#this is so random i hate being a modern woman

[ominouspositivity-or-else]

so much of a 21st century woman that i legitimately had to have a guy in my YA lit class explain to me how men's emotions work because i've only ever heard about it from idiotic women speaking for men or super macho guys who think any form of emotion is utter weakness for my entire life

[itsmemuffy]

Random Fluffy/Cute Logan Howlett HC's

Original Trilogy!Logan x fem reader, 110% fluff

a/n: I started writing for Logan a couple of months back. Decided it was time to be brave and actually post something. My drafts are a mess of half written drabbles and random ideas, so I am testing the waters with some HC's while I try to figure out how I want to write him.

➼ We all know Logan has almost no sense of pop culture. Kids at the mansion will tease him when a reference goes completely over his head. He hates the feeling of not being in control of a social interaction. One time, he catches you giggling off to the side when he gets called an old man for the third time that day; one of the few instances you've ever seen him blush. His consumption of modern media has mainly consisted of dad rock that plays in dingy bars and the occasional movie he was forced to sit through.

➼ Speaking of... he loves movie nights. At first it was just a guaranteed way to get you alone once a week, adoring how you get all exited over whatever film you had picked out. It's not like Logan had planned to pay attention to what was happening on screen, anyway. More often than not, however, he finds himself getting waaay too into the movie than he originally intended. He's a smartass that likes to call out the inconsistencies and plot holes. When a movie has an ending he isn't satisfied with, it will make him genuinely angry.

➼ Second only to movie nights, Logan's favorite moments spent with you is when you go on walks together. Both of your free time is rare and precious. The second he has the opportunity, he will take you by the hand and lead you off somewhere, anywhere. Wandering around, arms linked, sometimes in silence, sometimes while letting eachother ramble on and on about everything and nothing. He cherishes the simplicity of being hand in hand with the woman he loves, enjoying nature with her. Every time without fail, Logan will ask if you are cold, wrapping you in his jacket. It drives him wild the way your scent will linger on his clothing when you give it back.

➼ So called "actual" dates where he takes you out are far and few between. Sometimes it eats at Logan that he can't treat you the way he feels you deserve. A hectic and unpredictable schedule is just one of the things that come with being part of the X-Men and it's hard for him to plan things ahead of time. Even if it's just a late night drive to a 24-hour diner after he gets back from a mission, he will make time for you any way he can.

➼ Logan needs to initiate some form of touch when you're in his presence. Even if it's just a hand resting gently on the back of your shoulder, he will make sure you are linked to him any way possible. It brings him great comfort just to be near you. Everyone knows that as soon as he walks into a room you're in, he will be glued to your hip. At the end of the day, you're Logan's peace and he wouldn't pass up a single second to be next to you.

[snazzynacho]

— Emperor of Time

Chapter 1/?: Vivamus, Moriendum Est / Let Us Live, For We Must Die

Emperor Geta x female oc

Read on ao3. Masterlist. Words: 1.7k. Part 2

Summary: Emperor Publius Septimius Geta somehow time travels to the future. With no way home and no idea how he ended up in a random woman’s living room in—he later works out to be—modern-day Britannia, he is forced to adjust as well as he can. And, maybe the woman talking a funny-sounding-gibberish-language to him, might not be all that bad…The gods have plucked him from his wealthy imperial-born path and plunged him deep into the unknown—a time of the modern world. Will he accept this fate or brutally shove it back into their mocking faces?

Tags/warnings: Gladiator 2 spoilers. She/her pronouns used, time travel, red string of fate, fluff, angst, humour, eventual romance, possible smut, female reader, atheist reader, mental breakdown, suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced past child abuse/abusive father, Christianity/Catholicism hate, British English lessons, Latin lessons, references to ancient Roman religion, mythology and lore. (I am no expert so sorry for Latin language/historical inaccuracies.) No beta we die like Geta.

Geta has always wondered what the gods have planned for him.

Of course, he knows his birth rite is being emperor, albeit grudgingly a Co-emperor, with his mad brother. Yet, he still enjoys the power and wealth that comes with being emperor.

Still, his mind also wonders to the inevitable…his death. How have the gods panned out his life? When will he die? Much to his ego, he always assumed it would be when he is old and has lived a full life as a rich emperor, with a grandiose funeral and many people mourning—the entirety of Rome, he hopes.

But, he never foresees this…

One moment Geta is in the palace and the next he is…nowhere?

His vision goes black. It feels like he’s floating in an endless abyss. It reminds him of when he and his brother Caracalla would go swimming as children. He always loved how freeing it felt to lie flat on his back, letting the ocean guide him away from any troubles that were tormenting him.

But in this case, in this pitch black atmosphere, he feels slightly uneasy. He cannot see a thing. He only senses his heart thumping in his chest and hears his breathing rapidly increase by the second.

His mind takes a moment to comprehend what is happening and soon is full with endless questions.

What is this place?

This is no���dare he says it—Elysium.

Unless, there is no such thing as—

He stops himself. He is in no mood to denounce his religion now.

Geta inhales a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He tries to take a step forward, but he finds his leg is stiff. He slowly realises his limbs feel as though they weigh a ton.

He attempts to move again. He uses all his strength, groaning at the strain on his body to move. Slowly, he starts to move, gliding through the unknown.

A flicker of light emits in the distance. An exit perhaps? His legs pick up speed, running to, what he hopes to be, safety. As Geta reaches closer to the light, he makes out a field of wheat under a blanket of blue sky—the Elysian fields.

He cannot help but grin. A feeling of warmth and protection grows in his body at the familiarity of it. He will be safe there, even if it means he has died.

His outstretched hand reaches the doorway to Elysium, but just as his finger grazes it, it vanishes before his eyes, plunging him into darkness again. He gasps. Dread fills his body.

No, no, no, no.

Is this all a trick?

Geta grows cold again. His head lowers in shame and he feels tears prick his eyes.

Before he can let them fall, he sees two glowing hands reach out and hold his. He looks up, blinking away the tears so he can clear his blurry vision. Is he seeing what he thinks he is seeing?

The glowing hands belong to a woman, her hair flows all around her as if she is standing in a gentle summer breeze. He cannot make out what colour her hair or robe is, or what shade her skin is.

She glows a white almost blinding light, with a thin orange fire outlining her figure—similar to a flickering candlelight.

Her face is still blurry, with no features to be seen. He blinks again, thinking it is a few tears being stubborn. But he still cannot make out her face.

He does not feel scared though. This great presence is all too calming. He wants to speak, to ask who she is, but he opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He does not know what to say exactly.

“You are not ready yet, my child,” her soothing voice lands in his mind.

His mouth is dry. He goes to speak again, but the same problem arises. She lets go of his hands, cradling his cheeks. Her hands are warm and comforting. He closes his eyes, unable to resist leaning into her touch further. Finally, she places a kiss on his forehead.

Abruptly, she pushes him away gently.

Geta’s body glides backwards fast. Her shining figure becomes smaller and smaller, shrinking in the distance. With his limited information about what is happening, he can only assume this means he's going back home, to the palace in Rome. How will he explain this to anyone?

Suddenly, the atmosphere around him rips. It tears like a piece of paper, revealing a blinding white vision, his eyes burning. His arms wrap around his head, covering his eyes. His eardrums pound as the environment shakes as though he is in the middle of an earthquake and rumbles with incredible volume.

He cowers and moves his arms, trying to also cover his ears from the noise, but it's no use. The deafening sound, unsteady oscillation, rumbling, and, blinding light—it's excruciating.

Geta screams in pain and fear, praying that it ends. The blinding white grows and grows until it swallows him up.

And then, it all goes still…silent.

He opens his eyes, blinking. His ears ring loudly, almost as deafening as the rumbling. He's lying flat on the ground, but not outside. He's inside. But it does not look like a building he recognises.

He rises and is immediately hit with a pounding in his head. His legs wobble but he ably regains stability. He looks around the room. The interior design, from the furniture down to the walls and layout, is completely alien to him.

By the gods, where is he?

He stands there for gods knows how long, contemplating his life and purpose when a presence enters the room, rubbing his temple with a trembling hand.

He turns, meeting his gaze with a young woman. However, she is dressed in the most bizarre clothing—thick blue fabric wrapped tightly around her legs and held together around her waist with a shiny metallic object which looks a bit like a silver coin to him. On her top half, she wears a cloth, loose and light pink with short sleeves, and stitching around the hem. And the most bizarre of all, a contraption that looks like two big round pieces of glass in front of her eyes, that rests on her nose and has two arms reaching behind her ears. It looks like a second pair of eyes, like bug eyes.

They stare at each other in shock for a few long seconds until the woman lets out an ear-piercingly loud scream.

Geta covers his ears quickly, clutching the sides of his head. He glowers from the ringing in his ears and the pounding head he already feels added onto this newfound pain from her screaming.

The scream finally stops but she still looks petrified, as does Geta, probably. He watches her eyes dart frantically around the room, landing on the broom resting against the wall. Her hands reach for it, dropping a small rectangular device from her hand in the action. Geta wants to inspect whatever contraption it is—if he were in a different circumstance, that is. Right now, he believes the best thing to do is to stand completely and utterly still, like a statue. He's afraid of this new environment.

Why have I been sent here?

She jabs the broom close to his torso, like she is wielding a spear. He notes that she is clearly not a gladiatrix, since her angle is off. And her feeble arms are too weak for her to even be considered one. He concludes that she is a very poor fighter.

Still, he looks utterly shocked at her blasphemy. Does she know he is an emperor? Purposefully trying to inflict harm or kill a god-emperor calls for the punishment of death!

She shoos him, continuing to jab the broom in his general direction, but never actually hitting him.

Geta’s eyes snap down at the broom which, from her jabbing motion, has blown dust into his face and, most importantly, his luxurious robes. He coughs, flapping his hands to rid the dust cloud from his face. Once cleared, he tries to brush the dust particles from his robes. A scowl forms on his face. He shouts at her in Latin, his language, but she has no idea what he is saying.

She then yells at him in her language, her frustration evidently reaching the surface. To which he grimaces at her foreign words. A foreigner committing sacrilege against her emperor? How unsurprising, he thinks to himself.

She seems to growl out of exasperation, letting go of the broom. The wooden handle clackers against the hardwood floor.

Suddenly, a loud unrecognisable noise from outside resounds around the room, having flown in through the open window.

His head snaps to the direction of the noise, alert.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her outstretched arm, seemingly trying to stop him, but he's already running to the window. He leans over, holding onto the window sill for leverage, gazing out into the surrounding view—detailing roads, buildings, and other establishments. It is nothing like he has ever seen before.

The noise sounds like it should belong to some sort of animal or beast, but he sees nothing of the sort—only big chariots, all of different colours, which emit smoke and have four black wheels in each corner, driving on the road.

Throughout his life in Rome as Emperor, he held the privilege of being endowed with hundreds of gifts from all over and had been granted the opportunity to travel all around the world, to places where they had occupied new territories—and not once has he ever seen buildings or technology like this. It is mind-boggling.

Where is this place?

Behind him, she grabs her device from the floor where she dropped it. He feels her footsteps thud on the floor, stopping beside him. She stares at him, desperately wanting to know what is going on inside of his head, as does he.

It all becomes too much for Geta. He slowly steps back away from the window, yet his eyes forbid him to look away from the unfamiliar sight outside. His breath quickens as his boundless thoughts race through his dizzying head. He feels as though he is on a different planet, if that is possible. Maybe he can find a soothsayer to help him…anyone…anything.

His head feels weightless, the blood rushing far too rapidly. His stomach churns. His legs grow weak, his body is suddenly too heavy to uphold. His hearing starts to go, unhearing the noise of the funny chariots. His vision goes speckled, black spots appearing, before they swallow him whole. He does not remember falling backwards.

YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS.

A/N: ummm hey yes I am publishing another Gladiator 2 fanfic when I haven't even finished the first one (yet) <3 It’s because I am way too impatient and need to share this with you all NOW. I hope you liked it! Comments are always lovely to read and reblogs are appreciated! :)

Tag list for this fanfic: (comment if you want to be added)

[catchingdaydreams]

Modern day Mithrun Headcannons

Just some random ideas and perspective on how a modern au Mithrun would act/live and what not .

He would have his apartment spotless and minimalist as hell. Like everyone is to accommodate for one person. He doesn't really invite friends over but when he does their often confused about how theres just one of everything. A single chair, only one bowel and glass that he just uses ect, ect.

OR his room is just full of piles of trash bags and instant noodle cups because he can't be bothered to clean that shit up. The room is also bathed in darkness, curtains drawn down with the only source of light is through his TV and microwave clock.

He hates summer and winter. He gets sunburnt too often cause he can't be bothered to put sunscreen on. He doesn't like to cover up as an alternative as he justs overheats himself. In the Winter he would rather spend it hibernating if he could. The alternative is just becoming a blanket burrito and wait it out. He wears a lot of warm clothing too, often comedically too much, looking like a penguin on the way he waddles. This man will always get sick in winter.

His favorite season is autumn as it's the only season where it's not going to inconvenience him by either giving him sunburn, colds or hay fever.

He use to job hops quite a lot. Mostly working as chef at a local noodle shop that's near his apartment. Nothing wrong with the way he cooked, he just lacked most social skills which his blank tone and expressions upset both customers and other staff. He was a little stubborn but is a stickler for workplace hygiene and safety and would definitely tell people off for not doing something up to code. Even to the boss (instant way for getting fired).

Now he works at a high-end/fancy restaurant (probs has a michelin star ) wheres his nack for nick picking made him well respected for being precise.

Though he will not tell anyone where he works at. The Canaries will try to pester him (some *coff* *coff* Fleki and Lycion *coff* have tired staking but failed). He likes his privacy.

On days off he likes to be active and go hiking in the woods. He sometimes volunteers with the local nature parks for general upkeep and search and rescue.

But he doesn't do this alone. He WILL get lost. Kabur is a good hiking partner and also does volunteering. The Canaries are generally the go to personnel with supervising him. But he's generally in charge of operations which they bestowed him the nickname 'caption' to him.

He WILL get mistaken as an old man (yes he is technically old but I'm mean on deaths bed old). His white hair causes kids to point and look. He gets annoyed when a teenager asks him if he needs help crossing the street (especially if he's waddling like a penguin in Winter clothing). One time he was so annoyed by a kid calling him a grandma that he took out his prosthetic eye to make the kid cry.

Probs gets mistaken as a woman at times as well. He does have a feminine look about him. I imagine him coming home from a late shift and he gets catcalled by some bums. All he has to do is reply back in his low manly voice and they shut up . The times that they don't, Mithrun doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. He will throw the bums beaten and bruised bodies in the dumpster, it's where they belong of course.

Mithrun isn't a social butterfly. He likes to go to bed early then party and have a few drinks with his friends. Even when he does gets invited he'll hardly drink anything. He use to alot in his youth but his body isn't the same anymore and would just black out after a few drinks.

[leafington]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙞 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩. - kento n.

content warning !! - enemies to lovers w nanami (i caved), blackfem!reader, ngh modelceo!reader, ceo!nanami, me putting my business and entrepreneurship knowledge to use, light intoxication, suggestiveness at the end

a/n - IM BACK YALL WOOOOOO, sorry for making u wait @jellicatty 🙁

For years, Nanami has held himself to competition with you and your company. If he had a tier-list of all the people he hated, you were a close second to Gojo. To say he hated your guts was an understatement, some thought he just had some sort of lingering grudge, others assumed you two just got off the wrong foot but they couldn't be far from wrong. That man practically wanted you dead, and that's a hard call to make from someone who was raised well.

His mother was nothing short of a good woman, she taught his son to do great things—respect elders, women, and children alike, offer up his seat to those who needed it more than him, never pray upon someone's downfall no matter how hard they made his life. Each and every time he comes across your presence, he closes his eyes and mentally apologizes to his mother.

Your being insinuates such hatred within him. The way you arose to popularity out of nowhere due to what? Daddy's money? Your looks that earned you sexiest woman alive four years in a row? He wasn't accepting that 'model starting their own company' bullshit, not that he didn't believe one couldn't, just not you.

He recalls the very first moment he met you, three years ago when you made his life hell. 'Japan's Top Model, L/n Y/n, announces her official clothing line.' Who knew a simple headline could turn his future upside down? At the time, he'd only heard of you once or twice over a news article or a random scandal that just so happened to sneak into his algorithm. But this was different, it effected him in every way possible.

Suddenly, he has competition. 'LVS' stocks had reached a pinnacle point within just a few weeks of launching, he'd never seen those abbreviations before, the next, his own business was constantly being compared to by this new threatening company. All things after that basically consisted of Nanami fighting for his top spot. You can't even describe how upset he was when he first met you. A beautiful woman, buttering up the chairman into letting you attend the business meetings that he [Nanami] went to, pretty tits bouncing when introducing yourself to the other members of the council, and that gleam of something in your eye when you finally met with Nanami.

"So you're the one hogging No. 1?"

He doesn't give a damn how many of the other pervs fell for your charm, to him, you were the devil in disguise.

Nanami Kento despised you with every fibre of his person. Even at this formal event.

"Sexiest woman alive"? Damn right you were. He can see how easily the others fell for you, if he didn't have his head screwed on tight, he would've been the next one to take you in the office.

That black sleeveless maxi dress kept him on his toes the entire night, curves and assets prominent. The way you held your glass of sparkling rosé, chatting it up with whoever that unfortunate soul was that thought they would get you in their bed after this was all over. Nanami held his own drink, a good amount of scotch that'd get him through the remainder of the event without bashing someone's head in. He's trying to listen to his colleague brag about his latest product of his work that's been selling well, but you being in his line of sight smiling and giggling seemed way more appealing.

In no way is Nanami a man who occupied himself with women, until he found a good place to settle and retire, a relationship didn't have any room in his life. To the best of his abilities, he ignores the now reciprocated exchange of stares, only sipping from the modern glass whenever he felt he needed the extra loosening.

And loose he was.

You look good. Too good. He turned his head to avoid indulging, not with the woman who's downfall he's prayed upon. Though it's far too late because that scotch is getting it's moneys worth having already downed three glasses and bringing him closer and closer to the woman he claimed he loathed.

His compliments were unlike anything he's ever thought of you. "You look stunning tonight." "Your stylist did an amazing job." "The pictures do you no justice." Drunk words are sober thoughts as they say. His eyes were telling more than his words, he wanted you bad.

Compared to any other elderly male he knew what to say to have you feel won over, even if you were well aware of his hatred towards you. So.. though it was just for a night, you returned the favor. Addressing his compliments with your own, insisting that the media makes such false claims about his person, feeling him up, and eventually dragging him to the bathroom to show him exactly how you shot to the top.

"You minx." He hisses as your kisses trail lower from his jaw. "Oh? What happened to all that talk you were doing?" You effortlessly tug his tie off, allowing it to hang from his neck. "Do you do this with every man you want to surpass?" He grits, fighting his natural urges to give in. "Very few, only the ones that act uppity and look good in a suit."

"Fuck... I hate you so much."

©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)

[bullywugprincess]

This is completely random and unrelated to anything but the other day I was watching “isn’t it romantic”, an episode from Season 2 of golden girls where they have a lesbian character, and while I think the fact it was a single episode with a token lesbian to push the message that being a queer woman isn’t a bad thing is something that not as relevant to contemporary audiences, it amazes me that it’s honestly aged better than your average 2000s/early 2010 lesbian rep.

The most hated thing about 2000s lesbian rep is the “predatory lesbian” troupe. Think Cynthia-Rose Adams from pitch perfect chasing the other girl around while everyone is freaking out while she runs from her and blows her rape whistle, or Nicky Nicole’s and Big Boo from Orange is the New Black (I am saying this as an OITNB fan who loves these characters). Jean is presented as a sweet, harmless, caring woman who actively avoids doing anything that would make the other women uncomfortable, for example when Dorothy says they’ll share a bed because there isn’t enough rooms she instantly offers to sleep on the sofa, and when she ends up having to share a room with rose she admits her feelings for her before getting into the bed with her, and upon not getting a response decides to sleep on roses chaise lounge instead. She also decides to leave once she realises she’s developed feelings for rose, but when they discuss it rose isn’t afraid of her in the slightest and says she is fine with her staying unless Jean feels friendship alone with rose isn’t something she can live with, to which Jean responds that she would happily just be friends with rose.

There is also zero fetishisation from men, in fact I don’t think we see a man the whole episode. Not saying any lesbian movies should write off men, but it’s so refreshing to see lesbian portrayal completely removed from the male gaze.

A small thing but something else I liked- Dorothy admits she didn’t know if Rose would know what a lesbian was and she simply responded “well I could have looked it up!”, and when her and Jean discuss it she admits she doesn’t fully understand jeans feelings, but she recognises that she feels that way and that’s ok- PEOPLE WHO DONT KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT PRONOUNS AND DIFFERENT OR NEWER LABELS TAKE NOTES! You can simply google what something means and respect it without needing to know the nuisances!

I just think it’s wonderful how a show from 1986 made by and catered towards more middle aged/older watchers can beat modern shows with a younger target audience, and it really goes to show that having an open mind and simply accepting others means a lot more than being overly educated on such matters. Love golden girls

[poisonf0rest]

Poison I keep seeing you mention a modern!Raf fic!!

Can we get some hints at the vibes we going for?👀

Oh of course, love! It's a reference to the headcanons I wrote a while back here, but in summary what I'll be expanding on are these:

For the "normal" AU I'm calling modern!AU, it'll be taking place in our current society instead of Linkon's futuristic one. Also there are no myths-- I'm thinking of Rafayel still having a tragic backstory since our histories make us who we are, but no Lemuria or fated lovers.

I definitely headcanon Rafayel being younger than the MC. She'd be 27, a full-time detective and he'd be 24 but a famous art protegee since 15 and has a horrible reputation for being impossible to work with, struck-up, arrogant, and a fuckboy.

But Rafayel insists he's the older one to everyone you meet. It drives you insane.

He canonically has a Mercedes Benz AMG Gran Turismo and Ferrari 250GT, but I think he has at least three sports cars.

It's not a symbol of wealth to him because, honestly, Rafayel simply doesn't check the price tags on anything-- if it's a beautifully designed car, suit, jewelry, or painting, he buys it without another thought.

And vice versa. If an expensive label offers to sponsor him but he hates the designer he'll refuse no matter what the pay is.

You meet modern!AU Raf after hooking up in a club or bar. You disappear the morning after mind-blowing sex that was just supposed to be stress relief, and Rafayel can't get you out of his head-- but he doesn't even know your name.

He makes paintings of hidden freckles on your body, of your blurry figure dancing in the dress you wore that night, of colors and swirls that remind him of your touch. The media goes crazy over this mystery woman who's taken over the famous artist's heart.

He has no reservations about calling you his muse and within hours the press is abuzz with speculation on this mystery person who has captured the artist's heart.

"Love? Yes, I'm in love with her."

You, on the other hand, are mortified. You try to forget about him and move on but cue a series of further coincidences and shenanigans that tie you and Rafayel closer and closer together.

More nasty stuff normal!AU would also consist of:

"stop following me" "but you're obsessed with me too" "i hate you" "fuuuck, say it again" rough, angry, denial sex either in your workplaces where rafayel definitely didn't stalk to find you and/or at the bathroom of his art exhibit

Paparazzi following the two of you and swarming the outside of rafayel's ferrari thank god for tinted windows as you see the flashes go off while riding raf in the driver's seat

After you lose a bet he'd definitely make you wear a vibrator and a lingerie set he picked out under a gorgeous dress obviously of his choosing too during his exhibit. The catch? Raf is sooo much more turned on at this then you are, so while you're subtly losing your mind at the low setting of the vibrator rafayel has a very, very obvious erection watching you in the middle of his event.

and when you scold him for making it so obvious? straight to a storage closet or bathroom.

One of your hookups would definitely be in a fancy ass hotel and you'd be getting busy in the morning only to be walked in on by room service delivering breakfast

There's a "breakfast in bed" joke somewhere there...

Raf also has a lot of piercings in this AU, at least nine on the ears and a tongue piercing too. I'm debating an eyebrow/lip? He seems like he would on a whim/if he got drunk enough while out on vacation somewhere completely random. He'd complain about the pain the whole time but in reality he just can't wait to tease you with it.

[katbrando]

▹NSFW (minors dni) • 5.1k • diego brando x afab!reader ▹content: modern au, diego is a cheater AND a bottom, pegging, hate sex, slapping, choking, rimming, face-sitting, degradation, spit (lots of spit) ▹synopsis: diego and you have a pretty toxic relationship to begin with, but after you find evidence of him cheating on you while out of town, you decide to put him in his place. [ read on ao3 instead ]

The silence that followed your boyfriend’s phone being gently placed atop the kitchen counter was thick, maybe rivaled only by the sheer bulk of rage that was currently settled on your tense shoulders. Atmospheres like this certainly weren’t uncommon between the two of you, usually spiraling into screaming matches that ended in unresolved tension eventually fizzling out as if nothing had gone wrong at all. In most of these circumstances, it was both of you at fault; differences in opinion and outlook tended to blow up into something far more dramatic than necessary, but that was inevitable when you were dating Diego Brando.

“Darling –” he’d started, of course, by trying to lighten the situation with a term of endearment associated with the numerous romantic dinners he’d taken you on as apology for previous grievances, but you’d stopped him dead in his tracks with a single finger pointed just inches away from his broad nose.

“Do not.” The same finger quickly moved to press directly in the center of his phone, reawakening the screen to show the current source of this particular confrontation, a message from a random number with obvious sexual intention. “Who the hell is texting you right now?”

This, of course, was a rhetorical question. The answer to that question was made clear to you just last night when the exact woman in question had contacted you personally. “Your man is cheating on you.” A single Instagram DM that would’ve otherwise seemed ludacris, but paired with a damning photo of Diego himself laying amongst someone else’s bed sheets. It was hard to know where to place your anger, but after realizing the message wasn’t meant to taunt, moreso to inform and warn, you’d understood what needed to be done.

“I don’t know, love,” Diego lied through his teeth, his sharp canines poking out as he plastered a smile on his face, “probably a wrong number or something.”

In most cases this would be an understandable possibility. Not only was Diego an exceptionally beautiful man, but his career as a jockey made him well-known within a specific sphere of people. And these people were committed, often cult-like in their actions. Learning to deal with jealousy and uncertainty was part of the package when you signed up to date such an established athlete. Was it worth it? That, you’d been struggling to answer as of late.

Your relationship with Diego certainly wasn’t perfect, it hadn’t been for a while, but the idea of him cheating still seemed inconceivable. As a partner, Diego was ruthless in his loyalty, though it was not lost on you that he’d had a past of sleeping around and taking advantage of his good looks. You’d thought, maybe, that was all in the past, but lately with his uptick in popularity it seemed he was spiraling back into old habits, feeling a bit too untouchable.

“I’m not a dumbass, Diego,” you countered, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as if to try and quell the anger, “so you can stop treating me like one and tell me why the hell some random person is sexting you.”

“I can’t control the fact that people want to share their fantasies with me.” Diego folds his arms across his chest and shrugs, letting out a chuckle of his own that only furthers a boiling point for you. “If my number was leaked again, I’ll get a new one, it’s no problem.”

“You and I both know that’s not what happened here. Get real, or I’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

Something in your tone must have struck something in him, because at those stern words Diego seemed to visibly stiffen. Was that fear in his eyes?

The sound of your own breath became unbearably loud as you watched your boyfriend try to find words, his pillowy lips parted but offering up nothing. Absolutely pathetic.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Even if Diego was a good liar, you’d be able to see through him easier than most others could. And the way his eyes darted to the side told you everything you needed to know before he could even say anything.

“Well, clearly you’ve already made up your mind as far as the answer to that question, so why even bother answering?” He grumbled, his little pout making it hard for you to decide if you’d rather slap him across the face or kiss him so hard you both forget this entire situation.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” You took his phone in your hand and tried to decide what to do with it, finally resolving to chuck it at the floor, letting it land with a thump on his foot. “I have proof either way so you’d be an idiot to try and argue with me.”

Diego’s stare immediately dropped to the floor, his fingers drumming nervously across the surface of his bicep as he looked at his phone. It beeped again, another notification flashing across the screen, but he didn’t pick it up.

“So is that it, then?” He finally murmured after several seconds of silence. “Are you going to scold me? Kick me out?”

“Are you not going to apologize?” You scoffed, taking a couple steps closer to him, tone threatening. “You’re a real piece of work, Brando.”

“Love, I wouldn’t expect you to understand the difficulty that comes with being in the spotlight.” Diego started, and you knew exactly what frustrating turn he was about to take. “If I turned away every single person who approached me, anyone who wanted a piece of me, the media would make me out to be a bloody prick. Do you know how hard it is to maintain a balance of charm and disinterest? When your career depends on it?”

“You are a bloody prick!” You shouted in response, jamming a finger against his chest before shoving at his shoulder. “Since when does your career require you to sleep with random people when you’re in a relationship?”

Visibly trying to recover from the sudden action of being shoved, Diego met your sharp stare again with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. His nostrils flared, and it wasn’t immediately clear if that was a sign of his own rage bubbling up or something more carnal. Either way, he stayed silent, his demeanor practically begging for more.

“Tell me you aren’t happy, then, go ahead.” Your provocation continued as you got closer to him, shoving him with both hands this time. He briefly stumbled back but remained stock still. “I can dump you right now and you can go get your dick wet with whoever the fuck you want, your choice.”

“I don’t want that,” Diego grumbled, narrowing his eyes, “I made a mistake.”

“A mistake!” You echo, laughing again at the absurdity of Diego’s entire reasoning. “Do you understand how pathetic you look right now?”

“Throw me out, then, go ahead. Clearly you’re not willing to have a discussion about this.”

“There’s no discussion to be had, Diego. And throwing you out would be way too easy.” You pause to take a deep breath, your voice lowering significantly. “Maybe I should just beat the shit out of you and teach you a goddamn lesson.”

Diego gulps, his breath noticeably hitches. “Why don’t you, then?”

“Because I know you, I know that’s what you want me to do.”

Diego’s lips quirk up into a smirk, just barely, and that action alone makes your mind up even before he replies in a smarmy voice.

“Then aren’t we both on the same page?”

A slap reverberates through the quaint space of your shared apartment, Diego’s hand immediately coming up to rest against the reddening skin of his cheek. You take in the sight of his eyes blown wide and his mouth parted in shock for mere seconds before you close the distance with a bruising kiss. Nothing about it is gentle, your teeth dig into his lip as a frustrated growl spills into his mouth, and though Diego does his best to assert dominance with his tongue you put up a good fight as both your hands shove at his shoulders again.

With his back now pressed tightly against the wall, Diego attempts to part for breath but he loses the battle as you firmly grip his chin in your hand, forcing him to keep kissing you. You only allow him the luxury of breath once your other hand is grasping a fistfull of his hair, effectively holding his head in place even as you pull away.

“I can’t stand you,” you mutter, squeezing his chin tighter, digging your nails into his skin, “maybe the media should know that you’re a cheating scumbag.”

The fear that flashes in Diego’s eyes at that threat further fuels your rage; of course he’s more concerned about his reputation than the state of your relationship.

“That –” he starts, whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as you spit directly into his mouth.

“Stop talking, for the love of god.” Your demand is punctuated with another tug on his hair as he clearly savors the feeling and taste of your own saliva settling on his tongue.

To the public, Diego Brando is a shining example of pride and dominance in the world of horse racing, even his small stature is something he’s looked up to for. Something you’ve always taken satisfaction in has been your ability to render that side of Diego completely powerless, knowing the exact words and actions that have the capacity to bring him to his knees with his eyes glazed over in desperation. That is the Diego you fell in love with, and he’s the one who’s currently staring at you as if you’re the end-all and be-all.

Cheater or not, you know in your heart that he’ll always come running back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to make him pay for this mistake. By the time you’re done with him, your name will be the only thing he remembers how to say.

In a series of exasperated movements, Diego allows you to clap a hand across the nape of his neck and shove him towards your bedroom, his hands awkwardly hovering in the air as if even accidentally touching you will earn him capital punishment. “Pants off.” You demand, admittedly a little charmed by the way he stumbles backwards against the bed and begins fumbling with his belt.

As you dig through the nightstand, you can feel Diego’s eyes boring into you. By the time his pants and underwear are thoughtlessly discarded onto the floor you’ve located the tools for further punishment, tossing them onto the mattress just inches away from where Diego is sitting. It’s cute the way he glances over at his favorite dildo before staring at you again with bated breath, but he’ll have to be patient. And patience is something he’s not very good at.

“Do not touch yourself.” You move to stand in front of him, your legs on either side of his as they dangle off the side of the bed. When his hand hovers over your waist you give it a firm swat. “Or me. Understood?”

“Yes, love,” he mutters, breathy and desperate, both his hands falling into his lap.

You refrain from demanding he not use pet names, seeing as the way they roll off his tongue just makes him sound even more pathetic. Anger rushes through you again as you imagine whether or not he used the same words when he cheated. Inevitably, he must have, it’s part of his undeniable charm. You don’t voice this frustration, but you grip his chin in your hand again and give his head a firm shake.

“I won’t hesitate to toss you out the door, butt ass naked, if you don’t obey what I ask of you tonight.” A pause. “Understood?”

“Yes, love,” he repeats in the exact same lust-soaked cadence, eyes already glazed over with desire.

Your eyes search his face for a moment, finding no hint of foul play nor anything but obedience. Only then do you give a single nod and step backwards to continue your demands. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Diego obeys without hesitation, positioning himself so that his ass is fully presented to you and his face is resting against the sheets, turned just enough to continue watching your every move. Even just the sight of you looking at him in such a lewd position is enough to make him groan and shimmy his hips, though just barely. He likely knows that playing it up and egging you on might be pushing it too far.

For a moment you take in the sight of him, both with intent to test his patience and to appreciate the view. Diego has a nice, plump ass, thanks to his career as a jockey. It’s always been one of his greatest assets, and unfortunately he’s keenly aware of that. Currently a pale ivory, dotted sparsely with freckles, but it’ll look much nicer when it’s beet red and sore. Your eyes travel from the cleft of his ass, past his taint, down to where his cock hangs, and when it twitches under your stare you roll your eyes.

“You’re such a slut,” you mumble, stepping closer and dragging one hand along the underside of his right thigh, “you know that?”

Diego doesn’t reply, just keeps staring at you with those hazy cerulean eyes as if he’ll die if you don’t keep talking down to him. Not responding to the question earns him a spank, swift and harsh and underhanded against his right cheek. He immediately hisses in pain and grips the sheets with both hands, the skin of his ass already reddening to match the flush across his face.

“I ask a question, you answer.” You give the same spot a gentle caress before spanking him again.

“I’m a slut,” Diego groans, “I know.”

“That’s why you can’t stand the idea of settling down and being an obedient boyfriend, hm?” Another spank, another grunt spills from Diego’s mouth. “You just had to go fuck someone else, even though I’m right here. You’re so pathetic.”

“She’s nothing like you,” Diego attempts to wiggle himself out of the guilt, “I didn’t even cum.”

You know that’s a lie. Diego’s so easy you can make him climax just by looking at him a certain way, and you know this from experience. As much as you’d love to consider this a special skill that only you’re capable of, you know better than that. Give Diego two minutes with someone willing to suck him off and he’s toast.

“Don’t lie to me, I doubt you even lasted five minutes with her.”

Diego chances a laugh, weak and breathlessly, and you take the opportunity to give him several more spanks, this time alternating cheeks until they’re both turning beet red. Each motion is partnered with a firmly spoken and degrading name, driving him further and further into desperation. His whole body is shaking by the time you take a break, observing the entirety of his backside and noting that he’s already hard.

“If you cum without me telling you it’s okay, I’ll toss you out the window.” It’s a threat you obviously wouldn’t seriously follow through on, but Diego’s expression tells you that he’s taking it completely seriously anyway. You’ve never seen him grasp the bedsheets so tightly.

“Yes, love,” he breathes, thighs twitching, “I’ll be good.”

“You’re nowhere close to being ‘good’, not right now,” you scoff, placing a hand on each of his cheeks and digging your nails into the warm, rosy skin, “just do what I say and I’ll think about calling you ‘good’.”

Diego says nothing, but whines desperately at the feeling of you gradually spreading his cheeks, his hole puckering as soon as your eyes hungrily trace over it. You lean closer to let a thick trail of spit fall from your lips, landing directly above his entrance and rolling downwards before your tongue meets it and evenly distributes it across the surface of his sensitive skin. He takes a shaky breath, music to your ears as you languidly lick up from his taint and press a kiss to his hole.

One thing you know for certain is that no other woman gets to do this with him; Diego’s flings are consistent in that he’s always topping, quickly getting off and putting no feeling into what he’s doing, never anything as intimate and drawn out as this. In a sense, yes, putting him down and having your way with him is meant to be a punishment. It’s also serving as a reminder that nobody else in the world knows how to make him feel like this, not like you can.

“Fuck –” Diego whimpers as soon as your tongue delves into his depths, your hands spreading him further and further. You won’t scold him for crying out, not when it makes him sound so feeble.

“You like that?” Your breath fans across his ass as you whisper, and when you lay your tongue flat against his hole again and give him another spank he fights to hold himself up. “You’re filthy.”

“S’good…” his voice is barely audible, his eyes rolling back with every stroke and prod of your tongue.

“Why would you ever fuck anyone else when you can have this?” One of your hands slides across his cheek, pointer finger meeting where your mouth currently hovers and dragging teasingly against his saliva-soaked asshole. “Stupid whore.” You punctuate the insult with another glob of spit landing in the same spot.

“Never again,” Diego weakly insists, pressing his ass further back, aching for more attention, “I only need you.”

That statement, clearly dripping with need, makes you roll your eyes again.

“Y’know, you’re more appealing when you keep your mouth shut.” His hole eagerly takes your finger to the first knuckle, even as you slowly pump it and sink increasingly deeper. His whole body is shaking and his mouth is hanging open, drool coating the sheets where his head rests. Again he offers no response, obediently letting nothing fall from his lips besides hushed sounds of pleasure.

For a while, you fuck him with your fingers, letting your middle join the first and curling to meet the spot you know will drive him further and further to the edge. It’s a true test of his self-control, and honestly you’re impressed by his ability to keep himself from falling apart. Perhaps he has learned his lesson. As soon as he easily takes three of your digits without any hesitation, you decide to move on, but as soon as your fingers leave him he nearly collapses helplessly.

“Please –” he starts as soon as he hears the sound of you removing your bottoms and fiddling with the harness you’d previously pulled from the nightstand. You give his ass another smack as a wordless warning.

As if you’d have any intention of stopping at this point; you’re enjoying yourself far too much for him to ruin it. As soon as you’re fully strapped, you climb atop the mattress to settle behind him.

Further testing his obedience, you forgo the lube and instead drag your strap against the cleft of his ass, letting your spit coat its surface as you tease him. Diego’s hips move to meet the actions, greedy for more as he fights to remain silent. And it’s a fight he’s steadily losing, seeing as he keeps whimpering pleas that aren’t lost on your ears.

Just to play with him, you reach around to blindly locate his cock, cupping his balls and feeling a rush of power when he gives a guttural, shocked moan at the sensation. Eyes blown wide again, he refocuses his stare on you and gives you one of the most pitiful looks you’re ever seen.

“What?” You tease him, flicking his tip and returning both hands to spread his ass. “Go ahead, beg me for it.”

“P-please –” Diego starts, choking on another moan; you can hear his nails puncturing the sheets. “Fuck me, please.”

“Why should I? You think you really deserve that?”

At that, Diego groans with irritation, his entire body heaving as he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. Always so huffy when he doesn’t get his way, but lucky for him he won’t have to wait much longer.

Another thick glob of spit leaves your mouth, landing just above your strap and making gliding between his ass an easier process. For good measure, you give the toy a few strokes to distribute the moisture before pressing its tip against his hole. Diego’s thighs twitch and he holds his breath, waiting for you to fill him up.

“Before I fuck you,” you lean down, much to his dismay, to whisper against the space between his shoulder blades, “I need you to tell me what a filthy cheating slut you are. Tell me what you did.”

Diego fists his hands further into the sheets and grits his teeth. From this angle he can’t quite make direct eye contact, but his eyes still desperately try to look back at you as he finally mutters admittance.

“She gave me a handjob, sucked me off a little, that’s all,” he says, his cheeks further reddening with shame, “nothing more, I promise, love.”

In such a vulnerable and brainless state, it would be unlikely of him to lie. And honestly, you trust him, but it still doesn’t make the entire thing any less enraging.

“Why did you do it?”

“Was lonely,” he whines, shutting his eyes, “while traveling, out of town…”

“You were lonely?” You scoff, palm meeting his ass again, making sure his skin stays just as sensitive and rosy. “That’s a pitiful excuse.”

“You weren’t there, love, if you had been, I –”

“Enough, be quiet.” His excuses are giving you a headache, so you straighten up again and distribute more spit to his asshole until you think he’s ready to take you. Whether he is or not, he’s going to get his ass pounded.

Diego gives a short yelp as soon as you push into him, his hole swallowing up the entire tip and eagerly stretching to accommodate as you sink further, slowly. It’s a beautiful sight, his full, rosy ass being fucked by your strap, his thighs twitching and his upper half shaking at the feeling of being filled by you. You reach forward to brush any hair out of his face and gather it up in your fist, tugging his head to the side so he can make better eye contact with you.

“You look so pathetic right now, Diego,” you coo, your hips finally connecting with his ass as he takes the entirety of your strap with a shaky breath. “Imagine if your fans saw you like this. Face down, drooling and whining, ass being fucked by your girlfriend.”

Diego shivers and offers no reply, he’s too close to falling apart and you’d rather him say nothing anyway. You imagine his cock is probably desperately leaking right now, begging to be touched, but he stays vigilant with his hands still buried in the sheets beneath him.

To his credit, Diego takes it like the champ, letting you fuck him hard and steadily faster, moving his body to meet yours and creating a satisfying smack sound with every snap of your hips. At some point the sight of his blissed-out expression is a bit too much for you to bear, so you lean down and press your lips to his shoulder blade as you continue moving in and out of him. Your kisses are fleeting and short-lived, teeth sinking into the supple skin and biting down hard. Diego gasps as you taste blood on your tongue, he knows you’re going to leave a nasty mark.

When you pull back and see the evidence of your actions, you huff a satisfied laugh and move to a new untouched spot. As you continue marking him, your hand finally gives his cock the attention it so desperately wants, his hips not knowing which way to move between your fist pumping his shaft and your strap still fucking up into him. There’s no way he’s going to last very much longer, based on the whimpers and obscenities that keep breathlessly spilling from his mouth.

“I’m –” he warns, and you immediately cease all contact, sitting up straight again and quickly unsheathing yourself. Diego looks up at you as if you’ve just committed the unholiest of crimes, and to him that must be exactly how it feels.

“Not yet, you’re not.” You fold your arms across your chest and eye him, trying to decide how to make his life even more difficult. “Lay down, on your back.”

Diego, face flushed and body glistening with sweat, gives you a pained look before huffing and obeying, his head hitting the pillow and his hands landing just inches away from his leaking cock. It almost looks like he might cry as he watches you remove your harness and toss it to the foot of the mattress.

“Love, please –” he whines, writhing slightly against the sheets, his body aching for you, for anything you’d be willing to give him.

“You’re going to put that filthy mouth of yours to good use, for once.” He watches closely as you climb atop the bed again, straddling his upper half, your pussy dangerously close to his face.

You prod at his mouth with your thumb and he allows it to enter and press firmly against the surface of his tongue. He sucks on the digit, eyes half-lidded and staring up into yours. You utter a request for him to open, sliding the pad of your thumb across his lower lip before leaning down and spitting directly into his mouth again. Diego immediately moans and without looking you can feel his hips lifting, as if trying to fuck up into the air.

“Taste good?” You ask, giving his cheek a little slap as soon as he groans confirmation. “This’ll taste even better.”

Diego already knows what you’re doing, but he refrains from touching you as you turn around, sitting directly against his face with your palms resting against his chest. You hadn’t realized just how wet you’d gotten from fucking him, and his tongue eagerly laps up against you to further coat your entrance with moisture. His ministrations are less enthusiastic than usual, so you remind him who’s boss with a pinch to his nipple.

“Eat up, Diego, this might be the last time you ever get to do this.” The threat draws a noise from out of his throat, muffled by your body pressed tight against his face. “Ungrateful bitch.”

Diego’s tongue delves deep between your folds, sliding out only to toy with your clit and further wet the surface of your cunt. The sounds he’s making are obscene, one glance down at him and you can see a sheen of spit and juices coating his chin. His breath comes in gasps, almost as if he’s forgetting to breathe amidst the sheer pleasure of eating you out. Your eyes trail down from his chin to the length of his throat, watching his adam’s apple move as his mouth continues working.

As soon as your palm presses against his throat, Diego’s body reacts with brief shock but he doesn’t stop you. Gradually, you curl your hand around its surface, squeezing and immediately sensing the tension in his ministrations. His cock twitches against his abdomen as you continue choking him, you’re almost certain that one touch to his tip would push him overboard.

After a few seconds, Diego chokes against you, his mouth faltering and sputtering as he continues trying to please you despite lack of oxygen. Eventually you take pity on him, releasing his throat and grinding down harder against his face as he gasps for breath. Your own need is starting to overwhelm you, making you lay down against his torso and finally wrap a hand around his cock. Diego��s hips buck upwards as you touch him, and you allow him to fuck into your fist as you keep your mouth open and ready for his inevitable release. The aggression and enthusiasm with which he’s devouring you is driving you to your own precipice, your breath becoming shaky and labored.

Your climaxes are nearly simultaneous, your walls tightening around his tongue as he continues sucking at your clit, his cum spilling out between your lips and coating your chin. He makes no action to move you from off of him, but as soon as the last bit of his cum has been squeezed out onto your tongue you quickly flip around again, leaning down to kiss him with as much force as you did earlier.

The kiss is messy, his tongue lapping up at his own release, letting it mingle amongst your shared spit. When you part for breath you offer him no time to recover before spitting again, making certain that every last bit of his filth is resting in his mouth and not yours.

“Swallow.” You weakly command, only satisfied when Diego does so, opening his mouth to prove he’s obeyed. “Disgusting.”

Boneless, Diego lays there, staring up at you through hazy half-lidded eyes. And still, his hands stay at his sides, not once touching you, just as you’d demanded. You figure that earns him at least a little bit of praise.

“See? This is what happens when you’re a good boy.” You give his cheek another light smack, watching as his head rolls weakly to the side with the force of it. “Now get out.”

It takes a moment for the words to really hit him, but once you’ve climbed off the bed and started putting your underwear back on, Diego makes a pathetic little noise and pouts.

“‘Get out’?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” You raise an eyebrow, picking up his own boxer briefs and tossing them at his head. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“I… wh –” Diego sputters, voice briefly muffled by his underwear smacking him in the face. “Love, I thought –”

“If you think I’ve forgiven you then you’re sorely mistaken.” You laugh triumphantly, watching as he sulks and pulls his clothes back on. “That ass is gonna have to get fucked a few more times before I even think about letting you off the hook.”

Diego’s pout briefly shifts to an obnoxious smirk. “Promise?”

“Ugh,” you loudly groan, clapping both hands against his shoulders and guiding him out of the bedroom. “Enough. Goodnight.”

You quickly shut the bedroom door as soon as he’s out, hearing him chuckle and mutter a declaration of love. Biting back a smile, you take a deep breath and begin cleaning up.

Unfortunately, you love him too.

[earlgreytea68]

I am reading the Emily Wilson translation of The Iliad right now. I read her translation of The Odyssey earlier this year and I'm sure the translation is fantastic, but I was really fascinated by how strongly I disliked the story. Fascinated because I'd read it several times through high school and college and I never remember disliking it as much as I liked it as a grown-up.

So I decided to re-read The Iliad just to see. I've read this one before, too, but I think I only read it once. I don't have a very strong memory of it. I'm almost halfway through and here are my thoughts on The Iliad:

This story is basically just endless descriptions of battles in great, gory details. Here is how this one died, and this one, and this one. There are so many battles and so many people dying, I don't really understand what happened for the nine years leading up to this story. Like, did they just sit around staring at each other and then finally decide to fight?

The fighting is so fascinating to me. It's clearly so up-close and personal because there are no guns and so everyone's right on top of each other and have to look each other in the eye as they cut off each other's heads and stuff, and you would think that these people must be cold as ice to be doing this stuff. But then there'll be a random scene where one Greek is about to kill one Trojan and is like, "Hang on, don't I know you?" and they realize their dads were friends and they used to play together and they're like, "Ha! We won't kill each other! We'll hang out when this war is over!" And they shake hands and then...go off and start violently killing other people instead. It's like ?????

The explanation is that the gods make them hunger for war more than anything else, just fyi.

The striking thing about both of these epics is how the Greek theory of the gods erases all concept of personal responsibility. Whenever people behave atrociously, everyone around them literally says things like, "I don't blame you. I blame the evil god that is possessing you right now." On the one hand, this theory makes sense in a world that was clearly so utterly bewildering that they couldn't explain beyond just hand-waving, like, those wild gods of ours, you never know what they're doing! But on the other hand, it's so frustrating that nobody is ever held responsible for any behavior.

None of the characters are likable, not one, in either of these stories. I have hated all of them. I think it's interesting how the idea of a sympathetic character doesn't seem to truly exist at the time these epics were being written, or rather their idea of what made a character sympathetic is very different from the modern idea. Like, I'm sure Odysseus is *supposed* to be someone we root for...but he's a jerk lol. And in The Iliad, I literally hate everyone on both the Greek and Trojan sides. Like, occasionally one of them does something not terrible, but then they go right back to being jerks right after that. I would love that to be a story choice, that you're not rooting for either side to win and you're okay with all these people just wiping each other out, but I think I'm supposed to be on the side of the Greeks. They're just all pretty unbearable people, so I'm not.

The best character so far in the whole thing is Paris hahahaha. He should be the arch-villain of them all, and it's not that I actually like him, but he's at least got some flair to him! I respect him! Like, there's this great scene where everybody's fighting and Hector realizes that Paris is just hanging out at home with Helen, and Hector is like, "Buddy, YOU ARE THE ENTIRE REASON WE ARE AT WAR, BECAUSE YOU KIDNAPPED THIS WOMAN, DO YOU THINK YOU SHOULD GO AND FIGHT????" and Paris is so chill, like, Moi? Fight? You should have said something! I guess I can go out there! And then there's this other great part where he randomly shows up in the middle of the battle to, like, shoot an arrow through this other guy's foot????? Just because he's just that cool in battle???? hahaha he's described as leaning up against a column and he just kind of says, like, "Hey. Diomedes. Little baby. Gonna shoot your foot," and shoots his food, and it's the coolest thing anyone's done in the whole epic hahahaha. And then Diomedes is furious and says that Paris has "stupid hair" hahahah WHAT???? Meanwhile other people are chopping off each other's arms and these two are sniping at each other like this???? I don't even understand this war lol

I don't get Helen and I get that it's because the original Greek writers didn't care what Helen thought about any of this because she doesn't have any agency (although to be fair none of them have agency because only the gods have agency) but, like, I genuinely can't figure out if she wants the Greeks or Trojans to win. Maybe she just wants everyone to die. Me, too, Helen.

I love that Emily Wilson describes Achilles as basically sobbing his heart out because Agamemnon stole his enslaved woman from him. Like, I just enjoy that the Greek concept of masculinity allowed Achilles to sob it out and nobody called him unmanly.

That said, Agamemnon is a huge jerk and I'm annoyed by all the Greeks telling Achilles to get over Agamemnon's insult. Achilles wants to take his ship and go home and the Greeks are like, FOR SHAME. No, this is truly the only sensible thing to do. They should all take their ships and go home. But Agamemnon being like, "I will send Odysseus to apologize to Achilles for me," and Achilles is like, "I do not accept this apology," and the Greeks are like, "That Achilles! He's so stubborn!" Like, Agamemnon can't even be bothered to go apologize in person! It's continued insult afa I am concerned! (I probably don't understand the subtle interactions of Greek society lol)

I enjoy how they're always sacrificing to the gods but the sacrificing involves...them partying and feasting. I think I thought sacrificing meant they killed the bull and left it for the gods, but instead they kill the bull for the gods but then they eat the bull and have a big party. Sacrificing seems like just an excuse for a party, it turns out.

There's this part where Zeus is like, "Hey, if anyone interferes with the humans fighting their little war down there, I will smite you and throw you down into torment and punishment forever, don't think I won't." And Athena is like, "You're a big meanie," and so Zeus is like, "Ha ha, just kidding, love you, kiddo." I was like, .......everything in this society is severely dysfunctional.

So I wouldn't say I am exactly enjoying reading it lol, but I feel like I am learning a lot about ancient Greece and what they valued and found interesting and admired and how that differs from me in my twenty-first century world.

[ejzah]

A/N: What happens when I watch “Paper Soldiers”, a fairly angst free episode? I immediately write a very angsty fic borne from a few random lines of dialogue. I’m also back to borrowing random lyrics from Wicked.

***

Unlike I Anticipated

“Agent Blye continued to pursue,” Deeks muttered to himself, typing along with his monologue. He had about half of his report written when he fell Kensi’s gaze on him. Sure enough, the next time he checked his notes, he saw her watching him out of the corner of his eye. It was just the two of them now, in the quiet of the empty bullpen.

“Yeees?” he prompted. Kensi didn’t say anything. “Come on, I can literally feel you thinking. It’s super distracting. If this is about what that guy said to you, because I would have understood if you punched him.”

“No, it’s not about that creep,” Kensi told him. She fiddled with her pencil, pushed a couple of trinkets around her desk, increasing Deeks’ curiosity with every second she stalled. It either had to be something embarrassing or that he wouldn’t like.

“When we were talking about you being a public defender, it got me thinking. I was wondering what that was like?” She shrugged, and Deeks understood why she felt so uncomfortable.

They weren’t this direct. Not in this way. Not without jokes and work to act as a buffer. Not when it was just the two of them late at night.

He turned to face her. “What’s going on with you? First you’re imagining me at my former former job, now you want to know what it was like?”

“Sorry.” She held up her hands, instantly defensive. “God forbid I show some interest in my partner’s life.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that.” Brushing her shoulder to stop her from getting up and leaving, Deeks waved her back down. “Just, stop for two seconds, ok? What exactly do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Most of the public defenders I’ve run into through cases have either been jerks or seemed like they just stumbled out of law school,” she said.

“That is pretty accurate,” Deeks agreed. He’d worked with one guy who’d hated his guts from day one and a woman who’d shook every day she walked into court. She’d quit after two months.

“You put up with a lot at LAPD, right? Bad partners, Bates, working rough undercover cases all on your own with almost no support. So, the LA court system much have been particularly awful for you to just up and leave after a couple of years,” Kensi surmised rather shrewdly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I just up and left,” Deeks hedged. “It did suck though.” He leaned back, addressing Kensi more seriously. He never liked talking about his time as a lawyer; he largely considered it one of the more miserable and disheartening points of his life. Which was saying something.

“I went into law because I wanted to help people. I had this idealized notion that I could—rescue kids like me before the worst happened. Or stop the people like my dad,” he explained. He smiled sardonically. “I guess I pictured myself as a modern day Atticus Finch.” He chuckled to himself at how poorly his own attempts at playing judicial savior had gone. Kensi would have a field day if she ever found out he shared a middle name with a literary attorney.

“So you weren’t stopping the injustices of the world?” Kensi guessed.

“I knew I’d have to defend criminals and generally bad people, but I, naively, thought I’d also get those cases with the wife who shoots her abusive husband or the teenager who needs a second chance. Instead, I had to defend truly awful people and watch their cases get dismissed because I had a better argument, or there was an issue with evidence, or the victim dropped charges. Nine days out of ten, I hated it.”

A moment too late, he realized just how much he’d revealed, and he swallowed self-consciously. Kensi’s eyes held a little bit too much sympathy and compassion as she watched him.

“So, I quit.”

“And you thought LAPD would be better?” she asked.

“Maybe not. I figured I’d at least have the opportunity to intervene where it mattered. I’d be able to make sure the chain of evidence wasn’t broken and maybe that mom wouldn’t need to shoot her husband because a cop actually listened to her for a change,” he said, his voice hoarse. His lips twitched in an approximation of a smile. “Then I jumped ship when Hetty offered the liaison position.”

“I’m glad you did.” For once, there wasn’t a hint of teasing in Kensi’s voice. “I hope NCIS is better than the courts or LAPD.”

“It is.”

“Good.” Kensi grabbed her pencil again, seemingly ready to get back to her paperwork, then paused, hesitating for several seconds before she added, “For the record, you did make a difference. Even if it didn’t feel like it at the time.”

Deeks sat back, letting Kensi’s words sink in. He didn’t know if he fully believed her, but for the first time, the thought of his previous careers didn’t leave him feeling bitter and hopeless.

[rougepancake]

Domestic mitsuri x shinbou x fem reader HCS! (Could be nsfw or sfw whatever works for u!)

DATE NIGHT

What it’s like to date them

Sfw & nsfw hcs (mixed together I am so sorry I wasn’t thinking 😭)

Ft. Shinobu Kocho and Mitsuri Kanroji

Warnings: Some suggestive material under cut but nothing too bad. Modern au. Had a blast writing this tsym anon 😩

SHINOBU KOCHO

If you’re taller than her then have fun. She’ll look up at you and KICK YOUR ASS for simply being tall

If you’re shorter than her you’ll get pampered because she feels the need to rub it in

She’s definitely into quality time and physical touch all the way. Since she doesn’t tend to vocalize how she’s feeling, these kind of make up for it 😉

Is definitely the type of gal to book mani pedis for you two as a date as well as go and get your hair dyed together

Unlike Mitsuri, she isn’t clingy and trusts you quite a lot. She knows that no one else can eat you out as good as she can, and it kills you every time she mentions it

SPEAKING OF MENTIONING IT

She’ll openly dirty talk you in public with no shame whatsoever. In fact, she’s brutal

Won’t even stop if you offer to pay her

Has no regrets because she loves seeing you all flustered and cute like that

If she spends the night at your place BE PREPARED

She cuddles in her sleep and DENIES IT TO DEATH

Also enjoys showering/bathing together but not in a sexual way. She believes that it’s a good way to spend time together and just bond as a couple

HERE COMES THE QUALITY TIME AGAIN RAHHHH

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, when you’re doing it, or how long it’ll take you, she will find a way to join and/or help you out

Unless you’re complaining about it

Then she’ll sit and watch you suffer 😔

All in all, she’s the type of woman to definitely wind up in a relationship with the “best friends” dynamic

You have a lot of fun together and she wouldn’t want it any other way

MITSURI KANROJI

SHE LOVES TO GO ON ADVENTURES

That’s how you spend a lot of your time together (post/during your relationship)

Her love languages are receiving gifts and words of affirmation

If you say you can’t do it think again!! You’ll wholeheartedly believe you can by the time she’s done with you!!!!

Loves to go out and try new things!! She’ll try anything once and definitely lives with the yolo mindset

Her ideal date is going out on a hike or trying a new restaurant. Either is fine for her as long as you’re down for the ride

Since she’ll try anything once, your time alone is fairly interesting. In the sense of you’ll bring something up and she’ll say yes without a second thought

Prefers to keep what happens in the bedroom between you and her. HATES public humiliation going both ways because she feels guilty afterwards

Since one of her love languages is receiving gifts, she loves to show up with random trinkets and such that she’s found

“Oh here you go Y/n! This shiny rock made me think of you!!”

Stuff like that

It’s honestly so sweet

She was once a hopeless romantic, and now that she has you, she’s a bit worried that you might just up and vanish one day, so she has a tendency to be a little clingy

That’s okay though cause you love it

(She also enjoys cooking for you quite a bit but is quite embarrassed to admit it since her cooking skills are questionable)

Also enjoys watching movies with you and ‘accidentally’ falling asleep on your lap

She enjoys romantic cliches (even if they’re stupid)

You guys were definitely close friends before you started dating, so you’ve got that ‘we know each other better than our own parents’ type of vibe

Let’s just say you’re incredibly grateful that you wound up meeting her 😩

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Fairy tales in Disguise

Words: 2,440

Au: collage professors au/modern au

For: @howdoesoneadult

Tick-Tock

              Tick-Tock

The hands on his watch counted down the seconds. There was still five minutes left before Kakashi could officially be considered late, but Gai couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at the situation.

They’d promised to meet at their favourite cafe, the same one they’d been going to since they young college students trying to find their way through the world, and Kakashi had the audacity to keep him waiting.

“I should know better,” forcing himself to look away from his watch, he focused instead on the book he was holding. ‘Gods and Heros: Fantastic Tales’. It was one of the newest books on mythology he could get his hands on during his last visit to the bookstore and he had made it his personal goal to read all of it before the next semester began.

Only two weeks and one hundred and fifty-seven pages to go before he met that goal.

One upside of Kakashi being late was that he had more time to read.

“That looks interesting,” he barely had an opportunity to lower his book before the seat across from him was being claimed. It wasn’t Kakashi sitting across from him, but an older woman with long brown hair and curious brown eyes that were fixated on his book. “is that new?”

“i-it came out just last month,” he confirmed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but-“

“you’re not rude at all,” the woman cut him off, a cheerful smile that looked eerily familiar. Yet, when he searched his memory for any hint of who the woman was he couldn’t come up with a single thing.

She was a strange, yet she’d claimed the seat opposite of him as if they were best friends.

“How is it?”

“What?”

“The book,” she pointed at the book in his hands. “Are the stories any good?”

“They’re the same,” he admitted, though thinking back he had found that the stories he’d read so far had a bit more excitement to them than previous ones. They were more fanciful, with a bit more adventure and excitement. “they keep the original tales but add a bit more…flare.”

“Like any good fairy tale.”

Gai cringed at the use of that word.

He couldn’t never quite explain it, but he hated it when people referred to mythology as fairy tales. Sure, there were a lot of similarities, but the comparison felt forced. Like a book seller trying to slap a title on the book just so it seemed more appealing to shoppers.

“Myth’s,” he corrected her gently while placing his bookmark back into its place and closing the book. “they’re myths.”

“Which are fairy tales we use to explain what happens around us,” she fired back, a triumphant smile that reminded him a little of Kakashi. Whenever he was arguing, and especially when he was correct, he got a smile just like that one.

Sometimes it was the most beautiful smile Gai had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Other times, like right now, it irritated him.

“Fairy tales are random stories a talented writer comes up with,” he argued. “they’re in fanciful worlds with magic powers. They have talking animals and incredible hero’s and…” she raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue. He tried, but as he thought through the argument that he’d had a hundred times before a realization hit. “I’m just proving your point…” his shoulders slumped and his eyes dropped down to the book.

He'd had this argument with so many people over the years. All of them had their reason’s for calling myth’s ‘fairy tales’ but no matter what they had to say he always had a counter point, and while there was never a clear winner in those arguments he’d walked away satisfied that he’d educated them about the importance of myth’s a little.

Yet, sitting across from this stranger he found himself questioning every single one of those arguments.

“Myth’s,” he insisted. “they’re Myth’s. An integral part of society. They help us understand what’s going on around us, how things came to be. They attempt to answer every question we have about the world around us.”

They were Myth’s, not fairy tales.

There was a fundamental difference. He couldn’t think of what exactly that difference was, but he knew there was one.

“Fairy tales are an extension of those same questions,” his companion responded, her smile growing softer as she dug her hand into her bag and pulled out a book of her own. This one was much smaller than Gai’s, with flower’s decorating the spine and a bright purple cover that caught his attention easily. “This fairy tale had its own goddess’.”

“Did real people believe in them?”

“No,” she conceded. “But they’re still gods. Just as likely to exist as the one’s in your book.”

On that, Gai didn’t even bother trying to argue. As much as he loved mythology, he was not a religious man. The gods in his stories were fascinating, but they were no more real than the gods people worshipped today.

Their stories were simply more interesting to him.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know,” she continued, settling a bit more into her seat. “to call them Fairy tales. Fairy tales are one of countless ways we express ourselves. We find joy in them. They make us cry, scare us. Sometimes they even force us to think about the world around us. Is that not what your myth’s do?”

“well, yes-“

“Yet they’re different?”

“They’re a look into society,” he answered, his finger tracing over the book’s spine. “They tell you what people want to believe. Not just one person, like a fairy tale, but a whole society. Myth’s let you look into the souls of people who are long gone and will never have the chance to explain how they saw the world. They’re one of the few sources we have to see into the minds of those people. To see the world as they saw it. Fairy tales can offer a similar glimpse, but they’re restricted to a hand full of people and they’re shared with the world. When someone reads a fairy tale, they don’t do so believing that the world they’re entering is in any way real.”

“You believe that” she gestured to his book. “Is a believable world.”

“No,” he chuckled at the thought. “But once upon a time, people did. They worshipped these gods and heroes. they went to temples with offerings, prayers, and sought knowledge from the people in these stories.”

The smile on her face only seemed to grow the more he spoke.

“Tell me this,” setting his book down on the table, he crossed his arms over it and leaned forward. “When you read your fairy tales, do you come out of them thinking that the fairy’s and gods are so real that you should worship them?”

“I do not.”

“But these,” he picked up the book and held it in front of himself so she could get a good look at it. “These are fairy tales, sure, but they’re fairy tales people believed in. they’re fairy tales people learned not just their morals from, but which became such an integral part of their world that they were willing to fight for them. To shed blood for them.”

“You have clearly never been on a public form to discuss your favourite fairy tale with other fans.”

An image of Kakashi hunched over his phone typing furiously while muttering about ‘reading comprehension’ and ‘stupid people’ popped into his head at that moment. It was difficult not to laugh, since the view was always so delightfully ridiculous.

“my boyfriend does a lot of that,” he admitted, chuckling as he thought about how much Kakashi would hate him discussing his personal flaws with a stranger. “he gets very heated over them.”

“mmm, yes Kakashi does do that,” the smile dropped off of his face instantly and he stared at the woman in front of him, her words dancing around in his head.

“Sorry,” he shook his head. “Kakashi. Do you…do I know you?”

“Not really no,” she continued to smile, which only served to annoy Gai more as he struggled to figure out just who she was an how she knew his boyfriend. “Kakashi should be here soon, correct?”

“uh, well,” glancing down at his watch he frowned. It was not three pm. The time when him and Kakashi had agreed to meet. “He should be here right now, but he’s usually late.”

“He won’t be late today.”

“how can you-“

“Sorry,” Kakashi’s voice called out. Looking up, Gai grinned when he saw Kakashi making his way toward the table with a book in one hand and a leash in the other, his service dog Pakkun happily trotting alongside him. “I hope I’m not late.”

“Right on time, actually,” standing up, Gai waited until Kakashi was close enough and leaned in to steal a quick kiss. “I seem to have made a new friend. She says you know her.”

“Hmm?” looking at the other side of the table, Kakashi frowned when he saw the woman sitting there in his spot. “I thought I told you I was going to meet you tomorrow.”

“I wanted to meet today,” she countered, that cheerful smile still on her face. “Besides, we both know you would have continued to hide your boyfriend away if I didn’t make an appearance on my own.”

“I would not.”

“So, you’ll let your father meet him tomorrow?”

“I…” pausing, he glanced back at Gai. “To clarify, before you get any ideas, it’s not you I’m embarrassed of.”

“Me?” Placing a hand over his chest, Gai gasped. “Why would you ever be embarrassed of me? I’m wonderful!”

“A fact that Kakashi continues to reiterate every time we speak,” the woman spoke with fondness. “Yet I feel as though he never mentions us.”

“I do!”

“Oh? What does he know of us then?”

“Well, he knows dad works in the police force.”

Gai hummed. One of the first things Kakashi had told him when they met was how his father was an officer in the police force and his mother was a writer.

A writer who had given him his love of books, and who loved fairy tales more than anything else.

“Oh…” he cringed as the realization hit him. It seemed so obvious now that he knew, yet it had flown right over his head.

Their smile was the same.

Their love of books the same.

They even shared a mole on the right side of their chin, though he forgave himself for forgetting about that. Most days Kakashi’s mole was hidden by his mask so it was easy to forget it existed, even if he did think it was the cutest thing ever.

“See? I’ve told him about you.”

“Your mom’s in town? No, your parents?” he gasped. “and you didn’t tell me? We have to have dinner!”

“Gai, please-“

“Tomorrow night, no tonight,” he insisted. “at our favourite Sushi spot. We can get a sushi boat and-“

“Gai….”

“And we can continue this conversation,” he turned his attention to Kakashi’s mother, his smile growing even brighter.

“You mean the one about how myths are just fairy tales with a different name?”

“Mom!” Kakashi yelped, his hands reaching out to cover her mouth only to be slapped away. “We talked about this. That’s the one thing I told you not to do.”

“Which of course means I had to,” she huffed. “And he makes some good points. I’m looking forward to hearing what more he has to say on the topic.”

Slapping a hand over his face, Kakashi groaned. “This is why,” he grumbled. “I can’t leave you alone for five seconds. How can I introduce the most important person in my life to you when you can’t even stop yourself from getting him riled up over something I told you upsets him?”

Gai stood there staring at his boyfriend, his heart swelling with love as his words sank in.

“The most important person in your life?” his mother repeated, and Gai’s smile grew impossibly wide.

“I-well-“ Kakashi’s eyes darted between the two of them, panic setting in as he realized just what he had said. “Can we start over? This is going all wrong.”

“No,” wrapping an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders, Gai pulled tight against his body. While he did that, Pakkun walked forward and plopped himself down directly beside Kakashi’s mother. “I think it’s going perfectly.”

“Me too,” standing up, she extended a hand toward Gai. “And since my son won’t give us a proper introduction, I am Yua.”

“Yua,” Gai chuckled. “Like the warrior hero from the land of Iron.”

“Oh, you read mythology from the land of Iron as well?”

“I didn’t use to,” he admitted a bit sheepishly. “But when Kakashi told me his mother came from there I thought I should pick up some copies. Fill myself in. I wouldn’t be a good teacher if I didn’t gather as much information as I could, right?”

Her eyes twinkled with excitement. “So he did mention us.”

“A lot,” he confirmed. “You’re his hero’s.”

“Ok,” placing himself between the two of them, Kakashi glared at Gai. “We don’t need to tell them everything I say, do we?”

“Maybe not,” Gai conceded. “I can save all of that for tonight.”

“Wait a minute-“

“And we’ll have to tell you all the things he says about you,” Yua continued over her son. “Calling you the most important person in his life doesn’t even begin to describe how much he adores you.”

“Mother…”

“I like this one,” she smiled at Kakashi, a tender look in her eyes. “You chose well.”

Looking back at Gai, Kakashi chuckled fondly. “I did,” he confirmed, leaning slightly into Gai’s body so that their heads were almost touching. “He’s just as embarrassing as you and dad. Perfect for me, really.”

Throwing his head back, Gai let out a loud, cheerful laugh.

There was nothing in the world, he was certain, that could truly embarrass Hatake Kakashi, but knowing that he was one of a select few people with the capabilities to do that felt nice. It was a power he’d have to be careful with. He didn’t want to abuse it.

Except, maybe tonight. Kakashi would forgive him for this one transgression.

It might be his only opportunity to tell his beloveds parents about the time he’d jumped into a river to save a dog only to have the dog swim away from him just as he reached it.

[magicxc]

Toxic Traits

Pairings: Survey Corps x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1280

Warnings: none

A/N: I love a lil toxicity lol. This is the variety I was talking about earlier. From the mundane to the sexy and even the toxic. Everyone has their flaws, now let's explore what I think theirs is in a relationship. Tell me which trait you think matches their character the best. 

Its as the name suggests - toxic. No physical abuse or sexual deviance of the sort, but do proceed with caution or not at all if toxic-type themes aren’t your cup of tea.

Lastly, do note that I have a habit of modernizing these characters while keeping their stories true at its core lol. So if you see me mention trauma from titans and a range rover in the same sentence, just mind ya business.

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren - Jealous

You never knew what kind of day you were gonna get with Eren. Sometimes it’d be the best day ever and other times it’d be the worst. You make eye contact with some random man for a second too long? Clearly you want him. You’re paying for something and the hand of the cashier slides against yours during the transaction? Thats basically cheating because now you’ve hand fucked a stranger. You give a full frontal hug and not the, more appropriate, side hug to one of your male friends? You two must be fucking each other. As intense as Eren can be, you found that the pendulum swung both ways. He’d get down on his knees and worship the rain for nourishing the grass that you walked on should you ask for it, so it was hard to walk away when he got into his little fits. It was like a see-saw of emotions being in this relationship, the highs feeling ethereal and the lows leaving you distraught. You often wondered why you allowed Eren to get away with such behavior.

Levi - Possessive

It was like a double edged sword with this man. He was all for showing you off until someone's eyes wandered just a little too long, now he’s shoving his tongue to the deepest parts of your throat until they get the message. One time Connie complimented the shirt you were wearing which happened to be a low cut and exposed your chest; and Levi’s immediate response was to litter your skin in love bites. Anything to get the message across and let others know that you were a claimed woman. Cause Levi isn’t too much for the long talking and he would hate to see push come to shove for whichever poor bastard couldn't get the message. While you adored how much he loved you, being with him definitely got a little exhausting from time to time.

Erwin - Controlling

He’s a commander so he’s used to people following his orders without question. And while he isn’t always unreasonable, Erwin does expect you to take into consideration his every suggestion, and by consideration, he means do it. It can be as simple as styling your hair, cooking a certain meal, or saving your more risqué outfits for when he accompanies you. Though he phrases his demands politely you can't help but feel a little confused after every encounter; wondering how he’d talk you down on something you were so headstrong about. Thankfully he didn't ask for such outrageous requests, and you’ve since learned not to question it; for the last time you found yourself with a sore ass.

Connie - Petty/Blackmail 

Slippery slope this one. Pissed him off? Well now he’s taking the things you didnt realise were gone until you needed them. Shoelaces out of all the shoes, backs to your earrings, lightbulbs from each room. Not in the mood for sex? He may as well go get it elsewhere. You finally build up the courage to walk away from him. Well now your boss is about to find out exactly what that mouth do. Connie himself is unsure if he’d ever follow through with his more extreme threats since it always works out in the end. I guess it’s really only one way to find out and thankfully you’ve never been stupid enough to try it.

Jean - Obsessive

Jean doesn’t have a whole lotta chances at true love lowkey. First real crush paid him dust. His bestie died during training. And his other bestie died during a mission. Considering he’s one of the few people with the least traumatic childhood, I think he loses his shit at the idea of letting love slip away, because everyone somehow always ends up leaving him. Therefore he needs to know your every move, your daily routines, hours spent on a typical girls night out, mileage it takes to make sure that you’re going exactly where you said you were. You couldn’t sneeze without running it past Jean first. But life sure is easier now that he’s got a tracker on both your phone and car. It would raise the tension if you were to find out, he thinks, but what could you do about it really? 

Onyankopon - Arrogance. 

Mans can literally never be wrong and it’s super frustrating. It's like talking to a brick wall. He’s entertaining some girl who’s clearly flirting with him and suddenly you don’t know the meaning of friendship. You wanted pasta for dinner? Well he’s cooking soup because it’s heartier. You’re in the middle of an argument yet he’s only focusing on the minor details that are wrong in the story as opposed to the bigger picture overall. But it’s okay, cause he doesn’t mind working through these little hiccups with you. After all, where else would you go? Who else would love on you the way he does? Put up with your constant nagging? Only he would.

Reiner - Yandere

Not only was he never supposed to find love, but the idea of him finally finding it and almost losing it? Let's just say it doesn’t end too well for your dating prospects; and after a while Reiner makes it clear that it can end just as bad for you. Reiner is a sweetie pie and a devout lover when things are going great. But sometimes he gets to be a bit overbearing, and what was supposed to be a break between the both of you turned into him breaking some bones. The same ones that your friend dared try to comfort you with. Since then, the relationship has been as steady as it can be and you’ve been getting nothing but queen treatment, but at what cost?!

Armin - Dishonesty/Isolation Not a trait that raises too many red flags, until it does. Armin loves being around you. He considers you his best friend and has no qualms about you both spending literally 24/7 wrapped in each other’s arms. Though your friends were happy for you guys at first, it did raise a few eyebrows down the line. You both had gone from sharing similar interests to sharing an identical lifestyle. The same job, the same apartment, and the same friends all seemed to merge into one. But how could Armin help it when you were…well you. So what if a few phone calls from your homegirls to hang out went ignored or a few check in text messages from your family got deleted? Armin would claim to never know, see, or hear such a thing; and it’s usually the story he stuck to. But should you ever question him further, he’d find a way to put your mouth to better use, dick stuffed so far back until you forgot what had you so upset with him in the first place.

Floch - Manipulation 

Any time you get mad at him, he becomes the king of gaslightery. Floch went all day without sending so much as a text message? Well he worked a double to put food on the table. Valentine's day passed and he didn't get you any flowers? He doesn’t need a holiday to show you how much he loves you. You want to wait a while before tying the knot? Now you're using him for all he's got and wasting his time. Very rarely did Floch get nasty in his insults or the manner in which he manipulated you. In fact, they were always followed by a soft voice, gentle touches, and a redeeming act. So how could you stay mad at him when he was truly trying his best to build a great lifestyle for you both. 

[starry-eve]

Reading: The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins

Ugggh. p. 130…

I hate when a book is humming along fine and then I begin to realize that there’s a HUGE plot hole. It just takes me totally out of the story.

One of the main characters is completely unbelievable. Her motives make absolutely no sense, even for Victorian times.

We’re supposed to believe that a woman is willing to acquiesce to a marriage she doesn’t want SIMPLY because of a totally random (as yet) unexplained long ago deathbed promise to her father???!!!

The entire PLOT hinges on us suspending disbelief of this. And I literally cannot.

It’s obvious to everyone that the man is most likely wanting to marry her for money, and even worse…he is also very likely looking to do her harm for that money.

And she just passively goes along. 🙄

Even for a Victorian woman, this is too difficult to believe.

It’s totally ruining the story for me.

I thought maybe it was just me…but even AI agrees with me!!

“Laura's emotional responses are often muted, even when facing significant challenges, which can make her seem less relatable and more like a plot device than a fully developed character”—AI

Thank you AI.

DNF??? Or keep on reading??

Am I being too hard on this author? Should I continue to read?

Idk. Jeez.

This happens every time I try to read a classic.

It’s so difficult to suspend disbelief about these plots and characters as a modern person.

AI, please help me out…

Thank you, AI.

EVERY SINGLE PERSON I FOLLOW ON GOODREADS GAVE THIS BOOK 4 OR 5 STARS!!!!!!!!

So I’m thinking…maybe it’s me. 🤔😩

I’ll keep going I guess. Maybe it will grow on me.

I think the problem is that I was looking for a serious classic, and this is a goofball farce.

Plus…it’s soooooooo predictable. The baron and Mrs. Fosco will most certainly be in cahoots.

It’s fine. But it’s way too long and drawn out for melodrama.

Maybe it’s because I just finished a Koontz book.

I was actually in the mood for serious literature and beautiful language.

If I wanted this content I would just read Victoria Holt. 😕

I think I’m going to “soft dnf” for now. I’ll pick it up again when I’m more in the mood for a gothic potboiler.

[the-s-exy-squad]

Foxes Headcanons (Modern Day: Social Media Edition)

•Neil Josten uses social media after canon.

^ he posts the most vague shit ever and dark humor posts. He also has an anonymous hate page full of Riko Moriyama being clumsy or clips from the game where he lost against the foxes.

^^ he uses audios on TikTok and other socials that imply he’s fallen for someone he was on a team with and just lets the fan base assume it was Matt bc the whole Andrew/Neil rivalry. He likes to see reactions.

•Andrew starts to do art to express himself.

^He has a few anonymous art accounts throughout a few platforms and posts like twice a week on each. Hes really popular on TikTok and insta.

^^Neil stumbles across his content and realizes it’s him because he posted a picture he drew and sat on his dresser. Neil doesn’t tell him but frequently visits the accounts bc he wants to see Andrews art but knows he isn’t comfortable sharing in person or he would have.

•Matt and Dan would be influencers.

^ Matt mostly does sports equipment rating and reviews but he also does goofy ass videos with the rest of the foxes. Dan would do a lot about woman rights and activism in general. Big supporter of the LBGTQ.

^^ I like to think they’d occasionally do videos where Dan reviews make up products but uses them on Matt instead. They’re usually silly.

•Aaron takes pictures of every drink he gets from Starbucks and is obsessed. He is a Starbucks girly and has over 200000 pts on the app.

^He saves the pts to use when he’s desperate and for whatever reason didn’t have his wallet on hand.

^^^Starbucks deadass sponsors him.

•Kevin doesn’t do socials and just hired people to run accounts for him.

^ He does the photo shoots and tells them specifically what photos to use. He also puts interview clips so people often time think they’re just fan accounts.

^^he also records and post one singular video a month on his TikTok about upcoming games which serves as reminder that it isn’t a fan account.

•Allison uses her reach as a Sport player to advertise her clothing line.

^ She she has posts with lines such as casual wear, athletic wear, business casual/proffesional wear, and normalizes business making plus size clothes.

^^ she makes a few different lines for her friends and never posts them or sells them to the public. This includes armbands for Andrew, bandanas for Neil, one of a kind pride outfits for all the gay bitches on the team (let’s be real they’re all fruity), fox themed shirts for casual wear (even after they stop playing for the foxes)

•Seth hates social media and doesn’t have any.

^ He MIGHT have another fox run one for him and doesn’t interact at all.

^^ He lets the other foxes post him on their socials but doesn’t want one of his own.

•Rene does a lot of advocacy things on hers.

^ She shares her story about how Christianity and exy helped her.

^^ She doesn’t want to seem like she’s forcing Christianity. She says “having any kind of faith”

•Nicky posts a lot of random shit

^vlogs, funny sports clips, pride stuff. Videos of him and Erik.

^^ He gets the twins in a few and they’re just glaring with such a “I can’t handle you anymore. You should have put me up for adoption /hj” face directed at him and there’s a few comments saying “wait… they’re both making the face. Which is which?”

[venusaria]

Random D.Gray-Man Noah head cannons because im stuck in an overnight shift and im beyond bored

Since the Noah have existed for 7,000 years, they can understand (maybe) every language thats existed in human history, or at least the more commonly spoken language

Tyki speaks Portuguese, and sometimes speaks in Portuguese while speaking english. “Listen here merda *insert more dialogue”. I also head cannon he swears in Portuguese “Filho da puta!”

Road prolly has a cavity wirh the amount of sweets she eats. Its prolly the back tooth

Skinn has a Louisianan accent

Honestly D.Gray-Man characters canonically speak english, i imagine them having accents based off where they are from since their VA’s have American accent (before anyone attacks me i love their english voices i really do-)

Sheril has a gummy smile and you cant rip this head cannon off my cold hands

Jasdevi hates oysters….idk why i head cannon this i just do-

Lulubell is the best ballroom dancer out of all the Noah but because of how reserved she is, she doesn’t dance in front of everyone. (But she prolly did with Mimi before she was killed)

For some reason i like head cannoning Mightra as an older-ish (early 30s) woman, even though their identity is canonically unknown. Honestly i would love another noah thats a woman im desperate-. Like i can just imagine Mightra as like having Lulubell’s personality but more uptight since they are in charge of performing maintenance in the ark. Not like strict but straightforward.

Since wisely is nosy with his mind reading abilities, i can easily imagine the rest of the noah (especially sheril) imagining something explicit or something bizarre just so they can annoy Wisely while hes trying to read their minds. “Jasdevi why are you imagining an akuma dressed as a clown?”

Wrathra is probably gonna be the youngest character since they are gonna reborn at some point, but i like to head cannon that they find wrathra when they are a baby (as in after they are born since wisely can prolly find them?). Sheril will prolly adopt them since he adopts every being in sight-

Tricia knows the Noah’s plans and is an ally to the Earl, and chooses to remain happily marry Sheril in the process to assist them (damn i forgot she existed)

They host game nights. Tyki likes to gamble. He always loses because of wisely cheating with his mind. “pedaço de merda sobrinho.” “Haha get recked”

Bonus: if they were in a modern au i can see Road doing mukbangs with candy. I can honestly see it. Jasdevi would try to be the goth kids (but the family always mistaken them to be emo, they will throw a temper tantrum). Sheril will probably be laughing at minion memes on facebook. Everyone would probably thirst for Tyki on social media while hes the polar opposite in real life (ultimate troll)