#two fucked up kids finding common ground in each other

[piperslovebot]

(via maya-matlin, degrassicaps)

[bookishdreamer28]

You and Mattheo were laying on the couch inside the common room, with no one else around but just the two of you since you skipped another class today.

Mattheo had your body cradled in his arms, as he softly ran his fingers through your hair. He was watching you in admiration as you read your book and he felt his stomach flipping as you looked up at him to give him one of your tooth-rooting smiles, a warm light reflecting in your eyes. It was still unbelievable to him how he got so lucky to have someone like you, loving him the way you do and making him the happiest he could ever be.

The light from the fireplace was hitting your face just right. So beautiful Mattheo thought to himself as he kept his gaze on you, feeling so hypnotized by you.

No words were needed, because just the way you looked at each other alone, was enough to understand what and how the other was feeling. You moved up a little and captured his lips into a love filled kiss, which Mattheo melt into the kiss and hum with satisfaction. After a while, you pulled away and when you looked at each other, you let out a small laugh which made Mattheo's smiled wider.

"Gosh you're so beautiful" he whispered and kissed you again, with more passion. When you were done with your make out session, you just stayed there, snuggled up closer to each other and enjoyed each other's company.

"You know at some point we should tell them" you murmured against his neck and turned to look at him.

"You kidding? They'll start tormenting us about not telling them and they won't Ever, leave us alone again. And trust me the last thing I want, is to want to have my moments with my gorgeous girl, and having the guys eavesdropping"

He placed a kiss on your forehead and laid back as he looked at you with a smirk. You shook your head as you laughed and laid your head on his chest.

"I love these secret moments together. We don't need anyone else to know. Now that I finally have you, I want to cherish you every minute of the day" you giggled as he laid you now on your back and he got on top of you.

He kissed you hungrily and his hand traveled up to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. You softly moaned as he bite your lip and you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pressing him closer to your body.

You suddenly heard a weird thudding sound coming from outside and you stopped kissing. He looked at the door and then down ar you.

"Whoever it is they'll leave. I can't stop now" he growled and was about to kiss you again but this time the sound was a bit louder.

"Who ever the fuck is out there you better get lost or else-" The door opened and slammed on the wall by the impact, and two bodies were laying on the ground.

"What. The fuck?" You and Mattheo said and two heads looked up at you.

"Annoying presences? Do you really find us annoying?" Theodore aksed with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, were you eavesdropping the whole time?"

"I wouldn't call it eavesdrop-"

"Oh shut it " Mattheo said to Enzo and then turned to you ready to kiss you again but then he noticed how Theodore and Enzo hadn't left from the room yet.

"You're not going to watch me kiss my girlfriend pricks" Mattheo angrily said to them and the boys hurriedly stood up and just left the room.

"Well that was easy-"

"And just so you're know we're not annoying. Y/N loves me" Enzo's face appeared behind the door and smirked at you.

"Berkshire you have one second-"and before Mattheo could finish the sentence, Enzo was already gone.

You laughed and Mattheo turned his head to you when he heard the joyful sound, smiling too.

"And now, where were we?" He leaned down and started trailing deep kisses along the nape of your neck, making you forget about everything.

💚 🙌

[rosedpetal]

Until Death Do Us Part

Summary: Harvey and you have been on a rocky road lately, but hopefully, you can still find each other.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 932

Warnings: stablished relationship (reader and Harvey are married), mentions of body image struggles, hints at +18 themes.

Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not." Your husband frowned when you came out from the closet wearing your 'costume'.

A huff of annoyance leaves your lips.

"What the fuck is wrong now? Did I gain weight and suddenly you can't get up or something?" Venom drips from your sarcastic remark and Harvey rubs his temples.

"Why are you like this? Jesus Christ, Y/N, it's not about some shit like that, stop trying to make me a bad guy at every given chance!" He snaps. "It's just your stupid wings, okay? You look like you came straight from a Barbie movie, when you said you'd like to roleplay being a fairy, I thought you'd use one of those Lord of the Rings-"

"Those are elves. Not fairies. They don't have wings!" You seethe, taking your plastic wings off and accidentally pressing the light button on them, turning the pink leds on, and Harvey's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry if my knowledge in a fictional world lore is lacking, it's because I actually have a real job."

That was cruel and uncalled for and he knew it. Harvey had a bad habit of saying the most callous things without even thinking. It didn't help that he hated the idea of roleplaying from the very beginning.

"How could I forget, it's the only thing you care about!" You raise your voice, and it breaks in the end. "Tonight was supposed to be fun!"

Harvey immediately regrets the jab he made at your wings. Well, it's not that he couldn't get himself to be motivated by you while you were wearing them... It's just that it was fucking weird because he was a grown man and he was pretty sure his kid niece wore the same pink fairy wings every Halloween.

And he could explain that to you, but you just had to make a self deprecating comment about your body and imply that he wasn't man enough to look past his partner putting on some weight.

Which was another ridiculous thing, because, seriously? He couldn't care less if you were a size 2 or 20. It didn't matter. He married you because he loved you, inside and out, and you weren't an airhead that couldn't carry on a conversation with him. He respected you. He was interested in what you had to say (most of the time, at least).

But for months now, you two have been fighting nonstop, and more than often saying some hurtful shit to each other and no longer searching for the comfort of each other's arms in the middle of the night.

He wondered if your sudden self consciousness regarding your body was because you've been stress-eating ever since the chasm between you two was created.

Harvey was selfish, harsh, arrogant and snappy, but he wasn't insensitive to how women sometimes had insecurities that ate them alive.

He sighed, following you in the closet, his chest tightening at the sigh of your angry tears while you put on sweatpants and a top (the sleepwear you wore on nights you made sure no intimacy was gonna happen).

He even agreed on going to therapy with you, which he thought was an admission of defeat, that you two weren't mature enough to solve your problems on your own.

"Honey." He called, his voice soft with regret.

He hates the 'homework' your therapist gives you every week. A dinner date, a little getaway, a road trip, sitting down and talking for an hour. He feels like his own relationship is being scripted and that you can't find common ground anymore.

"What?" You wipe your tears, unable to look at him in the eyes.

"We don't roleplay." He said in a teasing tone. "Why would I want you to pretend to be someone else when you already exist?"

He gently holds your face in both hands, wiping the remaining tears with his thumbs.

"I'm an idiot. I promise my reaction has nothing to do with whatever's been making you feel vulnerable right now. Seriously. The wings just reminded me of halloween, and halloween reminded me of children going trick-or-treating and you don't want your husband to be thinking of children in the bedroom, do you?"

You grimaced. "God, no."

"Glad we're on the same page, babe." He gently pressed his forehead against yours. "Dance with me."

"There's no music." You sniffled.

"We have a nice record player in the living room. Come on, baby."

Gently, he guided you out from the room, his fingers intertwined in yours as he put on some sappy jazz music. He sways barefoot with you on his arms, your head on his chest, and it takes you back to simpler times.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He's the first to speak, and you appreciate the sentiment, because you know how hard it is for him to apologize, specially when he's the first one to bend the knee to make peace.

"We'll get through this." You mumble, and he kisses the top of your head, and suddenly the golden ring on your finger feels lighter.

"I love you more than anything in the world, darling. Please, don't doubt that. I need you to remember that every single day, specially when I'm at my worst."

"I love you too, Harvey."

He knows there's a long way to go, but the little progress you made tonight makes his heart feel more at ease, as long as you're both on the same side, because he knew with every fiber of his being that he meant it when he said 'until death do us part'.

[halitis]

do i have anything anything against jason as a character? no. i actually like him quite a bit! i think hes really interesting!

BUT DO I THINK SOME JASON FANS ARE FUCKING DUMB AS FUCK?!?? YES BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?

im gonna go through all the shit wrong with this comment thread one by one because jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

1. "that thing" first of all. What. she is literally just a evil-aligned poc woman. she has been raised in this environment and as a result of that this is really the only life available for her and thats the tragedy of her character!

2. "why did she get with roy" THEY ARE FUCKING SOULMATES. THEIR ENTIRE THING IS THE INHERENT LOVE THEY SHARE FOR EACH OTHER WHILE ALSO VALUING THEIR MORALS ABOVE EACH OTHER. IT IS THE COMPLEXITY OF RAISING A CHILD TOGETHER AND ALSO TRYING TO FIND MIDDLE GROUND. IT IS BEGGINT THE OTHER TO CHANGE AND KNOWING THEY WONT.

3. "MY BABY JASON" YOU CANNOT SAY THAT AFTER YOU JUST INSULTED JADE.... LITTERALLY CANNOT. the biggest fucking hypocrytical statement i have ever fucking heard!!! bro!!! jason is Nawt a good person! he just flat out isnt! he has done so much horrid shit, not just to his familt, but to roy's family too. like he is not ur sweet innocent traumatised boy, he is a fucked up grown ass man who was hurt and decided to take that pain out on others. he is no fucking different from jade except he thinks hes doing rhe right thing, at least jade knows she isnt

4. "lian baby mama is jason now" ive talked abt this before, but sexism in fandom spaces when it comes to mlm ships is so fucking common it is fucking absurd. why are women only used as babymakers for ur gay characters?? why can they not be complex characters while men can???? it is fucking absurd how common it is in dc fandom and i frankly dont know why im shocked by it! women are regressed to one of three roles: evil villain who abused male love interest, baby maker, BAMF with no complexity or character at all and it is honestly so fucking tiring and just, boring to read??? like how do you not just hate it??????

5. "unemployed" honestly. i have no words. all im saying is it is No Fucking Shock that the woc is being pushed into these awful stereotypes.

now we are up to the worst part. the final comment...

6. "how are you gonna sleep with my man" ROY LEFT JADE. NOT THE OTHER WAY ROUND. roy was on an undercover mission and fell in love with jade and got her pregnant! he left because he would not be able to arrest her!!! all she fucking knew was one of the first people she truly ever loved had fucking gotten her to trust him and then left her, she had to deal with that pregnancy BY HERSELF. SHE LITTERALLY SAYS SHE SPENT THE ENTIRE PREGNANCY WAITING FOR ROY TO COME BACK TO HER, AND SHE WASNT EVEN MAD SHE STILL LOVED HIM.... she didn't even realise his identity for years!

also why is it always the woman's fucking fault if she gets pregnant? it takes two to tango! roy is as equally responsible for that pregnancy as jade is!

7. "AND THEN LEAVE YOUR KID" OH MY GOD.... [EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND] JADE. CANNOT. LEAVE. THE LEAGUE. BUT SHE DOES NOT WANT TO RAISE A FUCKINF CHILD THERE BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT ITS LIKE!! SHES BEEN THAT KID!! jade knows fucking better then to delude herself into thinking she can raise lian safely while still stuck in her life, but lian is her number one priority always!! forever!! she pushes roy and lian away because she knows she is dangerous for them and because she thinks she doesnt deserve to have them and that love in her life!!!

8. "lian should be embarrassed to have her as her mum" i actually fucking wish nothing but hell upon you. have you not fucking read. just a single thing in ur life actually? just like actually can you read??? because i have met TODDLERS with better media literacy than you. LIAN HAS ISSUES WITH HER MOTHER. THIS WAS A BIG PART OF HER STINT AS SHOES. SHE IS DEALING WITH THE COMPLEXITIES OF LOVING HER MOTHER, THE WOMAN WHO LOVES HER AND CARES FOR HER, WHILE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT SHE ISNT A GREAT MUM.

im sorry this is so messy and has so much shouting it actually has me fuming when people r so fucking stupid, idc if you dont like a character but dont just ignore all the bits of a characyer that make them redeemable or interesting to prop up ur male blorbos????

[thespineoftherighteous]

more more more more aftg show bloopers (p 4?? I think?) whoop whoop de fuckin whoop

Neil's actor being a huge Duolingo dork and in the behind the scenes while the other actors are fooling around between takes you can often see him with his head bent and hear the little 'ping!'s coming from his phone

also during late night shoots, as it gets closer to midnight he always has a point where he's like SHIT my Duolingo streak. and then just blocks out everyone while his fingers fly over his screen

(fans make compilations of him proudly showing his Duolingo streak to the camera and the number grows as the seasons progress)

(he definitely is the kinda bitch who cares more about maintaining the streak than actually learning languages)

actually omg while we're on the topic of languages

Kevin's actor tenderly reciting his French lines to Matt's actor and Matt's actor is just smitten. and he goes "say something else, love" and Kevin's actor strokes his cheek while saying another one of his lines and Matt swoons

(then Kevin's actor turns to the camera and goes "I just told him that he's a disappointment and is going to get his ass handed to him by ravens if he doesn't do exactly as I say" and, from the ground, Matt's actor goes "hell yeah you did. talk dirty to me any day of the week you sexy, sexy man")

coach's actor is always swearing to the point where they implement a swear jar...really it's just something for the kids to jokingly rag on him about, but he goes with it, and every so often they'll empty the jar to buy the cast and crew pizza

they're filming outside at night and it's cold and in between takes Matt's Aaron's and Renee's actors are all huddled together for warmth and Matt's actor gets pulled aside to get his makeup touched up and the other two just shriek at the absence of his heat and catch up to him to tuck themselves against him again

Andrew needs to snap his fingers in one scene but everyone finds out that day that his actor doesn't know how to snap so he has a little impromptu snapping lesson and of course it turns into everyone else trying to one-up each other with their snapping abilities

Nicky's actor telling everyone what he's going to steal from set (will literally say"[about Allison's bathrobe] damn that shit soft as hell. Ive been needing a new bathrobe actually. I'm stealing this" or "I'm stealing this lighter/bandana/sunglasses/etc") but because his humor is so dry everyone thinks he's joking. until months later. when the prop department can't find shit

Renee's actress is doing something completely mundane but Neil's and Allison's actors start narrating what she's doing like they're in a nature documentary (always with Australian accents for some reason??)

"and our specimen now reclines herself vertically on a piece of furniture us humans know as 'a desk.' this clearly less-developed creature seems not to understand the purpose of such an object. but given that this is her first time outside her natural habitat (the jungle) her lack of familiarity with modern technology is to be expected"

Renee's actress: *flips them off*

"ah and here we witness one of the most common behaviors of this specimen. specialists have dubbed it 'flipping the bird,' and explain it as a nonverbal expression of affection" "oh fuck off"

photo from another cold night-shoot and it's of Matt's and Dan's actors, she's standing in front of him zipped up in his hoodie, just her head poking out and they're having a conversation with other castmates like it's the most normal thing in the world, looking the very image of the couple they play

so much glorious content from shooting the dorm sleepover scene. the most popular thing to come from it is a picture from after they wrapped where the cast and some members of the crew had moved even closer to each other amid all the blankets and are asleep on top of each other

Andrew's actor will sometimes actually eat the ice cream he's given instead of just pretending to eat it, and halfway through the scene he casually mentions that he's lactose intolerant and sends the crew into a worried frenzy

if you haven't clocked it yet, these bitches are competitive. and one day, one thing led to another, and soon a bunch of the actors are all being filmed having a plank-holding competition. Dan's actress is the first to drop and she gets booed at for it because "you're an ex-stripper where tf is that upper body strength?"

she flips them off and goes to sit on Kevin's actor, hoping to squash his plank, but instead he starts doing push ups with her on his back. she grins

(Rikos actor wins that competition btw. and Neil's actor goes on a rant about "we succumbed to the ENEMY? a RAVEN? your characters would be ashamed of you" (he also lost?))

Allison's actress pretending to do a get-ready-with-me using all the stuff on Allison's vanity

Wymack's actor falling asleep in The Dad Pose™ when they're shooting a scene on the bus. and everybody gathers in to take pictures

when Kevin and Neil get all up in each other's faces their actors will pretend like they're going to kiss each other

not really a blooper but just all the actors for the foxes and the ravens mingling together in between takes and it looks so wrong

give me all the actors constantly taking the piss out of their characters

for ex during a scene where the monsters are in the car on the way to Edens, Nicky's actor looks towards the backseat where everyone is in character and goes wow what a fun crowd we are you'd never believe we're about to hit the club

night shoots are a. struggle. for Dan's actress. and the others love to take videos of her just standing on her mark with the most spaced out expression on her face

Andrew's and Neil's actors are shooting one of their typical intense, deep scenes and after one take, as soon as "cut" is called, Andrew's actor grabs Neil's face and starts serenading him with the song that's been stuck in his head all day

Renee's actress getting scolded for sneaking snacks into her costume

when Nicky's actor messes up a line (and he's the least likely of everyone to do it) he starts spewing Spanish

Andrew's actor constantly teasing his brother and Katelyn's actress whenever they have scenes together

like the two of them will just be talking together in between takes and Andrews actor will be behind the camera recording them and saying shit like "look at that MINYARD RIZZ" (or he'll use their actual last name) "hey btw [Katelyn's actor] I taught him everything he knows"

that scene where the foxes are rushing out of the dorm to check on their destroyed cars and Matt's actor just faceplants (Neil's actor: "wow. the dedication")

in one scene or other Allison's actress is drinking an iced drink and during one take she just keeps calmly shaking the ice around in her cup until one by one everyone cracks

in one scene Allison's actress is wearing sunglasses. and in between takes she lies down and on camera you can see Kevin and Matt's actors whispering trying to figure out whether or not she's sleeping because they can't see her eyes

Aaron's actor always using Neil's actor as a pillow during car scenes because they're always next to each other and they're actually hella tight irl

the kids love to steal any props that coach's actor needs to use (pens clipboards etc) before they start rolling just so they can watch him try to subtly fidget trying to find his prop before they get to the point in the scene where he actually needs it

all the actors just taking pictures together in the most brutal settings on set.

like Neil's makeup has his face all busted and everyone wants a selfie with him. they all have a photoshoot with the trashed cars. they have another one in front of the "happy 19th birthday junior" set. Neil is tied up at The Nest while they change his hair and Jean's and Riko's actors take selfies with him. another photoshoot with Neil handcuffed in the police car. all these settings in terrible scenes and the actors are in front of them with grins and peace signs

they're terrible.

[starlight-write]

lee!Vox and ler!Alastor fic??? 🤔🤔

Stalker

Requests: Open

Summary: Vox's little obsession with stalking his nemesis lands him into a bit of trouble.

Pairings: Lee!Vox, Ler!Alastor (Mommy Issues)

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing

Words: 1666

——————————————————————————————

It was a common understanding for most of Hell’s residents that you’d have to either be brave or stupid to be caught on the streets of Hell in the middle of the night, especially alone. Unless of course you were powerful enough to be considered a threat yourself.

Fortunately, our favorite TV Overlord was a perfect mix of powerful, brave, and stupid.

Vox whistled to himself as he walked out the doors of the antique shop, having just planted a shit load of spyware in case that bastard tried to interrupt another one of his broadcasts.

Velvette had given him an earful that afternoon going on about how he was "obsessed" and "borderline psychotic" referring to his recent attempts at gathering intel (not stalking thank you very much) on his enemy.

"He's a threat to our image! The two of you should be thanking me!"

Their little argument sparked when Velvette noticed the pathetic little man had spent a concerning amount of time in front of his gigantic screen wall. Having sent multiple drones that week to spy on the hotel and its residents.

While he still hadn't found any useful information on his nemesis, just knowing where that bastard was at all times was enough to calm his nerves.

Still not stalking.

The Overlord strolled down the sidewalk with his face buried into his phone checking for updates from the drones.

He noticed one of them was offline, only returning a black screen. Vox swiped furiously on the device, heart racing as he tried to figure out what the FUCK was going on?!

Vox picked up his pace a little bit, his screen buried in the other screen, not at all aware of his surroundings.

The man was to consumed by his panic to realize he was being followed before it was too late.

Vox screamed when he felt someone snatch his arms before dragging the man into the dark alleyway he was just about to pass by.

The creep managed to drag him a good distance down the alley before he came out of his shock enough to fight back.

The man twisted, turned, kicked, punched but only managed to free himself once he let off a good amount of electricity. However, his attacker recovered quickly and a fight broke between the two.

Thankfully not a long one. Soon enough, four tendrils emerged from the wall and wrapped around each of the man's limbs before yanking his body and pinning it to the wall.

Vox grunted and emitted more of his electrical shocks before realizing these things were immune. The tendrils had him pinned several inches off the ground with both arm on each side of his screen. He pulled and tugged at the bonds before realizing how monumentally screwed he was.

An annoyed sigh prompted him to look up at his attacker. Only the small light from his screen allowing him to identify the other.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Alastor stalked towards the other, his menacing smile never faltered as he stared daggers into the trapped man.

The demon stopped mere centimeters away from Vox's face before delivering a quick punch to the wall right next to the other's screen causing the brick to crumble.

"Were you a fucking formula baby or some shit?!" Alastor hissed, stepping away slightly. "Did your mother deprive you of attention that bad that you have go around seeking it from everyone else?!" The demon snarled, seemingly pulling Vox's missing drone out of nowhere as he threw it in front of his feet.

"That's besides the point-" He said. "I MEAN-!"

Alastor snatched the other man's tie forcing their faces together again. "What exactly were you hoping to find, hm? Do tell because I'm dying to know what intel could possibly be valuable enough for you to get your soul torn to shreds over."

Vox smiled down at his captor, completely unfazed by the threat. "HA! You don't scare me, Alastor. Besides, there's nothing in that crappy hotel that was worth seeing anyways. All I saw was shitty improv skits and a bunch of half-assed attempts at redemption. The whole place is one big-fat-fucking-joke, which makes sense considering your clown ass is running the show."

Alastor felt his eye twitch but released his hold on the other's tie, causing his neck to snap up and bang his head on the brick wall.

"That mouth of yours is going to be the death of you, my friend."

Vox shook his head, trying to get his bearings once more. "Don't call me that. And let me go already, I'm not telling you anything."

"What else is there to tell?" Alastor asked, picking up the discarded drone. "You've already proven yourself to be quite desperate for my attention, I figured the best way to punish you for this little stunt is by giving you exactly what you want." Alastor stared the demon down as he crushed the drone with his bare hands.

Vox laughed. "Oh, I'm soooo scared! What are you gonna do? Bore me to death with your little- AAH!" Vox screamed when he felt the other's hands grab his waist.

"Not exactly." The demon laughed.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. NO-!

A million memories suddenly flooded Vox's mind. Memories of laughing his guts out under the other demon. Memories of their their little 'fights' that occurred when one or both of them were bored, which Vox always seemed to lose. Memories of Alastor completely losing his patience and tickling Vox mercilessly until he was in tears.

Alastor smiled, relishing in the sight of that cocky smirk being wiped off his rivals face. The demon snickered as he tightened his grip around the other's waist. "Oh Vox, did you really think I would forget? You've begged for my attention countless times like this before, remember? I know exactly how to shut that big mouth of yours~"

Vox started to squirm, the hands weren't even moving yet but just the thought of it sent tingles through the demon's skin.

"Wait- hehA!- Wahait! th-This is sihilly. C'mon, surely yohohou can thinkik of a better wahahay to- AAAHH!" Vox shouted as those hands began slowly pinching up and down his sides.

Alastor chuckled, softly raking his fingers along the other's sides. "I don't think so, old pal. You've had this coming for a long time now."

Vox shook his head as much as he could, given what little space he had. Failing to suppress his giggles as he tugged furiously at his restraints.

"fuhuhuhuck- no- no plehehehease! wahahahahahait- wahahait a minute!" Quiet, panicked giggles were forced from his throat. Remembering how unbearable the softer tickles proved to be, Vox squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth but still couldn't hope to block out the unbearable tingling sensation.

"Begging already?" Alastor teased. "That's no fun. You know we're just getting started right?~"

Vox cursed at the teasing. Unintentionally emitting electric sparks due to his flustered state. Alastor remembered how easy it was for the man to overheat and took the teasing down a notch. Instead switching tactics and opting to scribble viciously under his arms.

Vox blue-screened for a split second before letting out a high pitch squeal. Full on cackling at this point while he desperately tried to pull his arms down.

"AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!- HOLD ON- HOLD OHOHOHON!!! WAHAHAHIT AHAHAHALASTAAAAA- PLEHEHEHEAHAHA-"

Alastor had that self-satisfied smile he always wore whenever he got what he wanted. Vox hated that smile.

"Oh come now Vox~ You're well on your way to be one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell! Surely this can't be all it takes to break you~"

Vox's screen began to glitch and the whirring of the fans became audible as the man began to overheat.

Oh, right. Teasing is a no-go if we want to continue.

Alastor sighed. Well, if talking was too much for Vox, maybe he'd prefer something else instead~

The hands suddenly removed themselves from underneath Vox's arms and moved to either side of his head. The Overlord was to busy cooling down and catching his breath to realize that the other was positioning his face at the crook of his neck.

The feeling of sharp teeth gently nibbling at his neck was enough to snap him back to reality and into another hysterical fit.

"nononONO!- WAHA-AAAIIEEE- WAHAHAAAAA- AHAHAHAHA!!"

Vox cackled and screamed at the intense feeling. Fighting with everything he had to free himself from his bonds, panic flooded his systems at the feeling of being hopelessly trapped and completely at the other's mercy.

To which, of course, Alastor had none.

The demon could feel the heat radiating from the TV demon's systems and knew the poor, pathetic man didn't have much fight left in him.

Deciding to go for the kill, Alastor repositioned his hands at the other's hips and began squeezing rapidly while also blowing a few raspberries at his neck for good measure.

Yeah, Vox literally didn't last half a second.

No screaming. No cackling. No fighting. The demon's screen just glitched brutally before going black and his body instantly went limp.

Alastor pulled back and looked at his victim for a moment.

"Well, shit." He sighed.

He'll admit, he'd been itching to do that again for some time now but it seems he got carried away and the fun got cut short.

Oh well. He was sure there would be a next time.

Alastor grabbed the other's phone and released his body, letting it drop gracelessly on the floor of the alleyway.

Charlie had taught him the basics of how to work one of these things and thankfully Vox was cocky enough to not enable a password on his device.

Assuming the contact name "Doll-Faced Bitch" was one of his colleagues, he sent a photo of Vox's limp body as well as the location before tossing the phone away and heading back to the hotel.

Someday, he'll learn not to mess with The Radio Demon.

But hopefully not anytime soon.

[allertonhoe]

a chilly reunion - rafe cameron

❉ 'tis the season ❉

content warnings: original afab!reader, enemies to lovers, frat!rafe mention but you really gotta squint lol, mentions being under the influence/consumption of alcohol + drugs, smoking, suggestive/super fucking angsty ❤️

length: 3.2k words

You loved your mother, but she was an absolute tyrant when it came to the holidays. Since you could remember, your house would be adorned with decorations and knickknacks as soon as Halloween was over, the same being done with string lights and reindeer inflatables in your front yard. And because you lived in Figure 8, it had to be outdone every year. Like some glorified, bougie version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas.

With that came her annual holiday party, something you'd come to dread. There were certain things you did look forward to—her famous gingerbread cookies, having an excuse to shop for a new, severely overpriced dress, sneaking alcohol with the other 'kids' even though you were all old enough to drink at this point. But it also meant you'd be stuck spending the night with your mother's best friend's stepson, who had become the bane of your existence.

There was just something about Rafe Cameron that always put a sour taste in your mouth, which was ironic judging your parents hit it off right away after meeting when the two of you ended up in the same swim class when you were younger. You weren't a huge fan of his massive ego, and he was equally resistant to your snarky retaliation.

Your distaste toward each other only worsened the older you got, finding he only got more immature throughout the years. You could find common ground and get along with Sarah when you needed to, and Wheezie was a sweetheart, of course. Their brother, however, seemed to always find a way to get on your every last nerve.

You couldn't begin to describe how relieved you were when he went off to UNC for school, only having to deal with his pestering a few times a year now instead of every single day. And from what you overheard Rose telling your mom during their weekly tea, he'd gotten some fancy internship that had taken up most of his schedule and might prevent him from making it home in time for Christmas. It couldn't just be that easy, though.

About an hour after people began arriving, you recognized a new voice that had the room, scowling when you realized the person you'd been hoping to avoid did in fact show up. What did catch you off-guard was his appearance. Instead of the notably temperamental kid you'd grown up with, stood a well-distinguished man that had actually managed to embody the intimidating attitude he'd carried since he was young.

His hair had been buzzed down. His arms evidently buffer than when you'd seen him last, even underneath the bulky college varsity jacket he wore. He waltzed in breezily, greeting the group he normally hung around as they scrutinized him on his recent success at university. Not realizing your gaze had been fixed on him, flustered as he caught you in the act and shot you a wink.

You'd gone to get more wine when you noticed the table wasn't too crowded, having lost count of which drink you were on. A hand bumping your own as you reached for the bottle of your favourite Merlot, having saved it especially to enjoy and finish off tonight. You could tell by the signature golden ring sitting on their pointer finger, however, that it wasn't any of your friends.

"What do you think you're doing?" you interrogate, shooting daggers at the boy who didn't seem too bothered by your threat. Not that he ever was.

"Trying to enjoy some good wine?" Rafe indicates as if the answer was obvious.

"That's not for you." you dispute, struggling to take it from him.

"I didn't realize it was off-limits," he relinquishes, throwing his arms up in mock surrender as he lets you take it back. "Can't say I'm too surprised, though. I mean, it is you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you survey, hearing him snicker as he went for a different bottle of red.

"You're just very particular. You pretend like we haven't known each other as long as we have." he remarks in an almost menacing way.

"You don't know me." you argue plainly.

"Oh yeah? Still no boyfriend this year?" he accosts you smoothly, his unfaltering arrogance pissing you off the most.

"Still a pain in the ass?" you mimic, only causing your tormenter to start laughing.

"At least I don't have a huge stick lodged up mine, princess," he taunts devilishly, the familiar nickname dripping from his tongue like venom. "Let me know if I can sort that out for you."

"You're fucking insufferable." You scold, cringing as you saw him drink straight from the bottle he'd claimed as you poured the rest of the Bordeaux into your cup. As you took your opportunity to abandon the conversation, he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

"Do you mind just showing me where I can head for a smoke? Don't want to upset Mom," he seeked, referring to your own mother.

"Yeah, fine." you agree hastily as you led him off, not checking to see whether he was even following you.

You were confused by his request, judging how many times he'd been at your house over the years, but just did it since you knew he was relatively correct. Knowing your mother, she'd throw a fit and reprimand you if there were any traces of drugs inside. She believed Rafe was an angel—a sweet, innocent boy who never did anything wrong, even when he did admit to it; even after hearing all the distress he'd put his own poor stepmother through when he'd frequently cause trouble in his adolescence.

You passed the ballroom full of intoxicated adults and continued towards the back of the property, frosty air immediately hitting as you slid the door open. He walked past you as if he owned the place, like he was always around and not just once or twice a year. You were about to go back to the party, but Rafe turned around and gestured for you to accompany him.

"It's freezing," you protest, crossing your arms as the breeze blew inside.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and snatched his gear, not anticipating for him to shrug off his jacket and extend it to you. You weren't too sure why, but you complied, reaching out and accepting it as you shut the screen behind the two of you. The loud commotion of the dinner was muffled, the glass acting as a barrier between all of the chaos and the calm evening. Hearing the spark of his lighter as you became distracted by the night sky, being met with the aroma of something that wasn't tobacco.

"Can I get a hit?" you ask, noticing that Rafe had been observing you.

"Please," he offers out after taking another drag for himself.

You could feel him staring as you brought the spliff to your lips, instantly choking on the substance since it wasn't something you typically partook in. Doubling over as you gasped for air, you felt him rub the small of your back gently. You hadn't expected it, but still appreciated it even though the thin material didn't do much to actually console you.

When you did regain the strength to straighten back up, you were relieved that he wasn't outwardly making fun of you for being unable to handle the dope despite his clearly amused grin. Taking the joint from your grasp but not returning to it right away, instead studying your reaction.

It wasn't the smartest decision, but you took a swig of your drink to attempt soothing your fit, only to find it blurred your judgment even more. You could feel your cheeks reddening, attributing it to the cool temperature rather than his unwavering focus on you. His hands being set firmly on your waist might've had something to do with it too, but you'd never tell him that.

"Not a regular habit of yours?" he speculates, sounding much less patronizing than he had been until this point.

"I've smoked weed," you defend briskly, unsure why you felt the need to confirm that to him. "Some of us just aren't chain smoking all day, every day."

"Stop being so stubborn," he rolls his eyes at your bickering. "Let me help you out." he proposes, watching the way his plump lips wrapped around the filter once more.

The vapor fanned across your face as he exhaled, your high elevating as it enveloped the air around you. You couldn't comprehend how you found yourself in this spot with him of all people, the ordeal finishing as quickly as it started when he backed away after a few seconds. As much as you wanted to fault it to some drunken blunder or mistaken interpretation, his fierce and unmoving gaze implied otherwise.

He stood in front of you nonchalantly, as if he was debating his next move, still close enough that you felt his warm breath. Chills rising even as you felt his body heat radiating towards you, the jacket not doing enough since your legs were still exposed due to your skimpy dress. You considered hugging it closer, but you were overwhelmed enough by Rafe's presence for some reason that you weren't entirely sure if it would just send you into a deeper spiral.

"Was that better?" he implores after the brief silence, his voice low and raspy. You couldn't find the words to reply, just nodding as he took another huff of the plant. "So shy all of a sudden? Not like you..." he observed with the raise of his brow. Letting the wisps escape from his lips agonizingly, a mundane activity on his part but seamlessly capturing your attention.

"Do you ever shut up?" you grumble rhetorically, not wanting to reveal how dumbfounded you were at him.

"Make me," he maintains playfully, leaning into you again.

He blew the smoke directly into your mouth this time, feeling his barely brush your own before pulling away as if it were nothing. A new sensation hitting your skin as you could only see his tilted head in your eyeline, realizing he was pecking lightly along your jaw. Your palms flying to him instinctively, one resting on his chest and the other around his neck but in no way pushing him away. His unoccupied hand sliding onto your waist and under his jacket, feeling his cold grip through the lame excuse of a dress you decided to wear.

"Rafe," you whisper, although the scene around you was tranquil. "What are you doing?"

"Shutting up," he affirms lazily, slowly working his way down your nape. "Are you questioning my methods? Just doing what you wanted..." he persisted, a hushed whimper leaving you as he nipped at your skin.

"Are you flirting with me, Cameron?" you solicit apprehensively, feeling him smirk into your neck.

"Depends. Is it working?" he instigates, making sure he left a mark.

You'd just reduced it down to petty rivalry over the years but never actually considered his endless teasing had a more suggestive context behind it. There was no denying he was incredibly attractive, looking like he could be the textbook definition of the boy-next-door from his appearance but actually being the complete opposite personality-wise.

You'd had brief crushes on him while growing up, nothing you'd ever act on, and ultimately reducing it down to a cute haircut or flash of a smile after a few weeks. You felt disgruntled when he'd brought girlfriends or whatever they were to him in the past, figuring you were unsettled by the PDA and intrusion by some random outsider on your intimate get-together. But you hadn't thought maybe it was because you wanted to be in their position instead.

"You can't think I'm just that simple," you scoff apathetically.

"I know you're that simple, baby," he proclaims, the nickname affecting you more than you'd ever admit.

"Well, I'm not desperate then." you clarify rigidly.

"Is that what you think it is?" he quizzes smugly, inhaling from the filter once more.

What happened next was pathetic and you knew it, falling back into his trap as he repeated his previous actions, if you could even still consider it a trap. Grazing his lips against yours delicately, his demeanor the opposite from his expected brashness. There had always been an underlying tension you felt while in his presence, but it was much more charged than hostile at the moment. Wanting to blame it on the mixture of substances you'd lost track of or your lack of awareness. Hell, just the idea of being caught by either of your parents should've been sobering enough.

"You look good tonight," he praises slyly.

"That isn't anything new, Rafe," you contend.

"Didn't say it was."

"Feels a bit convenient," you accuse, breaking eye contact for the first time but not for too long when he took hold of your chin and twisted it back towards him. "Back home with none of your usual sorority girls doting around. Wanna get your energy out somewhere."

"We both know there's a list of girls I could've called up when I got back here. I was looking forward to seeing you the most though." He banters.

You continued back and forth with the makeshift routine you'd fallen into, Rafe puffing through the spliff without issue and transferring the remnants into your mouth. Blurring the lines of whatever you could even call your rapport, now blowing smoke down each other's throats instead of clawing at them. You didn't know why his behaviour had switched so abruptly towards you, but you weren't finding any drawbacks from your end of it. Only becoming suspicious when you saw a sleazy grin settle on his face as he finished the last of the roach.

"What?" you ask as he nods towards the edge of the awning that had been covering you.

Your eyes widened when you spotted the unmistakable sight of mistletoe, not having noticed the bunch of herbs hanging there until Rafe pointed it out. Assuming your mom had hung it up earlier to mess with her own friends when they eventually snuck outside. When you glanced back at him, however, he was staring at your lips again, not having any more excuse to skim his against yours now that he'd finished his joint.

You were still reeling over his sudden declaration, the haze of your state making it even more difficult to digest his bold admission. Finding yourself fixating on certain traits of his that you didn't generally pay attention to instead of being able to come up with some witty response. His irises a striking baby blue that was impossible to miss, the faint stubble peppered above his lips and along his jawline, how defined his features looked now due to his shaved head.

"I let you smoke most of my weed. I think it's the least you could do." he concludes.

"Smooth." you note.

"Well, that wasn't a no," he drawls. "Just a little one. No one has to know if that's what you're really worried about, princess."

"You really can't help yourself, can you?" you counter at his insistence.

"Isn't it bad luck if we don't? It's like seven years of terrible sex or something." he challenges further.

"That's such bullshit," you huff in frustration. "You know, maybe if you weren't such a jackass-"

That's when he cut you off by doing the inevitable, closing the gap between you and actually kissing you properly. It was clumsy and impassioned and absolutely indecent, like it had been building up for as long as you'd known each other. Rafe manhandling you and pulling you in as close as possible, his hands digging into your ass like he was holding on for dear life. Smirking proudly as he swallowed all the soft sounds he was able to coax from you, effortlessly stripping down your walls and lowering your defenses towards him.

He directed you backwards so your body rested against the house, towering over you and boxing you in with his arms as if you were planning on running off. Like there was no chance of anyone walking out and catching you any minute. Like you weren't just supposed to retreat back to the gathering normally after this when all you wanted to do was drag him up to your bedroom.

"I never realized you felt so strongly." he asserts cheekily when you finally broke apart to regain some composure.

"Don't act so fucking innocent, Cameron." you insinuate.

"There she is," he utters menacingly, causing you to shiver as he swiped his thumb down your bottom lip. "Fucking know-it-all."

"You didn't seem too opposed," you retort. "But I do need to return to my guests. They're probably wondering where I went."

"Can't say I'm as concerned," he dismisses bluntly. "Doesn't seem like our presence is missed either. We both know that everyone is way too drunk to even realize at this point."

"What's got you smitten all of the sudden?" you examine curiously.

"I already told you," he interjects. "Not as sudden as you might believe. Do you really think I show up to this shit every year just for the free booze?"

"Well, I also figured it was to be a pest," you sneer.

"Just to you," he quips as you grill him warily. "Stop overthinking it. Trust me, yeah?" He mutters, brushing some hair behind your ear before bringing his mouth back to yours.

He didn't go in as urgently as he first had, lips expertly massaging yours, swiping his tongue across your bottom one in what was probably the first instance he'd sought your consensus on anything. Your fingers finding their way to his head, running them over his buzzcut and lightly scratching his scalp, earning a low growl from him. You'd never been kissed like that—with such disregard and desire and need. Need you were absolutely reciprocating.

He also wasn't wrong about everyone being too wasted to realize either of you had disappeared, the two of you losing track of time as you became more and more enamored with the other. Maybe it was the safety of the dark. Always having fantasized about getting whisked into the shadows of the night by some daring suitor, you just never presumed it would've been with Rafe of all people. And that you weren't completely appalled by it.

When you'd eventually gone back inside, it was probably evident where you'd gone if no one resolved it by that point. Faces flushed from your lengthy encounter in the frigid weather, your unblemished lip gloss now smudged across both of your mouths. His arm resting comfortably around your waist as you kept his coat clutched over your figure, fitting into his embrace like you were two pieces of a puzzle.

Provocative comments that usually would've bothered you were now being mumbled into your ear explicitly, finding yourself mindlessly giggling along instead of finding them intolerable. The two of you in a shared daze as you clung onto him for the rest of the evening, as if this was the way you'd always acted towards each other. It felt strange, but it felt oddly familiar in a sense too. Like this was somehow always inevitable, although you'd never actually considered it.

note: i wrote this sometime last year off a prompt i found somewhere lolol also didn't edit much so sorry in advance if its kinda wordy. there isn't a part 2 planned but if you guys want it, let me know and i'm totally open to writing it if enough people are interested !!

[nihilo-sensei]

The Infamous Chuuya-SSKK Car Ride

Two. Fucking. Hours.

Akutagawa and Atsushi have been arguing for two hours almost non-stop and there's still an hour to go in the trip. If you had asked Chuuya before he climbed into this four-wheeled prison what the most annoying thing on Earth was, he would've said without hesitation that it was dealing with Dazai. That was a more innocent time, a time before life had decided to punish him for his every felony, misdemeanor, and wasted gallon of milk. He wasn't sure if these apparently nuclear-powered bickering machines being confined to the backseat was better or worse for him. Probably better; at least one half of the invective wasn't being spewed directly into his left ear.

As much as he wanted to blame a member of the Armed Detective Agency for all of his misery, he was disappointed to say that it had been his subordinate and fellow mafioso who started this. Granted it hadn't taken much to get the weretiger to dive down to Akutagawa's level, but he was just trying to make conversation, asking if Chuuya listened to much music. Honestly, the gravity manipulator would've been delighted to spend a three-hour car ride talking about music, even with an ADA member. It was kind of nice that the kid had reached for some common ground between them. Akutagawa really hadn't needed to cut Chuuya off before he had a chance to answer by saying, "No one cares, weretiger." That one admittedly rude remark had sealed Chuuya's fate for the rest of the ride out to the countryside. Thanks, Aku.

"You better not get in my way when we get there, weretiger. The Port Mafia doesn't need Least Beneath the Moonlight."

"I guess I'll leave the job to Brash-ōmon, then. Get over yourself."

How are they still coming up with new insults? Chuuya hadn't even had the energy to tell them to shut the fuck up passed the 35-minute mark, about 25 minutes after his throat started to hurt from trying to match their combined volume. It was like they didn't even hear him. They were in their own little world together.

That was what he'd been warned about, though, wasn't it? Akutagawa and the tiger boy had… tension. He had heard about it from Dazai, but hadn't given it much thought. After all, why would he bother listening to anything that mummy's asshole says off the battlefield? He would happily throw Dazai off a building if he wasn't sure it would make that freak even happier than it would make Chuuya. Something about this train of thought makes Chuuya feel like a hypocrite for some reason. Where was he?

"At least I don't dip my bangs in Wite-Out!"

"Your impoverished ass could only afford one bang!"

Oh right, this thick fog of something making itself at home in Chuuya's backseat and inside his pounding skull. He had thought it was just a joke or an exaggeration, but this much passion for each other? Could all of that really just be simple hate? No, this doesn't really feel like hate. But if they don't hate each other why tell themselves that they do? That's so self-destructive. They should just confront their feelings like adults. Even if those feelings aren't romantic they could still find themselves good friends, they have a lot in common. At least they'd stop making their sexual tension or whatever everyone else's problem.

Why does Chuuya feel like a hypocrite again?

—

Chuuya stares into the rear-view mirror. The new Double Black had practically passed out five minutes into the drive to Yokohama. Not surprising after the mission had turned out to be far more complicated then they had anticipated. He wasn't complaining, he really couldn't deal with another three hours of angry sound waves bouncing around an enclosed space. Truthfully, they'd earned the rest. Even when the situation was going to shit they'd worked well together. Atsushi kept Akutagawa's mind on the civilians while Akutagawa's support kept Atsushi calm and focused. Chuuya sees now why Dazai put them together, not that Chuuya would ever openly tell the man he was right.

So he'd let the pair sleep, only debating whether he should wake them up after the blessedly silent car had crossed the Yokohama city limit. He had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of something that made him suddenly redirect as much attention as he safely could to it. The Sun had set halfway through the drive so he had had to wait for the car to pass the next street light to get a good look at it, and sure enough he saw exactly what he thought he had. At some point in the drive Atsushi and Akutagawa had leaned into each other while they slept. Atsushi's head was now resting on Akutagawa's shoulder while the mafioso's head rested on top of the weretiger's. Chuuya smiled. Definitely not hate.

As the car nears the ADA office, where Atsushi was to be dropped off, Chuuya pulls into a gas station with a new mission in mind. After he puts the car in park he takes out his phone and hopes that fatigue keeps the pair asleep and unaware while he does what needs to be done. He gambles on using the flash and wins a nice, clear picture that's going to absolutely make his fucking day the next time Akutagawa decides to make him sit through another "that goddamn foolish weretiger" rant. But was it really fair to make just Akutagawa suffer when Atsushi was about as responsible for Chuuya's three-hour ordeal earlier? No. And isn't the ADA all about that justice shit?

Chuuya opens his text thread with Dazai, taps his thumbs to the screen a few times, and hands down Atsushi's sentence with the push of 'Send'. He only has to wait a few seconds before the weretiger's irritating superior responds.

Mackerel (21:04): Oh my god, thank you so much for this! How useful my dog is becoming!

You (21:04): I seriously can't do this with you right now, Dazai. Those little bastards almost wiped me out on the way to the mission. They argued the entire time. I'm fucking tired.

Mackerel (21:05): Impressive, isn't it?

"Impressive" was one way of putting it. "Never gonna happen again" was another.

[crsssie]

from one admirer to the other : socmed / penpal au

pairing: leon kennedy x reader, ada wong & reader (but with flirting >:)

synopsis: from one admirer to the other, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their email address! However, much like the name... the person you're writing to tends to be the person you actually admire... surely that's not the case for Leon?!

or, in which Leon, a rising model, is truly not immune to the Ada brainrot even as a model and stays up til 3 reading an ongoing 200k fic of Ada x reader written by none other than... you.

and you? best friends with said model, actually. how else do you write so well?

featuring: reader as poachedeggs // leon as rookiecookie // ada as adadadadadad

tweets:

letters:

To scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did. As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, hopefully we can find another middle ground other than Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, ada wong. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me? I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Tell me more about yourself, maybe?

signing off, Christmas

notice: this is a gauge post! if enough people are interested I'll actually plan it! promise. also, ooc warning ofc I just think it'd be fucking hilarious if leon owned a stan twt

[plush-rabbit]

Nullified Quirk

Request: ASFGSGSHS IDEA!!!

Shigaraki fucking Aizawas daughter/student/someone v close to him, and having Aizawa be forced watch and use his quirk so Shigaraki can touch her fully without her truning into dust

Shameful anon time, too embarrassed =w=' TW: Noncon Word Count: 4K A/N: don't be ashamed here, i started this blog with shameful stuf so please feel free to be gross and never apologize for it here

A copycat quirk isn’t rare, but it isn’t common. Yours is particularly strong with you not only gaining access to quirks- mutants even- but also gaining their appearance. It’s a useful quirk when the situation turns sticky.

No one really expected the underground hero, Eraserhead, to take a new hero under his wing, much less make the so-called new hero his official sidekick, and yet, there you were, standing beside him, ready to be his sidekick. 

You preen when he praises you, with each pat on the top of your head, and each and every small introduction further into his life makes you feel special. He treats you as his kid, and you love that, you love knowing that the Eraserhead is more than that to you. He’s your mentor, he’s the one who patches you up after missions, he’s the one that you can call for a ride at two in the morning. He’s Shota for you.

Of course, you aren’t the only one that finds him so much greater than others. You remember the U.S.J. incident, and how the villain there mentioned how cool Eraserhead was- or is. You aren’t sure where his feelings stand now. You remember how the villain looked at you when Shota protected you- how the villain’s eye that was visible behind the hand had widened with realization at who you were when your name was screamed. Ever since then, you’ve felt as if you've been watched, and no matter the amount of eyes that you took, you could never find whoever or whatever it was that was prying into your life. 

Now, you run alongside Eraserhead, clad in your own hero outfit that resembles his. Your boots splash against the puddles of water left from the rain. Air whips beside you, a strong hand gripping at your forearm lifts you into the air and you turn to see Eraserhead use his binding cloth to swing you both over a dumpster that was shoved into the way by the escaping villain. 

The villain with the blue hair turns sharply. You stumble into the ground when you’re drooped, hand indented and scratched with loose pebbles, and your nails scratch at the concrete as you give a sharp turn, watching the villain enter the building, 

“Shota!” Your wrists hurt, and the smell of wet trash is sticking to your clothes. “He went inside!” You push yourself forward, opening the door, only hearing your mentor’s words a second too late to hold on. 

The inside of the building is trashed- graffiti painted on the walls, empty boxes and flat cardboard littered across the floor, and surprisingly, a few of the fluorescent lights still work, giving the building an eerie glow. You turn yourself around, arms outstretched and balled into fists, eyes scanning the corners of the room, wishing that you had copied- you freeze. You see him, standing in the corner, concealed in the shadows. 

You take off towards him, and in a second, something wraps around your ankles and drops you to the floor. Your head smacks into the floor, and you howl in pain with tears in your eyes. Whatever it is that is wrapped around your ankle drags you and you squirm, unable to lift yourself up to undo whatever it is. Behind you, the door bangs open, and you stretch your neck to see Shota rush towards you, only for something to latch onto him, and pull him down, his head smacking into the floor.

“Shota!” Yelling only worsens the pain in your head, and your twist you body. Your palms smack against the floor, and you’re desperate to stop yourself. You're only able to watch as he lifts his head, arms outstretched towards you as he tries to raise himself up. You aren’t sure why he’s saying no, and your vision is beginning to blur around the edges. Bile is on your tongue, and something warm trickles down the side of your face. 

You barely register that it’s blood. 

Hands grab at your head and jerk you back into looking at the ceiling. You gasp, and twist upon yourself and you see him standing above you, his eye looking down at you and in your haze of blood and nausea, he looks monstrous. The hand that covers his face is menacing, and it seems like it's warping around him, distorting his features and you can’t register what’s going on around you.

Something cold holds onto your body and you think it’s death approaching, that the hit to your head was too harsh- it already feels as if your brain is spilling out and turning into mush inside of you. Shigaraki is above you, grabbing at your body, and you’re going cold, goosebumps rising over your body, and nails scratching at your skin. Your calves are bare and cold, but your thighs are constricted and you lift your head. In a cruel world, this is when your body returns to itself, and you watch as the villain undoes your pants and pulls them off, letting them dust off beside him. 

“No,” you mumble, lifting your hands and grabbing at the hem of your shirt and pulling it down. Your mind is catching up to what your eyes see, and you try to protect yourself, very much aware of how bare you’re becoming. “No, fuck,” you slur out, spit bubbling at the corner of your mouth as you start to take deep breaths. Something wraps around your ankle and drags you around the floor and you turn your head and kick out your legs, and you see Shota looking at you when you turn, and you freeze. 

He looks away the moment that you catch his eyes. 

“Look at me,” he hisses, and grabs you by the chin, making you look at him. “You only look away when I tell you to.” His hand wraps around your neck, and you take a sharp breath.

There’s a sharp pain that starts around your neck, it’s like your skin is being scraped slowly and painfully, each layer and centimeter pulled away quickly and it hurts. Tears are in your eyes and streaming down your face, and you’re calling for your mentor, nails on the concrete and blood dampening your hair. You scream, legs kicking into the ground and hands wrapped tight around a wrist, desperate to pull it away, and just like that, the harsh pain is numbed down, and your head is twisted to where Eraserhead is laid down, his hair standing on its ends, and eyes glowing. 

He’s looking at him.

He’s looking at you.

He’s being forced to watch whatever is about to happen.

He’s going to watch. 

The realization makes your intestines twist into a tight knot, and sweat forms under your arms and in the back of your knees. Your shirt is ripped from your body, the quality fabric torn as if it were nothing, made and held by weak stitches, and you try to cover the parts of yourself that you have only seen in the mirror. You try to fight and pull away, try to push yourself away from him, and in your injured body and weak mind, you are quickly overpowered by the villain above you. 

His hands roam your body, all five fingers dragging over every inch of exposed skin. It pulls on your underwear, dragging them to your ankles, a hand on your ankle, and the other fisting cloth into his nose as he takes a deep breath with his eyes shut. “Setting up the trap wasn’t all that difficult you know?” He pulls down his pants, boxers going down. His cock is semi-hard and you’re realizing that this isn’t a scare, it’s him making a point. The head is red, a gossamer string of precum leaking from his slit and dripping onto the inside of your thigh. It bobs into a stand as he tucks your underwear into his pocket, fabric peeking out to mock you. You hope that you pass out. “You both have enough enemies that they were more than happy to help.” His hands are on your chest, nails scratching down the valley between your breasts, and stopping above your belly button. “I wonder if they knew what I was planning to do.” He moves the hand away from his face and his smile is stretched thin, teeth slick with saliva and pointed like a monster.

His teeth latch onto your nipple, and he rolls the bud around with his teeth, squishing it between the bone and tugging it away. It’s uncomfortable, and you try to push him off, hands shoving him away, but it only has him grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock. Nails imbed themselves into his shoulders, flecks of red peeking between the skin and nail, and it does nothing to stop him from suckling so sweetly on your breasts.

Spit and tongue roll off your pert nipple, his cheeks hollow as he humps your body, the other hands pinching and groping the other breast. You can feel every roll and flex of the pink muscle, feel it be pushed and teased between teeth, and the stimulation between your breasts and the restless humping makes your cunt slick. He lets your breast go with a pop, and moves over to where the neglected teat is burning hot with blood and ache; his breath is hot over it, and you beg for him to stop.

“I love your tits so much,” he says. “I always jerk off to your photos, ya know.” And with that, he gives the same attention to the breast, suckling and teething, his cock hot and hard on the inside of your thigh.

Bruises coat your chest, a deep hue of blood that’s been rushed and flutters over to where he’s touched will serve as a reminder far past when you’ve cleaned his spit off of you. He licks your face, the tip of his tongue starting at your chin, and the flat of his tongue going up in a long stripe across his face. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way that his tongue felt on you.

You won’t forget how rough he was when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. It swipes across the roof of your mouth, across your teeth, and between your lips and teeth, running over the gums. His tongue is fat, spit pooling past the corner of your lips and running down your chin and over your jaw. Your heart beats fast in your chest, flutters like a captive bird, and you are aware of the eyes that are on you, how every second that you aren’t dead, is because you have an audience. 

Hands paw and slap against his chest as he deepens the kiss, so desperate to taste you that his own taste and stench will never leave you. Your cunt drips and stains the floor beneath you. His tongue is still in your mouth, invading and seeking over every inch that he can claim, and his cock rubs between your cunt, spreading your lips apart to rub his cockhead over your hardened clit, and he moans into the kiss.

“I wanted to wait until you were begging for me to fuck you,” he whispers, lips wet against yours, “but I need to feel you. Wanna stick my dick deep in your pussy,” he mumbles. 

He stretches you painfully, pushes his cockhead in and without waiting for you to adjust, slams his hips until they’re pressed against yours. You scream until your throat feels raw, and you cover your eyes, sniffling and crying, kicking your legs out and trying to think of anything other than the feeling of being ripped apart. “Fuck!” A string of curses taint the air between the three of you, and you’re left hearing him, how deep his voice goes, the way that it croaks and how desperate it is with every thrust that he gives to you.

“How do you think your mentor is going to look at you, huh?” His eyes are crazed and from his neck, a hue of red is blossoming, and he gives his entire being into pushing inside of you. “You think he’ll think of you the same as before? Or will- fuck-” He dips his head down and hides himself in the crook of your shoulder- “will he think of you as the slut sidekick who fucked a villain in front of him? Do you think he’ll jerk off and think about your tits being sucked on and hearing the sloppy noises that your pussy is making?”

You wheeze and gasp for air. He’s too heavy. He reeks of sweat and musk, and it’s filling your senses; your lungs are filled with him, he’s invading every inch of you, and no matter where you turn your head, you see him, and you feel him. 

“Shigaraki-” you hiccup- the soles of your boots digging into the concrete below- “please stop, please.” It’s getting harder to breathe, and you don’t know if you’ll survive into the next day. You worry about how long you’ll be trapped under him, how long you’ll feel him.

There’s a sharp pain when he pulls back and slams his hips into you. There’s no pacing, it's quick and brutal, already searching for his own high and grunting above you like an animal. “Say my name again.” You can feel his cock stretch you, the girth of it feeling as if it’s going to rip you apart, but that could also be how unprepared you were to take him. “I wanna hear you say my name when I fill your pussy with my cum.” You feel something thick and warm slide down your neck and over your shoulder. 

Your eyes widen, and you arch your back when his teeth bite at your neck. Your cunt squeezes around him, and you feel him shudder, moaning into you, stiffening and moaning loudly into your ear. You realize that he’s already finished, and yet he’s still inside of you, still erect and twitching his cock in you.

“‘M gonna fuck you over and over again till I’m drained,” he says so softly against the shell of your ears. “I want you to take my seed. Gonna push it so far up your cunt, wanna make sure that you always remember this day.” You cry, and he kisses away the tears, slowly pumping his cock into you- loud squelching sounds fill the room, and you feel his semen run down the inside of your thighs. “I don’t think I could ever forget this day. Every time I see you, I’m gonna think about your pussy and how wet you are.” He lifts his head and turns it over to face Eraserhead. “Can you hear them?” You refuse to look that way. “They’re clenching over my cock. I’m surprised you never laid them down and fucked them. You ever use your cloth on them? Bind their limbs and press them against a wall and use their pussy?” He’s gotten quicker, the mental image of your mentor doing something so perverse only adds to his arousal.

“When I escape, I swear I’ll-” 

Eraserhead is cut off by you. You can’t stand to hear him, so you wail, and hide yourself behind your hands. “Stop- please.” Your voice is muffled behind your hands, thick and slurred, your plead for him to stop talking. He won’t stop fucking you until he’s had his full, untill you’ve been filled, but you just need him to stop talking. Slowly, your body reacts to the stimulation, and the opening of your cunt doesn’t sting as much. 

The villain is monstrous, touching you softly, pinching at your nipples and stretching them until you yelp. His hands touch your body, and you’re surprised that Eraserhead has gone this long without blinking. “You feel so good,” he says, kissing you at the end, his tongue pushing into your mouth and swirling all over, pulling apart with a string of spit connecting the two of you. His face is flushed, and he looks down at you. “Fuck, I think I could fall in love with your pussy,” he says so earnestly. “So fucking glad that I got to fuck you.” You see the inside of his cheeks hollow, and he opens his mouth, a thick spring of drool pools out and is left on your cheek, sliding down to your hair. “If being a hero doesn’t work, ‘m sure someone will pay a fortune to sink their cock into your greedy pussy.”

You do your best to stop the growing arousal. You can’t muster up any coherent thoughts, other than a few babbling words that have you choking on your tears. 

“Tell him that you’re a slut,” he spits out. “Look at him and tell him how much you loved being fucked.” You start to plead for him to stop, that you won’t do that- that you can’t- but then he wraps his hand around your throat. “I may not be able to use my quirk, but I can still kill you,” he says in a low voice. “So turn your head and tell Eraserhead how much of a whore you are.”

Reluctantly, you turn your head and you choke on your words, your chest sputtering and heart beating rapidly as if it were going to burst out of your chest. “I’m a-” you stutter- “I’m a slut. You focus on Earserhead’s forehead, trying to not pay attention at how strained and exhausted he looks from having his head slammed to the ground and having to keep his quirk active for so long. “I’m a whore,” you sob. 

“Yell my name. Tell him how much you love having your pussy stuffed with my cock.”.

“I love having my-” you sob, turning and shaking your head, unable to keep going, but you’re met with a slap across your face that has your cheek pulsing and burning with blood. You wheeze and your head is forced to turn to face your mentor. “I love having my pussy stuffed with Shiaragki’s cock.” 

“Say it again,” he moans, slamming his hips into yours, his movements slowly turning sloppy. “I want you to yell it out loud.”

“I love Shigaraki’s cock! I love his cock so much,” you wail, thighs clenching and legs kicking out.” 

He gives your clit a sharp slap, making you wince and clench around him, jerking your hips to meet his. “Look at him and tell him that.” You look at him with wide eyes. “Tell your mentor how much you love my cock- how you love the feeling of it. Do it before I decide to choke you.”

You squint your eyes shut, and take a shuddering breath before turning over to look at Eraserhead. The tears in your eyes that stream down, only help so much to obscure your vision. “I love Shiagaraki’s cock! I love how it feels inside of me!”

“Fuck!” He curses out. He’s getting close and you hope that this will be the end. “Tell him how you’re a fucking slut. How you want me to fuck you like a whore. How you love villain cock and want my villain cum in your greedy pussy,” he commands, wrapping his hand around your throat.

You hesitate and his hand tightens around you, nails breaking your skin, until you’re choking and flailing your limbs. “I’m a slut,” you cough out, spitting wetting the floor beneath you. With each raggedy breath, you say a vile sentence out loud, hoping that he’ll ejaculate into you already. “I want Shigaraki to fuck me like a whore.” The knot in your stomach is starting to tighten, and you kick your legs out, clenching your cunt around his cock. “I love villain cock and I want Shigaraki to cum in my greedy pussy,” you bawl, biting down on your lip when you feel your high finally start to tear through your body.

Your body tenses and a rush of water spills out of you, spraying over him and your left crying on the floor as the villain pumps into you. “Ha!” He laughs manically. “Did you see that Earserhead? They’re a squirter!”

Left sensitive, your body shakes and twitches, the inside of your cunt, wet and squishy with your arousal and his seed. He kisses you again, and wet, sloppy kisses peppered over your face, as he moans out your name, and lets his weight fall above you. You’re crushed, and his hand squirms between the two of you, letting the flat of his hand rest over the soft swell of your stomach.

“Your pussy really is the best,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your cheek as his cock twitches it’s own arousal into you.

His weight is heavy above you, crushing your chest and suffocating you. With him still inside of you, you can feel his cock twitch and leak something inside of you. The fluorescent lights make your head hurt. You feel his lips press against the side of your face and tears slide down to wash where his lips have touched you. His hand cups over your breast, and pinches at the abused nipple. You feel him smile when you let out a whine.

“You felt so good,” he mumbles. “I wish I could keep you- fuck you whenever I wanted and kiss you whenever.” You feel heavy.

The weight disappears and he lifts you up, your body limp like a doll, and your mind empty, eyes staring into nothing. He drags you with him, nails digging into your wrist and there’s something leaking out of you, a thick warm trail sliding down the inside of your thigh as your feet stumble on the ground. His breath is warm beside the shell of your ear, and it makes your skin burn, feeling like a rash is breaking out and spreading itself down your neck and flaming your chest. You’re let go, and you fall without support and the pain on your knees and the slamming of the door brings you back to reality. 

Your eyes dart around the room until you find your mentor, still staring at you, legs bound to the floor and nails scraped with crimson tinting at his fingertips. You’re not sure what to do. A breath fills your lungs, and it quickly leaves. Another enters, sharper and shakier, and your breaths are heavy, chest rising and falling, with tears welling in your eyes and dripping down your cheeks and landing on your chest. Your arms wrap around your body, nails scratching at the exposed skin and scratching down, desperate to peel away what he’s touched. 

Screams are muffled by your hand, legs pinched tight and eyes staring at the ground that’s covered in grime. You can feel his heaviness on you, and you want the ground to swallow you, to open a cavern underneath you and let you fall into nothingness. 

Time has passed and your throat is sore. There's a lump in your throat, and you can feel how raw it is, the iron thin on your tongue, and the queasiness that’s making itself known in your stomach is threatening to spill past your hand and onto your knees.  You want to walk away, and wash the blood, grime, and spit off of you. You want to scoop out whatever it is that he’s filled you with and let it wash down the drain into the pipes and never see the light of day again. 

But you can’t leave yet. With shaky legs, you stand and hold yourself against the wall for a moment, before walking towards your mentor where he lays trapped. His eyes have looked away, and they don’t look at you as you rest your hand on the makeshift trap. You shut your eyes tight when your hands turn pale and nails turn chipped and sharp as the trap disintegrates into ash. He finally turns to you, and you look away. You jump when his jacket is placed over you.

“Wait here.” His voice is quiet, and you can feel the heaviness of his hand pat at the top of your head and pull away when you shy away from his touch. He mumbles an apology that you don’t respond to. “I’m going to get you clothes and then I’ll take you home. Just wait here.” The door closes with a slam and you’re left alone.

[beauty-and-passion]

CCCC Vol.1 - Cacophony: back into one (5/5)

Wow, we’ve reached the end of the Cacophony act!

Let’s recap the story until now:

Mind and Heart try to cooperate, then start drifting apart because of their natural differences

The Juno incident fucks everything up

Heart surrenders to apathy, he leaves Mind in full control of the vessel

Mind berates Heart whenever he can, trying to get a reaction out of him. He fails so much, in the end, he thinks Heart is nothing more than a virus that should be removed.

And since now things can become truly dangerous, Soul finally intervenes.

<- Previous post - First post

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The Soul Eclectic: the real ultimatum

* Soul’s nature

Heart is associated with “acoustic” to emphasize his connection with songs and Mind with “electric” to emphasis his nature as “cynical machine”. Soul, on the other hand, is associated with “eclectic”, to point out how broad and variegated his nature is.

He admits this firsthand, by saying “you can call me whatever”.

* Soul’s leading role

While Mind and Heart fight and bicker about who the leader is, Soul simply appears and:

scolds them both like kids (“Call me your host or call me insane/If that will help you stay in line”)

reminds them that no matter who the leader is, they still answer to him

reminds them that neither of them can control the Soul

calls them parasites living inside of him and scolds them again for nothing useful aside from their constant bickering

Mind or Heart might fight for leadership, but Soul is clearly a superior power - some sort of authoritarian/adult figure who controls the other two.

And yes, he’s not nice to them at all, but he said it since Dream: he’s tired of their bickering.

* Soul’s awareness

Soul is more aware than Heart and Mind about how right and wrong they are. Why each of them tries to insist that they’re 100% right and the other is 100% wrong, Soul can see that it’s more of a 50/50. He has a more detached, external view to their discussion - and a more objective one.

Also, he can see that they’re exhausting themselves: in order to win their stupid war at all costs, all they do is deteriorating their vessel.

And since Soul doesn’t want to destroy the vessel and resort to suicide, all he can do is give a real, final ultimatum. They have one last chance to cooperate. If they fail again, Soul will bring both of them down with him. And unlike Mind or Heart, who are equally powerful and thus cannot bring the other down, Soul proved he’s more powerful than them. So if Soul wants to destroy them both, he can definitely do it.

_______________________________

The Bidding: the reunification

There are four things in particular that got stuck with me here:

1) For the first and only time, Heart talks shit about Mind. He calls him “the piece of shit”, admits he stole his throne (aka his leader role) and even points out Mind never was the ruler - probably referring to a moment before the time loop (maybe the same Mind hinted in Be Born).

And Souls not only confirms that, but he points out it doesn’t really matter who the leader is, because neither Heart nor Mind can fully control him.

So the leader position is basically useless. Heart and Mind are equal. Sometimes, one can be more prominent than the other, but that’s it, they still won’t overcome Soul.

And if it sounds very realistic, it’s because it is.

2) All Soul needs is to confirm they will die today if they do not harmonize and bam, Heart and Mind find a way to harmonize. Talking about being persuasive and the true leader.

3) The harmonization happened over this line:

“Your silence (violence) deafens more than any sound”

Heart and Mind managed to find common ground only while stating their mutual distaste for each other. And yet, this is a step forward, because while stating “yes, I don’t like you”, they also point out the core reason why they do not like each other. The foundation of that mutual distaste.

For Heart, it’s Mind’s silence: that same silence from Night, after Heart asked Mind “What do you want?”. The silence that made his anxieties rise, that convinced him of Mind’s dangerous goals. The same silence that pushed Heart to act and led to the Juno incident.

For Mind, it’s Heart’s violence: the same violence we talked about in The Mind Electric, the violence that struck Mind the most because he was supposed to work with this guy and yet not only Heart tried to kill him, but even dug a hole for him.

And by pointing them out at the same time, they managed to switch perspective and see the problem from the other side’s point of view. Heart saw his own violence, Mind saw the effect of his own silence. It’s extremely clever and Chonny made it even more clever with the switching colors.

4) As soon as they harmonize, Soul immediately drops the suicidal thoughts and rejoices. It was a weak attempt, it wasn’t very harmonious either, but it happened and that’s what matters the most. No matter how flawed it was, they still managed to do it.

As I said in my first post, it’s very typical of people with suicidal tendencies to drop the idea of suicide and immediately latch to a possible hope, no matter how small it is. And since Soul is closer and more similar to Chonny than the other sides, it makes sense he shows this kind of behavior. Heck, he even begs the other two sides to try again to harmonize. He, who was sick and tired of their constant bickering, who was ready to resort to suicide, as soon as he found some hope, immediately got his strength and his will to try again.

And no, it’s not weird, because it’s the same thing that happened in Dream: right from his very first song, Soul showed how tired he is, but also how hopeful he is. And if there is even one small possibility of success, he wants to give it a try. He did it with the time loop, he’s doing it again now.

_______________________________

Light: blurring the lines

*Soul’s payoff: as soon as Soul decides they should blur the lines, Mind and Heart’s rhythms change: Heart’s becomes more robotic, Mind’s becomes softer. I don’t know you, but to me that looks like another confirmation that Soul is the most powerful of the three sides.

And his hard work is finally paying off: by switching perspectives, Heart and Mind can better understand each other, to the point they manage to unify and Chonny as a whole can finally sing.

*Whole!Chonny is incredibly human: he’s the perfect representation of an ex-suicidal on the road to recovery. He still sees his flaws and imperfections, he’s still a “sad sulking mess”. But the negative, dark, pessimistic feelings are taking a step back, because of the overwhelming optimism born from the previous spark of hope in The Bidding. Going over something as dreadful as the idea to die makes the will to live grow stronger - consequently, the love for life increases too, as well as all positive, optimistic feelings. Even if things are still far from perfect, the mere idea of being alive is enough to push Chonny forward and convince himself things can go well.

_______________________________

We’re Gonna Win: a positive perspective

*Connection to Sanders Sides: after so many songs in which they were always at each other’s throat, Heart and Mind finally comes to the realization all they need is each other.

This heavily reminds me of the song Family of Me, from Thomas’ playlist. The interpretation I gave at the time is the same of this song: even if you’re physically alone, you’re never truly alone, because there will always be these parts of you at your side. Friends and family can disappear, love can fade, but your own self will never betray, nor leave you alone.

*Building confidence: If you think it’s a lonely though, consider this from the point of view of an ex-suicidal as Chonny: knowing that, no matter what, you’re never truly alone reassures you a lot. You’re not left to deal with these dark thoughts by yourself, there is always someone who loves, cares and supports you. It calms you, it reassures you - and it makes you more confident. You won’t fear being alone anymore, because you have yourself.

*After a heartbreak: this realization helps a lot especially after an heartbreak. Heartbreaks tend to make people feel weak, wrong, incomplete. But once you realize you’re not alone because you have yourself and yourself is all you need, then the ex isn’t so essential anymore. You can survive without them. Chonny survived without them. And if he’s alive now, it’s thanks to his own strength, not a loved one. Hence, he can face everything now.

*A burning passion for art: as soon as Chonny realizes he can do anything, he immediately reconfirms his love for songwriting and states he wants to make his own songs, until the day he dies. What a perfect representation of what the love for art is.

_______________________________

Two Wuv: the religious theme

We can’t have psychological stories without a sprinkle of religion.

This album makes it very clear that Chonny was/is a dark, depressed, disheartened person. A person who thought and talked about his dark thoughts, suicide and how bad he was feeling.

And yet, when he did it, the people around him failed to understand, help or accept him: they told him to cheer up, to stop talking about this, to “play the happy song”.

Is it so hard to believe that some religious figure told him the same? That instead of offering him the solace he needed, condemned him for being who he is and for his thoughts? That instead of helping, they made it worse?

So, Chonny taking a stand is very, very brave. He doesn’t just admit his flaws to himself, but he does it to the people around them, his family and religion itself. He goes against those huge old institutions to reaffirm who he is, flawed and all.

And, honestly, this is closer to Jesus’ original message, than the religious teachings he probably got. It’s more Christian to love someone for who they are, as long as they’re good people at heart, than judging people according to labels and arbitrary rules.

_______________________________

Variations on a Cloud: synchronized harmonies

Chonny is a lot more confident now. The Bidding started an “optimistic wave” that led him to a bigger understanding of himself and a higher self-esteem. He’s even strong enough to face the people in his life and show himself for who he is - the imperfect, flawed, human person he is.

But still, no matter how flawed he can be, he’s not alone. He has his sides with him, a “tridental sovereignty” helping and supporting him.

So, he shows this by letting them sing and showing us how they all work together now. Sure, they may have slightly different lines, but there is harmony. They are moving together in the same direction.

And so, since they’re all on the same page, they make the same ask: to “keep it coming back”. But back to what?

In the original song, this line was about memories. And here I think the meaning is the same: they are asking Chonny to remember. To revisit what happened, in order to find a closure. Now they’re together, they’re harmonized: they are strong enough to do it.

So Chonny does it and goes back to the start.

_______________________________

The Whole World & You (Outro from Cacophony): a meta retrospective

We have several voices here, all explaining what happened during this arc and drawing their conclusions:

*Chonny (alongside Heart) reconfirms his goal was the same as the Q&A: he wanted to sing about love and duality, the “blues and greens”, his dark thoughts. He wanted to better understand himself. And, if you remember, this exploration of himself always went hand in hand with a sense of inadequacy, because he was just making covers, “singing songs someone already sung”, not writing new ones. Everything he said was “trite”.

But now, he’s finally at peace with this. He made covers and he loves to do them.

*Mind reveals it was all a test. He never forgot the original goal to become one, never. He simply played a part: Heart was Dr. Jekyll, so he just played Mr. Hide. And since Hide is the villain, Mind played the role of a villain.

Honestly? I believe him. Because, for the entire Cacophony, Mind kept trying to get a reaction out of Heart. He repeated he wasn’t a villain, trying to make him understand he’s not the bad guy. He kept blaming and scolding Heart, trying to get something out of him. And when the insults didn’t help, he moved to actual threats, hoping those would do the trick.

But also: Mind really really wanted that leadership position. And the way he kept pointing out how Heart “dug a hole for him” showed some real hurt. So maybe yes, it was all a plan. But this plan definitely had some personal components.

*Soul can finally relax. He endured Heart and Mind, he managed to make them harmonize. He’s on the other side of the time loop now, the worst is in the past. Things will be easier from now on.

In fact, this is the end of the “lore-packed” act. Now Chonny will “go back”, as his sides asked. He will talk about the past, himself and his work.

But before doing that, he offers his thanks to his Muse, the inspiration behind his work: Tally Hall, the original authors of these songs. After all, without them and their songs, this album wouldn’t exist either.

So just like a book starts with the credits, Chonny starts reminiscing his story with the credits as well.

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[louiseolivier]

Her name is Everett Buckley-Kinard

I don't have a middle name right off the top, but maybe Madeline in homage to Maddie? (Yes, I know Maddie is only Maddie) Everett Madeline Buckley-Kinard is a mouthful, but that makes sense since she's a handful.

Idk how they find her or she finds them, but they find each other and the second he sees her, Tommy is in love. He is all in on being a dad. He reads books and blogs and articles and finds most of them to be bullshit mixed with common sense information. He tries all this first-time parent stuff and quickly realizes that it's more work than it needs to be. He was making homemade baby food and tried to use cloth diapers. He's one of those parents who has professional portraits taken each month for the first 2 years of the kid's life. Disgusting shit really.

Buck loves Ev, Evie, or Rhett (def not Rhett) also, but he's more hesitant about the dad thing. Having someone so dependent on him terrifies him. He's scared of fucking it up, but he loves her, he loves Tommy, and he loves and wants this family so bad, so even though it takes a minute he figures out his place. Surprisingly, he's the sane one. He still has checklists for milestones and watches hours of braiding tutorials when she's older, but he wasn't the one who bought a motorized jeep when Everett was still too young to hold her head up.

Having an infant is stressful, but the boys find their groove and life is pretty sweet...until Ev learns to crawl. Now the only mission this child seems to have is to die. What's this on the ground? She's going to put it into her mouth. Stairs? No prob, she's going to climb them. Hey, what if she just rolls into the road? This kid doesn't have an ounce of fear or self-preservation and it doesn't get any better when she reaches toddlerhood.

Buck does his best to roll with the punches (literally, because she's always moving and has clocked him in the face a few times), but it leaves Tommy an anxious mess.

At least once a week, Tommy wakes up in a cold sweat from a nightmare of Evie (and it's pronounced Eh-ve) encountering a tiger, or a bear, or a kangaroo (ever since Tommy saw a video of a guy fighting off a kangaroo to save his dog, he's been low key terrified of them. Why are they so jacked?). Sometimes he can fall back asleep, but other times he hides in the bathroom or the closet to cry out his fear.

Evan isn't oblivious or deaf, because Tommy isn't as slick or as quiet as he thinks he is. Evan leaves him alone because he understands the cathartic need, but after more than a month, he worries about Tommy's mental health. The next time it happens Buck gets out of bed and sits beside Tommy between their garment-bagged dress blues and holds him while he cries it out. Hell, Buck cries with him.

They talk and it doesn't take much convincing to get Tommy to see a doctor. He's prescribed an SSRI and after 12 weeks his anxiety and crying jags reduce significantly. Buck releases a sigh of relief when he realizes the change...which was a little premature when Everett decides two days later that she has to climb a bookcase.

She doesn't get far, but she somehow pulls the shelf out enough to dump the contents on top of her. There is blood and bruises, but her screams are what grips Buck the most and buries itself inside of him. Even hours later, after Tommy patches her up and rocks her to sleep, cooing all those pet names he hasn't used once with Buck (baby, sweetie, honey, sweet girl), Buck finds he can't escape the echo of her screams. He decides it's his turn to cry it out in the closet.

It's not all bad. It's not even 20% bad. It's pretty blissful, so it's no surprise when Everett is two, in her baby carrier strapped to Tommy's chest, both wearing matching aviator sunglasses, that Buck gets an itch. An inkling that maybe it was time to add to their little family, but that is a discussion for another day.

[intergalactic-garbage]

okay that's it, i've had enough, i'm singlehandedly forcing the kane chronicles fandom to life. i'm tired of "why is it so underrated" and no actual content. fuck you.

brooklyn house canonical facts + headcanons

five stories high, on top of an abandoned warehouse, mist covering it to most mortals.

neighbours of the dare mansion

the great room is at the ground level, but its ceiling stretches out way to the top. the floors in between have balconies looking out into the great room. in the festive season, fairy lights get hung around the balconies.

the walls are decorated with a strange assortment of musical instruments from all across time and the globe and ancient egyptian weapons, as well as drawings and crafts by the inhabitants. it started with mostly the ankle biters making art, and amos sticking it on the wall, but when rachel came over to visit one time, the kids saw her drawing something, and soon enough, zia came home with groceries to find a great room full of kids happily drawing and rachel complimenting them and giving them tips.

thanks to the many instruments collected over the years, many brooklyn house inhabitants have picked up playing one or multiple of them in their spare time. it's quite common to hear music and singing coming from the big room.

there's an enormous fireplace (big enough to park a car) with a plasma-screen TV above the mantel. the kids have begged amos enough times to get a netflix subscription, and he finally did. when julian moved in and discovered this, he was appaled, and nearly immediately started working on making a tv collection through torrents and downloads.

it's flanked by two leather sofas, which are lined with throw pillows and plush animals (sean has taken a liking in making them in his spare time. he even makes some of the gods).

the trainees often leave their hoodies, phones, laptops and other belongings around, and it often becomes a mess. carter has had to implement a penalty system for left behind belongings, because otherwise there wouldn't be any room to move in there.

the great room is so huge, one could, theoretically, comfortably ride a bike around. no, none of the trainees, certainly not sean and alyssa have ever tried it, why do you ask? sadie certainly didn't see them and encourage them, and she certainly didn't get caught by zia encouraging them to do some tricks

the entrance to the library is on the first floor, but the library itself is much further down and one must traverse a three-story long flight of stairs to reach it. the walls are filled with cubbyholes holding scrolls, resembling the inside of a beehive.

the walls of the library are decorated with pictures of gods, monsters, and people in all different colors. sadie and sean have tried to replace every picture with a photograph of themselves, postitoned in the same way as the original (in a bet with walt, of course), but eventually got caught by cleo. the ground is decorated to resemble the body of geb (god of the earth), and the ceiling to his wife, nut (goddess of the sky).

at each of the four compass points stands a shabti, who each have the duty of maintaining particular subjects and when asked will fetch any scroll, palette, or other egyptian artifact, and are capable of retrieving translated texts.

cleo, who is in charge of the library, has gotten to know all of them by name, and often chats to them to see if they remember anything from the long years they have been in the library of the brooklyn house. surprisingly, although they are knowledgable about ancient times, they love to discuss contemporary literature. one of them is very partial to 80s harlequinn novels. cleo, a true tumblr girlie, has introduced them to my immortal. reactions were... mixed.

they take turns cooking - once, julian and alyssa tried making a shabti to cook for them, but unfortunately, it ended with the smoke detector going absolutely haywire. they've decided that it might just be easier to cook themselves, for the time being.

the training room, about the size of a basketball court (which is its secondary use), takes up most of the second floor. it has a hardwood floor, statues of the gods lining the walls, and a vaulted ceiling with pictures of ancient egypt (how come they got a vaulted ceiling when there's three other floors above? i have no idea. magic, i suppose.)

on the baseline walls, they stuck falcon-headed statues of ra perpendicular to the floor, ten feet up, and hollowed out their sun-disk crowns to use them for basketball hoops.

the third and fourth floors are a collection of guest rooms, enough to easily house a hundred people, some of which are adjoined. they are outfitted with a kitchen and a bathroom (often stocked with the user's favorite snacks or toiletries as applies). each room also has a closet that is typically stocked with clothes made from linen, cotton, or other non-animal materials.

most of the magicians are in their teens or younger, so the process of making their rooms feel like home is usually pretty quick. still, it's true that many a time, inhabitants will fall asleep on the couch in the great room, or join each other in their rooms to have sleepovers, especially when nightmares get bad (and believe me, they do).

a terrace wraps around the house on the level of the second floor. there's a dining table and chairs, where meals often take place in good weather.

the terrace also has a pool, in which the pet albino crocodile, phillip of macedonia lives. felix has gotten more and more skilled at turning it into ice. him and phillip have a sort of game where felix freezes him, and phillip tries to break out of the ice. it's all in good spirit, and both of them know, but carter had to get used to it; the first few times he saw them doing that, he immediately pulled out his wand. amos chuckled heartily and pat him on the shoulder.

the roof (above the fourth floor) is where the portal is located, as well as a stable for freak the griffin (which carter built)

on the ground floor, there's a sauna as well as a steam room. a handful of inhabitants, especially alyssa, like to use it to calm down after a day's work.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 4b

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 3390

TW: Angst; end of relationship drama.

AN: The prompt was "I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!"

Sonny wasn’t sure that there was anything more he could do, but he thought about you all the time.  As a public defender, there was always a good chance that you’d drift through the precinct, your heels clicking on the tiled floor and your jaw set and ready to brawl with Barba.  When it happened, Sonny could only watch in admiration at how relentless you were. 

And if he enjoyed the way your various twill or Italian wool skirts fit you like a glove, no one needed to know about that other than god and the priest who heard his confession.

He didn’t have anyone to talk to, really.  Amanda was a lost cause, too wrapped up in her own issues.  And Sonny wondered if she’d ever really loved anyone or been in a real relationship.  She seemed to go through men – no shame – but there was no common ground between that and a committed relationship.

The best support he had was Bella and, god help him, her fiancée Tommy.  Sonny had never been much of a fan of Tommy’s, but the man had gotten his life in order after a stint in jail for drug charges.  He worked hard and loved Bella, which was the best Sonny could hope for his sister.  And now that she was pregnant, he hoped it would be enough.

Sonny went over to the couple’s place one Saturday night to cook for them.  Tommy was a lost cause in the kitchen, and Bella was well into the third trimester – complete with swollen feet and a ravenous appetite for their ma’s chicken marsala recipe.  Sonny was only too happy to oblige.

After dinner (said chicken marsala, a mixed green salad, and crusty rolls – all wolfed down by Bella with an appetite that made Sonny smile), the trio sat in the tiny living room and sipped the rest of the red wine that Sonny had brought.  Bella helped herself to half a glass; Sonny had objected, but Bella had given him an earful about how her doctor said that half a glass of red had heart benefits that outweighed the negligible potential bad side effects, and furthermore, if he was such a fucking expert on pregnancy, he was more than welcome to carry the future Baby Sullivan for the next month and a half.  Sonny had looked to Tommy for support halfway through her tirade, but the man wisely averted his eyes and carefully studied the label of the wine bottle until Bella was spent.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, then Sonny’s younger sister asked, as if she hadn’t just yelled at him, how Sonny was doing.  Just like when they were kids:  screaming and pinching each other one minute, friends the next.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but Bella saw right through it.

“Liar.  You look tired.  You sleeping?”

Sonny shrugged.  “Usually.  Some of the stuff I see at work makes it hard.”

Tommy made a sympathetic noise – he had been assaulted repeatedly by his own parole officer and was in therapy as a result, so he knew at least a taste of what SVU dealt with.

“You need someone to go home to,” Bella declared with authority. 

Sonny winced and tried to hide it behind a sip of wine, but his sister caught it. 

“You seeing anyone?” she asked.  “It’s been a while since you got dumped.”

He ducked his head and considered not telling Bella about your recent reappearance in his life but decided to go ahead and tell her.  She’d find out anyway, and maybe she could offer some insight from the female perspective.  When you’d broken up with him over a year ago, Sonny had leaned heavily on his younger sister, crying to her about the loss of you.

So he told her all the news:  how you marched into the precinct one day as a public defender, how you went to lunch with him and accused him of emotionally cheating with Amanda, how you made polite small talk with him and sometimes looked sad when you saw him.  How he didn’t know what to do now.

“She probably still has my number blocked,” he finished.  “And I doubt she’ll go to another lunch with me.  I see her all the time now but can’t get through to her.  I wish…I wish I could just let her know how I really feel.”  He sighed and scrubbed his hands down across his face.  “I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!”

Tommy made that sympathetic clucking again, and Bella looked sad too.  You had only met Sonny’s entire family once, but you’d spent time with Bella a handful of times after the two of you clicked instantly.  Sonny had pictured a future where the two of you were married, and Bella and Tommy were married, and your respective children could grow up together, cousins as close as siblings. 

“Well, if you can’t talk to her or call her, you could always write her a letter,” Tommy offered.  He rarely spoke up at Carisi gatherings, and both Sonny and Bella looked at him in surprise.  Tommy shrugged.  “You know, at least you can get your feelings out on paper.  You don’t have to send the letter.  But if you do….” He trailed off, uncomfortable.

Bella cocked her head at her fiancée.  “That’s actually a good idea,” she said, and Tommy beamed.  They both turned and looked at Sonny expectantly.

“Maybe,” he conceded. 

“C’mon,” Bella wheedled.  She punched him lightly in the arm.  “Girls love romantic gestures like that.  And who writes love letters anymore?”

“Maybe,” he repeated, but he was already composing the opening lines.

-----

He typed out all of the drafts on his personal laptop, revising and rewriting and sometimes deleting and starting over entirely.  It took him a week to get a final version ready.

He thought about Bella’s line about romantic gestures and stopped at a stationary store.  He bought some nice, heavy paper edged in a dark blue that reminded him of the sweater you were wearing when he first met you.  He bought a nice pen too, and then he got to work.

If you hadn’t gone to that lunch with him and opened up a bit about where you had been when you broke up with him, Sonny would never even consider writing you a letter.  But you had, and it had given him a slender bit of hope that you’d be open to hearing more from him.

It took a few tries.  His cursive was out of practice, and the first few attempts resulted in misspellings and ink blots.  He kept writing it out until it was perfect though, even if his hand was cramped and aching from writing so much.  Bella was right – who wrote love letters anymore?  If he couldn’t give you anything else, he could at least give you one, perfect love letter.  You deserved that much, at least.

*******

You were feeling great – you had spent the morning at a sexual cybercrimes conference.  You had seen Barba, implied that his coworker O’Dwyer was smarter than him, and then delighted at how offended he looked.  Of all the ADAs you had to deal with on a regular basis, Barba was your favorite to wind up.  You practically skipped back to your office, where a mountain of new cases waited for you.

You shut the door to your office and shed your suit jacket in the airless little room.  You kicked off your heels and slipped into a pair of sandals and settled into your chair. 

You started with the interoffice mail:  standard memos and policy changes and an updated public defender contact list.  There was a retirement card being passed around for an older paralegal who was ready to hang it all up and move to Boca Raton. 

You moved on to your regular mail.  There was the usual junk that slipped past your admin.  A plea for a donation from Fordham.  Some letters from past clients. 

At the bottom of the stack was a manila envelope with your name printed carefully across the front.  No return address – another client, probably.  You opened it and slid out another envelope of heavy, creamy paper.  Your name was written across the face in familiar handwriting.  Your stomach dipped when you recognized it.  Sonny.

You thought about tearing it open then and there, but you got a call to go to the 5th precinct, so you tucked it into your satchel.  It was probably safer to read it at home anyway.

-----

The letter sat in your bag like unexploded ordinance, but you got through the day.  You rushed home, skipped dinner, and poured yourself a tumbler of wine to the brim.  You settled onto your couch, took a deep breath, and opened the letter. 

The paper was heavy stock and gorgeous.  The handwriting was careful – nicer than Sonny’s usual scrawled signature or block printed notes from college.  He’d obviously put time and thought into whatever he wanted to say.  So you took another breath, took a few deep swallows of wine, and read it.  It said:

You probably think that we first met when we both went bowling with our mutual friends, but that wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen you.  The first time I saw you, we were in the same class a semester earlier – Investigative Criminal Procedures.  It was a huge lecture hall, and you always sat about five rows ahead of me.  Of course I noticed you, because you are beautiful, but it was a fight you had with the professor that made me realize how much of that beauty came from deep within you.  Maybe you remember?  Professor Graham had some controversial thoughts about search and seizure, and you shot your hand up, didn’t bother to wait for him to call on you, and then you launched into an impassioned tirade that tore every one of his points apart.

My first thought after that class was that if I ever was in trouble with the law, I was going to hire you as my lawyer.  My second thought was that I was certain that I loved you.

When I finally met you that night at bowling, you see, I already was in love with you.  And you were so friendly and happy, laughing at your own terrible score – I only fell harder.  When I went home that night, I made a vow that I’d make you mine, and for a blessed while, I had.  But I lost my way, and I lost you in the process.

I don’t want to dwell on what I did wrong because I replay it every day of my life.  I just want you to know that I regret, every day, how I neglected you.  How I took you for granted.  How I assumed that you’d wait around for me to get my act together.  How I didn’t put you first or make you feel how special you are to me.  I’ll always regret how I failed you.

But I want to say all the things now that I should have told you when we were together. 

You are, as I said, beautiful, both inside and out.  You always manage to make my heart stop every time I see you, whether you’re in your work suits or in your comfortable pajamas.

You have so many amazing things going for you.  You’re easily the smartest person I know, and you have both book smarts and common sense.  You’re always able to get to the easiest solution to a problem.  You’re abilities in the courtroom as a public defender just proves this.

You have an amazing sense of humor.  You always seem to be able to find the humor in the situation, and you always made me laugh.  And you manage to tease people in a way that builds them up and doesn’t tear them down.  It’s a gift.

You have an amazing heart.  You always show care for your clients, and before that, care for your friends, for me, and even for the strangers who cross your path.  You never seem to judge – you give the homeless man money with the same love you give to your friends when they need you.  I love that about you.  You don’t make people work for your love:  you just give it freely, even when they don’t deserve it.  You certainly gave it to me far longer than I deserved it.

If I had to describe you in a single word, it’d be “rock.”  You were always my steady foundation, my touchstone for when things seemed too hard.  You supported me when I wanted to give up on law school.  You supported me when the NYPD was moving me from precinct to precinct and I wanted to give up on being a detective.  You saw me at my worst moments and kept me grounded and gave me hope.  Sometimes I felt my faith failing me, but I never stopped believing in you.  And no matter what happens, I never will.  

More than anything, I want to you know – really know – that I loved you then and I love you still.  I know why you probably won’t believe that, but it is true.  I know I didn’t give you enough proof of that fact, and I regret it.  I know that you think there was another woman with a place in my heart, but that wasn’t the case and still isn’t the case.  How could there be room for anyone else there, when you took it so utterly and completely?  And when you have it still?

I hope this letter did not upset you.  It was not my intention if it did.  These are all things I should have said a long time ago, when I still had you, and it’s no one’s fault but my own that I have to write them down and send them to you now. 

If nothing else, I want you to know that I loved you completely then, that I love you completely now, and for the rest of my life, I’ll love you just as much.  And as such, I want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like. 

It was signed, “love always, Sonny.”  But you could barely read it through the tears streaming down your face.

You probably read it twelve more times before you went to bed, and since you were unable to sleep, you read it twelve times more.

-----

You saw Sonny across the courtroom a week later, but he just nodded at you and gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his bright blue eyes.  You nodded back and smiled. 

You were working on your own response, in letter form to keep it true to his own letter.  You approached it a lot like your law work – you wrote out an outline and built it from there.

It took you a few weeks to craft the perfect response, and you carried it in your bag for another week.  You didn’t want to mail it to him.  You figured, after the way you’d dumped him, you owed him a hand-delivered letter.  It was the least you could do, especially after he made the ballsy move of even reaching out at all.  And you had to admit that there was something romantic about getting a love letter.  It was a stark contrast to your last attempt at dating, when a guy you’d gone on a first date with texted you a week later with an unimpressive dick pic.

Then you got a call about a client in the 16th who was arrested and about to face arraignment in a day.  You checked your bag and made sure the letter was there.  If you saw Sonny, you vowed to hand it to him then and there.

********

Sonny was tortured by that stupid letter.  You never responded.  He knew deep-down that you might ignore it, but he had some stubborn hope that you’d reach out to him.  He had a stupid, recurring fantasy where you rushed over to his apartment in the middle of the night after reading his letter, tearfully admitting that you still loved him too. 

He saw you once in court, and you nodded at him in greeting but didn’t say anything.  He resigned himself to finally admitting that it was over.  But at least you knew how he felt.  Maybe it gave you some comfort or closure.

-----

It was another grey day in Manhattan.  Well, it was July and sunny, but Sonny didn’t feel particularly up to his nickname.  Amanda was just starting to show in her surprise pregnancy, and she was an irritable, nauseous mess.  Fin and Liv had collared a potential serial date rapist who was preying on Hudson University students, and he sat in the interrogation room after asking for a lawyer.

The elevator dinged, and Sonny heard the familiar click of heels.  He felt his stomach drop while his heart soared, an uncomfortable feeling.  The feeling of possibility that would probably just disappoint him.

You breezed past him and Amanda and strode into the interrogation room where Barba was waiting.  Sonny heard first some low voices, then louder ones as you and Barba got warmed up and then traded snappy retorts as you tried to find a compromise.  Everyone, including Sonny, knew how to read the situation now:  if you marched out with your head tilted and Barba strolled out scowling, it was no deal.  If you marched out with a smile and Barba strolled out scowling, there was a deal.

Today?  You marched out with your head tilted in defiance, and Barba fell in step with you for a few strides, trying to salvage some deal.  Sonny smiled to see it.  Barba never seemed flustered by anything, but you had a way of making the ADA seem rattled.  You just shook your head at him….until your eyes fell on Sonny.

You started to smile, but your eyes slid over to Amanda and Sonny saw it all in slow motion.  He saw your smile falter as you took in his partner’s pregnant belly, and he saw you make a giant assumption about who made it that way. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and he watched you practically sprint out of the bullpen.  Barba, for his part, looked confused and started to follow but stopped.  Sonny went after you and nearly caught up thanks to his long legs, and even though you kept jamming the elevator button, he managed to get his hand in and stop the doors.

He called your name, but you shot him an angry look through tears that were welling in your eyes.

“Let go of the door,” you said through gritted teeth.  Your voice had a shaky quality as you fought the urge to cry.  “Just let me go.”

“No,” he replied.  “I know what you’re thinking….”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you retorted.  You punched the button on the elevator a few more times for good measure, then you reached into your bag.  “I’m thinking that I’m a fucking idiot.  That’s what I’m thinking.”

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded, and he felt his own eyes fill with tears.  You were so distressed; he just wanted to reach out and hold you, but when he extended a hand, you visibly flinched from it.

“I don’t care what it’s like!” you wailed, and you pulled a folded piece of paper – no, pieces of paper – out of your bag.  You tore them in half, and then again and again and again until you couldn’t tear anymore.  Then you threw them at him, and Sonny realized that the confetti was your reply to him.  Or had been.  He knelt to pick up the pieces of torn paper, and the elevator, finally released, closed its doors and carried you out of the building.

He couldn’t chase after you.  You were too hurt by what you saw – or thought you’d seen – and he was on such thin ice anyway.  All he could do was gather up the tiny pieces of paper from the dirty precinct floor.

And take them back to his desk.  And start to put them back together.

[xatsperesso]

I have read a funny fic (not finished, sadly) where Kalego's wicked phase was him being VERY VERY OVERPROTECTIVE. He was keeping his student in the royal one and didn't le them go away from his watch, or anyone else enter, even Balam XD (and the staff decide to call Narnia for help)

And now i imagine a wicked phase like that : he would lock up himself and the misfits in the royal class and would let anyone get in or get out. NOBODY. He would keep his student under his watch because he refuse to let them being hurt. So keeping them under his watch is the best way.

He would see any other adult as threats for his students, even Balam. He would attack Opera as soon he see him because HE sees him as a threat, even if not for the students. He would attack even Sullivan if he tried to get Iruma back.

Because this child get hurt so easely!! He MUST keep him SAFE.

Dadlego mode "over 9000"

In the fic, he even kidnapp Buer, catching him by a window when he sees him passing by, because one of the students is hurt (so need a healer). and he let not him go away neither. And i think that this idea is hilarous.

Now it's my headcanon! WP!Kalego is VERY protective, so much that he's a threat of everyone except his students XD

So now imagine WP!Dantalion and WP!Kalego happening in the same time.

FUCK no one will be able to leave the school. That's it, this is their lives now. They need to adapt to living in the school until both of the teachers are out of their wicked phases XD

But can you imagine how confused and scared the misfits were the first time kalego locked them in the royal class?

Cause i imagine it like kalego locks them up and then stares at them to be able to respond the second someone needs help

But all the kids see is there stern teacher acting weird, locking them up for some reason, and then proceeds to glare at them in silence (cause he's alert in case someone tries breaking in, but the kiddos dont know)

And i guarantee you every one of them will remember every mistake they ever made, unsure which one made their teacher act like this and fear for their lives.

And to make matters worse and scarier to the kids, they keep seeing teachers trying and failing to get into royal one and the kids just don't understand what's going on???

But the big question is, will the two demons in their wicked phase fight, or will they join forces to keep their students safe

You see, on one hand demons are territorial, and each teacher will see the other as encroaching on their territory. Kalego is refusing to let dali see his treasure. Dantalion, a demon in his wicked phase, is a threat to kalego's students. A fight will surely ensue

And the fact that kalego is standing up to Dantalion, his senior, must annoy dali quite a bit.

But they could see it another way. Maybe Dantalion will let kalego, a part of his treasure, do what he wants. If he fought him, kalego might get hurt. And it seems like it's healthy to let demons in the wicked phase act on their desires, so dali will just let him feel safe with the students, and it's not like dali can't go in there if he wants.

Or maybe they find common ground to stand on. Kalego allows dali to see the students as long as dali doesn't get too close, and dali stops anyone from trying to stop kalego or take the stupid home. After all, they're way safer in the school, so what's wrong with having them in the school for a few days?

[southpark-trashfactory]

I wanna ramble about some Bunny thoughts that aren't necessarily very shippy but I guess are partially why I find them as a ship so interesting.

(CW: Child Abuse )

So, I'm of the opinion that none of the South Park parents are actually very good parents, that's the main reason I don't often talk about them, since I don't wanna let my own dislike for them as people come across like I don't appreciate them as characters.

That being said I feel like most people might hesitate to unanimously label the majority of the SP parents as outright abusive, minus for The Stotches and The McCormicks.

For me, this makes for a very interesting dynamic, because it gives Kenny and Butters some common ground that they don't have with most of the other characters.

Building off of that, their situations are similar in theme, but far from identical in execution.

Kenny is the middle child in a financially struggling household, his parents are constantly fighting and physically abuse each other as well as their kids, he's even been shown to be desensitized to his parents arguing. He's also been parentified in how he has to take care of his little sister, and is psychologically abused through his parents degrading him, either for refusing to go to church or for failing to bring home money when he got a job. (I mean forcing a 9yo to get a job in the first place is pretty yikes but you get what I mean )

Butters is an only child in (what I interpret to be) a fairly financially stable household, with parents who more often than not run their home like a well oiled machine together, they're also physically abusive but the abuse they employ the most frequently is psychological, enforcing very specific rules and very harsh punishments when they are broken. (Like when Stephen got mad at him for not organizing the pantry right, so he poured ricerroni into his coffee, even though he could have, looked at the box)

I sort of always interpret Kenny and Butters situations as a mirror of the other, with Kenny's household primarily employing physical abuse with some instances of psychological abuse, and Butters household employing primarily psychological abuse with strategic physical punishments.

Kenny's environment is chaos that he's grown accustomed to, there isn't any rhyme or reason to what he goes through, and the responsibilities he has are unfair for a kid his age. That being said, I feel like he at least has some peace of mind in knowing that it's his parents who are the problem.

Butters on the other hand, might be a different story. His environment is structured neatly and securely, or at least he's told it is, there's always a reason given for why he's being punished, even if he had no way of knowing beforehand, he's always informed of why exactly he is the one at fault. He's a very sheltered child, and though he may from time to time think he's being treated unfairly, he might hesitate to believe he could be being abused, because don't his parents treat him well outside of when he's being punished? You couldn't well say he's neglected, he plays multiple musical instruments, knows how to tap dance, and entered at least one dressage competition, all of which require lessons, so money and time from his parents. All of this considered would probably make Butters perception of his parents very confusing for him.

I know this post mostly comes across as me pointing at these two like "Hey, look how fucked up these kids are" and by no means do I feel like their shared trauma is the only merit to their dynamic being interesting, but it's something I often find myself thinking about, and rarely really see explored as in depth as I would like.

Like, to what extent do they know about each other's experiences? Could they maybe find solace in each other's experiences, or would they get hung up on the differences? Maybe a mixture of both where they find comfort in each other only after coming to terms with the fact they may never fully understand what the other went through, even if it seems similar? Idk man, I just like the idea that these fucked up kids could be happy together.

I like the idea that they might hurt each other accidentally because they're humans who have been hurt, but they make the effort to do better by each other because they care, and they want to be together for as long as it feels right.

I feel like this is just a bunch of random thoughts strung together but it's like almost 3 am