#to try and tell people to go against their morals and do something that they know ain’t right to them

[whumpbby]

Hey, let's talk :D

magicorangelove

#the first part I wholeheartedly agree with and would like to see too - no matter how you love someone it is An Adjustment to start#living with someone#after 30+ years living alone and having this image of a person in your mind#and i don’t actually think lsz lived WITH lwj when he was small#first seclusion and then he was 6-7… anyway#the last part i don’t particularly agree with ‘cause i don’t think THOSE are the parts lwj has no idea about or would find surprising#or eye-opening or whatever#the day-to-day struggles on the other hand?…#also i do think he got better with expressing himself by this time…#then I remember that he failed to tell wwx about ayuan#and go…maybe not…..#then i think how that might have been for wwx’s benefit and change my mind again…..

For me, Lan Zhan at some point will start catching up to the moral hangover, but not because he will be surprised by the less savoury parts of his beloved, but because he will start noticing his own willingness to accept them and that can be a scary thing.

(I don't mean that WWX is a bad person - he's actually a really good guy with his heart in the right place, who tries to do a good thing whenever he can. But he also has a checkered past, made some choices that, while understandable, are morally indefensible, and he has serious issues with emotional intimacy and honesty, and a scary penchant for self-sacrifice.)

Until the realtionship started, Lan Wangji's intention towards his Wei Ying was to be The Saviour.

Like, throughought the whole of Sunshot all he tried to do was to Save Him - from the bad war, from the bad cultivation, from the bad sects... Then, he spent over a decade regetting not Saving Him. And then WWX came back and it was saving him from the bad Jiang Cheng. So, for the last 20 or some years, LWJ lived exclusively in the mode of The Saviour. WWX returning had to be like a blessing to him, he finally could play out his greatest fantasy! He got to save his beloved from more than one villain and after all that, he got to kiss him and take him to bed home! Gasp! He got his happy ending! He got to ride of into the sunset and now...

...now what? What now, once LWJ has to start realising that Wei Ying doesn't need a Saviour anymore, and that outside of that role he doesn't really know what to do? Once he has a chance to process, to familiarise himself with Wei Ying the person, he will have to face some moral quandaries he didn't have to face before. He was raised in a certain way and, as much as he carries anger towards his sect and the rules he was raised in, he was still raised with certain kind of morality that, given his character, I don't see him discarding easily or without a solid reason.

Until now the reason was his role of the Saviour that subsumed everything else. But since he doesn't have to be that anymore, what came he his behind now?

Uncritical love?

I don't think Wei Wuxian is someone who can be loved uncritically - for his own good. As much as everyone would want that for themselves in the imaginary world, lack of boundaries in a relationship harms both sides. WWX is a person that will strain against every lead put on him - and if he can't feel one, he will keep desperately pushing further and further until he feels something holding him back.

That's how he lived his first life - notice, he was always fighting for the attention of the people who were providing him with barriers. He wasn't bothering Lan Xichen in Gusu (arguably evenore handsome than Wangji) - he was exclusively pissing off Wangji and Lan Qiren. He wasn't bothering JFM, trying to discover his boundaries - he was annoying the shit out of JC and almost taunting Madame Yu. Almost, as if he needed people who would try to limit him in some way. To feel safe, maybe? To feel noticed?

He was always noticed and it never seemed enough. What can Lan Zhan do that a whole Jiang sect wasn't enough to do for their super star? Love him? As if he wasn't loved before???

So, like, if Lan Zhan is not a Saviour, that means Wei Ying isn't the damsell - as much as he likes to play up being one. He's not the princess in need of a knight. He's not perfect. Not innocent - I think Wei Wuxian would at some point become desperate for Lan Zhan to know that he's not perfect, ecause for how long can you stand to be placed on a pedestal you feel you don't feel you deserve to stand on?

The whole "between us there's no need for thank yous and sorrys" is such a deep quote - as long as you're 15 and never had a meaningful relationship of any kind. Because thank yous and sorrys are a part of normal human communication, and that communication is needed to maintain any sort of relationship - and here we have two characters obscenly bad at communicating and emotional honesty, and once you take even that simple scaffold away...

Yeah, this won't be smooth sailing for either of them.

I'd really love to read a fic where a year past the canon ends, Lan Zhan starts to realise that his dreamed-up perfect relationship with Wei Ying isn't what he imagined it to be.

That what he got is actually a wholeass person with imperfections that will get annoying after a while, with opinions that he doesn't agree with and behaviours he's not prepared to just accept. A human person that will lie to keep him happy, that will leave when any possibility of strife approaches, that sometimes doesn't want to have sex - or that sex isn't a cure-all for their problems. That whatever Jiang Cheng experienced growing up with Wei Wuxian will fall on Wangji too, because love doesn't change you as a person in 100%, sorry.

Because that's what think will be a hurdle for him - he never was in a relationship. He never even had real human friends. Fuck, he doesn't seem to have acquaintances. All he ever had was a made-up image of a boy he knew shortly in his late teens and a sect where he was the lauded Young Master everyone respected. He can't stoically stand a kid talking back to him without a silencing spell and has difficulty expressing the most basic things in useful words. For all the soulmate talk, he didn't even know the boy he dreamed building a life with - that Wei Wuxian never existed outside of Wangji's limited glimpses of him and a lot of forgiving assumption.

Like, when will it hit him that Wei Ying is actually a complex human being that isn't just for him to care about and love, and that he himself isn't happy with some things? Will he one night wake up in cold sweat when he finally understands that the man sleeping next to him orchestrated a horiffic surgery on himself and his brother, and never indicated that he regrets it and wouldn't do it again? That the man sleeping next to him kinda-sorta just looked on as people were murdered in front of him, and didn't really have any strong opinion about being brought back via human sacrifice?

Like, discarding stiff and stifling Lan rules after being burned by them is one thing, but this is a moral quandary that goes way beyond that.

[area51-escapee]

I really, really hate the fact that people are using minorities within the U.S. to try and guilt people into voting for Biden. I hate that when you criticize him or just state you won’t vote for him people always want to come back with “oh so you hate minorities? You hate transgender people? You think kids belong in cages?????”. Don’t you fucking dare use the suffering of actual people to try and garner support for that man, you don’t get to just ignore that immigrants are still being detained at the border, that he decided to continue with the fucking wall, that immigrants, even U.S. born Latinos are still being treated as fucking criminals. You don’t get to ignore that he’s done nothing to protect the transgender community from absolutely vile transphobic laws, you don’t get to ignore the suffering of these communities until it’s suddenly convenient for you. Police brutality has only gotten worse, nobody can afford to fucking live, Covid is still killing and disabling people every fucking day, you can’t just ignore these things because Biden is president. Nobody thinks Trump is going to be “better”, but we recognize that Biden is fucking wretched both domestically and internationally, we recognize that things are already so fucking bad it’s going to be real hard to make anything worse, sometimes it feels like the only thing that’ll end up changing if Trump wins the election is that you fuckers will suddenly speak up about all these issues again just because you can blame it solely on Trump now.

[soshinysochrome]

Pre-cut fruit/veggies as an accommodation

I'm going to go on a rant that's been building up for a long time but needs to be said.

I just watched a video from How To ADHD where they finally articulated what I've been trying to explain to people for a long time; that buying pre-cut fruit and veggies is an accommodation.

Because holy shit, do people get angry at people who buy things pre-cut, like it's some kind of moral failing deserving of the vitriol and abuse that it gets. And it always comes complete with people smugly declaring that they take the time to cut their fruit and veg themselves, like somehow that makes them better than people who don't.

Lets get something absolutely clear.

Yes, we know it would be cheaper to buy produce and cut it up ourselves. Yes, we know that the added packaging is more wasteful. And we know that other people are judging us for it.

But here's the thing, starting with the fact that "taking the easy way" is not a moral failing:

Pre-cut produce is an accommodation.

I have ADHD, depression and seasonal affective disorder (seasonal depression). One of these by themselves makes taking care of myself difficult enough, but very rarely am I battling just one of these conditions at a time. And when it comes to cooking or preparing food, my options are very often either to spend a bit more to buy pre-cut fruit or veg, or not eat fruit/veg at all. Because if I buy produce I have to prep myself, at least one of three things will happen: 1) I'm going to forget it exists until it starts to make the fridge stink and it has to be thrown away. 2) I'm going to see it every time I open the fridge, feel bad that I can't bring myself to prepare it, worsening my executive dysfunction and depression, and making it even less likely I ever will prepare it. 3) I'm going to buy it, put it in my fridge, remember that it's there and beat myself up until it expires for being unable to bring myself to prepare it.

When people rail against those who buy pre-cut, what those of us who rely on it hear is that you don't think we deserve to eat healthily because we can't do it ourselves. Which sounds about as absurd as telling someone with glasses that they don't deserve to wear those glasses because they can't see without them.

Rant over. Leave people who buy pre-cut alone.

[suhkusa]

THE KISS BET.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Your friends bet you to kiss Katsuki Bakugou. Fortunately for you, they’re offering you $500 for it. Unfortunately for you, the two of you absolutely hate each other.

CW. third year, angst to fluff, light hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mature humor, feelings, language

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. enjoy :3

You and your group of friends had a running gig. Bets. 

The group would bet one person to do something, on a scale from normal to outrageous, and that person’s turn wouldn’t end until they complete that bet. Of course, depending on how crazy the bet is, everyone would put in some amount of money. 

The most you’d gotten was $100 total from accepting a date from creep in the business class. Worst date of your life, but Jirou felt bad so she gave you an extra $50. 

As the lot of you gather around the campfire, everyone offers up their money to Mina who had just done her bet to put laxatives in Kirishima’s drink. There were a lot of questions about the morality of it, but you ignored it and gave her a crisp $20. 

“Y/N~ it’s your turn!” Ochako gleed. 

You roll your eyes, “I feel like I just did my other bet, which by the way was shit,” the girls laugh at your words. “I feel like all of you get the easier ones,”

“Easy? I had to kiss Monoma, do you know how hard that was? He knows I’m lesbian so imagine how hard that was for me to convince him,” Yaoyorozu sighs with a palm to her face.

“Oh, whatever,” Mina says with a clap of her hands, “You want a hard one, Y/N?”

“I mean that’s the whole point of paying each other to do bets, they’re supposed to be hard,” 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Mina smirks before standing up and pointing at you. 

“I bet you $100,” your ears perk up.

“-to kiss–,” your eyes widen but listen nonetheless.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” your world falls apart.

“Mina, no,” 

“Y/N, yes,” she jumps up and down, “It’s too late, I already said it,”

All the other girls are hooting and hollering, but you just sit there in silence as you stare at the flames. Are you really going to try this?

As you consider your options the other girls start placing their bet offerings.

“$75 from me,” Tsuyu calls out.

Then from Hagakure, “$50,”

“$150,” from none other than Yaoyorozu. 

“I guess I’ll put in $80,” Jirou smiles at your misery.

“Hmm, I’ll even it out with $45, so $500 flat for you, Y/N,” Ochako smiles.

$500?!? You’d be outright stupid to deny such a big amount of money. But you’d even stupider to think Katsuki Bakugou would kiss you of all people. 

“I think that’s impossible,” you whine as the other girls poke fun at you.

“I guess only time will tell,” Mina grabs your hands and smiles, “Good luck, Y/N,”

—

You can hear the rambunctiousness of your class before you walk in. When you walk through the doors, your eyes scan the class before your eyes lock in on Katsuki Bakugou. You groan with a roll of your eyes before stomping your way towards him. 

“Hey, Katsuki,” you stare down at him, “You want to do me a favor,”

“For you? I rather eat shit,” he grumbles as he meets your gaze.

“You’re a freak,” you already knew this was going to be hard, “Please,”

“Mm, depends, what’s in it for me?” 

“I guess you’ll find out,” you say. “Kiss me,”

It feels like the class goes silent as the two of you continue to just stare at each other. He opens his mouth then closes it. 

“You– The fuck?” His eyes are scattering as the words continue to process through his mind, “What a weirdo, hell no,” then he’s pushing himself out of his seat and making his way to the door.

“You know class starts in 5 minutes right?” you call to him.

“Fuck off,” he grunts as he shuts the door behind him.

Yep, definitely hard. 

—

The next time you bother Bakugou for a kiss is when the two of you are paired up for combat training. Much against his will. 

“Katsuki~” you call out as you dodge another blow from him. “You can’t avoid me forever,”

“Yes-” another explosion, “I can,”

You go on the offense as you continue, “Just a peck, please. I’m a good kisser, I promise,” 

“You’re shit,” he’s grumbling between dodges of your attacks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you send him a wink before getting a hit on him. 

Bakugou groans, about to send another remark, when the training ends with a blow of a whistle.

The two of you meet eyes one last time, “Think it over, kay?” you smile before walking away.

—

Knock, knock. 

You stand at Bakugou’s door.

“Go away, perv,”

“Aw, how did you know it was me? You missed me?”

“I can just tell by the stench,” 

You laugh a little at his words, “Please, let me explain to you and maybe you’ll reconsider,” 

You can hear footsteps, and you smile. When he opens the door he’s adorned in his classic black tank and some sweats.

“You should put some clothes on, perv,” you mock. “Anyways, it was a bet from my friends and there’s $500 on the line, so if you would just–”

“I don’t kiss just anyone, princess,” the nickname causes you to fluster, but you shake it off as he continues, “You gotta earn it,”

He’s got a stupid smirk on his face, and you didn’t even realize it but he’s definitely leaning closer to you. It’s sending butterflies– well maybe more like moths– into your stomach. 

“What the– You’re definitely the pervert. I’m just going to ask to call it off,” you fake gag, “Later, loser,” 

“You’ll be back, nerd,”

You internally groan as you hear him shut the door, ignoring the intense heartbeat in your chest.

—

“No,” Mina says.

“What?! I told you it’s impossible,” you argue, all of your friends on the other side of the argument. 

“No it’s not, he said you had to earn it right?” Mina retorts, “So obviously there’s a way, you’re just stubborn,”

“You’re really not asking me to… You guys are crazy. Please, please, I’ll take anyone else, anything else,” 

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s the rules,” Tsuyu looks at you with pity.

“He hates me and I hate him! That’s all there is to it. It’s not going to happen,”

“Why do you guys even hate each other? It’s our third year, get over it already,” Jirou teases. 

“Because he’s a dick and I refuse to let him walk all over me! I just cursed him out one time for calling me weak. He’s the one who holds grudges because of his fragile, little heart,” 

“You should’ve known he’d hold that against you, but I honestly doubt he hates you because of that,” Mina says. “He probably thought you looked hot,” she laughs.

Heat rushes to the tips of your eyes, “Whatever, all of you are weirdos. But anyways-”

“No, Y/N,” Mina states, end of subject.

“You all just want me to kill myself,” you groan as you sink into the couch. “Whatever, but I’m going to force all of you to double your offering if I actually do this shit,”

The girls cheer. You cry inside. Anything for money, you guess.

—

It seems like the universe heard about the predicament you were in, because it felt like you were suddenly around him more often ever since the bet had been set.

“You know, I don’t want to be on patrol with you either,” you grumble, kicking at rocks as the two of you walk up and down the roads of the dorms.

“Glad we agree,”

Silence washes over you both. 

“Why don’t you want to kiss me? Am I ugly or something?” you ask, but it definitely comes off sadder than you intend.

“Don’t get all insecure because you don’t get a stupid kiss,” he looks the opposite direction of yours, “You know damn well you’re not ugly, so don’t piss me off,” 

He had a strange way of saying stuff.

“Aw, you love me, don’t you?” you tease, poking at his arm.

“Ah you dumbass, pay attention,” you snap back into place with a laugh, “‘M just saying you’re better looking than some of these extras,” 

You don’t know what to say in response to his words. Because they were surprisingly very sweet. 

Realizing he had said too much, he changes the subject. “Let’s go this way,”

You follow him with a nod.

There was definitely a certain type of tension lingering that the two of you walked in near silence for the rest of the patrol. 

You definitely were not repeating back his words in your head over and over again for the rest of the patrol. And Katsuki Bakugou was definitely not turning red because of what he said earlier. Definitely not. 

—

After that patrol, things seemed to sort of shift between the two of you. And to say it was scary was an understatement. 

Conversations wouldn’t always start off with the two of you insulting or cursing each other out. There’d be a hey or hello. If you guys saw each other in passing, he’d greet you with a nod of his head. Him being anything but passive aggressive towards you was terrifying because it was so not him. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out to you, you groan as you put your pencil down.

“I’m studying, what do you want, Katsuki?” 

“Come with me to the movies after school today,” it’s not really a question, more like a command. 

You put your hands to your mouth in fake(?) excitement, “You’re asking me on a date?! So kind, Katsuki,” 

“It’s not a date, idiot. I’m going with Ei and Denki later, they’re bringing Jirou and Mina. They were teasing me for not bringing anyone, so come,”

“If I don’t?” you muse.

“Be there or be square, nerd,” he doesn’t take your bait, but you can tell he’d prefer it if you go. He walks away before you can respond. 

Well, you guess you have plans later.

;;;

You meet up with the lot of them at the allotted time. The group walks together, and you thank God your friends have a questionable taste in men so you wouldn’t be stuck with some randos. But you also have half a mind to curse them out for leaving you to fend for yourself when you all arrive at the theater. 

They left you with no choice but to sit with Bakugou. Part of you really hates it, but not as much as you hate the rate at which your heart beats. 

For the most part, the two of you just sit there in awkwardness. The other couples indulge in that lovey dovey shit, and it makes you feel out of place. You zone out and get into your head. Was there a motive in asking you to come out here? He could’ve invited like… Midoriya… or Ochako… Or anyone, really. But, you? Does he like you? Or were you his last option to invite? Your head hurts from overthinking.

Your hand rests in your lap, picking at the material of your pants. At least that’s what it was doing. Until it happened. 

From the corner of your eye, you watch as Bakugou slid his hand into yours. His fingers finding a comfortable place between your own. You release a deep breath when you realize you were holding your breath. Is he out of his fucking mind?

Despite your efforts to try and justify how much you absolutely hate it. You didn’t even try to stop him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t let his hand go. And even as the movie ended, you actually felt sad when he slid his hand away. 

The cool air of the night shocked you a bit when all of you made it outside. 

“We were thinking of grabbing a bite, did you guys want to come?” Mina exclaims. 

“Ooh, that sounds good, are you down, Jirou?”

“Sure, and you guys?” they all look at you.

“I- I have a stomach ache… Butter fucks with my stomach really bad,” the excuse is kind of weak, but still holds up as they all nod in understanding. 

“I can walk you to the dorm,” Bakugou offers, and you don’t really give him a yes or no, he just follows you.

Kirishima and Mina whistle and holler as the two of you part ways with the rest of them. 

Part of you regrets making up some stupid lie to go home. Because this was way more awkward than getting free pizza. 

The two of you are right by each other as you walk in silence towards the dorm. You wait. And wait. Wait for him to bring it up. Why did he do that? Why did he grab your hand? Was it all a front?

Why is he treating you so well?

Even as he drops you off at your room, he says nothing. Just a simple “Goodnight,” before he’s making his way to the elevator.

What an asshole.

—

So you take the initiative. The initiative in ignoring him. You weren’t some casual fling. Fuck the bet, fuck him.

When you saw him making his way towards you, you were quick to get up and rush out of the classroom. When he nodded your directions in passing, it was easy to just walk past and not acknowledge him. Whatever there was between you and him, was gone. Whatever “it” was, exactly. 

But you were okay. You guess. You were down $500 or $1000, but whatever. That game was bullshit anyways. You always got the worst bets. You kind of felt bad that you were the end of it, though. 

It was easy to avoid him. That’s what you thought. At least until one week later, you found yourself cornered by your dorm room with nowhere to go.

“What the fuck is up with you?” he’s angry, you’d be stupid if you thought otherwise.

You cross your arms and avoid his intense gaze, “Whatever do you mean?” 

He’s getting closer, and a tiny, like miniscule, part of you finds angry-him hot. “You know what the hell I mean, you’ve been avoiding me,” 

“Nuh uh,” you retort, still avoiding the subject at hand. “I’ve just been busy, sorry,”

“Like hell, Racoon Eyes said you’ve been in your dorm room everyday, so try again, asshat,”

Fucking Mina.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you poke at his chest, “Now get out of my way before I beat your ass,”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he’s smiling with mockery.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like to be touched by me, you little virgin,” you inspect your nails in nonchalance, “Too bad, so sad, now move,”

“No, not until you answer me,” he’s a bit more serious now, you can sense it in his tone. 

You groan, “Fine, not until you answer me, though. Why the fuck did you hold my hand and act like it didn’t happen? Am I like a joke to you?”

He straightens up and his eyes widen. He looks to the side, then back at you.

“You’re fuckin’ smart, why don’t you take a guess?”

“You’re not a baby, why don’t you use your words?” 

You got him there.

“Maybe ‘cuz I like you, or something, idiot,”

You laugh. Laugh. Because he really thought you’d believe a stupid joke like that.

“You’re funny, but seriously, why did–”

A kiss. Katsuki Bakugou has always been known for his speed and his wit. But now you see it more than ever. As he steals a kiss from you. It happens faster than you’re able to even realize you’re leaning into it. 

When the two of you part, it’s tense again. You don’t know if you should say something but he takes that choice from you.

“You think that was funny?” he asks.

“Well- no, but–”

“No buts, that’s that,”

“I didn’t even say I like you back! What if I didn’t-”

“Oh, so you do?” you jump up in realization you fumbled your words. “Good to know, princess,”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. How was I supposed to know you liked me? You’re such an asshole, you know?”

“Really? Because this asshole just got you some cash,” he laughs referring to the bet, “But y’know, I don’t let just anyone call me Katsuki,”

You grit your teeth before throwing a punch at his arm, “Annoying! Annoying, so annoying,” 

Another hearty laugh escapes from his lips as he pulls you into a hug. You didn’t even know Bakugou gave hugs. But you don’t mind it. 

“You’re such a pervert, I bet you’ve been looking forward to that kiss,” he teases.

“Yeah? Well you’re a pervert for even kissing me in the first place,”

—

YOU: pay up bitches

YOU: i’m talking double btw

[164 new notifications]

You were rich and in love. What more could you ask for?

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[foone]

Tumblr crashed and killed my post and I'm too lazy to go find what I was reblogging, but:

You need to understand that there is a type of right-wing person who is (relatively) sex positive.

You need to understand this because it explains some "contradictions" but more importantly so that you won't assume someone isn't wildly right wing just because they're sex-positive. These people still have horribly opinions on a lot of things, including sexual ones. They just don't think it's Inherently Wrong to do "weird stuff" in the bedroom.

I always describe this viewpoint as "it's okay to get freaky, but don't be a freak".

They're making a distinction between things you DO and things you ARE. They hate the latter, and think the former is fine.

This is a big part of why you get "confusing" things like right-wingers who are against trans people but those same people might enjoy crossdressing during sex. They're fine with wearing girls clothes while they get pegged, but don't think you should be allowed to go by she/her in the workplace if you're AMAB. Crossdressing is a thing you do. Being trans is something you are.

And the post I was trying to reply to was about swingers disliking polyamorous people: it's the same thing. Swinging is a thing you do: they're having freaky sex. What's wrong with that?

But polyamory? Having multiple partners at the same time, even when you're not fucking at the moment? That sounds like something you are.

Basically it seems to be the worldview of people who are sex-positive (to an extent! I don't want to overstate their positivity) in their personal life, but are against "the decay of society".

They're basically conservatives nostalgic for an imagined world where everyone has 1950s social roles in public, but can get up to whatever weird sex stuff they want behind closed doors.

I don't know how much this kind of few point is due to libertarian influence on these kinds of right wingers (where they've internalized the "the government shouldn't tell me what to do" part of the ideology, but still think "the government should tell those weirdos to get cut it out" is fine), or how much this is because of the rise of 4chan as an alt-right meeting spot, and that site was (and still is) partially a porn site.

It's slightly hard to argue that all sex besides married missionary for procreation is immoral when you're one click away from threads full of anal-toy-howtos and pregnant "dickgirl" hentai. (Not that they don't try, sometimes)

Just keep the fact that these people exist in mind: it'll better explain some of the strange opinions you sometimes see online.

It's probably also a major driving force behind Bidoof's law. They can easily argue against something innocuous like polyamory or trans people while filling their own timeline to with images of trans orgies, because they think Doing Sex Stuff is morally neutral, but Being Stuff is inherently wrong. You can cross dress or swing, that's fine, whatever gets your rocks off. But you can't be trans or be poly. That's wrong, apparently.

(This is probably also South Park's fault but I'm not an expert on that show so I'll not try to explain)

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Calling Out Racists? Help!"

(shout out to the situation sender who's chosen to remain anonymous!)

NOTE: People of color, if you feel that your efforts would be in vain or cause more pain than it's worth, I fully respect not doing it. I've been there, and tbh I usually don't. But white netizens, I expect boots on the ground. Racism festers when no one does anything about it.

So, it's finally happened! You've come face to face with antiblackness in your fandom space. You never thought it could be this bad! Naturally YOU don't condone this behavior, so you take steps to remove yourself from this person.

However! Your friends and other fans are still happily sharing from someone that you KNOW is capable of this. Would they still be comfortable knowing they're yapping amongst racists? And then you wonder- should I tell everyone about them? I mean, surely everyone should know?

Thus we've come to the decision:

The Callout

In my honest opinion, callouts are morally neutral. When used to reveal consistent harmful beliefs, intentions, and behaviors to other people, usually of marginalized identities, I think they're critical. Our safety and humanity matters far more than someone's internet fame. If I can't stop someone from being a racist, I at least don't want their vitriol on my dash, and I ALSO don't want people thinking I agree! Racism shouldn't be tolerated at all, but unfortunately, many an antiblack racist has a popular following and will not be removed. Anything less overt than a slur like the example above is more often than not, not a dealbreaker for many.

On the other hand, when it is maliciously weaponized to drag someone down on nothing but hearsay and rumor, it can be devastating. It has often been used as retaliation against those very same marginalized peoples to shut down discussions of racism and other forms of bigotry. In my opinion, you should not do these sorts of things when you don't have any solid proof or an actual education on what you're talking about. Period.

I say that all to say, be intentional. Use your discernment and some critical thinking.

How Ice Deals With It

Let's say you see something that concerns you. First, you need to pay attention to if other Black fans have noted this person's behavior. Has it been previously noticed, have they seen dogwhistles you've completely missed? Keep in mind as well, antiblackness does not have to come from a white person. Don't let "I'm brown" fool you.

If you're confident: confront the person on the particular issue you've noticed.

‼️‼️‼️ For the maintenance of your mental health, you CANNOT go into this expecting to change someone's mind and behavior. If you do, 9/10 you will face demoralization. You cannot walk into these thinking they care. Most people don't, and will deny the harm of their behavior. It sucks, but it's the truth. Change your perspective. The only goal you need to have is pointing out the harm done, so that this person loses the excuse to be racist out of "ignorance". Once you've spoken up, ball's now in their court.

Confrontation doesn't have to be negative! It can be as simple as "hey, what you said was not okay, here's why, and I hope that you can learn from this to do better for yourself and for your fans." Simple, to the point.

‼️Keep in mind, from Fans of Color: the private confrontation is a sign that we're trying to give you a chance to do right. Everyone's not going to receive that grace, nor do I expect every fan of color to offer it. It might just be up with you and your racism that day. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I would take the chance if offered.‼️

We're going to go two routes here.

1) It works

If it works, then what should come next is 1) a full acknowledgment of the violence and harm, 2) visible steps to ameliorate that harm, and 3) an apology to those harmed.

It doesn't have to be a complex apology (unless the situation itself was that large). But it has to be genuine and the change needs to be seen.

Very often you'll see apologies for antiblackness... To white fans. You cannot apologize for your actions to people who were not harmed by them, because they are not the ones with the right to accept the apology!!!! It's not a real apology. They've just covered for being exposed, is all. Be willing to hold each other accountable!

2) It doesn't work

This might still happen after the "it works", btw! Some people genuinely just want the appearance of progressiveness.

Here's where it gets gritty and you'll experience the most discomfort, I'm just being honest:

They might fucking suck!

They might suck, they might make it a point to share with their followers that you suck, and those same followers might also suck! You know how they sound? Like those people who fought for rapist Brock Turner because "he had a good future and this shouldn't ruin it". Yeah.

Recognize that this backlash you may experience from strangers is not coming just from their need to be entertained, but from a realization that if their fave is antiblack and they agree, then THEY are being antiblack too.

That acute pain you're feeling from this effort- you're now feeling a part of the chronic pain that is being a Black fan! And if you're white, you just temporarily sacrificed your whiteness to defend what was right, and now you are seeing a piece what that whiteness shields you from. Idk how else to put it.

Now what?

Well first, this shouldn't make you go "oh well there's no point in fighting racism bc they're so mean." Why do you want to identify with the people who just acted like that lmao. Antiracism is hard, but the right thing isn't always easy. Stand up and dust yourself off, soldier.

Take the steps to protect yourself. That might be a break from socials to decompress. Block people as necessary, use the tag blocker thing.

Recognize that you are not in the wrong for wanting this harm to be accounted for. If this person didn't want to be seen as a willful racist, they should have chosen to do better. They didn't want to, they chose to triple down on their racism, which they are now aware of doing! They just don't care. And that's not within your control. They wanna be a racist, let them be treated like one!

"Curate your space" as they say, and recognize that antiblackness is going to have you potentially removing folks you thought were cool left and right. You might see some people close to you show their true colors. It's time to make some tough personal decisions. I can't walk you through that. But I don't want to be around people who treat antiblackness with apathy, because birds of a feather... 👀

I obviously didn't cover every single scenario here. And this is only *my* way of dealing with these things (if I do at all, anymore). Some folks may go about it differently. But yeah, in summary, go in to point the racism out, and don't let the response determine your self value. 👍🏾

[violenteconomics]

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

^

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request batboys learn of reader's fake death, she is on a mission and they find her.

Reader can be read as gn or whoever you see fit.

Dick

‘Is that you?’ Dick asks softly as he neared you.

‘No.’ You replied in hopes that he’d leave but you knew deep down that he wouldn’t, not if leaving meant leaving you behind also. Not the way you chose to erase yourself out of the picture for this stupid suicide mission.

Dick on the other hand was hellbent to not loose you again, the house you both built wasn’t a home if you weren’t in it to share it with him and Hayley, the poor dog was still fast sleeping on your side of the bed before Dick left for his nightly patrol; Hayley missed you very much and would whimper when she realises that your scent was slowly fading away.

It hurt Dick more then he liked to admit, and he tried to suppress it for as long as he could but he would often find himself trying to look for you in other people, other things but it always ended with him looking at the pictures of the two of you on the wall and feeling nothing but cold. Everything felt out of place without you but Dick would always try to act as though he was coping better then he was behind closed doors doors, clutching at the clothes you’ll never wear again as he silently sobs into the fabric.

Now here you were stood before him in what people would call as pure coincidence or luck because anyone would give anything to see their lost ones again, absolutely anything, even if it was by morally questionable means and Dick can understand the reason why that might be.

‘I- I wish I could tell you but I can’t.’ You replied, not wanting to put Dick in danger because of the dangerous people you’ve wronged.

‘Why not?’ Dick asked, worried that something had happened when he wasn’t nearby to help.

‘It doesn’t concern you.’ You told him as you tried to make distance but Dick was quick to close it. ‘It does concern me if it involves you.’ He says lowly, gently reaching out to hold your face to make sure this was real and not a dream and when you leaned into his touch, eyes closed shut Dick lets out a relieved sigh as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. ‘So please, don’t make me loose you again. let me help.’ He whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

Now you really couldn’t reject his help, he made it impossible just like how he made it impossible for you not to fall in love with him all over again.

Tim

Didn’t know what to expect from what he was seeing.

He had heard that there was someone of your stature going about town during the night but he wasn’t one to believe it until he’s seen it with his own eyes. So when he did catch of glimpse of you or someone pretending to be you, he didn’t know what to do, he was brought back to where he was when he found out about your supposed death; helpless and confused as to how such a thing could happen.

It wasn’t until your eyes met his did Tim feel his blood go cold from how dull and borderline dead your eyes looked when glaring right at him. There was a flash of familiarity but that was gone before Tim could blink, something was wrong, very wrong but he didn’t know what exactly.

You weren’t…well you.

Now Tim did have dreams about what he’d do if you were to be magically reanimated, brought back to life but those were dreams for a reason, a alternative reality that didn’t abide to realism or the more likeliest of outcomes; this was reality and reality wasn’t pretty and is often disappointing on most accounts.

So Tim stood there, frozen as you made a quick exit, much to the confusion of his siblings -Dick and Damian- who knew how hard your death had struck Tim, they didn’t need to be told how difficult it must’ve been to see your dead partner somehow alive again.

‘Are you okay?’ Dick asks.

‘Somethings wrong.’ Tim said. ‘Why would they feel the need to fake their own death and not tell me about it beforehand?’ He asks himself.

‘Only if someone powerful wanted you dead.’ Damian suggested. ‘What other reason is there besides that one?’

‘If that’s truly is the case,’ Tim began as he looked between Dick and Damian, ‘then why reappear after only a week? It’d be common sense to stay low for far longer until the smoke clears, unless...’

Dick then places a hand on Tim’s shoulder. ‘Looks like we’ve got work to do.’

Tim wasn’t certain what he would do if you ever did come back, but now it seems as though he did know; to save you from whatever has been nipping at your heels.

Jason

Wasn’t sure whether or not the sleepless nights had finally caught up to him ever since your passing, spending them staring at the door to your shared bedroom as though you’d magically walk through it with a smile, telling him that everything that had happened was just a nightmare before kissing him on the forehead and cuddling into his side to fall asleep.

However Jason had pinched his skin that many times to know well enough that was all a fallacy created by his own mind because he didn’t want you seeing the man he’d become from whether afterlife you resided in.

So when he spotted sow thing he believes looked a lot like your silhouette, his body followed after it, much like it did whenever things pertaining to you sparked that sense of familiarity within him, that sense of home and belonging. However this lack of subtly on his end didn’t end up well as he was soon enough laid flat out on his back as your masked face hovered over his.

‘Why were you following me?’ You asked through gritted teeth.

‘I thought you were dead.’ He replied In disbelief.

‘That was the plan until you ruined it.’ You grunted as you pulled him up to his feet, ‘you weren’t followed were you?’ You asked as your eyes shifted from shadow to shadow.

‘No, listen sweetheart-‘ Jason tried to speak but you sharply shushed him. ‘What’s going on, you can tell me.’ He now whispers and you sigh, finding it hard to exist within the same space as Jason without hugging him to death, but you couldn’t risk dragging him into your troubles.

‘I can’t.’ You tell him, knowing that there was a heartbroken expression behind that red helmet of his, ‘and even if I can all I would be allowed to say is that some bad people are after me.’ Jason’s shoulders tensed at this.

‘Why did you say anything earlier.’ He asked, he was holding back from exploding because had this been brought up earlier then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to be subjected to witnessing your ‘death.’ ‘I could’ve helped you out-‘

‘And risk you becoming their next target? Not thanks Jason I already lost you once I’m not doing it again.’ You tell him firmly but he wasn’t having it, not after what you put him through. ‘And I thought I lost you or has that not ever come to mind.’ He bites back with the sharpness of someone who was deeply hurt by the actions of someone who he loved more than life.

‘Jason.’ You tried to say but you knew him better then most, once his mind had been made up there was little chance to change it.

‘No. I’m going to help you get out of this mess, either you want me to or not, this is my war now.’ Jason tells you as he marched ahead. You sighed as you followed after him.

This was going to be a long night.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[thehmn]

It might simply be that I don’t frequent ADHD forums enough but I haven’t seen a whole lot of talk about learned social withdrawal.

As a child I made friends left and right but as we all turned into self-conscious teenagers it slowly became more and more difficult for me. Plain and simple, other people thought I was weird. For some reason I never got bullied which I think is related to something my teachers kept telling my parents “She’s such a sweet, bright child and we can tell she’s not malicious or trying to be disruptive on purpose but we can’t teach her anything”

Basically people couldn’t figure me out. I had good social skills with both children and adults, I had a good moral compass, i felt compassion and empathy for others and was willing to go against my friends if I felt they were being bullies, I taught myself English and my drawings showed good observation skills. Because of all that it was decided I should start school a year sooner than most kids and my parents were very proud. Unfortunately that’s probably one of the main reasons why I was never diagnosed with raging ADHD as a child. People soon realized I didn’t do well in a school setting but assumed it was because I “wasn’t done playing” and my ADHD symptoms were interpreted as childishness.

So as I got older my classmates started to distance themselves from me. They were always kind and friendly but they didn’t know how to deal with me and ever since then people have always been worryingly comfortable with calling me weird to my face. I get the impression it’s because they think it’s a choice on my part. To them I’m clearly of “normal intelligence” so I must be acting like this on purpose and my parents would repeatedly tell me to “just act normal” as a child when I told them I was struggling to make friends. I tried so damn hard but kept failing. I knew something had to be different about me and when I first heard about ADHD I thought “That’s me! That’s how I feel!” but my parents said that was impossible because I wasn’t hyperactive.

Because nobody wanted to help me I eventually learned to just stop trying to make friends and keep to myself. I was so tired of being told by friendly, well-meaning people that I was so weird and quirky and unique only for them to distance themselves once they realized it was permanent and not something I could turn on and off for parties. I always enjoyed being alone so it wasn’t a huge loss but it did feel incredibly lonely at times.

Things got a lot better when I became an adult, mostly because adults are generally more chill than teens so my ADHD behavior isn’t as embarrassing to them and ironically they’re often surprised to learn I don’t make friends easily. Unfortunately I learned to be withdrawn in my formative years so new friends are still a rarity. Before I really sat down and put my past into context I even started to wonder if I had autism despite not connecting with anything autistic people said about their experiences. I went as far as to be tested but wasn’t surprised when the diagnosis was negative because of course it was, I kinda already knew that. I was just looking for an explanation.

So while there can be overlap between ADHD and autism (I have just such a friend) my experience is also that oftentimes people with ADHD simply learn to stay away from social situations and entertain ourselves which ends up looking like autism to outsiders.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

What about a sub!villain who tries to play the part of the suave, dominant villain cause they’re afraid of vulnerability… and an actually dominant hero who sees through it and flips the script. Could it also be spicy please?

Also, your writing is amazing and it makes my day better! Thank you so much for sharing it! I send you hugs!

"You may think you're deceptive. But you are not." The end of the villain's dagger nearly buried its way into their own skin. Although the villain couldn't recall when the hero had gotten a hold of it during the fight, they were quite pleased with the result. (The result being the hero on top of them, still panting from the fight.) "Your effort is quite delightful, though."

The villain cracked a smile.

"Oh, you want to ravage me so bad..."

"Your imagination doesn't even come close to how bad I truly want that," the hero answered.

There was something in their presence that stirred the villain in an exciting way. Was it their body? Their personality? Their morals and their desires? Usually, the villain considered themselves to be talented when it came to reading people and analyzing the relationships they had with them.

For better or worse, it was different with the hero. More confusing. More dangerous.

At this point, the villain was playing with fire - they didn't know exactly what their relationship with the hero was nor where they stood.

"I loathe you for being my only weakness." The hero let the blade dig into the villain's chin until they looked up. "And destroying you would probably bring me some peace."

"Oh." The villain had never heard such a blunt statement coming from the hero. At least not something this personal and...open. It nearly made the villain sick to their stomach how casually the hero had mentioned it.

Slowly, the hand which wasn't holding onto the dagger travelled up the villain's arm until those cursed fingertips found a shaking wrist and grabbed it.

"But what am I without you? What is Orpheus without his muse?"

"You're so charming today..." The villain tried to sound as flirty as they could but their voice was inexplicably trembling.

When had the hero decided to be so horrible and seduce the villain? And why on earth was it working?

"How does that make you feel?" the hero asked, their voice nothing more than a whisper. They freed their index finger from their grip around the villain's wrist and slowly, agonizingly, let it travel upwards. The villain took in a sharp breath, surprised by the hero's actions.

It felt a little too intimate. Nearly immoral.

The villain felt quite stupid for blushing, after all, it was just the hero's finger rubbing against their palm and their breath on the villain's neck.

"I'm..." The villain tried to concentrate but it wasn't that easy anymore. They closed their eyes, close to defeat already. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

Did the hero have to level their weight on the villain's hips? Did they have to say these things? Startle the villain like that? Couldn't they just flirt, try to kill each other and go home after?

Did the hero have to whisper something this close to a confession into the villain's ear?

"How does it feel to be my only weakness?" the hero murmured. Their grip loosened and slowly, their hand began their conquest towards the villain's fingers. "How does it feel to mean so much to me? To occupy my thoughts during the day? And my dreams during the night?"

Hell, the hero was dreaming about them?

"What are you doing...?" Suddenly, the hero let their fingers entwine, squeezing gently and for whatever reason, the villain took in a quick breath.

"I believe we both know you crave a superficial relationship. Something that makes you feel superior and secure. But I can tell you from personal experience that those relationships don't work out in the long run. They will make you feel miserable. They will make you feel worthless. If I want you, I will want you bare. And there is nothing I desire more." Their lips were close to the villain's. "In your own time, of course. You strip. Figuratively and literally, obviously."

"I- You-"

"I am always willing to help, though." The hero smirked lazily and squeezed the villain's hand. "There is no reason to feel ashamed. Or to feel weak. After all, you have me in your hand."

The villain couldn't say anything.

It had started as a normal fight. With the usual flirting.

And now, the villain was actually thinking about opening up to someone. To talk about all their horrible fears and the self-doubt. About all their mistakes and regrets.

This had to be some new weapon or master plan to turn the villain into a good person. Whatever it was, the villain feared they would think about this encounter for the months to come.

"I will keep this, though," the hero announced. They held up the villain's dagger and pushed themselves off the villain. "Everyone needs a memento of their beloved, don't they?"

All the villain could do was stare as the hero blew them a kiss and vanished into the night.

[natasaa13]

Bestfriend Sukuna

Being Sukuna’s best friend was both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you got to see sides of him that others didn’t. You knew the Sukuna who showed up at your apartment at midnight with greasy takeout after a bad day. The Sukuna who secretly loved watching trashy reality TV and would yell at the screen like his life depended on it. The Sukuna who texted you pictures of stray cats he found on campus, captioned with things like, "This one has your attitude."

But then there was the other side of it. The Sukuna everyone else saw. The cocky, arrogant, and ridiculously hot version of him that had people throwing themselves at his feet. You weren’t blind—you knew how good he looked. And as much as you hated to admit it, there were times when you couldn’t stop yourself from staring a little too long at his tattoos or wondering what it would feel like to have his hands on you instead of casually bumping shoulders on your way to class.

Still, he was your best friend, and you weren’t about to risk ruining that.

At least, that was the plan. Until everything changed one night.

It started like any other evening. Sukuna had invited himself over to your apartment under the guise of “helping” you study, though his version of helping involved sprawled out on your couch, flipping through his phone while you tried to focus on your notes.

“You’re useless,” you muttered, glaring at him from your desk.

“Hey, I’m moral support,” Sukuna said with a grin, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “Besides, you’re smart. You don’t need my help.”

“You’re just lazy.”

“And you’re too uptight,” he shot back, sitting up and stretching in a way that made his shirt ride up, exposing a sliver of toned stomach and the edge of his hip tattoo.

You quickly looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “Whatever. Some of us actually care about passing.”

Sukuna chuckled, standing and wandering over to your desk. He leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“You’re stressing too much,” he murmured, his voice low. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax with you hovering,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

But Sukuna didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, plucking the pen from your hand and tossing it onto the desk. His hand brushed against yours, and the simple touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“What’s your deal tonight?” you asked, turning to glare at him.

Sukuna’s smirk faltered, replaced by something more serious. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” he said, his tone softer now. “Avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you lied, crossing your arms.

Sukuna’s gaze darkened, and he leaned in closer, his hands braced on either side of your chair. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?”

Your heart raced as you tried to think of an excuse, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Sukuna tilted his head, his smirk returning as if he’d figured something out.

“Wait a minute,” he said, his voice dropping. “Is this about me?”

Your stomach flipped. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been weird ever since that party last week,” Sukuna said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “When I caught you staring at me.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie,” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. “You think I didn’t notice? The way you looked at me? Like you wanted me to—”

“Shut up,” you snapped, standing abruptly and trying to push past him.

But Sukuna caught your wrist, pulling you back. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous.

“Don’t run away,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me?”

The question hung in the air, and you felt your resolve crumbling under his intense gaze. Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his hand still holding your wrist.

“Sukuna, I…”

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with his free hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His crimson eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might back off. But then his lips crashed into yours, stealing the words from your mouth.

The kiss was everything you’d imagined—hot, intense, and overwhelming in the best way. His hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, tangling in your hair, gripping your waist like he couldn’t get enough of you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with desire. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You have?”

He smirked, his fingers brushing against your lips. “You’re my best friend, but I’m not blind. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you drive me crazy without even trying.”

“Sukuna…”

“Let me show you,” he said, his voice dropping. “Let me show you how much I want you.”

You nodded, too caught up in the moment to think about anything else. 

🩷🩷🩷

Before you could react, Sukuna’s hands were on you, strong and commanding as he gripped your thighs and lifted you effortlessly onto your desk. His lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath with the sheer intensity of his kiss. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, his tongue delving into your mouth in a way that left you dizzy.

“Fuck, you taste good,” Sukuna muttered against your lips, his hands already tugging at your shirt. He pulled it over your head, his lips trailing down your neck as his fingers worked to undo your bra.

Your breath hitched as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. He didn’t linger, though; Sukuna was a man on a mission, and it seemed like his sole purpose was to ruin you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, his hands sliding down to tug at your pants. He yanked them off with an urgency that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving you bare and exposed before him.

Sukuna dropped to his knees, his massive hands gripping your thighs and spreading you wide. His crimson eyes darkened as he took you in, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Fuck, look at you,” he said, his voice rough with hunger. “So wet for me already.”

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was on you. Sukuna devoured you like a man starved, his tongue plunging into your heat with an intensity that left you breathless. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, precise flicks that had your hips bucking against his face.

“Stay still, princess” Sukuna growled, his hands gripping your thighs harder to hold you in place. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The sheer dominance in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault. He sucked on your clit, the sensation so overwhelming that your head fell back, a loud moan escaping your lips.

“Fuck, Sukuna,” you gasped, your legs trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” Sukuna murmured against your skin, his voice muffled. “Let me hear you.”

He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right as his tongue worked your clit. The combination was devastating, and it wasn’t long before you were crying out his name, your body arching off the desk as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

But Sukuna didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you through your orgasm and into another. By the time he finally pulled back, you were trembling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

Sukuna wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking up at you like he was the devil himself. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You barely had time to recover before Sukuna was standing, his hands gripping your hips as he turned you around. He bent you over the desk, his large hands spreading your legs and pressing firmly into the small of your back to deepen your arch.

“Look at you,” Sukuna growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Bent over for me like a good little slut.”

A gasp escaped your lips as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough for you to hear his next words clearly.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn’t have time to respond before Sukuna slid into you, the stretch making your eyes roll back. He gave you no time to adjust, his pace brutal from the start. His hips slammed against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as he fucked you like a man possessed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Sukuna groaned, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. “You feel so fucking good.”

The combination of his rough thrusts, the hand in your hair, and the way he kept pressing into the curve of your back had you seeing stars. Your moans filled the room, each one spurring him on as he drove you closer to the edge.

“You’re mine,” Sukuna growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulled you back against him. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own pleasure.

“Louder,” Sukuna demanded, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

“I’m yours!” you cried, your body trembling as another orgasm ripped through you.

Sukuna groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he came.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, your bodies pressed together as you caught your breath. Then Sukuna straightened, his hand sliding up your back as he pulled you upright.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You turned to look at him, your legs still trembling as he smirked down at you. “And you’re insufferable,” you said, though your tone lacked any real bite.

Sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah, but you love it.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.

[internetscenarios]

tgc brainrot,, new group video AND isaac video was very funny

i am on a roll

ok streamer!reader x all tgc members 😆 no grunk obviously but he will be mentioned

tgc x streamer!reader/ cc! reader ≽ܫ≼

isaac ♡︎

- playing minecraft on stream together 🫶🫶

- american truck simulator oh lord

- he would slightly lean ur door open being like “ru streaming :3?”

- in the old house they used to throw basketballs against the wall of tanners room whenever he was streaming

- so if isaac needed ur attention or u werent replying bcs u were streaming he would do something like that LOL

- would jus pop up in ur streams sometimes, like if ur in a vc by urself he would join and scare u

- if u were streaming and focused sometimes he may just come in ur room and shake u while screaming help

- feel like u would place ur hands on his face if he was too in frame

- bro wants to be faceless forever

- u would defo pop up in his streams like u would walk in ask him something and chat would just spam ur name

- would be in most of his videos

- like that one clip where nick is like “where is grunk when you need him”

- im finding it hold on 😐

makes me giggle sm

- but he would be like “where is y/n when u need them”

“they do NOT care”

yumi ︎ ♡︎

- he would LOVEE having u in his streams

- csgo brainrot with him oh god

- he would be screaming at everyone else then be super calm and nice to u if u mess something up LOL

- beating horror games with him, ur there for moral support

- the other way round as well, if ur trying to beat the horror game hes there for support but also constantly trying to tell u what to do while focusing 😐

- brainrot streams where u just watch daily dose of internet or funny tiktoks

- feel like hes not super into physical touch but if ur getting up from ur seat or something he has a hand on your back or waist to make sure you dont lose balance or stuff

- defo sweet tho like

“ok im going to sleep now”

“okayy goodnight love you”

- chat is screaming

- chat constantly asking you both to do a cute pose or smthn for an edit

- ok this is with all tgc boys but if ur public with ur relationship there are SO many edits

nick ♡︎

- ugh nick my love

- lets say hypothetically u live in bento house (sorry thats the only way i refer it as LOL) and u both have separate setups and he is ALWAYS needing help with something

- that one time he had ZERO mods in his chat and had to have chat to help him

- silly bf

- if ur streaming and he comes home from like tgc house he always comes in the room and says hello

- he is always doing something stupid in the background or just being embarrassing

- that one clip in ltlvc3 where larry was standing in yumis doorway, that is him LOL

- feel like he would jus appear and everyone spamming his name in ur chat

- being in his vlogs omg

- defo has at least a few (so many) vlogs of him spoiling u

- ok but if u were moving to austin he would vlog it all like he did with helping yumi move in

- those cute little “meeting my long distance bf” videos and u run up and hug eachother is u and nick :33

- if u were both open abt the relationship and were just in public people would want pictures with both of u,, not just either of u by urself

- his music is always on ur stream playlist

- and if u mention it hes like “omg hehehe”

- always going places like twitchcon w him

- bento is always on stream,, its not an option for him to not have a couple minutes of fame

- i saw someone do this with sapnap so creds to them but like,, imagine there was an edit on ur stream of a celebrity or someone and u we’re giggling and blushing then nick just calls u being like

“u have a boyfriend you know?”

big t ♡︎

- omfg roblox streams with him and larry

- there would be a cute compilation of you two on the vajeesh channel

is that his channel or no???

- in new isaac video he did the intro pretending to sound like isaac, he would get u to do that or the other way round LOL

- ive said this so many times b4 but if u lived separately from tgc house he would pull up to urs and just pretend ur streaming setup was his LOL

- if ur streaming he always comes and says hello

- imagine u were like a family friendly cc,, he would say the most outta pocket things and u would be lecturing him

- same w yumi omfg

- definitely puts some of ur fav songs on his stream playlist, and u do the same!!

- feel like he picks up little things u do in ur videos/streams

- like if u welcome saying like haii guys he does the same

- if hes streaming and u come into his room he forces u to have screentime bcs u deserve it 🫶🫶

- like nick he is always doing the most embarrassing stuff ever

“tanner its not that i dont wanna see you do a backflip, but last time you broke my entire desk.”

- hell naw

- defo always brings u a drink or food if ur hungry

also isaac defo does that. malewife

- if u got matching clothes ur both showing it off on stream

- matching wolf shirts HELP

larry ♡︎

- ROBLOXX STREAM

- if ur not in the stream or streaming u are sat on his bed with him occasionally telling u to say hello leaning his camera towards u

- god u have to put up with the most random shit ever

STUFF LIKE THIS

- also kendrick and drake being in that title did not age well

- if ur streaming he always asks to request a song 🙏🙏

- if ur ever doing a pretty chill stream he always makes it a bit more chaotic oh my god

- like youll be playing minecraft peacefully and talking to chat then larry comes in blasting music

- silly pictures of you two EVERYWHERE

- worlds most loved couple 🫶🫶

IM SORRY LARRYS IS SO SJORT I CANT THINK OF ANY i got lazy 😢😢

i hope these r cool 😆

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[baptismbaby]

† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 2

mean!ellie x innocent!reader a/n: posted this to ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: toxic!ellie, corruption, virgin!reader, praise, degrading, gaslighter!ellie, belittling, strap on (r!receiving), not rlly angsty but sorta? creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the pic of ellie wc: 4k<3 part one here

You kneeled by your Bible and candles praying for forgiveness for what happened the previous night. Although you enjoyed your time with Ellie, you felt guilty for going against your own morals. You didn’t judge your friends for having premarital sex and you didn’t think you’d go to Hell over it. If so, everyone would burn and not reach paradise. But you always told yourself that you’d wait until you were married before having sex. You blamed the alcohol and the weed but a part of you believed you would’ve done it sober.

You stood up with a sigh, knowing you had promised to meet Dina for lunch to talk about Ellie’s apology. You spent all night coming up with a lie, which you also felt horrible about. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. You greeted everyone with a smile as you walked past them. You were thankful that no one knew you drank and smoked the night before.

You walked in and almost ran face first into Seth, who glared down at you. “Sorry!” you apologized, stepping past him and heading towards the table where Dina was sitting.

“Hey you,” she greeted with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”

You sat down and set your bag in the chair next to you. “I woke up with a slight headache this morning but it went away after an hour. So I guess not too bad,” you responded.

“You’re a champ. I feel much better but I woke up feeling like complete shit.”

“I guess I didn’t drink enough to get a proper hangover.”

“Which means you didn’t get drunk enough. Gotta try again!”

“Absolutely not!” you disagreed. “I don’t think I wanna drink again. It tasted horrible!”

“That’s why you get a chaser,” said Dina. “Anyways, let’s get to why we’re here.”

She grabbed your wrist and looked deep into your eyes with a smirk. “Please tell me what Ellie said! I’m so shocked she apologized. She never admits when she’s in the wrong.”

“Well, she came up there and basically told me that she felt bad for making me upset. Even though she’s always doing that,” you laughed. “But she said she realized it went too far and that really, I’m not that bad or something like that. She promised she wouldn’t make fun of me again but who knows.”

“So, are you two gonna be friends?” Dina asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know… she actually invited me over to watch a movie tonight but I think I’m gonna pass.”

“I think you should go. Ellie never invites people to her place unless it’s for a party or she’s bringing a girl home to fuck. Damn, she really feels bad then,” said Dina.

You couldn’t help but smile. Even though she wanted you to come over to fuck you again, you liked the idea of Dina believing Ellie was going out of her way to prove how sorry she was to you. You originally were going to come over and tell her you weren’t sure if y’all should continue seeing each other but it wouldn’t hurt convincing her to watch a movie. 

“Maybe I will go,” you stated. “I wouldn’t want things going back to how they were before.”

Dina peeked behind you and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” she said. You glanced back to see Ellie walking in. Her hair was messy, the top half of it tied up. She wore her gray hoodie still and baggy jeans. She looked over and made eye contact with you. She fixed her gaze on Dina and made her way to the table.

“Sup, Dina,” she said.

“Hey Ellie.”

Ellie looked back at you and nodded. She walked away and sat with a dark haired woman across the room. She smirked at you before starting a conversation with the girl. You frowned, holding your head up with her hand.

“Well, she didn’t say anything to you but she acknowledged you,” Dina uttered.

You couldn’t stop staring at Ellie and the girl. “Who is she sitting with?” you interrogated.

“That’s Cat. You know Cat, she just cut her hair so she’s a bit unrecognizable now.”

You felt a pain shoot through your stomach in jealousy. “Oh, her ex?”

“Yeah. I think they’re talking again. After you left the party, she came by and they disappeared for a couple minutes.”

You felt sick. Ellie used you and knew how much it meant to you to have sex. You got up quickly, the chair scraping across the floor loudly. Ellie turned her head from across the room, staring at you in confusion.

“I-I forgot,” you said. “I forgot I was supposed to help Sadie with something for bible study.”

Dina cocked an eyebrow at you. “Sadie’s on patrol?”

You smacked your face with your hand. “Shoot, you’re right. That’s next Saturday. Nevermind. I do need to go, though. My head is beginning to hurt again. I think I need a nap. It’s starting to get busy and all the chatter is killing me.”

“You alright?” asked Dina with concern.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll take a nap and feel better.”

“Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and come by tomorrow around noon! I wanna know what you and Ellie are gonna talk about tonight.”

You said nothing to Dina, spinning around to leave. As you walked out, you could see through the window that Ellie was at Dina’s table, leaned over and talking to her. You turned away and sped up so you could get home quickly. 

-

You stood at the mirror on your door, looking up and down at your outfit. You wore your normal baggy clothes so Ellie wouldn’t get any ideas when you went over to talk to her. You grabbed your coat as you exited the door and headed down the steps. Ellie was just two blocks over but you knew you would be freezing to death before you got there. You shoved the jacket on and started walking down the road, your thoughts running rampant as you figured out what’d you say. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ellie looked at Cat as they spoke. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about the way Ellie looked in your eyes as she hovered over you. You got close to Ellie’s home and shook those thoughts away, mumbling a quick prayer to yourself so you would stay strong and stay on track.

You knocked on Ellie’s door and waited for her to open it. You heard shuffling inside and then the knob turned, revealing Ellie in a tank top and jeans. You looked down at her exposed tattoo then back up at her face. She wore a shit-eating grin as she stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, throwing yourself on her couch in irritation.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ellie, coming to sit next to you. “Mad that I didn’t say hi earlier? Is that it?”

You scooted away from her and refused to look at her. “No,” you muttered.

“Aw, talk to me, pretty girl.” 

She reached out to grab your thigh but you smacked her hand away. You stood up and towered over Ellie, glaring at her sweet face. “I-I came here originally to tell you that maybe we shouldn’t have sex again!” you declared. Ellie leaned back, an amused look on her face. “I told myself that I would wait for marriage. My virginity was important to me, Ellie.”

“So… you’re upset that you had sex before being married?” questioned Ellie, still looking entertained about what you were saying.

“I was at first! I prayed and cried, begging God to forgive me. Mostly prayed that He’d forgive me for blaspheming Him. But now I feel stupid for losing my virginity to you,” you explained bitterly.

Ellie frowned. “You didn’t enjoy last night?” she asked in a mocking tone.

“You don’t want me. You’re talking to Cat again! And I’m angry that I was a fool to think you really wanted me. You just wanted in my pants so that you could say you made the good Christian girl go back on her morals, made her give herself to you completely! Just another thing to brag to your friends about.”

Ellie broke out into laughter. “This is about me having lunch with Cat?” She almost couldn’t believe it. You were jealous and assuming something was going on between her and Cat all because you saw them two together.

“Well, you’re sleeping with her again aren’t you?”

“No,” Ellie scoffed. “Who put that idea in your head anyway? Dina?”

“When I left the party, what happened?”

Ellie felt like she was being tested. She hated feeling that way. She only fucked you once and you were already testing her as if you two were in a relationship.

“Cat came by and we talked,” Ellie replied honestly.

“Dina said y’all left the party for a couple minutes.”

“Exactly! I wouldn’t even say a couple minutes, it was probably less than a minute.”

“What did she want?”

“Really? Why does it matter?”

“I can’t sleep with you if you’re sleeping with her too,” you said.

“You’re gonna feel really stupid when I tell you why we met up today.”

You groaned, frustrated that Ellie was making you feel this way. You wished you ghosted her instead. If she wanted her ex, fine. But she was an idiot to think she could still fuck you on the side.

“She wanted advice on how to ask out the girl she’s been seeing.”

Ellie watched as your face turned red in embarrassment.

“You feel stupid, huh?” she teased, smirking at your mortified expression.

“Don’t,” you scolded. “Don’t even… don’t go back to that or I’ll leave.”

“I’m not being mean, baby. I’m stating a fact. C’mere… I know you’re sorry. I forgive you.”

You walked over to her, your knees almost touching hers as she sat up and brushed her fingers along your arms.

“I like that you were jealous. I like that you felt dumb for assuming shit. That’s all you are, my dumb puppy,” she spoke in a low raspy voice. She actually didn’t enjoy that you had gotten jealous. All you were to her was a fucktoy. Jealousy ruins her fun. Ellie decided to let it slide for the night, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until all you can say is a string of apologies for thinking bad of her.

You pulled your arms away, sighing at the loss of her touch but wanting to stand your ground.

“I am sorry, Ellie. But it doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have sex anymore. I wanted to wait until marriage and I want to wait until marriage to have sex again. I messed up once and it’s okay but I cannot sin this way again.”

Ellie hummed, her finger lifting up your shirt slightly to stick it in the hem of your jeans. She slid it across your skin, looking up as your breathing got faster.

“But it felt so good to sin, didn’t it, baby?” she cooed.

“I refuse to confess that to you. God has already forgiven me. I mean it.”

“Then make me stop.”

Ellie started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down around your ankles. She chuckled at the sight of your soaked panties. “You want this as much as I do,” she taunted.

You watched as she pulled them back up. “But if you really don’t want to… well, I won’t make you. But it makes me sad. I had so much planned for tonight.”

You fought with yourself internally as a part of you was desperate for her to take them off again and touch you. You hadn’t moved an inch, not even to button your jeans up. They were falling down slowly, too slow for your liking.

You knew it was wrong but decided it would be okay. All of your friends do it and they’re good people. You truly believed that there was no way that they would go to hell for having sex. They were the best friends you ever had. You never judged them for it so why would they judge you?

You hesitated before you spoke up. “W-What did you have planned?”

Ellie smirked devilishly. She knew you’d give in if she made you feel bad about it. While she realized it was wrong, she didn’t care because things were going her way.

“Follow me,” she demanded. She stood up and you walked after her, feeling nervous but in a good way. Ellie stepped inside her room and you admired the walls. There were so many posters and trinkets scattered over her dressers. In one corner of the room, she had a desk with papers all over it and a guitar next to it. Ellie was digging through her closet as you inched closer to read the papers. Before you could pick one up, Ellie dropped something which startled you. You spun around to see her eyeing you closely. She had thrown something back in the closet on purpose to gain your attention. She shook her head no, her eyes squinted into a glare. You backed away from her desk, choosing to sit on the bed instead.

“Atta girl,” Ellie complimented. She made her way over to the bed with a box. She placed it in front of you on the floor and you peeked in, gasping. 

“You’re gonna use all of that on me?”

She chuckled. “No, I want you to pick.”

“To put inside me?”

“For me to wear so I can fuck you properly,” she explained, her voice soft and almost condescending. She knew you had no idea what she meant and how she was going to use it. “Do you see this? It’s a harness,” she continued, holding it up to show you. “I wear it over my boxers and I’ll have whichever one you pick attached to it.”

You looked back in the box and started going through it, picking up different ones and making a face before putting it back in. “These are too big, Ellie,” you admitted. “I think it’ll hurt too much.”

“It’s supposed to hurt the first time, honey. Do you want me to take out the smallest one I have?”

You nodded and slid the box over to her. She reached in and grabbed one, passing it over to you. “It’s five and a half inches long,” she said. “Pretty average. Thick enough but not too thick. Is this okay?”

“It’s okay. Please be gentle, though,” you begged.

“What, you really think I’d be rough on you? I’m not gonna do that until you’re used to it, dummy. I’ll be real slow and gentle until you say otherwise. Although, I’ll probably keep it slow. Not sure if you deserve to be fucked hard. You did come in here accusing me of bullshit earlier.”

You pouted at Ellie, feeling that it was unfair for her to bring it up. Your pout went away though as you watched her take her shirt off. Your eyes followed her hands as she slowly unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops. She shoved her jeans off and stepped out of them. Ellie walked over to you, smirking as you stared at her in awe. “Give it,” she whispered. You handed her the dildo. “Take off your clothes, pup. You wanna be ready for me once this is put together, don’t you?”

You obliged, standing up to discard your clothes as fast as you could. Ellie laughed softly at your desperation. You were completely naked by the time the strap was ready. Ellie stepped closer to you as you pushed yourself further up on the bed. You laid back on the pillow, Ellie now hovering over you. “Such a needy girl,” she murmured. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ellie,” you breathed. She looked down at your pussy, gliding her fingers along your thighs.

“I could touch you,” she began. “But do you really deserve that?”

“Y-You bullied me for years, Els, do you deserve to fuck me?” you said slightly above a whisper. You realized what you had said as Ellie’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance. “I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You meant it,” she interrupted. “You want to be a brat now baby? Now you really have to prove how sorry you are.”

“I am sorry!” you whined. You reached up to touch her but she smacked your hand away.

“I’m pissed because I can’t fuck you how I want to. If you continue to act like a brat by the time you’re adjusted to my cock, I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. I’ll make a mess of you. A braindead little bitch with an aching cunt, crying because I won’t let you cum no matter how much you beg. Got it?”

You nodded, her threats turning you on even more. You liked when she called you a good girl but you also enjoyed the side of her that was angry with you. You couldn’t wait until you got used to getting fucked with a strap so that she could do whatever she wanted with you.

“Use your words,” she demanded.

“I got it, Ellie.”

“Good girl. You want me to continue?”

“Yes please,” you answered.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” said Ellie, going back to being soft and sweet with you. She began to press the tip of her dick to your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Does that feel good, pup?”

“Mhm!” you moaned in agreement. “S’ good, Ellie!”

“Do you want more or do you want me to put it in?”

“In,” you responded eagerly. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“If you need me to stop or go slower or anything like that, tell me,” she said as she lined her cock up with your entrance. “Are you ready?”

You nodded. Ellie leaned closer so that her face was right in front of yours to watch your reaction. She slowly pushed into you, making you yelp in pain.

“Sh, just like that baby,” Ellie whispered in a raspy voice. “It’s okay. You can take it.”

Ellie kept it inside you for a few seconds so you could adjust to the feeling before she started to thrust into you gently. You whined in both pain and pleasure, loving the feeling of Ellie’s strap inside of you.

“Good girl, you’re taking it so well.”

Ellie kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around her. Your nails dug into her back, scratching her with every thrust. Ellie rolled her hips at a steady pace, talking you through it until you reached down and tugged at her waist.

“You want more baby?”

“Please, go harder.”

Ellie went harder but still kept the slow pace, watching as your eyes squeezed shut from how good it felt. “Fuck,” Ellie moaned, the sound of your wet pussy making her throb. “You feel good, pup? Is your cunt adjusting well to my cock? Hm?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I-I want you to go-to go faster, Els. Please!”

Ellie grinned at your pleading and sped up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You moaned louder, gripping Ellie’s shoulders and crying out her name.

“Yeah? You like that, honey? Tell me how good it feels,” said Ellie between grunts.

“Fuck it feels s-so good! I’m about to cum, please let me cum!” you begged.

“Such a good little slut, asking for permission. Cum for me like the good girl you are, my good girl,” Ellie growled.

She plunged deeper into you and faster, watching your face as you squealed and whined. Your orgasm took over your body, making you scream out Ellie’s name. Ellie slowed down as you trembled beneath her.

“Atta girl,” she praised. 

She pulled out of you and laid back on the bed beside you, turning on her side to watch you catch your breath.

“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

You looked over at her and shook your head. “It stung at first but I got used to it. It felt really good,” you uttered between breaths.

“Good, I got a bit too carried away at the end but you seemed to enjoy it.”

You giggled. “Yeah, I did like it when you were rougher.”

“Noted,” Ellie said as she reached over to her drawer, opening it and pulling out an already rolled blunt. She lit it up and offered it to you but you declined.

“I can barely think, Ellie.”

Ellie shrugged and puffed on it, blowing it out away from you. “Suit yourself, doll.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded. “I was wondering… if maybe you could teach me how to touch you?”

“No,” Ellie said almost too quickly. “I can get myself off when you leave. You can stay until I finish this.”

“Oh, I’m not staying the night?”

Ellie shook her head no. You sighed, realizing that you had to walk home with weak legs.

“Why won’t you teach me?” 

“Teach you what?”

“Um, teach me how to touch you? I don’t think it’s fair I cum and you don’t,” you stated.

“I don’t do that unless I’m in a relationship with that person.”

“Well, something will come out of this probably so you might as well show me now!” you said as you laughed. You saw the confused expression Ellie made, your smile faltering. “I mean, it is going to, isn’t it?”

“It’s going to what?”

You sighed in frustration, getting mad that Ellie was playing dumb. You knew her better than that. Ellie was a smart girl but would fight her way out of admitting something she didn’t want to. You raised up and grabbed your clothes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nauseous. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “I should just go.”

“Hey, I want you to stay until I finish my joint so I can walk you out.”

“Such a gentleman, Ellie,” you spat back sarcastically.

“What was that? Did I not just let you cum on my cock after you insulted me earlier? I wasn’t going to let you but I did out of kindness. You should watch your tone with me, church girl, because I won’t be so nice next time.”

“You’re fucking me but don’t plan on having anything with me at some point?” you asked as you stood up. You tumbled a bit due to how shaky your legs were but you tried your best to not let it show. “You could’ve told me.”

Ellie scoffed. “I’m just havin’ fun. I didn’t realize you would want this to be a relationship.”

“I assumed you knew because of how I am. I’m a Christian who dates to marry,” you argued.

“Right, just like you assumed I was fucking Cat again all because you saw us sitting together. Relax, I don’t know where this will go. I like fucking you and I plan on fucking you as often as I can. Not if you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way, though.”

You rolled your eyes and started to get dressed. Ellie continued to smoke her joint while she observed you. “I already know you’re gonna say this is the last time,” Ellie continued. “But you’ll come back. I know you will. I think you need me.”

“What I need is to go home and sleep. I also need you to leave me alone,” you mumbled.

“When I show up to your door tomorrow night, are you really gonna turn me away?”

“Bye, Ellie,” you said as you started to walk away.

“Wait,” Ellie stood up and put her joint out. She slid out of the harness and threw it on the bed, grabbing her tank top and shoving it on as she chased after you. You were almost at the door when she jogged in front of you, opening it for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, pup,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Fuck you.”

You walked out, Ellie still at the door to watch you go. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow!”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

a/n: this is honestly a hot ass mess, and more like an info dump with some loose plot on the side. it's also ridiculously long because i have been wanting to write about this for so long, but i was lowkey too scared too. i also want to say that i don't condone the reader's actions, mean girls aren't cute nor are they funny, it's just for the morally gray plot 😭

i literally cannot stop thinking about what if Spencer Reid had a childhood best friend that was a mean girl.

realistically, i'm aware that spencer looks down on people like that, but for the sake of this au, imagine if the both of you grew up together, and you protected him from bullies and whatnot.

of course you're not a moral person, you're mean and you have a wicked tongue, and you're all around not nice, but spencer loves you.

i'm imagining a typical LA valley girl; that once you both get older, your clothing gets sluttier and you get meaner, while he gets nerdier.

your dynamic i imagine would be a really loose adaptation of the 'mean to everyone else but you' trope.

it's kind of funny to an outsider looking in, because you feel the need to protect your boy genius from people like you.

spencer helps to reel in the bitchy tendencies in you, because you typically lose your cool fast and say whatever's on your mind, which usually comes at a cost of the other person's feelings.

when you guys were younger, he was definitely scared of you.

though you were this chunky girl that should have been bullied right along with him, you were downright worse than what he had to deal with.

the poor boy nearly shit himself when you sat with him at lunch the day after you had saved him from getting his ass kicked.

he was too nervous to say anything, and you've never left him alone since.

now that spencer's older, he figures that your friendship kind of tracks; he always did attract trouble.

the strange part about it was that, yes, you were snappy, but you had never purposely tried to hurt his feelings.

he knows how you get, especially when you go on your tangents or if your buttons had been repeatedly pushed.

you lash out and say things you don't mean, then slink back into his arms with that charming pout on your face, and an apology thick on the tip of your tongue.

spencer sometimes forgets that people kind of fear you because you're sweet on him.

like let's be honest, you're a judgy bitch. no one likes those.

so when he's exposed to that side of you, he gets whiplash.

you took well to the team though, and i only think that's because you can tell how much they mattered to him.

your main thing had always been to try and defend him against people that have ill intentions.

so when see the sheer amount of camaraderie and familial energy that surrounds all of them, you ease up.

but not when they cut him off. that's when you get ugly.

you guys were in separate grades due to spencer jumping ahead, but you still hung out on a daily basis, you had heard his statistical chattering for the majority of your life.

so, you knew it was something he found pleasure in doing, and you'd be damned if someone upset him.

you really did try and bite your tongue! but sometimes morgan's ego was too big for his body, or maybe jj gave him one too many looks for your liking.

luckily spencer can catch the cat-fight bubbling in you from a mile away; he can see the way your eyes narrow first, a disbelieving smile on your face while your exceptionally done nails tap on the nearest surface in irritation.

have you ever seen a cat when its hair stands up on the back of its neck? yeah, that's you.

all it takes is a warm hand on your naked thigh and a small shake of his head to make you huff and cross your arms, the clinking of your bangle bracelets moving along with you.

of course he'll hear all about it on the ride home.

spencer's feelings for you had always been there, but there was a difference between you being his best friend and his lover.

and honestly? that grade school intimidation that he had felt would came back.

because at the end of the day you were you, and he was him.

it was a ridiculous thought, one that you had dismissed when you had confessed to him yourself.

"do you like me back or not, spence?" you had asked out of the blue one day. "because you keep looking at me and not doing anything about it. It's kind of pissing me off."

his wide, shocked eyes met yours, practically tearing his gaze away from the book he had been engrossed in.

"i... do."

"do what?"

"yes, i do like you back."

"good."

dating wasn't all that different than being your friend, he had come to realize.

the only thing that was different was that you were sweeter than ever.

always complimenting him and buying him shit, posting him all over your social media, and even making him your lock screen.

you were so proud to be his partner, that he had forgotten what being loved out loud had felt like.

your relationship came as a shock to no one, of course.

y'all are the epitome opposites attract.

your skimp wear compared to his cardigans, your bite to his soft ask, your scoff to his chuckle.

that's what spencer's come to love. the fact that you guys are so different.

yes, you're a handful, yes you're mean to him sometimes, but like i said before:

he loves you. and that's all that matters.