#we all know the reasons but i just fucking hate it so much

[toiletcthulhu]

I really dislike our cultural need to format every mission statement or problem as concisely and simply as possible. I feel like this issue permeates across most aspects of society, as we can see marketing, academia, and politics all value short, simple, concise answers. This has left nuance by the wayside in many areas of pur society, as well as mass mobilization by propoganda-educated or uneducated masses (see the rise of the far right across the world right now). I do think the rise of the far right is partially based in the oppression, lies, and failures of liberal democratic empires, which I think should also fall, just not to Nazis. Regardless, I don't get why we can't say that, based on what we know about large scale radfem movements and some of their opinions about men who also experience oppression, it seems logical to say that some radical feminists hold harmful rhetoric in that it both damages a healthy worldview as well as displacing pain onto those undeserving of it, causing people who see that to become less likely to participate in those movments. We can also simultaneously hold accountable power structures that target those exact people who become disillusioned with socially progressive movements and give them a foothold into reactionary far right politics, as well as the people who get taken in by those reactionary politics for allowing selfishness, hate, etc. to mobilize them into harming others. I think all of these factors are varyingly responsible for the situation we're in, but leaving out or downplaying any of their parts in getting us here does nothing but reduce intersectionality and giving more examples of the left not holding people accountable or holding others exclusively accountable for the right to exploit. Also, I understand the kneejerk reaction to parasitism being used as an insult, but as with the case of Palestinians calling out the bloodthristy actions of Israel, there are some words that are just accurate to describe the oppression of a people. I still think we should be catious of throwing around the word "parasite" or "bloodthirsty" in our common vernacular; ableism and anti-semitism are still very prevalent and dangerous, but if someone is taking a majority of another's means of living and giving them nothing but the right to live, transactionally, for no other reason but greed, that is a parasite. If a nation seeks every opportunity to cause as much death as possible, that is bloodthirsty. If you can't differentiate someone needing assistance to live from housing exploitation, then perhaps you have negative internalized views that disabled people seek to gain power over those they rely upon for help or some other bullshit, but it does not paint a particularly favorable image of disabled people however you spin it. So overall, I agree large swathes of the left are fucked up and need to change (all genders), but disagree that parasitism can't be used to describe people exploiting others and giving nothing back for no reason other than unnecessary self-interest. That's all.

the whole "I got pushed into the far right, because radical feminists are so mean to men, and no one in the left criticizes them for it," routine would be more credible if not for the fact that at the exact same time radical feminists are saying "I'm getting pushed into aligning with the right, because the misogynistic left is bullying and silencing me for criticizing men,"

[habken]

Hi there!

I have been rewatching MHA and came across many accounts that support bkdk. So i wanted to ask you the following:

Bakugo wanted to kill Izuku on their first day and during the bomb test. He tormented him for over 10 years, insulted him, bullied him, tortured him. Because he has "promise" Aizawa never called him out on his toxic behavior, but threatened Izuku with expulsion all the tims, labeling him as "problem child". All Might never did anything, even after Bakugo states, that he wanted to kill Izuku. Bakugo never faced a consequence for his oppressive behavior, he even bullied his so-called BakuSquad. (He got himself captured by the league and only denied their offer becUse they were "losers") Meanwhile, Izuku clearly shows signs of PTSD, wincing everytime when Bakugo was near him. Bakugo used so many explosions on him, he should be covered in scars. It's clear that he is Hori's favorite. The MHA fandom is pretty toxic, we all know this. Bakugo's "character evolution" didn't make him a better person. He never really changed or helped Izuku. When he "moved out of instinct" he did so because it's "instinct", because he trained so much. He didn't care that it was Izuku, he didn't think about it. After the second/ third season, the other characters just didn't care anymore about his behavior towars Izuku. Aoyama's parents wanted Aoyama to have a quirk to prevent him from being left out of society, so basically to protect him from people like Bakugo. He was the most privileged person (hit the genetic lottery, intelligent and rich parents). But still, MHA clearly shows that if you feel insecure you can bully and torture and there will be no consequences. I love Todoroki and Izuku much more, because they at least help and support each other. Shoto had a terrible childhood, but he never turned into an abuser. He never turned into his father. Bakugo's "excuse" towards Izuku was just laughable (makes the whole Sasuke/ Naruto episode after their big last fight look like true cinema). In the end, the fandom (and Hori) support an abuser/victim relationship.

Why do you support bkdk?

Their relationship gives people a false sense of what a victim of abuse should do. MHA never took Izuku's pain and past seriously. They portrayed Bakugo as "tsundere" instead of showing the real consequences of being the abuser for over a decade. Kirishima showed how to behave if you feel "unmanly" or "inadequate". Bakugo in the MHA world was a racist the minute he found out that Izuku didn't have a quirk. He victimized himself and tortured Izuku because he thinks that the world revolves around him. Shouta from "A silent voice" shows how to seek redemption and forgiveness. Bakugo just wanted to be Nr1 hero, but never a good one who saves people.

MHA clearly shows that you can bully someone, torture someone, torment someone- and you will never have to face consequences. A spit-out "sorry" after 10+ years of bullying and right after insulting someone's mental state is enough to be forgiven.

jesus christ lmao

See I could rebute your long ass essay and give my reasons for liking the ship, but you don’t actually care about what I have to say. I’m not going to spend my time defending myself to someone who’s arguing in bad faith. I spent years defending the ship, getting hate comments and death threats, and I’m not ever doing that shit again.

If you want to goad me into defending a dumb shonen ship, pay me $50. Until then, fuck off. Go find like-minded people under the “bakugou faces consequences” tag on ao3

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.

"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.

"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.

"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.

"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.

"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"

"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.

"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"

"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."

"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"

"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."

"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.

"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.

"Was too!" She yelled.

"Was not!" Steve yelled.

"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.

"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.

Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.

"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.

"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.

"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.

"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.

"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."

"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.

"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.

"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.

"You liked it?!" Robin asked.

"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.

"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."

"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.

"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.

"What?" Steve asked.

Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.

"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.

Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.

"I am an idiot," Steve said.

"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.

"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.

"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."

"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.

"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."

"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.

They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.

"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"Something else we have in common," she said.

"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."

"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."

"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.

"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.

"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."

"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.

"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.

"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."

They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.

"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.

They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.

Part Two

[vaaaaaiolet]

A jam-packed mission memo leaves you short on sightseeing time in gorgeous Santorini. You're heartbroken about missing out on the views, but your husband Leon is perfectly content with the one he's got. You just need a little convincing.

mdni IT IS ON SIGHT. married f / m smut where y'all are agents. anti sigma male leon agenda, he's switchy!! size? kink, HEAVY praise, di leon breeding kink canon (very slight), HAIR PULLING, tiny non weird mention of kids, ft. death island dilf watch

a/n: SORRY ABOUT THE TITLE JUMPSCARE it’s a lyric from cinderella by remi wolf! um. i forgot how to write LMFAO. this got so fucking nasty do you still love me. this fic has as much plot as there is flavor in a can of la croix. consider it my gift to all you lovelies in exam season. find the hozier lyric for a cookie :3 ilysm <3

word count: exactly 2.9k // read on ao3

You lean out over the hotel room balcony; huff under your breath, “Absolutely criminal.”

A postcard scene stretches out in front of you. Santorini is blue: cerulean skies, seagulls wheeling above your head, sapphire-capped buildings painted snow-white in the distance begging to be photographed and framed on your work desk. Bath and Body Works doesn’t hold a candle to the salt air you’re breathing in, but the catch – there’s always a catch when working with the Feds – is that you don’t have a moment to spare admiring the scenery.

The rattle of suitcase wheels over tile tells you your husband’s back from the hotel lobby. Heartbreaking, isn’t it, that you’re here on mission and not honeymoon?

“Beautiful,” a low voice murmurs behind you.

“Isn’t it?” you pout, bending over the handrail. You’d even dressed for the occasion to ease your heartache. Splurged on a teeny sundress and swapped out of your sweatpants as soon as Leon let you loose in the airport.

You hear him exhale a whoosh of air. Disappointment, you’d bet, cause that’s all you’ve been feeling since getting handed a jam-packed mission memo upon touchdown. “I know, I hate missing out on the sightseeing too,” you add, griping.

“That’s not what I'm talking about. Oh,” Leon sighs deep, dreamily, “just stand there and let me look at you, sweetheart.” 

So that’s what he meant. You bite back a smile when a large pair of hands magnetically find their way to your hips. The DSO figured they accounted for diversions interfering with the mission, sending you with him as support, but you’re well aware that Agent Kennedy doesn’t get distracted by pretty views. 

All except one.

“You look beautiful,” Leon whispers, dropping a kiss on the ticklish spot under your ear.

He’s doing it on purpose. You burst into a fit of giggles, willfully distracted from Leon’s hand slipping under the short hem of your dress that doesn’t stand a chance against wandering fingers. His other arm wraps under your ribs, presses your back to the solid warmth of his chest, and against your better judgment, you let yourself fall into his embrace.

It’s a recipe for no good. Your hand reaches back and finds his cheek by memory. The situation gets ten times worse when Leon smiles against your fingertips and a soft, entreating kiss gets planted onto your palm within seconds. 

So as usual, you have to play bad cop. “Leon.” 

“Baby.”

“We only have one hour before we have to go down to the lobby.” Uh oh. You’re melting into the lullaby sway of his arms. 

“We do,” he hums, trailing lazy kisses down your neck. 

“None of the equipment’s unpacked and it’ll be a bad look if we keep the Greek agents waiting. They get here at five sharp, remember?”

“Mm.”

“Leon,” you laugh. It’s like arguing with a wall.

“It’ll take me five minutes to change, five more to get the go bag ready,” he reasons, digging his chin into your shoulder. The sneaky hand under your dress finds the warmth of your inner thigh; gentle squeezes of its plush plead the other half of his case. 

You’re left to do the math in your head. Bad sign. Addition turns into multivariable calculus when Leon starts plucking at the barely-there gusset of your G-string. 

Snap. Snap?

Screw you, sundress-appropriate underwear. 

“I’ll be generous,” he declares. “I’ll give you ten whole minutes to get ready when I’ve seen you get ready in two.”

Ten and ten, that’s twenty. Leaves an awful, admittedly delightful lot of time to yourselves in an Uncle Sam-paid suite.

“So what’re you gonna do with all that time, baby?” you tease. You clench your thighs together to trap your husband’s meddling fingers, make him say it with his chest.   

Snap! 

And Leon finally cracks with a groan of your name. 

“You know how hard it is to watch you prance about in this-” he grumbles, yanks the hem of your sundress with his free hand, “barely a dress, knowing we won’t have a moment’s peace until we’re on the plane back home? I’ve been dying for a minute alone with my wife, and now…”

In a whirlwind of blue with a twist of his arm, you spin from facing the ocean view to a pair of baby blues bubbling with desire. 

“I’ve got forty of them,” he grins.

You know that smile. You remember it from your wedding night, the same wild look in his eyes when he undid the bodice on your bridal gown and turned you around just like this. And you see it when you cup his face, just the same as then, your heart thudding pit-a-pat as if it hadn’t learned how to handle itself around Leon by now. 

The two fingers he’s tracing along your slowly soaking folds, however, is new. 

You know better. Don’t you?

He cajoles you as the thrumming between your legs starts to flicker hot. “Come on, doll. Miss Practicality,” Leon teases. “It’d be putting our best foot forward if we clear some jet lag before meeting the on-site team, wouldn’t it?”

You’re breathless, hips pushing up to invite the heel of his palm underneath. 

“Clock’s ticking, Mrs. Kennedy.” God, it’s delicious when he says it like that. “We’re at thirty-eight now.”

Already? 

“Time flies when you’re having fun. Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” 

You look down to discover your dress magically rucked up to your waist. Leon’s damn near pressed against the balcony wall to keep himself on his feet with how unabashedly you’re grinding against his hand. Goodness. 

So it’s no surprise when you eventually muster the guts to admit mutiny to the mission memo. It’ll just suck to be on paperwork duty when you get back. Does it still count as coercion if it’s not him but your cunt begging you to give in? 

“Make it quick,” you gasp.

Leon’s resultant beam could outshine the sun. 

His hand pulls away from between your legs with a delicate thread of arousal trailing after it; it glitters in the Aegean sunshine. He gives himself a moment’s indulgence to admire it with a Cheshire cat grin lighting up his face, but in true Leon fashion, he keeps his word. You’re hoisted into his arms and whisked back inside the hotel room, squealing with delight when you fall backwards onto the four-poster bed. 

Leon locks his lips onto yours like he’s starved of air. You’re willing to believe he actually is with the fervor he shimmies the offending sundress down your hips. “Breaking my heart, angel, acting like I’ve never made you come in a tenth of the time we’ve got,” he chuckles between kisses littered down your stomach. “But I can’t even get mad at you.”

He never can. Not even when you nearly cut off his breathing, clamping your thighs around his head when he drops to his knees. It’s why he passed his hypoxic training with flying colors. What other reason would Leon have if not to suck at the ambrosia under the pearl of your clit?    

And the noises he makes. Obscene in every sense of the word. “Can’t believe I get to call you mine. Taste so fucking sweet, how the hell…” 

You’re sugar on his tongue, Turkish delight. You melt, feel blood flush your face when you soon hear him throw his belt aside, shiver at the shlick-shlick of Leon starting to palm himself from between your legs while the flat of his tongue laves at your cunt. 

He takes his time with his favorite part, lingering below the tender nub that makes you sigh so sweetly. Bumps your clit with his nose to make you squeak, his throat rumbling with mirth that travels up your spine. It’s only at your mewl of a request that Leon gives you his left hand to hold. Whatever his baby needs. 

You’re still clutching his hand when you cry out, cresting your first wave of syrupy pleasure. 

“So pretty when you come,” Leon coos. “Just like that. There you go.” 

He peels your sticky thighs apart to marvel at the gossamer mess you’ve made for him. He could go for ages like this, tucked between your legs. Too bad the clock doesn’t play nice and Leon’s mean, mean, lungs make him come up for air eventually. He surfaces with glossed lips and a punch-drunk smile to match your blissed-out one. 

Under fluttering lashes, you watch him run his tongue over his lips. Savoring you still. So, so close to sinking his teeth into you and your hips buck for him to hurry up – a piece of information that you’re aghast escapes him.  

A hungry whine bursts past your lips and Leon only glances at the watch on the nightstand, surging up to peck your cheek innocently. “We’re still good on time.”

Damn his stupid watch. You’ve caught whatever feverish haze Leon was under a while ago, hell, you think you helped him build up a resistance. 

It aches. You ache. “You know what I mean, Leon, please.”  

“Do I?” 

Leon distracts you with a heady kiss as you gasp at a new sensation: his middle and ring fingers squeezing past the flutter of your cunt. The frigid kiss of his wedding band in your warmth jolts you awake. 

He does.

He’s all bark and no bite. “So impatient. Still so tight and you’re begging me already?” Leon hisses softly. 

“I want-” Thick fingers curl up inside you, choke the words in your throat. Squelch on their way out.

“Say that again?” 

It happens so fast you can barely breathe. 

“Fuck!” you cry out. 

Leon laughs when he sinks in. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You sounded cute.”

It’s your fault for being so easy to please after he worked you open, but you can’t help it. You’re being crass. Fuck it. The immediate stretch of Leon’s dick is fucking delicious when he slides into your pussy just right. So full when he’s slow to pull back out, so gentle when he makes it good for you after jumping through those hoops. 

You’re giddy off his cock, breathless when he grabs you in by the hips. He mashes a quick kiss on your forehead like he’s too shy to look you in the eyes, all while he’s got his hand pressed over the slight swell of your lower stomach, fucking feeling himself go in and out. Even helps you fit the head of his cock back in when he gets too excited and slips out of you. The contradiction makes your head spin. 

He fucks you into the bed, hanging onto every pleased hum that leaves your pretty little mouth. Groans, “Yeah, baby? That feel good?” 

“Mhm!” You’re not exactly subtle about your pleasure. It’s what Leon loves about you.

“Right there?”

“Oooh my god!”

The needy pitch of your squeal sets something off in him. Abandoning your hips, he throws your legs up on his shoulders to reach that much deeper inside. Pussy tight as sin, gorgeous heat wrapping him in molten velvet – you’ve got him in a chokehold. 

“Couldn’t keep my hands off you after that stunt with the dress,” Leon growls, whispers filth to hear you whimper. “So fucking perfect. Girl of my dreams. Taking me so well even though I’ve got you crying on my cock.”

Shit, you are. 

He’s watchful to a fault. Leon brushes stray tears off your cheek with a rough thumb, looks for any dissent on your face while you nod as desperately as you can. “Good girl.”

Oh. You’ve got something to say about that. 

When his hips start stuttering, you find your opening and lock your ankles behind his waist. It’s exhilarating watching Leon’s eyes fly open behind his damp copper bangs. 

“You sure?” he rasps, poorly veiling his pleasant surprise.  

It’s your turn to laugh: his speed picks up the moment you tell him yes. But you can’t let him get comfortable yet. Mid-thrust, you spin your finger in a quick air circle. Switch. 

He raises a brow, but he’s quick to comply. Not without a pained grunt, though. You caught him hanging by a thread.

Top goes down; the sticky, sinful sound of Leon momentarily pulling out of you echoes in the suite as he flips onto his back. You crawl up to his lap and let him handle your hips onto his painfully hard length as a courtesy. 

Leon’s always had trouble keeping his mouth shut around your cunt. “Pussy’s all swollen from me,” he breathes in awe, slack jawed. Can’t help groaning at the mess when he carefully thumbs your folds apart to pop the head of his cock back in, and you let out a honeyed moan, back where you belong. “So cute.”

Down, down, there. You take him to the hilt and Leon chokes on his spit. 

Everything fades into a Gaussian blur, dreamy all over when you plant your hands on his bare thighs. You’re rocking up and down in seconds after adjusting yourself with a soft hiss. 

Leon’s hands come up to cup your ass. His eyes nearly cross, mumbling, “Goddamn.” 

You bite back a giggle, still on the edge of consciousness yourself. 

He’s fighting to keep eyes on you, but he can’t help how his head throws back at heaven gliding up and down on his lap. Kisses descend in flocks down your breasts once Leon gets his wits about him, and then it’s back to a fervid pace. Racing towards the finish line while sweat drips down your back and your thighs burn almost as divinely as the drag of Leon along your walls.

And he’s no pillow princess. Leon’s hips jump up, urgently joining the dizzying up-down of your rhythm. 

“Gorgeous, so- fuck! Could watch you fuck yourself on my cock for hours,” he grunts behind clenched teeth. 

Gorgeous, yes, you. You with dewy eyes and a lurching tautness in the pit of your stomach. You’re so fucking close to plummeting. 

Babbling broken syllables, your hand flies up to grab the short hairs at the back of his neck. You know Leon. Not a soul on the planet but you can ever get this close. Your frantic tugs pull strained whines from his throat; jerk his hips as if he’s bringing down heaven himself. He might as well be.   

“Leon, I’m gonn-”

“If you don’t ease up, I’ll come,” he gasps. “Can’t last. Won’t.”

You’re helpless in that regard. It’s déjà vu when you anchor your knees to the mattress. Finality clicks in Leon’s brain and he grabs the back of your head, crashing onto your mouth in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue because he knows you too. He’d felt you flutter before you did. 

You shatter into his mouth. 

The velvet clench of your cunt proves lethal. Leon’s tumbling right after you, swallowing your every cry, body going rigid as a flashbang of euphoria courses through him. Unbridled pleasure passes through your spasming walls and injects into his veins. 

Leon’s spend starts to pour into you; you feel like you’ve swallowed the sun. It’s messy, running down your thighs in minute rivulets. Warms you from the inside out as your thighs finally falter and you crumple into his waiting arms, feeling lighter than spun sugar. 

“Holy shit,” you laugh incredulously, running a hand through your sweaty hair.

Leon can only shake his head for the first few seconds, blinking in a pleasure-drunk stupor. He has the most solemn expression on his face when he tells you, “I saw the light. Swear on my life.”

“Is that right?” You wipe the perspiration off his forehead, smiling.

He nods, breaking into a grin only when you squint at him. “Okay, maybe it was just the bathroom light. Still, that was incredible. You nearly sucked the life out of me, sweetheart.”   

You shrug modestly. “Maybe I just wanted payback.”

“For?”

“Teasing me all the damn time, using up my expensive shampoo,” you count off on your fingers, holding up an exaggerated middle finger for the third, most egregious offense, “and not telling me we wouldn’t have time to sightsee in Santorini!”

“I’d argue you’re the better view, doll.”

“Oh, come on! People pay hundreds to come here and I want one good photo. Just one for my work desk, promise me that.” 

Your husband chuckles. “I’ll take you to Santorini ten times over after this mission’s done. We’ll make a vacation out of it. Maybe even a family one.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Bet we’d make pretty babies together.” 

He kisses the top of your head, soft and sweet. Nothing could burst your cocoon of bliss now. 

Nothing except the incessant beeping that starts emanating from both your comm pieces plugged into the wall. Almost as if on cue. The realization shocks your back ramrod straight. 

“Leon,” you murmur, “what time is it?”

He scrambles to grab his watch from the nightstand. “It’s…oh, shit.”

“The time, please?” 

Your voice is reedy, scarily calm, and Leon swallows before answering, “4:50.” 

“You wanna test your theory about getting ready in five minutes?”

(The two of you meet the on-site team twenty minutes late. The excuse Leon gives them, while toeing the back of your shoe, is that he got sidetracked admiring the view.) 

((You’re totally making him do the paperwork when you get back.))

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Hiii can you please make a fic about Ellie and fem reader having s*x for the first time together and reader is insecure about her outie :3?

AWW THIS IS SO CUTE I love this. You already know Ellie is gonna be so sweet about this here we go. Warning I made this into more of a short fic since the relationship is established! Hope you enjoy anon<3

Content: 1k words, reader has an outie, vaginal fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), at this point my reader is a pillow princess, some fluff and a lot of filth, slight overstim

You’re sprawled out in your bed in nothing but your underwear. You and Ellie have never gotten this far, but a heated make-out session turned into what you both craved.

You need Ellie so fucking badly. She looks so pretty staring at your legs, trailing her hands up to your panties, looking up for you for confirmation-

Oh, shit.

You wanna say yes. You really need her, but what if she doesn’t like how you look? You’ve seen the way people talk about your type of vagina online, how it’s gross or unwanted. It makes your stomach churn with anxiety, and you are simply left frozen on the bed, your fingers trembling. You want her so much, but you're afraid that if she sees how you look, she won't even want to touch it. The thought is terrifying.

Ellie notices the nervous look in your eyes and quickly pulls her hands back, concern crossing every inch of her face.

"You okay, baby?" Her voice is sweet and gentle and it makes you feel even worse somehow; you wonder if she will still be sweet if she sees you completely naked.

You sigh, nervous to tell her that the reason you're upset is because of your body. You trust her, you know she loves you with every piece of herself, but you still overthink. "I just.." you trail off, and Ellie squeezes your hand reassuringly, looking up at you with gentle patience. "I hate the way I look down there," you mumble.

Ellie's face softens at that and she squeezes your thigh. "Baby, I love you, and I will love every single bit of this body," she emphasizes her point by kissing your knee, and then up your thigh before pausing. "I can show you how much I'll love whatever it is you have down there, if you'll let me."

You take a shaky breath, still a bit nervous, but you want this. You want Ellie to show you how much she loves you.

"Okay." You try to relax into the bed and Ellie smiles, giving you hand a final squeeze before moving back to your underwear, hooking two fingers inside.

"Can I take these off?" She wants to make sure you're completely okay.

You nod, and she slowly slides your underwear down, quickly tossing them aside. You feel like you're being examined. Ellie is just staring at your pussy and it's honestly a bit nerve-wrecking, but then you see the hungry look in her eyes and it makes the nerves fade a bit, overtaken by the flutters in your tummy.

You look fucking gorgeous right now, legs parted, your pussy lips slick with your own juices. She already knew how soaked you were from the wet patch on your underwear, but this is like a feast in front of her. Ellie wants to appreciate the absolute perfection laid out all for her. Her fingers graze through your sticky folds, making you gasp at the sudden touch.

"This pussy is so pretty, babe," she says and you can tell how much she believes it, "all mine, too."

You were terrified a few minutes ago. You know Ellie is a nice person, and she would do literally anything to make sure you felt loved. You weren't really scared of her being outright disgusted with how your labia looks, but that she would pretend to like your body. Now, seeing how she stares at you, feeling her needy fingers, you know she truly does love your pussy.

She quickly kisses your inner thighs and then her lips brush against your lips, making your breath hitch. Her arms lock around your legs and she digs in.

Ellie is so fucking skilled with her tongue, it is truly unbelievable. She knows how to tease you, to circle her tongue around your folds before giving firm suckles onto your swollen clit. She knows just what to do, and that much is obvious. However, she is also so eager - she eats you like she is truly starving for you. Her warm tongue doesn't just focus on the main bud, but she pays attention to your pussy overall, showing you how much she craves all of it, even dipping her tongue into your wet hole and making you cry out her name.

"E-Ellie, please..don't stop.." You're pleading for her, chanting her name and tugging at her hair. You can't help but buck your pussy up into her face, and it only eggs her on more. You taste so good, and now you're shoving the feast right into her mouth? She's gonna devour you.

You can't stop moaning, nobody has ever loved you like this. This is the first time you have ever felt so good about your body and it is a huge relief that you have a girl so loving that she can't keep her mouth off of your pussy (she's gonna need to eat you out every single day after this). Ellie can multi-task, too; she slips a finger into your cunt as she now focuses on getting you off.

It doesn't take much, just the repeated curling of her fingers inside of you to make you clench, and the flick of her soft tongue over your clit to make it beat faster, sending you tumbling toward an orgasm.

The dual stimulation only extends it; when you think it's over, you're met with more waves of ecstasy You don't remember ever being able to make yourself feel this good, and yet Ellie does it by just exploring your body for the first time. Ellie doesn't even stop when you're coming down, her mouth latched onto your sweet cunt, eating it like it's gonna disappear if she pulls away. You whine and jerk until she finally relents.

When it's all over, Ellie gently pulls away, giving your pretty labia one last kiss before laying down beside you and pulling you on top of her. You collapsed into her body, satisfied and emotional from feeling so loved.

"I love all of you, babe. Do you believe me now?"

You let out a soft sigh and nod. "I love you, too."

[lesbianamalvada]

I hate john gauis so fucking much. it's not even any of his crimes, his vibes are just abhorrent. quirk chungus acting mother fucker. everytime he opens his mouth he either lies or comes in with some "well that just happened" quip. He has the evil obnoxiousness of lin manuel miranda and taika watiti combined. I bet he was a millenial. I bet he was that guy on dating apps looking for a third for him and his gf. I bet his favorite movie was the avengers. I don't care what his reasons are, I don't care if he's the most justified person in the whole entire series, I hate his ass and nothing will change that. I just know he is not handsome at all and has the most dumb ass dorky looking face and receding hairline. stupid whore can't keep it in his pants and acts suprised he's got a kid, sleeping with his subordinates that he calls brothers and sisters the creepy fuck. I bet he would groom his partners into doing weird kink shit they weren't comfortable with, if he was a teacher his relationships with the awkward girls who try really hard at school would be borderline innapropriate. No I haven't read Nona the Ninth, that will not change my mind, I don't care if we find out he's was a veteran firefighter who defeated robo-hitler, his vibes are still ghastly and i want him gone.

[madonnamadeofasphalt]

EA & Bioware honestly did an incredible job at killing any enthusiasm I had for a new Dragon Age. Fucking hell, man, I've played the first two games so much I could probably go through them with closed eyes and still pick all the right dialogue options to get My Exact Personally Canonized Plot. And the only reason I didn't do the same thing with DA:I is because it was made after EA completely gave up on optimizing their shit so the fucking thing takes up like a billion terabytes of disc space and takes 10 hours to download and install. I honestly think it's the best-written cRPG franchise to ever have a budget that doesn't involve a list of Kickstarter backers or getting an eccentric Estonian billionaire fixated on the project. And the gameplay is also there, I don't really care about that part.

Then they proceeded to fire all the talent that made me love those first three games, and scratch and restart the production twice, and be suspiciously cagey with any details or gameplay footage for a fucking decade, so my hype consistently went down and down. And yet I still managed to hold out some hope that somehow, by some miracle, it wouldn't fucking suck.

I kept that hope until the trailer dropped. You know the one. The one where we see a bearded Varric. This, I think, was the exact moment when I lost any desire to play fucking Veilguard.

Like, first of all, Varric being there at all is already an issue. Leave the man alone. His presence was already kinda forced in DA:I. And after DA:I and Tresspasser, his story couldn't be more finished if he got killed, eaten, shitted out, condemned to hell, redeemed by divine sacrifice, bathed for eternity in the everlasting light. There is no point to Varric anymore. Whatever arc they've given him in Veilguard, and I don't even give a shit enough to read the spoilers before writing this post, it has no business existing. Fuck you. The only reason he's there is because he's a recognizable IP, and when you're a certain kind of soulless corporate moron, you think there's nothing more important than putting a recognizable IP in whatever new bullshit you're trying to peddle. Maybe if you didn't fire every decent writer in your trash fucking company, you'd have someone to tell you about the importance of Ending The Fucking Story When The Story Fucking Ends.

But that's not even the core of the problem. Beard? they gave Varric a Beard? Varric I fucking hate everything that's even tangentially connected to dwarven culture with a passion which is why I've made a point to shave my beard all my life to spite anyone who gives a fuck about it Tethras? beard? you gave him a beard? He changed so much offscreen in the goddamn timeskip between these two games that he got a motherfucking berd? fucshhfdbeard? feadsgfsvarricafgfdh BEARD? yyousftoiuslyhhabevarricasgsfucningbeardandthivkimgosabedineditit?beard????

PS. (edit after finding out spoilers) I've gone to TV Tropes to read up on Varric's role in DATV after writing this (just in case I'm wrong and dumb, and there's actually a deeply compelling narrative reason for his presence), and, well, this shit is cheaper than I thought. And more importantly, just as I thought, there appears to be no justification for the beard beyond "adding a beard is a cliche way to show that a bunch of time has passed, and we didn't care enough to think this shit through". I'm fucking tired, man.

PPS. (edit after reading the rest of big spoilers) This is so much worse than I could even begin to suspect. This is worse than the final season of Game of Thrones. This is the final season of Game of Thrones if they straight-up fired GRRM, burned his notes and hired a showrunner who's only read a one-page summary of the first six seasons. This is fucking depressing, man. I'm genuinely fucking sad. So many subplots that were started over the course of these three games, that were clearly going somewhere, scrapped in favour of a simplistic good vs. evil story that would get rejected by fucking CD-Projekt in 2007 for being too basic. All because the artists who poured their hearts and souls into this bullshit franchise got thrown out like trash by its "owners". Morrigan's kid, the Well of Sorrows, all the implied complexities of Tevinter politics, the Crows, the Old Gods, Andraste. All went to shit. Death to capitalism.

[delumineight]

i’m in tears 4000 reblogs… this is tumblr i would be so embarrassed of that i don’t even tell anyone in real life that i use this app. that aside im gonna skip that second paragraph because everything else is going to answer that. i’m assuming you’ve been here a while so i know changing your opinion won’t work too well, but you’re looking at this all so one dimensionally.

first off, that happens in year six. there is no “year seven.” and i am glad that you’re bringing up hermione’s faults because usually it’s all about ron! i just don’t think you’re familiar with Being In Love and to be honest i don’t care if hermione beats up on ron. he doesn’t either!!! am i supposed to hate women hit men? no. why would i? that’s praxis. when hermione jokes about it in the next book, he laughs. and if she did it then, he definitely would have deserved it if we’re going to be honest. ron probably likes her for any of the following and perhaps more: she is funny believe it or not, her vindication, the fact that she rides so hard for him and harry, how she cares about him, how she’s kind enough to want to kill some random chickens for them on the horcrux hunt, how insanely passionate she is about everything, and probably so much more that i don’t care to list or think of.

when harry’s away they could be doing anything. hogwarts is a big school. they canonically go to the library a few times, play wizards chess as you’ve mentioned, and do some homework/studying (much to ron’s dismay, i’ll admit). the book is told from harry’s perspective. we aren’t supposed to know what ron and hermione are doing 24/7 and that’s part of it all. this is where you use something called your imagination. they’re prefects together. which means that they spent hours walking around the school alone together. probably just chatting about whatever or even in silence, which can sometimes be so much more intimate than a chat.

ron’s opinion on house-elves doesn’t just change randomly throughout deathly hallows. the two elves in this book are insanely important to the plot, defeating voldemort, and the trio’s survival if you’ve forgot. kreature tells them about the locket and the story of how it originally was removed from the cave. dobby dies for them and saves hermione from being raped by greyback. the reason for the kiss is so big because it does in fact show that ron is growing up and changing, because they are children for the entire series minus a few months during deathly hallows.

and are you serious about this one? why didn’t they tell harry? dude, they didn’t tell each other for seven years and he was, i dunno, the center of a fucking war by the time they realised that they liked each other for real??? like, again, seriously?

they have “no development” in the epilogue because you’ve skipped 19 years and it’s like six pages long and not about them. it’s about harry’s gay son who is scared of being a slytherin, not ron or hermione or rose or hugo. they’re just little figurines in the background of harry’s small dilemma with his son that only have a few lines of small talk with their best friend/in law.

also, acting like ron and hermione’s relationship was out of no where just proves that you probably haven’t read the first two or three books in a while. some venture to say that seed was planted during the first book when ron sarcastically calls hermione “a lovely, sweet tempered girl” or the wingardium leviosa scene or when he beats her at wizard’s chess and it’s the first thing she’s ever lost at. jkr herself said once that they were meant to be a bit “love at first sight”-y (they’re 11 so i’m not 100% a fan of that) but if you can’t see it when he nearly jumps draco malfoy in chamber of secrets for wishing hermione dead or when he keeps looking sadly at her empty seat while she’s petrified you’re being purposefully dense.

if you’d like to try some more arguments please go ahead, but make them harder. this was entirely too easy and elementary. i could’ve given these same answers when i was thirteen.

“I used to ship Harry and Hermione together but that was back when I was 12 years old. Now, I’ve grown up and realized that Ron and Hermione make much more sense together and are good together” is a sure-fire way to tell me you didn’t “grow up”.

[bitchy-peachy]

I don't know whether I should find Trump voters freaking out after learning that Trump doesn't care about him funny or infuriating. It's funny bc literally every reason they had voted for this man was a bold-faced lie and infuriating bc ppl on both sides has be telling them over and over that Trump would fuck America over and now that it's affecting them and their precious gas and egg price, they want to cry about being duped.

I find regretful Trump voters quite pitiful and soulless. Which is quite a lot from me cos when I despise someone to the core I go completely apathetic towards any suffering they may have.

They voted as selfishly as possible. Some didn't even care about the prices or anything, but yes for "sticking it to the libs".

But... While a lot of maga voted for Trump because he openly hates those they hate, there's unfortunately a lot of dumbass people that actually believed he would "unify" America.

(I'm not even joking. I've seen some maga online that are that effing delusional. They really thought they were the "good guys" in voting for the orange skidmark. I swear they need to get slapped for the audacity but I don't want to catch shit from them. )

These are the same people that compared wearing a freaking MASK to slavery so they've always been stupid and also racist af. They blame and project their own mediocrity on minorities and women (even if they're women themselves cos holyshit do maga women hate other women. My own maga mother... Oh she's literally hates everything with a vagina, even animals)

Those voters regretting their vote now... They won't even get the concept of pity from me. (My maga mother and her crying over her VA benefits she voted away lost me forever too.)

They didn't even know what tariffs were ffs. Or that "Obamacare" (a nickname given by republicans themselves, btw 😂) is the ACA they wanted to keep.

They just saw "Obama" in the little nickname and thought "Evil Black Democrat President is robbing us blind. We only want ACA🤬!"

Some are trying to lie to themselves thinking the tariffs will bring back American jobs (😂) and make us buy only "American products" ignoring the fact that our "American products" have imported components that will be affected by these tariffs.

So our "Made in America" shit... Yeah. That's going up.

Oh don't get me started on how more than half of our agriculture is imported and the agriculture that's actually done in our country is done mostly by immigrants that get paid shit wages. (And when Trump deports them all and farmers are forced to hire Americans that couldn't be assed to work a field, the prices will go up for our local agriculture as well)

These morons, we have to call them that, voted for the most epic downward spiral that will tank the American economy for potential decades (not just a few years of "hardship" like that Immigrant-That-Should-Get-Pimp-Smacked-Back-To-Africa Musk claimed.)

Sad thing is that we already had poverty. The middle class no longer exists. It's everyone's poor but with a handful of rich fucks.

And these moronic ass people just freaking put that shit on steroids with their dumb fucking voting.

People tell me I shouldn't insult them so much but shit. They're fucking stupid as hell.

They don't even understand why even relatives and friends don't wanna talk to them anymore 😂.

Oh its not a "difference of opinion". They voted to make us poorer, take rights away from the lgbtqia, women (yes, you miscarry and you can die from it now cos the procedure to remove rotting fetus matter is an abortion which these stupid dumbfuckers are very deaf about.), they voted against ALL POC (including the idiots that voted against themselves. DING DING DING! DENATURALIZATION! America has done it before and Trump will be bringing it back with his fake ass "invasion" emergency to activate the army), they voted against affordable healthcare and therefore fucked over people with preexisting conditions/disabilities etc., they voted against education because republicans need only stupid people to keep them in power.

Heck, they voted against gender affirming care because they think it only affects trans people when there's people with health conditions that require this kind of care (like me. A cis woman that produces too much estrogen that causes me a variety of health problems.)

Red states are behind in everything. Education, health, minimum wages but they're sure winning by being higher in crimes, sex crimes, incest and poverty.

They mooch off blue states taxes. They don't give as much as much back as they take. If it weren't for "demonrats" they'd be completely off the map.

Republican voters like living that way without realizing they could have been so much better.

They keep willingly voting for people that keep them in that life or worse... considering that these elections had very high stakes.

These elections were not like others in the past. He has too much power with the SC, senate and representatives.

Trump voters regretting their votes now should wipe words like freedom and patriot off their vocabulary because they have selfishly and quite stupidly fucked America.

Damn this shit was long, LMFAOOO.

[kingkat12]

so... this is the deleted original ending to the first chapter of seven minutes in heaven. made centuries ago. enjoy!!

(it sorta starts in the middle of the closet scene, so here goes nothing)

WARNINGS: SMUT! SMUT! ROMAN BEING AN ASSHOLE! mind control powers being used for BAD bad bad BAD things!! implied mind control during sex so is it dub-con?, dark!Roman, not-so-happy-ending

word count: 1,811

a/n: there was a reason this version was scrapped... it felt too dark and not fun and urgh i'm simply posting this as an ancient artifact lol. it might suck as i wrote this back in august, but oh well!!!

(Roman is NOT a feminist in this one, so... irony<333 generalizing cunt)

 "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze. I couldn't look at him, not right not, not when we were this close and alone. 

"So..." Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, and he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've wanted to try out, now's the time."

My breath hitched, hoping the thumping of my heart wasn't audible to him. 

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman, and I knew she'd be against it.

However... I was being served my biggest dream on a platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again? 

I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he wasn't holding a needle or no. That was when I knew my anxiety was through the roof. "So... you want a kiss? That's all?"

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would say no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he wouldn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what it was that I was actually asking of him. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system. 

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry overcome me— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

I shouldn't have been so shocked— I should've expected this. I should've known that Roman would spin this around on me. I definitely knew he wouldn't reciprocate, but this? What was it, revenge? 

"I could make your every waking moment a living hell," he continued, his cold hands suddenly travelling up my body, gripping my waist with a grip I was afraid would bruise. "Letha would take my side, of course... Who else do you have but her, hm?"

I wanted to break out into tears, now grabbing at his hands. Almost panicked, I tried to get him off of me, but to no avail. "I'll leave you alone," I pleaded, finding his eyes.

"Nah, that's not what I want," I could see the sadistic satisfaction overcome him— I saw how he broke out into a wide grin at the sight of my glossy eyes. "How about we make a deal?"

Making a deal with the devil reincarnated? Very smart move, on my part. Fucking genius. "Okay?"

Roman hummed, his harsh grip around my waist releasing, allowing me to finally suck in a heave of air. Catching me off guard, he suddenly pressed his lips against my forehead with the softest touch I had ever felt— was he trying to throw me off course? 

"Start being nice..." Roman murmured, his now hands drawing soothing circles onto my back. "And I will reward you."

I let out a shaky breath; I was thankful that the agreement didn't involve any needles. "... That's all?"

"That's all," Roman echoed, pulling away to watch my expression. "You and your mouth have been making my life hell, do you know that? So if you can calm the fuck down, we could both get what we want. How does that sounds?"

I wasn't completely sold. "And what is it that you think I want?"

Roman's eyes darkened; he knew he had won. "Me," 

Oh, how I hated him. I hated him, and I knew I always would. But as his lips ghosted over mine, seconds away from touching, I didn't stand a chance anymore when the following words sounded past his plush lips; "I have a feeling I might have to put you in your place a little, hm? Maybe you'd even want that? Because honestly, I know girls like you... You fight until your last breath, then you're completely in denial, and then you'll fall apart the minute you get what you've always wanted,"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this... me? 

"And you've always wanted to be one of my girls, haven't you?" Roman leaned down, pressing a deadly soft kiss against my cheek which nearly took my breath away; I could feel him smirk against my skin. "Or maybe... the only one?"

At this point, I felt so broken down that I gave in to a nod. 

Roman's hand slowly ghosted up my body until his fingers gently wrapped around my neck, holding me in place, almost as though he feared I would run; "I can arrange that, y'know?"

This conversation had unlocked a deep, dark part of me that I didn't know I had— like this, completely at his mercy, I had a feeling I was made to be his. Brainwashed. That I was put on this earth to find him and be with him, and that we were destined to be together. It made me feel so weak and pathetic that my lower lip eventually gave in to a quiver, feeling a sob build.

Roman let go of my neck, stroking his fingers through my hair. "Shh, no need for that... You're fine, you're okay. It's just me."

Just me. Just Roman. He who that had haunted my dreams for months, the only one I could think of when I got myself off, and the one I had been longing for from afar for so long that it turned into burning hate. 

Roman must've felt like he was done torturing me, finally meeting my lips with the most gentle kiss I had ever shared. This was all I had ever wanted— he was right. My heart beat hard in my chest as I let myself melt against his dangerously soft lips. 

I wanted to be his, no matter the cost. No matter what happened or what I had to sacrifice. 

I loved Roman Godfrey.

... and I was sure of it now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Yes— This was right.

Of course. 

I loved him. 

I loved him, I loved him, God, how I loved him. With every fibre of my being, I loved him. 

I loved the feeling of his body against mine, corrupting my mind until I was nothing but mindless. A small part of me also loved that it was our little secret, and ours only. 

Letha didn't have a clue, of course— I had kept my act up quite well when I was around her. I had kept it up around everyone else as well, but the anger that was ravaging through my system, the hate that was burning me up from inside was currently being mended by one thing and one thing only;

"A-Aah—"

My fingers tangled into Roman's hair, feeling his bruising grip around my hips tighten as he fucked me into my mattress. I let out a small cry, feeling my legs starting to go numb after how long they had been thrown over his broad shoulders. Deep down, I didn't care— nothing could put out the angry fire in my soul like Roman did. Nothing was a better remedy than feeling his cock inside me, no matter what, when, or where.

I let out a gasp as Roman shifted, pulling me into his lap with ease. I couldn't feel my legs now, and I had a sense that he knew— he barely had to put any strength into moving me around, especially with how he was towering over me in general. 

I let out a gasp as he sunk me down on his length, and I gripped his shoulders with a short squeak for support. Heavy breaths escaped my parted lips as I clung to him, whimpering at the feeling of his thick cock stroking my insides. 

Roman seemed beyond content, gazing up at me with half-lidded eyes. He revelled in the sight of how ruined I was before he attached his soft lips to my collarbone to bring forth a hickey, humming. That was the one place we both knew Letha wouldn't see it, after all. 

It was impossible not to submit to the devil reincarnated when sex could feel this good with him. It didn't matter that I had practically sold my soul for this, because every second, every stroke of his cock, was worth it. 

"You're heaven," he murmured, lifting my hips and pushing himself further into me, taking more control. "You feel so... shit, this is heaven—"

Ironic.

And just as I felt my climax approaching, flashes of thoughts I had suppressed came crashing forward. No matter how nice all of this felt, I couldn't help but wonder how I had even agreed to any of this in the first place. But it wasn't like he had mind control powers, right? It wasn't like this was some sadistic ploy to seek revenge against all the times I had been a complete and utter bitch to him.

No— it couldn't be. Don't be ridiculous.

... Right?

[atlasrayz]

Ok hi time to rant abt hazbin/helluva because i will forever be upset about the outcome of those shows.

Indie animation has been on a rise lately, with so many different amazing shows being available on youtube.

I watched the hazbin hotel pilot around the time it came out, and it really interested me. The characters seemed interesting and the premise wasnt really something you see often. I was excited.

I kept up with Viv's work and got into helluva boss. I thought it had some good jokes and the bits of lore we got made me want to keep watching. However, the premise of literally every episode is the same. A bad ex or a bad dad. Its a formula, and it shows up in Hazbin too.

Viv has some obsession with daddy issues, and problems with characterising her women characters. Charlie is the *main character* of Hazbin Hotel, but she has literally no growth or development. Millie also falls victim to this.

The one episode where she actually gets some attention feels... wrong? It felt like they were mischaracterising Moxxie so that they can fabricate conflict between Moxxie and Millie. Moxxie loves his wife, and he has literally never once been shown or implied that he would try to upstage her. Yeah, he's definitely got some inferiority going on, hes constantly being belittled by Blitz. Hes the show's punching bag, but i feel like it had never been implied that he hated himself more than he loved his wife. I hate that episode with a burning passion because how tf are you going to mischaracterise your own fucking characters.

I hate the way they did Lucifer. He should NOT have been some wacky, silly guy who just doesnt know how to reach out to his daughter. He's not bad! He's just anxious UwU. His entire character is irritating. Having a wacky fun character is fine, i love characters like that, but Lucifer shouldn't have been that character.

In the pilot, it was implied that Lucifer hangs over Charlie and his influence puts a lot of pressure on her, but then we meet him and hes just. A guy. Who doesnt talk to his daughter a lot. Which makes absolutely no sense. You could argue that they retconned a lot from the pilot, which, yeah, its all new voice actors so, sure. But then, why wouldnt they remake it in some way, in any way?

Not to mention that all the characters feel flat. Even in Helluva. In Helluva we get filler and backstory, but even then the characters dont change or grow. Quite literally the only good thing out of Helluva is Fizz. His arc and story is the only one that actually breaks from the formula of bad ex bad dad and his character actually changes from the lessons in the episode. I love Fizz for pretty much that reason alone.

Moxxie and Biltz have an episode where they promise to be nicer to eachother *and then they fucking don't?* They stay the *exact same* towards each other. If you're going to do that, then don't make a story based show. Make one of those slice of life, 10 minute episodes combined into one 20 minute episode that shows no growth, and is just there to be fun. Those shows arent bad, they just have a different purpose.

I've been so upset with the results of Hazbin Hotel. The pacing is awful, the characters have no time to change or grow, and their dynamics just arent interesting. It sucks because I saw a world where this indie show got on amazon prime (!!) And was amazing and did amazing things and set the stage for other indie shows to finally get big and then all we got was poorly written, rushed slop that feels like a huge kick in the teeth to anyone who cared about the show. Or, at least, it did to me.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

S2 Entry 2: Soothe the Goosebumps

Image credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) soothes him down from an impending panic attack with apple cubes. (1346 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, finger sucking (light), impending panic attack (panic attack doesn’t happen), praise kink, feeding kink?, subby!Carmy. Mentions of Donna Berzatto.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: String Lights

“Do you not decorate for Christmas?” she asked. “Not even string lights or a mini tree?”

No. Fuck Christmas.

The silence, and the subsequent recoil evident on her face when I looked up from the apple I was dicing, is what told me I’d said that aloud. My stomach flipped. Hands abruptly turned cold for some reason. Heat flooded into my face.

I can’t even begin to explain to you the biblical level of shit I was in that week. That whole month, honestly. The review didn’t go well—we weren’t given our star, which meant that not only did all my bullshit that I pulled in the restaurant after having that mental fucking breakdown after the walk-in incident severely strain all my interpersonal relationships, it also did fuck all to give us any sort of results. If we’d gotten the star, then maybe, maybe, it would’ve stung just a little less. The wounds haven’t gone away—the repeated flare-ups of fighting between Sugar, Richie, Syd, and me are evidence of that—but the star would’ve been salve on the cuts. Maybe taken away some of the burn. No, it just redoubled everyone’s rage at me (including my own. I was getting dangerously close to hating myself more than I hate the fucking Devil at this point). So, the burst of fighting at the top of November turned into all-out war for the rest of the month. We’d found something of a balance before—minus the flare-ups—where I’d do a new menu every month using seasonal ingredients. I’d be mindful of what the kitchen staff could do, Syd and I would actually properly collaborate on them, so she didn’t feel voiceless (even if working with another person drove me fucking insane sometimes), and Richie and I would, generally, as much as we both could corral our familial trauma, try to stay out of each other’s way. Sometimes even get along a bit.

“Carmy?”

Now? Now I lost all fucking control of my restaurant. Syd and I were battling over the menu because even when accounting for her notes, she wanted to scrap whatever I did. Richie was so far out of my grasp that Sugar maintained a demilitarized zone between us, acting as the Secretary of State—or I don’t know, a fucking messenger pigeon—bringing things back and forth, all while trying not to (and failing on multiple occasions) explode at either of us for our bullshit. And it was bullshit. We’re fucking adults, I keep trying to act like a fucking adult and get a handle on myself so this doesn’t fucking happen again—I’m in therapy, for fuck’s sake!—and yet Richie and Syd insist on being fucking children about it.

In retrospect, I don’t blame Syd. If your coworker spiraled off the fucking deep end, and all you got out of that was the trauma of surviving that spiral, would you even want to fucking look at them again? She worked her ass off to make The Bear what it is, she put stock in her own identity as a chef, and wants, more than anything, to be able to take pride in her work.

I said I wouldn’t stand by and let her do to herself what I did to me, right?

Am I not her Devil?

So here we are, December three days away, still without a fucking menu.

“Baby? Sweetheart? Hey.”

Shit. Shit. Fuck. I dropped the knife onto the cutting board. “S-sorry. Sorry, I-I should explain—”

“I just wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction.” She held her hands up, palms out towards me. “It’s okay. It just caught me by surprise is all.”

“Christmas-Christmas is fucking traumatizing.” Why did it come out like a question? It’s a fact. It was fucking traumatizing. I closed my eyes, trying to retreat to the quiet dark, where it’s stable, where it’s safe. “My-my mom, she would, uh, she would do this-this big feast. Seven Fishes... And it was-it was always such a fucking disaster. And-and she would always explode at the tiniest thing. I-I hate fucking Christmas and New Years a-a-and-and fucking birthdays. Fuck birthdays.”

Something burned in my chest. A deep sort of fiery sting that took me two heartbeats to recognize as stomach acid bubbling into my esophagus. I grasped at the pain as if I could somehow get ahold of it and remove it from me, could toss it away like a wet paper towel, but all I found was the front of my apron.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Oh no, Darling sounded worried. I fucking hate when I worry her. I pried my eyes open and found her expression contorted in concern, eyebrows scrunched together, corners of her mouth turned down. “What’s wrong? Pain? Nausea?”

I tried talking, but I couldn’t produce sound past the hot iron burning my insides. Blindly reached for the quart of water and chugged a few sips down. It provided some relief initially, but the flames came right back.

“Hold on.” She rifled around the cabinet above my head and pried off the lid of the baking soda container. Put two pinches in the quart. Swirled it. “It’ll taste weird, but it should help.”

Metallic. Metallic, bitter, kind of salty? Like I licked a dirty penny or something. Weird doesn’t sum it up, it’s fucking disgusting. She rubbed up and down my sternum as I gulped this vile concoction down.

“It’s a base, it’ll help neutralize the acid,” she explained. “Just take little sips until the burning stops.” I’m sure she knew I understood the logic, but I appreciated her talking to me anyway. It was comforting. Something to focus on. Something to drown out the memories of ma’s yelling bubbling away in the back of my head.

Goosebumps exploded on my arms when I took another gulp of the baking soda water. It just kept getting worse. Now the weird taste was lingering on my tongue well after the water was gone, but my chest still burned like a brand was on it. Darling rubbed her hands up and down my forearm, trying to soothe the goosebumps away.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

I responded too slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Not even giving me this horrible shit; it was helping the heartburn.

“No, about the whole…” she gestured in a wide circle. Ah. About Christmas and shit. Got it. “It’s gotta be tough. With. How much those things are engrained in society and all.”

I shrugged a shoulder. Grimaced and got another wave of chills on the next sip of baking soda water. She picked up an apple cube and pressed it to my lips. It wasn’t meant to be an intimate gesture—I’m getting better at reading her face and knowing what the intention behind anything she does is—but something deep in my core tightened and warmed when she fed me the morsel of apple, when the tip of her finger rested just a second too long on my lips. I must’ve had a certain look on my face because she made the cute little cooing sound that meant she figured something out. Cupped my face with her other hand. Stroked my cheek.

“That better, pretty boy?”

She brought another apple cube to my lips, kept her eyes locked on mine—this piercing gaze halfway between interrogative and fascinated, like she was a cat observing a new toy, trying to figure out how to pounce on it. My navel flooded with heat, dick twitched in my sweats. Half of me wanted to shrink in place, become tiny and insignificant, small enough to fit in her pocket like a pathetic but endearing pet. The other half of me got lost in her eyes, in those shimmering river stones, in the perfect architecture of her eyelashes, as if admiring a fine work in some pretentious fucking museum somewhere. She let me suck the tip of her thumb clean. Dragged it slowly over my tongue.

I nodded. Yes. Yes, it’s better.

The fuck was I even stressing about before?

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

[decepti-thots]

☕ ~ trans woman whirl?

I love trans Whirl headcanons but I think I love them for totally different reasons than I usually see, tbh? That is- I think a lot of the time the fandom just goes 'oh! Girl Holoform Spotted! now this character is girl, and we can say character is trans girl because in the comic they are called he/him' and tbh I find that attitude as fandom often implements it annoying for a couple reasons; one, it often feels like a kind of 'if character Looks Like Girl, well, character Is Girl' deal which tbh feels kinda shallow to me ngl, and two, it (and similar under-expanded upon headcanons) not infrequently seems to be a way for the fandom as a whole to justify the general lack of content for the very explicitly canon trans characters by instead being like 'all the material we make for these characters not treated as such in canon proves that we definitely love trans characters. don't think about how lug or anode or arcee don't get that same attention, or that this content only offhandedly actually deals with transness 90% of the time', you know? Bit mean, but I can't help but feel that's a repeated tendency in the fandom, tbh. I would feel less like this if the fanon trans headcanons did not just vaguely go 'oh. also ig they are trans, how nice' with no follow up and instead actually treated these characters as having opinions about being trans, but in too many cases they unfortunately... don't. (And no, them being robots is not an excuse. Anode has opinions on this. Arcee has opinions on this, a lot of them!) But we're here to talk about Whirl, and I want to talk about why I do love trans Whirl, so.

I love trans Whirl for reasons far outside of that, and I think taking that approach to the idea does it a disservice tbqh. Specifically I like trans Whirl for the same reason I like reading Verity as trans, because it adds to Whirl's character arc about being denied agency over identity and clawing it back on purpose in a way where the trans reading feels especially resonant and like it genuinely adds to the overall subtext of her arc. Whirl's entire character is one where the violent removal of agency in her life is so much a focus it changes the course of history; Whirl refusing to let the functionists that ruined her life win is why Elegant Chaos plays out as it does. Whirl is a character whose entire sense of self as a person with the ability to make any choices at all was viciously ripped away from her, and in turn a character whose response to that is to make her ability to choose exactly what she does so utterly undeniable that even if you hate her, even if you think she's repulsive, even if you want to throttle her, you cannot pretend she is not in control. In that specific context, adding in the idea that she would choose her own gender, in defiance of a Cybertronian culture that implicitly treats gender as an alien unwelcome influence, so she can have what she wants- that rules. There's also such a line to be drawn there between Arcee's arc and Whirl, I think, that is so great. That's where I see why it is so good. Being seen as just a gun to be aimed that everyone professes distaste for but still wants to stick around and do dirty work, but you insist upon your interiority being seen as just that; your interiority. And all the things the people who want to do to you which you hate being what you embrace. It's fantastic. I simply prefer that as an angle through which to view the ideas than like... haha well Whirl's holoform is Girl With Guns how funny. You know?

And one of her most "humanising" moments is when she extends that to someone else. I'm thinking of when she tells Tailgate that Cyclonus was lying about his injuries; that part where Cyclonus is trying to protect Tailgate in a way that is ultimately toxic for them both. Sure, everyone else agrees that the best way to handle this is to lie for your own good so you don't make a decision people don't want you to. But that's not fucking fair, and who gets to decide what's "your own good"? Viewing that in light of a Whirl who is not just vaguely a woman but specifically linking that to the way Whirl's rigidly defined role under a functionist heel ruined her sense of identity, because they know what's best for you whether you like it or not- damn, that is COMPELLING. And I find that just. So much more compelling than what fandom so often does with the idea. Whirl, above all else, knows how important demanding agency is. I think that makes Whirl a character ripe for a reading as trans, and I love that for her so much. she'll grab you by the throat and make you acknowledge her. and she's right every step of the way, no matter how much you want to look away. i love her.

tl;dr WHIRL TRANS WOMAN GOOD. LOVE IT. no really i just, it's so good.

[toothlespoggers]

I got silly and infodumped again…

The fact that crystalised despite being the worst ninjago season by far- showed that for a long time now, possibly since season 11 has had his emotions turned off. Is crazy to me. Because I know Cole had a pretty okay moment with Zane about it and he ended up turning it back on in the same season or maybe even same episode I can’t fully recall. But I don’t know how mentally fucked these characters are or what- but I feel like no one stopped to think about that for enough time. Like Cole, he’s a very caring, affectionate, empathetic guy. Yet even he didn’t really seem to register the implications this had for Zane’s mental health. Zane is filled with so much emotional turmoil that he physically couldn’t bear to feel anymore. And this group of traumatised young adults were like- “oh haha Zane, that’s so quirky, that’s so silly of you, haha relatable anyway-“ Like duuuude I don’t know if this is the writers wanting to avoid actually discussing mental health in a “children’s” show or if these characters have had such little emotional awareness and support through their lives, almost dying everyday since they were teenagers that they are so desensitised to the horrors tm that they literally cannot tell when someone is basically holding a sign over their head saying “I NEED SERIOUS HELP.”

That kinda says a lot about Sensei wu, doesn’t it? I mean he’s great we Stan- but he did kinda adopt a bunch of struggling teenagers and burden them with saving the world and then allowed them to put themselves in harms way for years, without ever sitting them down and asking them if they were okay, emotionally? Like I don’t know if this happened and I didn’t see it or if it was implied to happen off screen but I really doubt wu was any sort of a support system for these guys that treated him like a father figure.  

Maybe it’s because this cycle of pain goes back to wu as well, because he’s not the most stable person in the world either, but idk it feels crazy to me that these people that were basically family. Just- never checked in on eachothers well being or looked out for each others mental issues.

I mean they never really got a break and when they did- hell the only reason season 11 happened was because wu, so obsessed with the ninja being in tip top condition urged them to do something, which led these idiots to unleashing Aspheera and then ended up with probably the worst fate you could wish upon a Lego, for Zane. Seriously the fact they turned the ice emperor thing into a joke is so tone deaf to me like if this happened to your friend. In real life, (just suspend disbelief for a second) you would be absolutely GUTTED. You’d probably feel SO BAD. And that person? Probably can’t function like a normal individual anymore. Probably needs serious therapy.  Not a joke.

I don’t hate wu, I never did. But I just think he’s been very irresponsible with the way he’s handled his students and while he’s wise in some aspects 70% of problems in the show could’ve been avoided if this old man valued communication.

And if this isn’t based on the characters flaws. And it’s Lego refusing to discuss mental illness and mental health. COME ON LEGO IT WOULD EDUCATE YOUR YOUNG AUDIENCE ON PTSD, ANXIETY AND HOW TO HEALTHILY DEAL WITH YOUR PROBLEMS. Because right now, if you wanna deal with issues the ninja way, YOU BURY THEM AND TAKE THEM TO THE GRAVE AND YOU NEVER COMPLAIN OR REST.

All I want is at least one episode where it’s not all about the current bad guy or plot and it’s just about the ninja actually confiding in one another and trying to help their friends out. Maybe Zane or Lloyd finally snap and have a full mental breakdown and the only way to deal with it is for them to actually talk about it and work it out. I’m sure you can make a compelling episode with that in mind. They’ve tried to address mental health in the show with Lloyds anxiety arc thing in DR they need to do better.

We need a scene in DR where Zane and Frohicky are at the monastery while the other ninja are doing stuff, (maybe I’ll work out the details more and write something on this) and something happens where all the pain and trauma and just, awfulness just builds up in Zane’s mind and he just. Has a moment where he cracks. And he stops working on whatever he’s working on. And Frohicky notices the shift in the air and suddenly his entire demeanour changes and he comes over concerned and Zane is standing there or kneeling and Frohicky puts his hand on his shoulder and asks. “Are you okay?” And Zane just doesn’t know how to respond. He tries to shake everything off but he can’t, he’s never been asked that before. And Frohicky starts babbling on trying to help him and offers to get him set up so he can rest, and Zane doesn’t have the strength to object or the will to say anything and he’s just like.

“I.. don’t know.” In a final response to the previous question. 

And it’s just a scene where Zane accepts Frohickys gesture of kindness. And while not everything is fixed obviously. You can slowly see the tension leaving him.

Because it matters if someone asks you if you’re okay. It reaches into the darkest place and offers a hand saying “I’ll listen.” And that could genuinely change someone’s life.

[iheartpeppino]

So... the Fangamer Pizza Tower stream on Twitch last night...

So we basically had bootleg Peppino (Peppinaux Soufflé [sp?]), bootleg The Noise (The Nice), and a version of Pepperman that might as well be canon. The Vigilante (also called The Vigilant) was also there as a pile of god-knows-that-wasn't-cheese. OH, and a bootleg Fake Peppino (referred to as a raccoon) shows up, too. There's also a couple of other characters, including a game reviewer who's never actually played Pizza Tower but sure loves making shit up about it!

What are they trying to say about Peppino by making that bootleg version of him like that? That he's neurodivergent? A bit delusional? Highly insecure? Yeah, I can see all that and now I just wanna hug my Peppino plush a whole bunch.

The Nice was extremely annoying and a huge shithead who just loved rubbing his successes in Peppinaux's face. Remind me to throw my Noise plush against the wall later.

Pepperman... MORE LIKE PEPPERFUCKBOY!!! I love and hate this guy. That bit of flirting he did towards the camera at the end of the stream... DUDE. WHY THE FUCK AM I SIMPING. I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH, OMG.

Fake Peppinaux was very well done given what little budget they had to work with. Uncanny humanoid appearance, animalistic but smarter than he's given credit for... makes a lot of weird noises... yup, that's a Fake Peppino. Calling him a raccoon is actually pretty spot-on considering all he did was keep tricking Peppinaux into giving him dough to eat, like a tricky little trash panda. It was almost cute.

The Vigilant just sat there and stared the whole time through unseeing eyes. It was very unsettling.

Also, the whole plot of this stream? Peppinaux is trying to host a cooking show with different shitty pizzas he's made, but the super oven he has, which was promised to cook his pizzas at high speed, keeps turning them all into Fangamer Pizza Tower merch. And it's slowly driving Peppinaux insane. It culminates in an ending I'm not going to spoil.

I do feel that it did get rather dark, however. At one point, Peppinaux becomes very depressed and tries to off himself by cooking a pizza with pills on it... which turns into more merchandise. If that kind of humor bothers you for any reason, don't watch this stream.

Anyway... those are my thoughts, take 'em or leave 'em I guess.

[tumbleweedsthesecond]

Tophvan post yayy... I wanna explain why I ship it or whatever. Why its silly to me or like how I view their dynamic or whatever. This is gonna cringe so probably ignore this if you don't like tophvan I'm not trying to say its like the best ship in the world or they have a great dynamic or whatever I just wanna explain how I view them. This will probably sound delusional but yk whatever. Cringe and free I guess. Here's some old art

Basically me going on their interactions sorta kinda plus my own headcanons.

Okay so hc wise I've always kind of imagined they wouldn't get along in some way. For obvious reasons, Topher tries too hard and Ivan doesn't try at all. So obviously Topher would at least try to seem like he didn't know him s1 and I don't think he does really know him s1 I feel like they would've followed each other on Flipflop(gah I hate saying that) and Topher just didn't care to block him because he only has two followers and doesn't want to lose one. Anyway I think with s3 I imagine the bleacher creatures met during summer school mayhaps because they all failed gym or math or something? That's my hc on it. I think they do seem close? At least good friends I think that jackée Ivan and Topher are the three main(vlad and lizzie I still loveee but its harder to get a read on them they don't talk much) anyway I don't think that Ivan and Topher would immediately get along obviously Topher let loose more because he's happier with his friends but still I don't think its perfect obv. so going to actually get into the analysis now I yap so much

Cringe part

I think that based off lines of dialogue like "its a fuck no from me" "a simple no would've been fine Ivan" that Topher kinda keeps him grounded at least a little bit???? Ivan doesnt seem to retaliate I think he does sort of view Topher as the leader in a way. Because Topher talks the most and tbh he does seem a little bit bossy. There's also that one time that I immediately think of when I think tophvan the part where he looks over at Topher as if to see if its approved or not before he agrees with jackée.

Like hes like 'is this funny? ' though it could be because he doesn't listen to jackée because female and he's a dumb teenage boy(throws tomatoes at him) I still think that its funny cause he doesn't even look at all the guys in the group to approve it first he just looks at Topher. you can tell by the animation

Anyway before that I think these two do talk more off screen Ivan looks at him when the others don't (even in other scenes though I don't really think that's a big deal imo) okay full headcanon time I think Ivan knows about tophers supposed crush on joan. I don't think Ivan likes Joan but I think he was like "give it a shot because Topher or whatever 🙄😒' but I also feel like he had a bet that she wouldn't be any help. Don't get me wrong I do think ivans dumb obviously but I also do think he just doesn't like Joan. He doesn't full on hate her or anything just don't think he completely trusted her. He does trust her in the vip room thing he thought that was coll but he is also the first to say she ditched us straight up. Ivans very blunt

We are standing in a closet!

Past that I think they do get closer or whatever afterwards. Kind of. We see them in the shower but I kind of ignore that episode and scene altogether so. That's not rlly a big thing I think abt so anyway

Dumb thing incoming I think its also like the way they look at each other or whatever. Like. whatever dude. I think they'd be kind of sweet or whatever. I don't know. Idiots who caresbro.

Overall I think Topher is a complete idiot too like obviously that one scene where he gets bitten by the snake and jackée says to suck the poison out and Ivan sucks the snake because he's a stupid stupid idiot. Dumb. Tophers stupid too very stupid but that's why I think they're fun together.

Forgot abt that scene where they highfive Topher laughs at ivans dumb jokes. They highfive. (I think Topher laughs way too hard at it like we get it bro. You think its funny. I would say it kinda sounds like forced like haha you're so funnyyy but that's probably a bit of a stretch 😔😔😔💔💔)Edit: I think he genuinely finds that stuff funny cause he's so stupid like bone high is not that funny he just has dumb humor. Anyway another hc I have Topher does like his jokes alot and at first I van laughs along with him but then Topher laughs too much so Ivan just like stares at him

Akso the thing where he sees Topher as the leader of the group I don't think that's too serious or anything I think its just like okay ill listen to you sometimes they're still a dumb high school friend group.

ALSO THIS ISNT ME TRYING TO BE LIKE ITS BETTER THSN OTHER SHIPS OR THAT "OH THRY HAVE SO MUCH DYNAMIC" they're background characters basically I just want to point out some canon stuff! Its fine if you don't ship them who cares anyway if anyone has any tophvan hcs please comment them I love seeing tophvan stuff!!!

Also I love all the bleacher creatures I'm ocifying them too.....sorry to single out the ship I just wanted to explain stuff

Also is this reaching? Probably but they're two characters with low screen time so. Shrugs