t quite been herself since this morning. Perhaps it’s true that some strange malady has taken up residence in her body…” 

Well, now that’s a little rude. You would hardly call yourself a malady. Although you most certainly have taken up residence in this body. The villainess that they loved to hate is now a thing of the past, but you’re willing to bet that they’ll appreciate this change.  

For one thing, you’re perfectly happy to overlook their gossip. It’s actually kind of fun to know that so many people are talking about you. This surge in popularity is somewhat exhilarating. 

Well, either way, you aren’t too concerned about it. You’ve already decided to take the steps towards restoring your reputation and prove to everyone that you’re a good person. You refuse to allow yourself to be labeled as the villainess, because you already know how that story goes. 

You’ve been locked in your room reading for the past little while. You were expecting your mother to storm in earlier and yell at you some more, but based on all the gossip you’ve heard from the servants, she has apparently fallen ill from shock and is lying in her bed. Seriously, such a drama queen.

Just as you’re about to turn a page and start a new chapter in the ridiculously cheesy romance novel you’re reading, someone knocks on the door.

“...Lady [Name]? May I enter?” 

“Hm? Oh, sure. Go ahead,” you beckon. 

The door opens, and you are once again faced with the nervous little maid from before. She seems to be just as apprehensive as always, the poor thing. The real [Name] must have been awful to her, if she’s close to bursting into tears every time she lays eyes on you. 

“Hey,” you greet, setting your book aside and smiling pleasantly. “How can I help you?” 

“P-Pardon the interruption, but I thought… you might want to know that your father has just returned to the estate,” she stammers. “I realize this isn’t my place, but given how your mother reacted earlier, I… I just thought I should tell you.” 

Aww. She came all this way to speak to you—something that clearly terrifies her—just to give you a heads-up? Even though the real villainess clearly didn’t treat her well, she’s still acting in your best interests and looking out for you. You’re technically not even the head of the household. Officially, she should answer to your father, first and foremost. But she still went out of her way to let you know, even if she could get in trouble for it. 

You’ve officially made up your mind. This cute little maid deserves the entire world, and you’re going to make sure she knows it. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you smile. 

She meets your gaze, only for a moment, then nods skittishly before looking away again.

“What’s your name again?” you ask. “I’m sorry if you’ve told me before, but I’ve forgotten. I think I should do a better job of remembering from now on. I’m hoping it will help people feel more comfortable around me.” 

“You want… to know my name?” 

She’s visibly taken aback, no doubt because the previous owner of this body never expressed any interest in treating the people that worked for her, like, well… like actual people.

But you’re not the same crappy villainess she’s used to. You’re determined to change your fate in every possible way, and to that end, acting like a decent human being sounds like a pretty good place to start. 

You nod encouragingly. “Yes, your name. I’d like to know, so that I remember what to call you from now on. It would really help me out. I’m going to try to remember everyone else’s names too. It might take a little while, but I’ll certainly do my best.” 

She can’t stop herself from gaping at you, which again, you can’t really blame her for. But despite her visibly wariness, she still musters up the courage to respond. 

“F-Fiona,” she replies. “My name is Fiona. But I-I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, so it's okay if you forget!” 

She’s the very first person whose name you’ve gotten to know since waking up in this world, so it’s safe to say that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon. 

You clasp your hands together and grin. “Perfect! Thank you for sharing that with me, Fiona. I hope this will help us feel closer from now on. And don’t hesitate to tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable. I’ve resolved to make a change recently, and part of that involves ensuring that the people who work for me feel at ease.” 

Fiona keeps on gaping at you. She must be struggling to wrap her head around all this. You can practically see the gears turning inside her head.

Well, you feel much better now. It’ll obviously take a while for Fiona to start trusting you, and that goes for the rest of the household staff as well, but you’re willing to put in the effort and make a change. 

“Anyways, Fiona,” you carry on, lifting up the book you were just reading, “have you read this, by any chance? If so, I was wondering what your thoughts on it were. To me, it just seems way too clichéd—” 

“[Name]!” 

Ah. That must be your father. Well, then. This is as good a time as any, you suppose. 

You set the book down and smile. “I guess that discussion will have to wait until later. Sorry for troubling you right off the bat, but do you think you could help me make a rope out of all those blankets so I can climb out of the window and run away?” 

Fiona blinks several times in quick succession, but unfortunately, she isn’t able to react in time. 

Your father bursts into the room moments later. 

Is there any chance he’s going to be chill about this?  

“[Name]!” he cries out again. “What’s this nonsense I hear about you breaking off your engagement while I was out?!” 

Hm. Honestly, it’s still too early to tell. He might not even be that mad. 

“I’m extremely mad right now!” 

Fuck. 

Your father’s arrival immediately signals for Fiona to leave. Even though she was nice enough to warn you ahead of time, there’s nothing she can do to help you at this point. Hopefully she’ll keep you in her prayers, at least. 

Fiona closes the door behind her, and you slowly stand up from the bed, taking the time to gauge your father’s expression. His nostrils are flaring as he yells at you—definitely not a good sign. You also don’t know exactly what kind of relationship the villainess had with her parents. You know that she was spoiled, but it’s clear that this engagement between you and Alistair is something they consider very important. Batting your eyelashes probably won’t get you off the hook.

But you may as well try it, just to be sure. 

“I’m sorry, father,” you say, mustering up your most convincing puppy eyes. “I just… I just didn’t want to be with him. I realized it and had to put an end to that engagement. The thought of having to marry him was too much to bear.” 

Your father narrows his eyes. “Really? Alistair Calderwood? The very same man that you were absolutely thrilled about when I first announced that our families were discussing a potential engagement?”

…huh. Right. Now that you think about it, the villainess did like Alistair quite a good deal, which is why she completely lost her shit when he fell for the heroine instead. 

Your case isn’t looking too strong. 

“Th-That was then, this is now,” you stubbornly deny. “I’ve learned a lot about myself in this time, and I now understand that we’re simply incompatible. I want to marry someone that I’m truly passionate about. I just can’t force myself to go along with this anymore.” 

“But you were speaking highly of him just the other day,” your father insists, clearly exasperated. “Last night, when I told you that he would be visiting today, I recall that you said, ‘Oh, how fun! I’ll be sure to pick out one of my finest dresses tonight!’’’

Balls. He’s really not making this easy for you, huh? 

“I was really struggling,” you nod somberly. “I kept pretending that I was happy to be with him, even though I had already decided long ago that my heart was closed off. I’m afraid he’s fallen out of favor with me, father. There’s nothing he can do to win me back anymore.” 

Your father proceeds to just stare at you for a while. You’re not sure whether he’s buying it or not. Hopefully your parents are as gullible as you’d like them to be.

“...I’ve had enough of this farce.” 

Okay, so maybe not that gullible. Duly noted. 

“We’ve always let you do as you pleased,” he grits out, clenching his fists in frustration. “I don’t concern myself with what you get up to in your personal time, so long as you do the bare minimum of what’s expected of you. And we had already agreed that you would marry someone we deemed acceptable. Alistair Calderwood is the most promising candidate you’ve ever had. And you want to squander this opportunity purely on a whim?” 

“It’s not like I’ll go unwed,” you protest. “I’ll happily marry someone else. I’m sure I can find another man that’s equally as respectable and impressive. I just don’t want it to be Alistair—” 

“Silence. Do not speak unless I tell you to speak.” 

He glares at you with an intensity you didn’t even know was possible. You involuntarily gulp and take several steps back. You’ve been so caught up in the excitement of a new life that you’d briefly forgotten what kind of setting this is. Here, young women such as yourself are basically treated like property by their own families. You live in luxury, but only under the condition that you marry into a reputable family and further elevate your parents’ status. 

Part of you had been hoping that the villainess could get away with this sort of behavior, but it seems as though she too is just a pawn in a much bigger game. 

“You’ve made a royal mess of things,” your father scowls. “And now it falls on me to fix it. I’m not sure if the Calderwood family will forgive this transgression, but you had better hope they will. Otherwise, you’re going to regret it.” 

He doesn’t elaborate on how you’ll be regretting it, and before you can ask what exactly he has in mind, he storms out of the room. 

You purse your lips. “Okay, so that probably could have gone better.”

While you were being yelled at and lowkey threatened by your father, Alistair was facing his fair share of discomfort as well.

“She did what?” 

“She called off the engagement,” Alistair repeats. His parents are every bit as incredulous as he was expecting. Well, he couldn’t quite believe the news when he heard it either. It was completely out of nowhere.

Alistair’s father, Duke Calderwood, lets out a sigh and massages his temples. “Are you quite certain that’s what she meant? Remember, I told you before. [Name] can be rather frivolous at times. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was yet another one of her mood swings.” 

“Considering she repeated it over and over again, I’d say there’s no doubt she was serious about it,” Alistair grimaces. “She… insulted my appearance. She said she wasn’t attracted to me and couldn’t imagine us being together.” 

“Why, that’s nonsense!” his mother gasps. “You’re such a handsome young man!” 

“All due respect, mother, that’s not the issue here. I had no idea how to handle such a sudden rejection, and I must admit that I’m at a complete loss.” 

Duke Calderwood shakes his head. “Like I said, she’s frivolous. But it doesn’t change the fact that she utterly disrespected you. I can’t believe her family would allow such behavior. It calls their legitimacy into question.” 

“Does it even matter anymore? She clearly has no intention of being with me. Her mother desperately tried to convince her otherwise, but she refused to even consider it. I don’t expect that she’ll have yet another change of heart. Besides, I would be humiliated to have to take her back after how she spoke to me.” 

“Right. It’s a frustrating turn of events, but we can’t forgive such an oversight. Perhaps, with the right token of apology…” 

“Father,” Alistair glares. “I don’t want to be with her anymore either. She treated me like dirt.” 

“Yes, yes. But, well, the arrangement we had made with [Name]’s family was quite favorable to us. It’s just a shame things had to end this way,” the duke sighs.

Alistair turns away from him. “If it’s all the same, I’d like to be alone for a little while. Regardless of how [Name]’s family chooses to handle this, I have no intention of taking her back. I hope you can understand.” 

He walks off before waiting to hear how his parents respond. It doesn’t concern him anymore. Frankly speaking, he didn’t want to get married to you in the first place. He’s heard the rumors. He knows that you have a rather infamous reputation, and that you act selfishly with no regard to those around you. He never wanted someone like that as his bride-to-be, but he went along with it to be a good son and make his family proud. In a way, this whole thing is a blessing in disguise. He’s no longer bound to you. 

Which is why it’s so strange. His chest should feel ten times lighter now that he doesn’t have to deal with you anymore. Whoever his next fiancée is will surely be a much better option. 

Perhaps it’s the sting of rejection. The bitterness that comes with being scorned so readily. The way you looked at him back there… it was like you couldn’t wait to be done with him. He’s never experienced such utter disinterest before. 

“What a waste of time,” Alistair mutters under his breath. No, it’s better this way. Some temporary frustration is nothing compared to how much he would have suffered if he was stuck having to marry you. 

He didn’t care about you to begin with, so there’s no reason he should care about you now. 

Lost in thought, Alistair bumps into someone as he turns the corner. 

“...ah. My bad, my bad. I should have been more careful.” 

Alistair scowls, already irritable because of the way his day started off. The person he’s just run into certainly doesn’t help. It’s a familiar face, but not one he’s particularly fond of.

“Hello, Rowan,” Alistair greets half-heartedly, adjusting the collar of his jacket in place. “I didn’t realize you were visiting today.” 

Rowan offers a languid smile. “Yes, well, my father had business in the area, so I thought I’d stop by.” 

“Is uncle doing well?” 

“As well as he can be. No different than usual, I suppose.”

“I see. That’s good to hear.” Alistair awkwardly clears his throat. “Anyways. I’m not feeling too well at the moment, so you’ll have to excuse me for not sticking around. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

He pushes past Rowan as quickly as he can, making no effort to hide his discomfort. Rowan knows it all too well. He’s used to his interactions with his cousin being brief, superficial, and painfully tense. Not that he minds. And besides, there’s something of far greater concern right now.

“Did I hear that right?” Rowan blinks. “Alistair’s fiancée… broke up with him?”

He happened to overhear while he was walking down the hallway, and he could hardly believe his own ears. To think that the engagement Alistair’s parents were so looking forward to would be completely destroyed, in the blink of an eye. It’s just so… so…

Hilarious.

“Pfft—!” 

Rowan covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, struggling to keep from laughing aloud. It’s just too good to be true. It’s the best news he’s gotten in a long time. 

“Ah, incredible,” Rowan chuckles. He wipes a hand across his eyes, which have already begun to tear up from amusement. “That woman, [Name]. She sounds like a fucking riot. Perhaps I ought to meet her for myself.” 

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[applestorms]

quickly putting this thought out there while i work on a longer astronaut ramble cuz i'm impatient and this feels relevant to recent conversations. SO: on the topic of light's humanity...

i think there are two key functions that light (emotionally? instinctively? intellectually?) feels that his sense of self MUST fulfill in order for him to be fully satisfied/comfortable with himself as a person. these are:

light must see himself as human, as that is a key part of what makes him Perfect (and also, Pure?)

light must see himself as something above/outside of/detached from human, as that is what allows him to be absolved of murder (if he's a god/the hand of the state/Justice incarnate, he does not have to be judged according to the same ethical rules as humans)

it is this contradiction that light Must uphold throughout the entire series following his initial two killings with the death note. he cannot allow either side to fully drop away without losing the Light that he sees as intrinsically Core to who he is and who he wants to be.

it could maybe be argued that light slowly starts to do away with point (1) as the series progresses, particularly as he loses himself in the roles of L and KIRA, but i would argue that this is not the case. even in the final confrontation with near, light still talks about himself as a person-- in part, because he believes that he needs that Humility in order to garner the respect and praise of other people. he isn't a monster like higuchi, and he isn't quite a totally normal, average person anymore either, but some level of humanity must be a part of who he is or his origins in order to make his godhood/martyr status that much more grand and righteous.

anyway, another possibly contentious point that i Do feel pretty strongly about here is the fact that light connects his supposed purity/perfection to his human side specifically. observe:

this purity point in his little explanation of who he thinks KIRA is always stands out to me because it's the one point that L disagrees with (though i always forget he just says this internally and not out loud =3=")

point is-- at least at this point in the story, light sees his Youth and Innocence as a part of what makes him Pure and Righteous. he is not so young as to be totally naive about the horrors of the world, but he is not old enough to be completely jaded and pessimistic about it either. he is neither stupid, nor petty about his killings. every action is a conscious choice, well thought out in advance in order to pursue the distinct and singular goal of worldwide salvation.

i can't help but see the parallels in the fact that this is likely how other people viewed light growing up before he got the death note-- intelligent beyond his years, in a way that surpasses even most of the adults around him, but still with the Purity of his youth, perhaps unburdened in a way, optimism not yet eroded. he's still trying to live up to the praise other people pile on him and be recognized by their standards. he has an overwhelming ego, yes-- but in a japanese social context, where humility and honoring your elders is key, where a more collectivist mindset means that an individual must be held up through the acceptance and recognition of others and not their own self-praise, he has more of a nuanced social game to play.

[lightningant]

niche but sadly very core Voldemort meta for me (which not based in anything but vibes I will admit) is that I think he has a lot of unresolved emotions about his parents and it manifests in bizarre ways because he doesn't even understand that's what's bothering him

I'm obsessed with giving him a parent [after he makes at least one horcrux] because a part of him wants to be nurtured, celebrated, and understood. A strong factor "Lord Voldemort" is his determination to essentially create himself; become singular, separate from any line. There is no first name-surname, he is only himself. Because being a part of a line has done nothing for him. It has been wielded against him, it has provided no care, it amounted to shallow indignity on both ends.

So I do think he'd get a lot out of, forgive me for saying this about a platonic relationship, a parent who matches his freak; a boymom who prioritizes him and is willing to engage in complete enmeshment to soothe his feelings of rejection and displacement.

And he knows he's never going to get it, despite not knowing he wants it. So he wants to be the parental enmeshment boymom.

I see Snape as the clearest taste of this, with his abnormal closeness to Voldemort in the inner circle, learning dark magic no one else seems to get to learn, and his blood/class status being completely irrelevant. Voldemort wants to ignite something in him that his past self never got. Your muggle dad sucks. Your pureblood family won't associate with you. But here I am, to raise you as a man like you should be raised, help you become singular and isolated from all others except myself, and I will not interrogate why this is so important to me.

But this only extends to young adults straight out of school; he detests children, and the younger they are, the more repulsed and anxious he gets. I don't think Voldemort trying his hand at boymoming to express what he thinks a fair and just parental influence would look like would make him a good parent. Not even in the gothic way, he'd just be mediocre and avoidant. Sad!

Anyway. Having a mentor figure he's spoken to and had a relationship with is a great spotlight for making this dynamic more stark. A late mentor means a third parent that disappointed, abandoned, and rejected Tom Riddle, confirming Voldemort's hypothesis he must create himself anew, and thus another parent must be eradicated from his personal history and his hurt must be buried where it is no longer relevant. And I'm aromantic so platonic derangement is innately more appealing to me in every situation.

[blackteatarot]

Tips for Making Your Own Correspondences

I would like to start this by saying please be culturally aware when doing this. Respecting closed practices is something we should all be doing!! Some things are not always yours to use, please be considerate of that!! This quick guide is meant to make the most of the things you have on hand, and can be used for anything you can spare for spell work.

Start by making a profile of your object. List out its functions, associations, characteristics, etc. to get a full understanding of it. I mentioned starch in a previous post so I’ll use it as and example:

Starch is used as a thickening agent in cooking, this is the time I interact with it most often. Sticking with that thought, starches come from lots of different vegetables. Common ones in recipes are corn, potatoes, and peas.

There are already many associations here: cooking, various plants/vegetables, the recipes that require these ingredients. This initial list of associations is where the profile starts, research the various things that fall under these main points to analyze your object. This has the potential to be very complex, so if you want to stick close to what is relevant to you, that’s okay!! This is with the assumption that after research you can determine any parts of the object’s history you should be wary of, just be mindful!!

Once you’ve created your profile, use it to make your correspondences!! Going back to the starch example, I mentioned it being used to “thicken your skin.” I used starch specifically in this because it’s something the object already does. This object is already capable of this thing, so I call on that thing in my spell work. That is my basis for making correspondences. Simple but effective, and has opened plenty of doors in what I’ve used. Being a witch is about being crafty and making the most of what you have!! I hope this post helps people do that!! As always, do your own research, be safe, and happy witching ♧

[the-storyteller78]

Ok, midterms are officially done and I’m finally getting my Vengeance Saga thoughts together. HERE WE GO.

I will be very frank. This was not my favorite saga. I did really like portions of it, and I was still left gobsmacked and mouth agape by the end of it, but overall, it was not one of the stronger sagas. Of course, I have nothing but respect for Jorge and all the amazing voices who contributed to this musical. Epic is still very dear to me, whatever qualms I may have. And I have the privilege of yapping on Tumblr without having done any of the work in figuring out all the logistics of creating a musical, so just remember: These are my opinions. Just me blabbering cus I like talking about Epic.

(And I know this would be very unconventional, but when the stage production of Epic comes out, I almost want there to be an intermission sort of thing after the Wisdom Saga or something. I don’t know how that would work out, but I feel like it would provide an indication of how much time has passed for Odysseus on the island.)

“Not Sorry For Loving You.” I felt nothing. I understand that Calypso has suffered because of her punishment of isolation, and I sympathize with what she had to go through. But I do not like her at all. I loathe her. Her tragic backstory does not give her permission to keep a man prisoner for seven years and ignore his desperate pleas to be allowed to leave. It does not give her leave to constantly pursue him when he has unequivocally told her that he is married and very much NOT. INTERESTED. And that’s barely even touching on the implications of sexual harassment. I was not happy with the choice to make Odysseus say that he loves her at all, even if it’s not romantic, but I was honestly very satisfied by the absolute stone-cold expression he had in Gigi’s animatic. That is not the face of a man who cares one bit about someone who kept him captive.

Anyhow. Moving on (because I’ll never stop talking about it if I don’t).

I really feel that “Dangerous” and “Charybdis” could’ve been combined in some way. Look, I love Troy Doherty’s voice. Every verse he sings in Epic is such a jam. But I have to say that “Dangerous” is probably one of the less narratively important songs in the entire musical. We know the journey is dangerous; it’s BEEN dangerous the whole time. No reason that would change now, especially with Poseidon still after him. And I know some people think “Charybdis” could be taken out, but I kind of like that the idea of him being dropped into this super scary situation right after leaving Ogygia but rallying himself and declaring that he’s still fighting. He’s not giving up. The way I see it, Odysseus’ lyrics in “Charybdis” are a meaningful specifically because he is returning to himself, he’s not willing to just die anymore like he was seriously considering on Ogygia. He has hope. I think it would be interesting to have “Charybdis” come right after “Not Sorry For Loving You,” have Hermes appear towards the end of the song, then have Odysseus sing his adorable little Penelope I’m coming home my love don’t worry moment. I don’t know how that would work out musically, but I’m sure someone could figure it out.

AND THEN POSEIDON POPS OUT OF THE OCEAN. “Get in the Water” was pretty intense; I don’t really have much to say about it. The voices of his mom, Eurylochus, and Polites echoing around him as he teeters on the brink of death had me teary-eyed. I’ll be real though, I’m not sure why the wind bag was relevant. It was such a lose-lose situation. If he doesn’t open the bag, he gets drowned by Poseidon. If he does open the bag to survive and fight Poseidon, he can’t go home. Either way, he loses. Was it like that on purpose because Zeus was trying to be a jerk even after flash-frying his daughter??

(Also, I don’t know what the physics or whatever of a super powerful storm bag jet pack is, but I somehow doubt it would be a viable option)

“600 Strike.” I wanted to like this song. And I will freely admit, the ending had me breathless and absolutely on the edge of my seat. However, I was definitely struggling not to cringe when he yelled 600 strike. I don’t know why. I was trying so hard to be cool about it, but I just could not. And I don’t get how he beat Poseidon with a regular old sword in the middle of an ocean. AN OCEAN. WHICH POSEIDON CONTROLS. We saw how helpless Odysseus and his crew were against Poseidon in “Ruthlessness,” and now he just goes down after a few blows from Odysseus who, by the way, does not have any divine enhancements or support at the moment. The wind bag doesn’t give him super strength. His sword isn’t magically able to cut a god. How is he suddenly able to beat him? The power of friendship?? At least the trident doing damage makes sense because it’s Poseidon’s own weapon. Which brings me to my final point. Like I said earlier, the end of “600 Strike” was really impactful. However, because I don’t think it makes sense for Poseidon to have been in that position to begin with, I can’t say that it sat entirely well with me from a narrative standpoint. I’m not sure what I would’ve liked to see, but maybe I’ll make a separate post about it once I mull it over some more.

OK THAT’S A WRAP. Thanks to everyone who managed to get to the end of this rant. Went waaaay longer than I expected, but what can I say. I’m just a girl.

[isagrimorie]

The Wrap interview with Jac Schaeffer are out. Relevant quotes below:

On Rio/Lady Death:

So our notion of Death and her power set, because we were doing witches and because witches are rooted in nature, we wanted our version of Death to be death and life in constant conversation. We didn’t want Death to be destruction. We didn’t want Death to like, walk by things and they wither around her. We wanted it to be an actual flow. 

And I think that’s sort of my life view, and I would say a lot of the folks in the room too, that we should endeavor not to fear death. That it is a part of life, that it can be beautiful. We were all born. We all die. 

[snip]

If Agatha is going to be in a relationship with Death, Agatha would have the upper hand.” How hot is that for our main girl, right? Our protagonist has Death whipped. We were just like, totally gaga over that idea.

HAHA. We all know Death is whipped but to have Jac say it flat out. I LOVE IT.

[snip]

Well, I want to talk about the kiss itself too. Was that their first kiss? Because if the kiss is what killed her, and Rio stopped her from almost kissing her on the road… Was that their first?

I don’t think so. I think that that was — we call that the kiss of death, that was always the design, that Agatha wouldn’t be able to sustain Death’s power. If Agatha used her succubus power against Death, that it would kill her. So that’s the sort of mechanism in play. 

We always wanted it to be a kiss, however, for the relationship of it, for the beauty of it, for the culmination of the arc of this chapter of their love affair. I believe there are other chapters.

But I also feel like, and this is kind of buried beneath, Agatha has this power that only works when she’s attacked, which is one of my favorite things about her, because that’s so complex, and it renders her isolated no matter what. She is a naturally tribal creature, and she cannot fulfill that because of her power set. And I really loved the idea of seeing her use her power set, but she’s not being blasted, that it is a kiss that triggers her power set.

So that’s succubus powers in the witch world, that it does seem like she is born with.

I always assumed Agatha was a loner but to know she’s naturally tribal but hero original coven almost murdered her. And ever since then she hasn’t trusted a coven since. The Closest was the coven in the present day and she almost had it. She enjoyed being a coven leader (as per Kathryn Hahn) but Evanora Harkness ruined it.

[snip]

And we thought about, you know, was Death there when she killed her original coven? How did their love affair evolve? We even went down a road of like, they lived together in a sweet little cottage. We talked about it a lot, because we believed in them. There was a time when they were lovers and partners.

JAC. EXCUSE ME.

Rio and Agatha lived in a sweet little cottage???

They didn’t go down the path because they wanted to focus on Agatha and Nicky, and with the episode count they have, I Get it but also, as i keep saying this is why a 9 episode run felt too slight because a 13 episode season would welcome that detour. And have a chance to breathe.

BUT ALSO LIVED IN A WEE LITTLE COTTAGE.

[The Wrap]

[jina1028]

Mine

Sunghoon x fem!reader

Part 3 of Beautiful nuisance

Part 1 / Part 2

Word count: 6k

Categories: Sunghoon x fem!reader, dom!Sunghoon, angst, a little bit of fluff, smut, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, snowballing (kinda?), kissing, marking, fingering, masturbation, blowjob, exibition kink, voyeurism, cum play, cockwarming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, crying (the sex was that good), dom/sub undertones, cuddling, mentions of aftercare, tell me if I missed anything

A. N. Guys I put my heart and soul into this, I hope you enjoy! I feel like this may be the dirtiest smut I've ever written idk you tell me...

I think the series might end like this, tell me what you think, if I should write a continuation or like some kind of spin-off not relevant to the general plot or something.

As always 🔞 MDNI 🔞

Pics are not mine, characters and events described in my jobs do not depict real people or events.

Thanks for reading, enjoy!

~♡~

Guilt.

That's all you felt on monday when Jisung showed up with a timid smile at the door of the office you shared, as usual holding a warm cup of your favorite coffee in his big hands.

You tried to greet him as usual but you could feel your face muscles stiffen as you half smiled at him, taking the cup from him, careful not to graze his fingers doing so.

You knew you would feel awkward meeting Jisung at work after Sunghoon's request, especially for the fact you had sex with the man now in front of you, and you barely replied to his texts the day after.

He probably was thinking he did something wrong, you felt it meeting his gaze behind his specs.

He looked at you with confusion in his dark brown eyes, awkwardness and like he was holding back from asking tons of questions.

You, yourself were holding back from trying to explain the situation to him, to reassure him of never doing anything wrong at all. Hell, what could you even say to explain yourself?

Hey, I tried to use you to forget about Sunghoon, who works for our biggest competitor, who I had sex with and probably have feelings for, and now I can't talk to you ‘cause he said so and I feel like a pathetic bitch ‘cause I also like you.

Yeah, that summed up the situation but would have sounded like absolute bullshit.

You decided to momentarily ignore the elephant in the room and sat at your desk, your still untouched coffee by the side of your computer screen, as you started going through your emails.

Jisung stood there by the door for a couple of seconds, then he just feebly sighed and sat at his own computer, letting the room fall silent, the only sign of life the sound of your keyboards and mouses clicking for a while.

You glanced at him now and then, feeling the tension in the room, but you quickly shifted your gaze back to your screen as he suddenly rolled back on his chair, stretching his long arms above his head with a low grunt.

He briefly turned to look directly at you as he stood up.

“I need some fresh air, you wanna come with me to the balcony?”

You looked at him as he adjusted his dark blue tie around the collar of his white shirt.

You broke eye contact immediately, going back to type some more before replying “I need to finish this now, sorry.”

He silently nodded, grabbing his coat and exiting the room without adding a word.

As soon as Jisung left the room you let out a shaky breath.

Acting cold and detached was going to be more difficult than you expected, and you wondered if this was even the right decision.

You liked him and didn't want him to think you acted like that because of him. Also you had to work with him, you needed to get along.

How did you get yourself in such a situation?

The next day replayed almost the same, you barely acknowledged him as you started working right away, trying to stay focused all morning, until it was lunch break.

Jisung glanced at you a few minutes past 12.

“Do you wanna have lunch together? Our usual place added a new plate to the menu I wanted to try…” he trailed off as you stopped typing on your keyboard.

“Sorry, I'm on a diet, I think I'm gonna skip lunch…” you lied.

“Y/N… Is something wrong? You barely texted back the other day, yesterday you didn't drink your coffee and didn't have lunch because you didn't feel good… Now you're skipping lunch because you're on a diet?”

Jisung frowned, looking at you with both anger and pain in his eyes.

You didn't know how to respond, you just bit your lips, looking away from his deep brown eyes, only managing a weak “I'm sorry…”

“For what exactly?”

You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves.

“For having sex with me?” Jisung’s voice was rising in frustration.

“Keep your voice down! What if someone hears?” you tried to shush him.

“Do you regret it?” his voice lowered just a little bit as he started nervously biting on the inside of his cheeks and clenching his hands into fists, his eyebrows a straight line as he tried to keep his composure.

“What? No-” you interrupted yourself “Are we really talking about this at work, Jisung?”

He looked at you shrugging “You ignore my texts, where am I supposed to talk about it?”

He had a point…

“Listen, I care about you, I don't regret what happened saturday night. I just… need to fix something with someone else, then-”

Jisung interrupted you “Is it Sunghoon?”

“Yeah… Honestly, I'm really confused right now, I need to clear my mind, then I promise we'll talk about whatever you want.”

You tried to make him feel your sincerity by locking eyes with him. You saw hurt and sorrow in his gaze, which broke your heart, especially knowing it was your fault.

Jisung grabbed his coat and exited the door “See you later.”

The rest of the day went on in total silence between the two of you, until it was time to leave.

You two went separate ways outside the company building, barely looking at each other or saying bye.

You felt like total shit, you absolutely fucked up.

As you dragged yourself home, you bought some pizza on your way, you didn't even eat all day.

When you got home you ate your dinner, forcing the food down into your tight stomach, and started getting ready to finally meet Sunghoon.

A warm shower helped you relieve your tension from the hard day at work and your unforgiving thoughts, your mind constantly going back and forth between Jisung and your sorrow, and Sunghoon and your impatience.

Not knowing what was about to come made you nervous, you were scared of worsening the whole situation between you and the two men.

A cold breeze made you shiver and tighten your black coat around your body as you went on your way to meet Sunghoon, entering a taxi, looking at the passing lights outside the window as pop music softly played from the car's speakers.

The longer the wait, the more your anxiety built up, until you eventually reached your destination, paying for your drive and finding yourself staring up at the tall building towering over you.

Sunghoon's apartment was right there, and you took your phone from your black purse to inform him of your arrival.

He texted you his internal number as you heard the main door open for you.

You entered the luminous, spacious hall and waited for the elevator. Once inside you checked your reflection in the full mirror in front of you, fixing the hem of your black skirt as you opened your coat, the temperature warm enough compared to the weather outside.

Reaching the 14th floor the elevator's door opened on a long, illuminated hallway, your heels echoing as they clicked on the black, glossy tiles on the floor with every step that brought you closer to Sunghoon's door.

You stopped in front of the white door, ringing the bell and taking deep breaths before the lock clicked open.

When Sunghoon appeared on the other side of the door a bit of your tension dissipated, and you realized it was due to the fact you missed him, missed his deep gaze on you, his gentle smile, the same he displayed right now in front of you, extending his hand to you, inviting you in.

You let his warm hand take yours as he gently pulled you inside, closing the door behind you, guiding you to the spacious living room and sitting on a black sofa while getting rid of your coat.

The living room connected to the kitchen in a big open space where black, white and gray were the main colors. It looked tidy and clean, and a few floor lamps immersed the space into a dim, warm light.

The big window next to the sofa provided a nice view of the city lights.

You noticed two tumbler glasses on his black coffee table, along with some ice cubes and liquors on the side.

“I missed you, Y/N” Sunghoon left your hand to caress your cheek, not moving any further to let you slowly get accustomed to his touch again.

You relished in the warmth of his touch “I missed you too…” your words couldn't be more sincere.

“What took you so long?” Sunghoon slightly frowned as he searched your eyes for an answer before you could even reply after a few moments of thought.

“I… I was scared. I still am.”

“Why?” he pressed, his deep eyes still locked to yours, hand now resting on yours on the sofa.

“I don't know, many things I guess…”

He stayed silent, waiting for you to continue as he took a bottle from the coffee table, pouring the liquor in your glasses. He took one and offered it to you, which you gladly accepted and held in your hand, taking a small sip.

“Our job… It's dangerous to get involved with one another, we're supposed to be rivals, not to have a relationship, or whatever you wanna call it” you shook your head, finally letting someone else know the issues that bored into your mind all this time.

“How can we separate the two things? I can't” you sighed, taking another sip, letting the bittersweet liquor soothe your mouth and your mind.

Sunghoon just listened in silence, thinking about the right answer for your question, failing to find one.

“What if we're both rivals and lovers? That's what we are, Y/N.”

You looked at him confused, still in need of finding a solution to this issue.

“We'll just act as usual when we're working, you think you can do that?” he asked.

You nodded, listening to him as he continued.

“And we won't talk about work when we're together.”

He made it that simple, but it wasn't, for you.

What if you fell in love? Would you still be able to act as usual while you worked? Wouldn't it be too difficult for you not to let your feelings for him influence your performance?

What would happen if your companies found out about what was happening between the two of you?

If you fell for each other how could you build a normal relationship together if your jobs couldn't even allow that?

You wanted to ask all those questions but stayed silent, not wanting to admit you were scared of falling for him, not knowing if he even felt the same.

He saw your hesitant demeanor, aware of the storm of thoughts that was probably going on into your head.

“I'm scared too” Sunghoon admitted, his simple confession pulling you out of your train of thoughts.

You looked at him surprised, even a bit relieved, you felt like maybe he could understand how you felt.

“Because I want you to be mine, and I know it will be difficult” he continued, squeezing your hand into his.

“But I wanna try…” he finally stated.

Sunghoon lifted your hand to his face, pressing his soft lips on your knuckles, looking sweetly into your eyes.

He kept kissing your hand, observing you from under his long lashes as he inhaled your hypnotic scent, until he used the same hand that still held yours to pull you closer to him.

The sudden movement caused you to press your body into his, your free hand resting on his broad chest to prevent you from falling on top of him.

He brought his hand to your nape as he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a warm kiss.

You gladly let his tongue slip into your mouth, intertwining with yours as the kiss deepened, making you moan into his mouth as his hands traveled on your body, eventually cupping one of your breasts through the thin fabric of your maroon shirt.

Sunghoon kept kissing you fervently, massaging and stroking his thumb on your right breast until he felt your nipple harden under his teasing touch, earning a shaky moan from you.

He smirked into the kiss, starting to work on the buttons of your shirt to reveal your white lace bra.

He drew back from you to fully admire the view, mentally cursing at the sight, when something else caught his attention.

A splotch of color on the otherwise perfect skin at the base of your neck, purple and yellow mingling together in what looked like a relatively recent hickey.

You followed his gaze as you noticed his eyes darkening, gasping at the realization and covering up the mark with your hand, which Sunghoon immediately grasped and tore from your skin to prevent you from hiding.

“What's this?” he didn't even raise his voice a little bit, but the tone was scary.

When you didn't reply, still trying to find your words, Sunghoon let his other big hand fall on your thigh with a smack, a yelp leaving your mouth. You could see a red mark forming through the thin black tights you were still wearing.

“Was it that guy at the cafe?”

You avoided his stare, looking at your reddened thigh as you hesitantly nodded in response.

“So you fucked him too?”

Sunghoon's eyes felt both icy and scalding hot as he glared at you with knitted brows.

“It was before you told me to stop seeing him…” you managed to explain, not sure if that made it any better.

He chuckled darkly as he lightly scratched the mark on your neck with his thumb.

“Should I mark you up, ruin you for everyone who even think they can fuck you?”

You gulped the knot forming in your throat as Sunghoon tilted your neck to the side, assaulting your skin on the same spot Jisung had marked, licking, biting and sucking, with the goal of ruining your neck for everyone to see for the next two weeks.

The feeling of his lips on your sensitive skin and the bites on your neck sent shivers down your spine to your core, making you whimper in both pain and pleasure as Sunghoon painted your skin, one of his hands pulling your hair to keep you steady as he marked you up, his other arm embracing you in a possessive manner.

After a while you started lightly pushing your hands on his chest, your neck too sensitive to endure his sucking and biting anymore.

He detached from your skin with one last harsh suck, eyeing his work of art, satisfied.

Sunghoon let your open shirt slide down your shoulders, completely removing it, as he attached his lips to your skin once again, traveling down your chest, sucking a trail of purple marks on his way to your left nipple, sliding the strap of your bra down your shoulder to expose your breast and suck lightly on your bud.

He intensified his ministrations the more you moaned, tangling your fingers in his thick hair and pulling as you felt him suck harshly, then grazing his teeth on the hardened bud, making you whimper.

You started to feel uncomfortable, your panties now drenched in your arousal as you rubbed your thighs together, your movement not going unnoticed by Sunghoon.

He suddenly stood up, pulling you up with him.

“Strip. Just keep your bra and panties.”

His commanding tone didn't leave any doubts and you obediently stepped out of your heels, removing your skirt and tights, then waiting for his next order.

Sunghoon rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, then he sat back down on the sofa, palming himself through his dark jeans as he ogled your almost completely naked body.

“I don't think marking your neck was enough…”

Confusion must've been visible on your face as he chuckled, then he instructed you once again.

“Lay down on my lap, I need you ass up on my legs.”

He patted his thighs while looking lustfully into your eyes, as you hesitantly stepped forward to position yourself on his lap.

“Sunghoon, please…”

He interrupted you, looking straight into your pleading eyes “Don't you think you deserve a punishment?”

You honestly thought you deserved it, you were just scared of what awaited you, since this was your first time experiencing that kind of treatment.

You nodded in defeat, digging your nails into your own fists as you waited for your deserved punishment.

Sunghoon groped your ass cheeks, appreciating your choice of wearing a matching set of lingerie once again, as he bit his bottom lip preparing for the first hit.

His right hand left your cheek and came down in an instant, smacking your skin loudly as you whimpered.

“Don't tense up, it's gonna hurt more” he suggested, massaging your reddening skin.

Then he smacked your other cheek, giving it the same treatment as the other one, massaging as his big handprint formed on your skin.

Sunghoon moved the thin fabric of your panties to fully expose your skin, the material pressing up into your slit as he pulled, exposing your wet folds to him as well.

“Fuck” he cursed under his breath, another smack making your ass jiggle, the burning sensation soon soothed by Sunghoon's massage, his thumb teasing your folds as he did so.

Your whimpers turned into moans the more he smacked and massaged your ass, pain bordering into pleasure, your mind and your body no more capable of distinguishing the two, as you unconsciously started rubbing your thighs together to soothe your throbbing pussy.

Of course that didn't go unnoticed by Sunghoon, who was starting to feel uncomfortably tight in his jeans.

He kept smacking your ass as more blood rushed to the surface of your skin, making it feel like it was on fire, as you whimpered and yelped, an unexpected moan escaping now and then.

When he was sure his handprints would last for days on your ass he instructed you to move a bit, so now your face was at the same level of his crotch, while he unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them along with his black boxers.

“Now be a good girl and open up for me.”

Sunghoon lightly slapped his stiff dick on your cheek, urging you to turn your face and take it in your mouth.

You obeyed without a second thought, genuinely wanting to pleasure him as much as you could to make up for your mistakes.

You wrapped your lips around his tip as your tongue swiped up the underside into the slit, tasting a salty drop of precum, the suction making him groan as he caressed the top of your head.

His free hand slid down your body, past your aching ass, reaching your neglected cunt.

Sunghoon pulled your panties to the side and dipped his long fingers between your folds, spreading your slick and drawing circles on your clit.

Your moans sent vibrations through his dick, eliciting another groan as he slightly thrusted his hips up into your warm mouth, his hand keeping your head in place allowing him to push deeper.

He grinned at your whimper, fangs poking out. He started to shallowly rut into your mouth, hissing every time he would graze the back of your mouth as you let out choked moans due to the constant movements of his fingers on your clit.

Sunghoon suddenly slipped a finger inside your hole, making you mewl around his dick, curling his finger and soon adding a second one, stretching you out so good you started to unconsciously push your hips back onto his hand, planting your knees in the cushions.

“Fuck, so greedy you fuck yourself on my fingers while I fuck your mouth…”

You moaned at his dirty words.

“Such a good girl, keep going…”

He hissed as he pushed your head lower on his thick cock, hitting the back of your mouth over and over with his thrusts until it pushed past into your throat, making you gag and choke.

You should've seen that coming, Sunghoon was a head pusher, you knew, and you were reminded well as he kept your head pressed down while you gagged and struggled to breathe around his cock, drool coating his length and throat spasming on his tip as he groaned loudly.

“Keep fucking yourself, who told you to stop?”

Sunghoon mocked you, finally letting go of your head and allowing you to slip his dick out of your mouth, gasping for air, a mix of drool and precum dribbling down your chin.

He curled his fingers still inside your cunt and thrusted hard into you a few times, making you yelp in both surprise and pleasure.

“I told you to fuck yourself on my fingers.”

You resumed your movements, feeling already tired and spent for enduring his spanking and struggling to breathe, but you obeyed nonetheless, chasing both your pleasure and his approval.

“If you do a good job and make yourself come like this I'll reward you.”

Sunghoon twisted his wrist, positioning his hand so his thumb grazed your slick clit with your every movement, while he used his other hand to grab his shaft and tap it on your swollen lips.

He didn't need to speak for you to open your mouth and eagerly start sucking again on the tip, allowing him to guide you up and down on his flushed dick as he pulled your hair.

He was more gentle this time, holding back from harshly fucking your mouth and so allowing you to focus on your task.

You kept moving your hips against his hand, his long fingers reaching deep, occasionally curling and stroking your g-spot, making you clench hard and loudly moan around his shaft.

Sunghoon's dick twitched every time you clenched on his fingers, imagining how it would feel once he finally fucked your tight, sopping cunt, while at the same time he struggled not to come at the sight and feeling of your pretty lips wrapping around his cock, stretching so well to accommodate his size, lewd, wet sounds from both your mouth and your pussy clouding his mind.

He bit his bottom lip hard as he tried to push back his approaching orgasm, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his jaw slacked and a breathy moan escaped his lips.

“You close?” he managed to keep a steady voice as he noticed you started clenching harder and more often on his fingers, your moans growing in volume.

You fucked yourself a couple more times as Sunghoon kept curling his fingers, aiming at your sweet spot, and you came hard, your walls spasming around his digits, your juices coating them and leaking out of your cunt onto his hand.

Sunghoon took that as his signal.

He abruptly removed his fingers from your pussy, yanking you off his cock as he quickly stood up, clenching his fist around his shaft.

“Sit pretty and open up.”

You obediently sat in front of him with your knees on the cushions as he faced you, jerking off as you opened your mouth for him.

He fisted himself a few times, breathing harshly, then he grabbed your jaw as he laid his engorged tip on your tongue and shot load after load, a few hitting your throat, but most of his cum collecting on your tongue.

Sunghoon hissed and groaned, swiping his tip on your bottom lip, smearing the last few drops on it.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, waiting for his next instructions.

“Remove you panties, sit back, spread your legs for me and use my cum to fuck yourself.”

You let your panties fall to the ground as you stood, then you moved to let your back rest against the sofa and you spread your legs with your knees bent, carefully aiming at your pussy as you let Sunghoon's cum fall from your mouth onto your clit and folds.

Sunghoon watched, enraptured, as you reached your fingers to your folds, collecting the cum you just spat on yourself to bring it downward to your hole, pushing it inside with two fingers and pumping a few times.

“This is my reward” he stated, “letting you use my cum to pleasure yourself.”

You whined, embarrassed as you let him watch you finger yourself, your face hotter than ever.

“What, it's not enough for you?” he asked in a condescending tone.

You shook your head as you continued to finger yourself, stopping only to gather the slick cum that seeped out from your hole only to push it back in, gaining a hum of approval from Sunghoon.

He patted your head with a sly smirk on his lips.

“If you make yourself squirt maybe I'll feel generous and fuck you… Sounds good?”

“Yes, please…” you begged as he caressed your warm cheek.

“Then you gotta work hard for it.”

He drew back and sat on the coffee table in front of you, grabbing his still half full glass and taking a sip as he watched you put on a show for him.

Sunghoon unbuttoned his shirt stripping out of it and laid back a little on his left hand, bringing the other to his lap after taking another long sip from the glass, spreading his legs and lazily palming his still half hard dick which was currently laying on his lower abs.

He was enraptured by the way your fingers pushed his thick cum into your tight hole, a white ring forming around your digits as it seeped out the more you pushed, a few whines leaving your lips as you curled your fingers, looking for the spot that Sunghoon somehow could find so easily.

You were torn between focusing on your task, looking at his hand curling around his shaft as he slowly pumped it, making it fully hard again, or diving into his eyes, his dark, half lidded gaze hypnotizing you.

Then as you dived into his deep eyes you grazed the perfect spot inside of you, groaning as you aimed at it over and over, your eyes still connected, the intensity of his gaze combined to your fast strokes finally pushing you over the edge, clear, warm liquid squirting on your hand, your clenching pushing his cum out of your wet hole.

Sunghoon groaned at the sight, tugging a few more times at his cock as you whimpered and gasped to catch your breath.

He slowly stood up from the coffee table to approach you, bending down while holding himself up with a hand on the back of the sofa, next to your head.

He lifted your chin up with the other hand, softly pressing his lips on yours, slowly licking and sucking while you closed your eyes, whimpering and parting your lips to deepen the kiss, as Sunghoon tasted himself sucking on your lips and tongue.

He slowly detached from your lips, a thin string of saliva breaking in the process while you chased his warmth, eventually throwing your arms around his neck before he could fully straighten his back, his strong arms hugging you tight to prevent you from making both of you fall with the risk of him crushing you.

You caught him off guard, his heart suddenly swelling and beating faster at your display of affection. He found himself smiling into your neck, inhaling your scent as he fluttered his eyes closed.

Sunghoon allowed himself to relish this sweet moment before he regained some semblance of composure, holding your waist as he lowered you back on the sofa.

You sat there, looking up at him with wide, glossy eyes, biting your lower lip, your face hot.

Sunghoon gently caressed your cheek “You did a good job” he complimented you, “Do you think you deserve to be fucked?”

You seriously pondered his question, you still felt like you didn't deserve him, feeling like you failed him.

“No, I don't deserve it” you answered, hugging yourself sheepishly, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Why is that?” Sunghoon asked curiously, furrowing his thick brows, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I said I was yours, but in the end…” you trailed off, looking up at him “I failed you, I'm a disappointment…”

“Don't say that.” Sunghoon shook his head.

“Just promise you'll be mine and I'll be yours.”

He brushed his plush lips on yours “And I'll fuck you good every time you need it.”

You chuckled against his lips, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Sounds good…” you admitted.

“You have to promise” Sunghoon leaned his forehead on yours, restraining himself from kissing you again.

“I'm yours. I promise. A billion times.”

Sunghoon caught your lips once again in a heated kiss, cradling the back of your head against his palm as you did the same, diving your fingers into his soft hair and grazing his exposed shoulder with your other hand, your nails leaving red marks and imprints as he started to explore your body.

He started to grow impatient of getting inside you, your little moans going straight to his cock as he groped every inch of your body he laid his hands on.

As his urges got to him he stood up to remove his jeans and boxers, still hanging from his hips until that moment, but as he did so you followed him, eagerly throwing yourself into his chest, making him stumble backwards.

He chuckled, his eyes wide with surprise as he caught you and suddenly spun you around, making you take a few steps until your back pressed to the white marble kitchen island.

Sunghoon helped you lift up on the counter, the cold surface cooling down your hot core, making you shiver as you pulled on his neck to claim his plush, warm lips once again, tangling your fingers into his dark locks and your legs around his hips, pulling him in pressing your calves against his butt.

He braced himself with a hand on the counter next to you, his shaft stroking against your folds and clit as he let you pull him in between your legs, a little gasp escaping his throat while he started rolling his hips into yours, his lips traveling down your jaw and neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin.

The pressure of his stiff cock onto your clit as he humped into you made you mewl, trying to push yourself against him, urging him to fill you up.

Sunghoon took the hint, slapped his dick on your wet clit a couple times and stroked his tip down your slit, collecting your arousal and easily pushing it into your awaiting hole, as he bent one of your knees up to reach deeper, supporting you with his other hand on the small of your back.

He glanced down to where your bodies connected, hair falling on his furrowed eyebrows, taking deep breaths as he marveled at the way your glistening cunt stretched to take him in, clenching as you uselessly tried to fuck yourself on his dick.

“So pretty, I love it when you're full of my cock…” Sunghoon growled as he drew back a couple of inches and fucked deep into your tight hole, wetness starting to drip down your ass as he picked up his pace, short, deep thrusts hitting your sweet spot.

It felt like he was trying to split you open with the force with which he rutted into you and how deep he reached, feeling like he stretched your hole more and more, completely filling you up.

You braced yourself on his shoulders, clawing on them, leaving half moons on his skin as he moved his hands to your thighs, gripping at the flesh as he pulled you in with every hard stroke of his hips.

His raspy moans and your high pitched whimpers mixed with lewd, wet sounds filling the room.

Sunghoon's thrusts turned into long strokes, leaving only the tip inside before thrusting his whole length back in, aiming at your g-spot with incredible precision as your whimpers turned into loud whines and more arousal seeped out onto the counter.

“Bet he couldn't make you scream like this huh?” Sunghoon breathed into your ear with a particularly hard thrust.

You couldn't understand entirely what he was saying, your fogged mind only thinking about Sunghoon and the way he fucked your sensitive cunt, making you feel like you were burning up as he pushed you to the edge and over.

You shook your legs under his grasp as you came hard around his cock, your walls spasming uncontrollably as you let out a long wail.

Sunghoon kept fucking into you without mercy through your orgasm and beyond, overstimulating you to the point you started sobbing, the line between pleasure and pain getting blurry.

“Just like that, baby, come around my cock…”

His thrusts became more erratic as you kept trembling and whining, your arms that still clung to Sunghoon finally giving up as you let yourself fall on the kitchen surface, knocking down on the floor a few napkins in the process.

“Gonna come inside and fill you up.”

You just nodded in response, wanting nothing more than that.

With a few more powerful thrusts Sunghoon stilled for a brief moment as he shot his cum deep inside your cunt, then he shallowly rocked his hips into yours as he milked himself dry, shot after shot, his cum seeping out around his shaft with every thrust, his almost melodic moans filling your ears as you tried to catch your breath.

When he was done he let his cock slip out of your hole and collected the cum that managed to get out with his tip, only to push it back inside with a groan as you gasped both in surprise and sensitivity.

He repeated the action a few times until he was satisfied, keeping you plugged with his dick preventing his cum to seep out again.

You stayed like that for a little while as both of you caught your breaths, Sunghoon massaging your thighs as you sighed contentedly.

As the rush of pleasure and adrenaline died down you realized a few tears started escaping from the corner of your eyes, and as Sunghoon admired the result of his ravage, he noticed your watery eyes and small sobs.

He gently took your hands and lifted you up to embrace you delicately into his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

“Hey baby, what's wrong?”

You could hear worry in his voice.

You wrapped your legs tight around his hips as he was still inside you, struggling to find your voice, so after a few seconds of trying you stuttered out your response.

“I-I don't know… I think y-you just fucked me too good.”

You chuckled a little, trying to lighten the mood, reassuring him as he let out a sigh of relief.

“That, and I missed you…” you admitted timidly, nuzzling your face into the crook of his warm neck.

Sunghoon held you tightly, stroking your back.

“You have no idea how much I missed you… I started thinking it was all a wet dream, the only thing keeping me sane all this time were your panties.”

You giggled, remembering your panties were still hostage of the handsome man that also stole your heart.

“I want them back, by the way…” you warned him jokingly “What did you do to them?”

You lifted your curious gaze on Sunghoon, who teasingly half smirked at you, showing one of his canines and wiggling his eyebrows once.

“First, let's take a nice bath, then later I may even show you…”

You giggled at his captivating suggestion, marveling at the incredible sex drive Sunghoon was displaying.

He grazed his lips on yours, as he lowered his voice.

“We have all night… You're mine.”

[miffy-junot]

I really wanted to be kind, I really try to stay away from discourse, but my friend sent me a post containing opinions so rancid that I had to say something. I'm turning off reblogs and I will not name the user who made the post because I do not want any discourse, please be respectful of this.

Time to respond to the words of "Tumblr user X":

Firstly - I know not everybody here is Christian but to make a post being rude to dead people on All Soul's Day is immensely disrespectful, to say the least. Don't you have any graves to put flowers on, any people to remember?

1:

The majority of people interested in the Napoleonic Wars think Junot is a blundering buffoon. You really have to dig deep to find nuanced sources on him beyond the usual "mad general" stuff. There is a niche community of Gen Z Tumblr bloggers who like Junot, by no means the majority of the Napoleonic community - and since Tumblr is very easy to curate, it's on you if you are stuck in this niche bubble.

Let me tell you, Junot does not have a good reputation at all. You can let the topic go, you are fighting against an enemy that you believe numbers in the hundreds when in fact it is a small group of mentally ill teenagers (many of whom are lgbtq+, which is something interesting in itself).

2.

You are an adult, but how did you graduate high school with no skills of reading comprehension? Nobody has ever said that Junot's actions with Laure were "normal and okay". Once again, you are fighting an imaginary enemy.

Napoblr is essentially a war criminal fandom. That does not make it any more or less valid than other history communities, but it means that we have to take a slightly different approach to moralising historical figures. Almost every single person involved in the Napoleonic Wars would be a bad person if you took their actions out of the historical context. Most people relevant to the Napoleonic Wars were sexist, racist, imperialist pieces of shit who turned a blind eye to war crimes.

Because that makes up such a large percentage of these people, being overly judicious about their morality will leave you with the following group of "unproblematic people": a large gathering of peasants and children, none of whom we know the names of.

"Evil" is a very strong word to use, one which denies nuance, but let me speak in your language: all Napoleonic figures were somewhat "evil", if you are unwilling to deal with "evil" people then study art history, or any other subject that doesn't deal so much with moral complexity.

3.

In my opinion war crimes committed as part of your job are still war crimes????????? "Indirectly" or not, there is little difference between ordering an execution and murdering someone with your own bare hands, in both situation you take away a life from the world and there is blood on your hands. Some might even argue that having a callous approach to life and death is even worse!

And like I have said above: endless moralising is counter-productive. There are better ways to use your time, such as researching things that actually fulfil you.

4.

(just a tiny nitpick but please do not use that certain misogynistic term)

"Could have" and "should have" are words that cannot be used in the study of history. Speculation over endless possibilities of alternative realities is meaningless.

I thought we as a society had moved beyond calling addicts "evil", but apparently not! (and again, "evil" is a very charged term that leaves no room for nuance)

For the record, I support abstinence of all the things you mention. Irl I have a bit of a reputation for being a puritan. But even I will not blame somebody's entire morality on that, and call a man "evil" for being an addict?! Where is your sympathy?!

Self-destructive behaviour is a major symptom of both head injuries and personality disorders, but I doubt "Tumblr user X" has the thinking skills required to understand that properly.

And either way, even if it was all "his responsibility", so what? That's his personal life, why do you care? If you don't like it, go away.

5.

Again, I genuinely thought people knew how to be sympathetic towards addicts but apparently not.

The emphasis on "self-restraint" is insane, if you had any restraint you wouldn't be bitching on Tumblr. You are sounding more like a 17th century Puritan than me, the person who gets accused irl of acting like one.

People on Tumblr find Junot relatable. That is why he is cute, because he is relatable. Additionally, it is big part of Gen Z humour to call bad men "babygirl" and to combine cutesy aesthetics with dark stuff, hence the whole coquette/girlblogger aesthetic.

Like I said at the beginning of this post - most people do not like Junot. The people who do are mostly mentally ill young people who naturally gravitate towards this "crazy but make it cute" aesthetic tendency, and the "I can make him worse" sort of mentality.

"Violent tendencies" is a lot to extrapolate from a single incident, but that seems to be something you're fond of doing.

6.

You deliberately phrase this to imply sexual harassment. Here is what happened: he flirted with her and invited her to dinner, she had heard the rumours of his mad behaviour and ghosted him, he got very upset. Nothing physical ever happened.

Additionally, none of his mistresses ever mentioned any violent behaviour by him. In fact, in one anecdote related by Laure herself, Junot's Abyssinian mistress Xraxarane encouraged him to shoot an orange off the top of her head because she was so confident in his abilities with a pistol, and even though he knew he could do it, Junot didn't even try because he was too afraid of hurting her.

7.

Do your research before making snarky comments, I am begging you.

While it is true that men wrote more passionately to each other in those days, "I who love you with the affection of a savage for the sun, I who am entirely yours" is not something you would say in passing. I'm not going to argue that Junot and Napoleon did anything romantic together, but it's undeniable that Junot's feelings towards Napoleon surpass those of a completely platonic friendship.

There are many sources that attest to Junot's fanatical devotion being unusual, not just Laure. And it was not a single remark in Laure's memoirs, but many anecdotes. Junot had many close male friendships, but they all took on a very different character to his friendship with Napoleon - his letters to other friends have a casual, jovial tone; the intense and poetic language used in his letters to Napoleon instead mirror his letters to women.

Is it really so unfeasible to you that, out of the thousands of men in the Napoleonic army, one of them might have developed feelings for Napoleon beyond those of conventional masculine friendships? Statistically, it is impossible that every Napoleonic man was straight.

8.

Okay, I am going to be directly bitchy here.

Tumblr user X, YOU DIDN"T EVEN BOTHER TO READ THE JOURNAL INTIME BEFORE PUBLISHING A POST ABOUT THE INCIDENT.

When, in a discord server, I shared a small piece of the journal intime I had translated that was referring to Junot's affair with Caroline, YOU DOUBTED IT"S CREDIBILITY.

You claim to trust what women have to say, BUT YOU DON"T BELEIVE HORTENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS' CLAIMS THAT HER HUSBAND ABUSED HER. BE CONSISTENT.

And finally: THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO MENTION OF JUNOT TRYING TO RAPE LAURE AS YOU CLAIMED. NOWHERE IN HER ACCOUNT OF EVENTS DOES SHE ALLEGE RAPE. STOP MAKING THINGS UP, IT IS DISRESPECTFUL TO REAL RAPE VICTIMS.

You pretend to be diligent with your sources, but you are not, you only read things that support your pre-conceived opinion, you make posts based on false evidence. Shut the fuck up about topics you know nothing about.

9.

Gurl we are not bureaucrats, we do not care about military efficiency.

"glorified cavalry skirmish" - is a group of 500 men defeating a force of 3000 men not glorious to you? Those are odds of five to one.

If you don't care about military history, don't talk about military history and get out of the military history fandom.

10.

(fyi it's spelt crucify)

You are fighting imaginary enemies. Bessieres is adored, he is babygirled. Junot is loathed.

Nobody ever said Junot trying to kill Laure was cute. (I would also provide evidence that Junot never intended to kill her, but then I'll get accused of defending domestic violence)

Junot being babygirlified is not a recent thing. What about:

Rapp, who didn't think Junot was a great soldier but still defended him

Foy, who hated Junot but still wrote positive comments about him in his memoirs

Arthur Wellesley, who respected Junot as an enemy

James Forbes (and many others), who hated Napoleon but praised Junot for being kind to Englishmen in Paris

Antoine-Romain Hamelin, who didn't like most people he met but adored Junot for defending and rescuing him

André Delagrave, who wrote very sympathetically about Junot after serving him in the peninsular wars

Laure's letters

Junot's letters to Laure

Junot's letters to his daughters

+many, many more sources but those were the only ones I remembered off the top of my head.

And please don't disrespect Laure's own wishes and opinions. What about the highly affectionate language used to refer to Junot in her letters about her grief over his death? What about her letter to Berthier complaining about Junot being defamed?

Please be respectful here, I don't want any discourse. I shouldn't have to say this but please do not share this with "Tumblr user X", I don't want to have anything to do with that person ever again.

a little side tangent on the infamous incident between Junot and Laure:

When Junot went to break off his affair with Caroline Murat, he took two duelling pistols and khanjar (a Middle Eastern style of dagger) with him in case he was confronted by Murat and things got messy. This is very important - Junot had lethal weapons easily accessible to him and was willing to use them to kill his rival. So if he genuinely had every intention of murdering Laure, why didn't he shoot her? Why didn't he stab her with the fatal khanjar rather than a pair of scissors? Speculation on this point is useless, but it's vital to know that he could have easily killed her, but he didn't. I'm not defending his actions in any way, Junot certainly did something awful, but he did not intentionally plot to murder her.

[drdemonprince]

hi hi! I met an amicable gang of perverts and now they've invited me to a farm in the middle of nowhere to hang out. thing is I'm new in town, dark skinned and do not have a car or friends to pick me up. I get good vibes from them and we will meet on a public place at all, but there's a Get Out (movie) vibe feeding into my already massive anxiety about sex and STDs. what would you recommend to have a safe and sexy encounter?

First let me just say that I do not think your fears are unfounded, at all. Fictional depictions aside, the sole Black or brown person amidst a group of white folks out in a rural area are in a position of risk! There are some real horror stories out there. And even with the best of intentions, white people sometimes drag our Black & brown friends into situations we do not recognize to be unsafe. A local educational theater company here in Chicago had to stop running summer retreats at a campground in Wisconsin they had frequented for decades because of repeated complaints from Black staff who didn't feel safe out there. So like, first and foremost I want to affirm that you're not being crazy or unfair here.

I hope that people with more relevant personal experience will sound off with advice in the notes, but my suggestions are twofold: First, I think you should consider bringing someone with you as support. I know that you're new in town, but perhaps you have a friend from elsewhere who would be willing to visit and go with you? If not this time, perhaps you can make plans for them to chaperone a kinky rural outing with this group in the future?

If that isn't possible, I would recommend having trusted friends who are people of color plugged into your plans & location remotely at the very least. Share your location with them on your phone, give them the address and some contact information for other parties attending, and perhaps have them agree to call you and check in at least once every evening. Make sure your hosts are aware you're doing this, too.

The other piece of my advice would be to speak about these concerns with the white kinksters who have invited you. I don't necessarily trust they will be able to solve this issue in a way that will assuage all your anxiety, but I think at the very least how they respond to your concerns will be a needed vibe check.

Are they understanding? Offended? Shocked? Filled with white guilt? Do they offer some kind of accommodation to help make the situation safer to you? Do they make it all about themselves? Every white person exists somewhere on a spectrum of awareness & comfort in talking about this stuff, and it's good to know where this crew is at and where their abilities to be there for you are lacking -- not necessarily to prevent you from ever playing with them again, but just so you know what you can and can't trust them with, and where they still need to grow.

At the very least, asking will put them in the position of having to think about something that may not have passed through their minds, and perhaps some will rise to the occasion and help you feel understood. I certainly hope they do, anyway!

[stinkyallegations]

cw TKaTB spoilers, theory, mention of guillotine, amnesia memories spoilers

TKATB and its characters belong to @fantasia-kitt !!

TKATB IS RATED +18. MINORS DONT INTERACT

Was about to post a theory about how sol could have been reincarnated to meet pumpkin again in a different timeline bc they werent allowed to be together in their own timeline, the bruise on his neck being an indication of being guillotined AND him giving purple tullips (sign of royalty and elegance) to pumpkin on valentine's, feeling insecure about his lunch (saying it isnt "extravagant" enough for pumpkin) and somehow using pardon me instead of excuse me (he doesnt usually use this type of elegant language i think. could be just me) kinda seems like we were royalty before? I mean, crowe mentioning marie antoinette and the game giving us many options for the question seems sussy to me. Why does MY opinion on the queen matter this much to both crowe and sol since their love meters go crazy with the answers? speaking of historical figures, i cant be the only one thinking sol WAS the "executioner". maybe that could be it. he was "the executioner" and we were a part of the royalty: swimming in money, expensive alcohol and the sweat of the peasants; and sol being one of them. Maybe we didnt even know who he was but him being a delusional yandere, he thought we were inseperable lovers. maybe that was why he was drawing someone in peasant clothes. He was just drawing his past life, could be the day he first saw us or the day he lost us. anything to support my theory? what inspired the game, ofc :D i was stalking fantasia's socials when i saw the game was was inspired by 3 gamea, one being Amnesia Memories (IM A HUGE FAN OF THAT SHIT). if you didnt know, amnesia memories is about a girl waking up with lost memories, trying to remember things. but bc it is an otome, she has a partner in every world she wakes up in. so if she fails to recollect her memories, she ends up in a different universe with a different partner. the relevance between tkatb and amnesia? in amnesia the final LI can also switch between different universes. he loses the mc in a fire and cant live without her. So a god helps him go to a different universe to be with her again. But everytime he goes to a universe, the world either kills the mc or him somehow. Following with pumpkin being royalty and sol not being able to live with us, what if after our death; he went to a different universe where we are classmates (equal parties!!) and now the entire purpose of his existence being, well, being with us forever?

But yknow. I decided not to post it since pretty much everyone already thinks this way! its probably what fantasia WANTS us to think to bamboozle us in the end, right? :3

P.S. not to mention his hatred for the rich. the rich and their stupid rules were the things that stopped him from being with us! but what if hyugo ALSO has switched universes along with him for his own reasons? Could this be the deal between the two, and the reason why hyugo wont allow sol to just die like that?

[canonically-asexual]

Okay back me up here. At what point is it too late to cosplay a relatively obscure one off bit from a podcast? Because I really want to go to GalaxyCon dressed as a member of Travis's mango cult but my kid says that's "ten years too late" and "super embarrassing." They say the time to do that would have been a decade ago when it was at least somewhat relevant and that nobody will get it. To which I argue that it's statistically likely that at least one or two people out of the thousands of attendees will get it and appreciate it and that's good enough for me. (Honestly it's probably worth doing just to mildly embarrass my teenager but still.) I'm right, right? This is an excellent idea, right?

[arttsuka]

how do you get out of art block?

Just don't go in art block.

But ok jokes aside. It can be hard, lack of motivation, sometimes you feel like your hand isn't cooperating with your brain.

Personally I haven't experienced an extensive art block yet, mainly 'off' days. Usually it's 'fixed' when I take it easy and do something else instead of drawing. Maybe watch a movie or a show, play a game. Anything that might spark inspiration. Looking at other fanart somehow makes it worse because 'I should be drawing now' but probably thats just me. I always try to sketch the things I'd like to draw even if they're not fully fleshed out ideas, it makes me feel productive.

At the end of the day, art is supposed to be fun, not stressful. Take some time to relax, maybe change scenery, go on a walk. Just, don't wear yourself out.