#and while i'm sympathetic to it looking back after another couple of years it's like nah. no i was still growing i was just too close to se

[skrunksthatwunk]

went back to the sketchbooks around when i was going through yyh for the first time in 2019 and found a pile of near-yearly sticky note updates about my relationship with the series next to my first yyh doodles, a page full of kuwabaras. thought it'd be fun to share

+ more thoughts and old yyh art below

(it's crazy i didn't find any kurama-centric pages for months bc i think he's the one i doodled in the margins of class notes and stuff the most. his hair's pwetty and he gives me the least trouble outta any of the main 4)

something i noticed while skimming the two sketchbooks i took these from was how mean i was to myself at the time about my art. i guess it hit me more because i don't really spend hours going through my old sketchbooks over and over to track my progress and growth like i used to quite often. i guess it was only a little after when my self esteem was lowest (8th grade, tale as old as time), but... idk. i knew back then that i'd grown a lot in the few years since i started drawing more seriously (that's why i looked through my art so much), but like... i guess that never translated into being nice to myself about it. i ended up going back through about ten more sketchbooks to find more yyh art, and in the coming years i'm glad to say that negativity in the margins went away. hell yeah

but even so, my love for yyh was a constant and effusive thing, as it is now. it's probably the oldest of my current media interests. i watched myself get into rgg and develop my ocs and watched others fade in and out, watched my style loop back on itself and go all over the place, passed by pages of writing about crushes and album releases and gender discoveries and my grandparents dying, all surrounded by little drawings of the characters i love. including kuwabara in a maid dress right next to my dead grandma grief rambling that one time (no i'm not kidding. my grandma died in like late 2020 and the page where i poured my heart out after finding out she was gone just trying to process everything had one with catboy maid dress kuwabara directly opposite it, who i'd drawn like the evening before she died in her sleep. he killed my grandma from like 100 miles away he was that powerful. that wasn't even the last time i drew him like that and i don't even care about catboys or maid dresses much. i think it was just a bigger meme and he was the guy i most associated with cats. i put that man in a situation and he fucking got her because the book couldn't contain him. some victor frankenstein shit. anyway)

i took about 150 pictures, most with multiple sketches. i decided not to add any more though bc 1) i posted some of them on old accounts but i don't remember which ones, and tbh i value my anonymity a little too much 2) All Of The Pictures Turned Out Bad in ways i don't feel like getting into but just trust me it's like 6 layers of fucked up illegible image bullshit 3) i found it hard to narrow it down to things i felt were indicative of the development or interesting or anything like that. idk. i figured it was an interesting exercise for me and it probably wouldn't really mean anything to anyone else. and that's ok :) it was nice anyway. i mostly mention it to be like Oh My God i've drawn these guys a lot and i STILL don't know what i'm doing... :| it's fun

however i did transcribe the notes i left:

7/9/19: yo it's been less than a week & i'm on ep. 80 wtf i love this show

8/14/20: 1/2way thru my 3rd watch (first dub, first [with older sibling]) & honestly still love it & kuwabara being the first one i drew makes me happy

7/28/21: i'm watching it w/ [younger sibling] now! 4th(ish) watch, 2nd time through the dub, which is so much better than the sub really elevates the text. we're at the semifinals of the DT, which means this is technically my 5th time through yyh up until that point but eh semantics anyway i still love & obsess over yyh! <3

1/14/24 (present day): hey, i'm rewatching yyh for the.. idk 5th or 6th time. still love it & never stopped. now i'm writing fic & drawing & posting about it. i have friends i talk to about it. [both siblings] have seen it. so much has changed, and so little, but it made me sad seeing how much i insulted my own art. i love you 2019 me. god knows you needed it

[+ this drawing]:

anyway. forever fornever. if you even care

#that's all. just kind of a personal post i thought was neat. skrunklore #skrunkart #yyh #yu yu hakusho #you can really feel the 14 y/o in a lot of the little notes and stuff but that too is part of the growth and change im trying to celebrate. #ripping my fingernails off about it but it needs to be done #also the hearts are because they love each other. and also me in like a cheering you on kinda way #ok more lore but around jr year i started feeling like my art was getting worse or at least stagnating and i kind of wished i could go back #to the era where a lot of that art is from bc there were little things i was better at and also bc i was much more prolific and adventurous #and while i'm sympathetic to it looking back after another couple of years it's like nah. no i was still growing i was just too close to se #like i'll be like oughh i haven't grown at all in years >:(( and then i'll look at the art i made over the course of 2023 and go oh nvm lol #some of it was more 'getting back into the swing of things' + traditional and tech issues being resolved but there was also growth #there is also stuff to be proud of and there always is and there always will be. that goes for you too reader #no matter what your art does or does not look like. i guess that's part of why im posting this too #part of what got me into visual art was seeing how people's art changed (sketchbook tours). it's cool and seeing that learning process so #well preserved and so easily analyzed kinda activated something in my brain. i think it got me past a lot of the 'im just not talented' #stuff a lotta ppl have that keeps them from drawing or sharing it or whatever. anyway art's cool i love art. gonna go draw now probably :D #ALSO really funny watching the way i drew myself change. all in ways that make sense but still funny to me. long hair glasses girl you'd #probably keel over if you saw what we look like now. hell yeah

[toxicanonymity]

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas.  You packed your swimsuit this weekend.  You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway.  Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off.  In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.  

-

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie.  Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does. 

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail.  She leans over and looks at the screen. 

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up.  “Gross, he's like 50.”   

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?”  She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot.  It turns out, you had no idea.  

You sigh,  “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.”  You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't.  You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?” 

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.” 

She looks at you sympathetically.  She knows why you came home this weekend.  You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing.  “I get it,” she says.  “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it.  Then on to the next,” she smiles.  

If only it were that easy.  You really don’t feel like going back and facing life.  Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive.  But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you.  You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears.  You just hate feeling so powerless.  On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend. 

Your phone dings.  Your friend looks at it.  

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious.  "Oh, shit.  You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me."  You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism. 

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. " 

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy.  She really tickles herself pink with that.  Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.  

Your phone dings again.  She looks at the screen and side-eyes it. 

"What?" You ask 

"You should block Chad." 

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.  

Chad: miss u already. 

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.  

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond. 

-

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute.  A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable? 

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note.  It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing: 

You have no idea.  

Your heart races as you look around the street.   How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back.  Laundry, you guess.  You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts. 

-

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street.  Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house.  Comically high-security, too.  Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him.   You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back.  The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.  

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing.  Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis.  You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further.  You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window.  Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear.  Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece. 

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house.   When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise.  It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.  

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches.  He doesn't bother pretending not to watch.  You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts.  He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.  

-

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool.  You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water.  When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.  

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks. 

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.  

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.  The glimpse makes your knees weak.  He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on.  He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months.  Look, Trouble, I’m human at best.  She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.” 

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything.  He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool.  You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees.  You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s.  His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.  

“There,” he says, handing you his phone.  You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask. 

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles.  “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.  

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window. 

"One what?"

"iPhone pro.  Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using." 

"What do I need an iphone pro for?" 

"They didn't have the regular one in blue." 

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.  

-

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing. 

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.  

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything. 

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”  

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.  

You still don't say anything. 

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh.  All your blood rushes to your loins.  You don't move.  He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass.  A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.  

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb.  When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach. 

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.” 

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.  

-

“God damn.  Look at you.”  He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again:  The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you.  The length of his cock slamming into her when he came.  And now it's right there for your taking.  Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants.  Too bad he doesn't deserve it. 

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head. 

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.  

He takes a deep breath and his lips part.  He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand.  You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you.  He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back,  jutting your tits into the air again.

 "Yes ma'am," he growls. 

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you. 

"The whole thing." You nod at it.  

He pulls the fabric back. 

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.  

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought. 

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand. 

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies. 

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip.  Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base.  You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own.  He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly.  You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it. 

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock.  He clenches his jaw.  

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away.  He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly.  He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand. 

He shakes his head slowly.  “Yeah, you would.” 

He looks down at himself then back up at you.  His eyes darken.  The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . . 

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy. 

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs.  You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.  

“Thirsty?” he breathes. 

“Hell no.  Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.” 

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie.  A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.  

“Gross,” you say.  But you ache for him so badly.  “You know, a gentleman always asks.” 

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute." 

-

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let  it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone.  He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.”  Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call."  He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled.  Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly. 

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes.  Half of it is dark with sweat now.  His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels.  You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.  

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly.  He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house. 

-

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.  

How devious of him.  

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head.  Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you.  Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear.  He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away. 

-

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock.  Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away.  Asshole.

#dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #dbf!joel miller #tlou joel #tlou smut #joel miller #joel miller/you #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #toxicanonymity ☠️ #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #toxicdbf #sluttified!joel #HOG #hog!joel miller #hot old guy #joel jacks off #toxic dilf summer

[cheegu3]

Hi, I loved your glory based enha fic so much! Please do a part 2 or sequel of it? I want to see why they bully and kiss the mc at same time. Maybe you can make it yandere since you mentioned that it was not?

Honestly I'm new to your blog but love your work so much!

I've gotten many requests like this, so I decided to make a mini series out of it, technically it's my first series to finish so lower ur expectations everyone lol. Thank you so much for reading and supporting my work, welcome & love u !! <3

dc list (all the ppl that requested a pt.2) - @ceeesxy-blog, @roses-and-blue-perennial-salvia, @/anons special thanks to @muminpopz, for giving me the idea to introduce a second character !!

to clarify - my last part was still yandere, that's why they wanted to kiss her, I think I wrote that in my last fic bc it wasn't really mentioned much.

note; I haven't planned the plot 100% so voting will probably be a big part of deciding what happens next, only the first ones to read (24hrs) get to vote but u can still leave your opinions in the comments <3

this is a bit long, I apologize in advance, I am determined to give this an ending now lol

wc; 4.4k

pairing; enha x f.m reader

featuring; yeonjun & soobin (txt)

tw / trigger warning; yandere themes, severe bullying, the glory inspired, scars, mentions of forced kissing, mentions of drinking and smoking, trauma, swearing

pt.1

Enhypen - the glory (PT.2)

The irritating fluorescent lights flickering above made you scrunch your nose and turn on your side. Those damn hospital lights reminded you of those moments you'd spent there a couple of years ago, when your mom needed treatment for her illness. They felt eerie, almost like a weakening heartbeat flickering back at you while you stared at them.

Now here you were, back at the hospital again. Your dad had accidentally spotted the burns, poking out from under your shirt as you raised your arms above your head to put something on a shelf. Wishing you'd been more careful was useless now as you looked at the sleeping form of your dad slumped over the dreary hospital bed.

Your bullies had no idea you were in the hospital, but surely they'd be notified soon enough. There was no way your dad would let this thing go after seeing how badly they left you. He had dried tears on his hollow cheeks that made your heart twist painfully in guilt.

Although it wasn't your fault at all, you didn't want to be a burden to him. He already worked more than his body could handle, constantly stressed with the increasing workload his company gave him.

'' Miss, y/n? ''

You sat up straight at the sound of a nurse. She approached your bed with a sympathetic smile on her face, and you felt bad for her too. She looked young, too young - had you scarred her as well with your injuries? They weren't very nice to look at after all.

'' Yes? '' you whispered, eyes fleeting briefly to your dad sleeping to let the nurse know not to wake him up.

'' We've administered some soothing cream and medicine in case the pain gets too unbearable. If you wish, you may go home now. ''

You nodded. '' Thank you. ''

You reached out your hand and gently pat your dad. He grunted and slowly got up, stretching his sore neck as he slowly started waking up. He looked at you questioningly instead of asking what was wrong.

'' They said I could go home. ''

He sighed, maybe a bit louder than he had intended to because a look of regret flashed across his face, hurriedly he assured you, '' I wasn't worried about the bills, honey. ''

You knew he was but you didn't say anything. The promise of your warm, comfortable bed waiting at home was enough for you to stay quiet, even during the whole ride home.

Hearing the additional quiet sighs of your exhausted dad behind you when you hurried to your bedroom, made another pang of guilt hit you. But this time you ignored it too - another more important thought was filling up your mind now.

What would happen at school tomorrow?

You slipped under the heated covers and as a result of the long day, you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

*******

You were one of the earliest students to arrive this time. Taking your designated spot at the back of the class, your head naturally fell into your arms as you yawned off the morning grogginess.

Before you left that morning, your dad had given you a smile and told you that, ' If those punks give you trouble again, call me '. But he had said so while balancing both his files and a cup of nearly spilled coffee, along with a laptop tucked under his arm. You'd seen him for maybe a few minutes before he disappeared off to work again.

You smiled a bit melancholically, knowing that if trouble did arise you wouldn't call him. Hopefully you wouldn't have a reason to do so anyway; maybe they'd be more gentle with you since they gave you such a harsh punishment last time.

The bell rang, startling you and making you raise your head. The class was pretty much full now. By instinct your eyes dart to where they always sat. Surprisingly, they were all in their seats but didn't seem to be paying you too much attention.

A few of them looked sleepy, slumped over their desks like you had been just a minute ago. The others had dark circles under their eyes and stared blankly towards the blackboard.

Rough night? They almost looked like they'd been out partying. You scoffed. It wouldn't shock you if they had; they sometimes smelled of smoke as they'd kiss you in the gym, so you wouldn't put it past them to drink during a school night too.

'' Good morning, class! '' the teacher's cheerful voice cut through the room.

The tired students responded back but in a much less bright tone.

'' We have a new student today. A transfer from Ansan. ''

The murmur from the usual chatty students stopped, and it became dead quiet. Just then the classroom door slid open and a tall, very good-looking guy crouched to get in.

'' This is Soobin, please introduce yourself. '' the teacher smiled.

'' Hi everyone, I'm Soobin. Nice to meet you. '' he said solemnly.

He sounded a bit shy and he didn't keep eye-contact with the students for long, eyes dashing anxiously from person to person while he clasped his hands together.

When his eyes landed on you, you smiled politely. Based on first impressions alone, it was clear as day to anyone that this guy didn't seem like a bully, so you wanted to be nice to him.

It's not easy being new, you knew that very well when you had to transfer during the second part of the first year. Back then, there weren't any people like you that would want to take care of the newcomer, like you wanted to take care of Soobin - and that's how you became their target. You couldn't let that happen to this guy.

'' You can take the seat next to y/n, that one in the back. '' you heard the teacher say.

You smiled again, that would certainly make things a bit easier as he would be sitting closer to you than your bullies. The part where you actually had to try to become friends was harder. You couldn't remember the last time you had a friend.

Soobin cautiously walked over to his seat, keeping his eyes down the whole time. He looked even taller up close, and he barely fit in his seat which made you snort quietly to yourself.

The teacher turned her back and started writing on the board as the murmur returned again. You fiddled nervously with your fingers before finally turning your head to him, determination shining in your eyes.

He must've seen you do so in his peripheral vision because he looked at you too, his bunny-like eyes growing twice its size.

'' Hi, I'm y/n. ''

'' Yeah, she...uh said so. '' he gestured to the teacher and then seemed to cringe at himself.

You let out a light laugh, maybe you were both equally awkward.

'' I guess she did. '' you gave him a genuine smile, one that reached your eyes. It had been a long time since you'd smiled in that way.

'' I'm Soobin. '' he seemed to relax when he saw your smile, a small one played on his own lips as he observed you timidly.

'' I know, she said that. '' you teased back.

He chuckled and you thought you saw him blush before he turned to pick up his notebooks from his backpack. You did the same, starting to copy the material from the board.

'' Hey, is it- okay if I eat lunch with you later? I know it's a weird thing to ask, but I don't really have anyone. '' he quickly rambled after you had been taking notes for some time.

'' I mean, you don't have to say yes if you already have someone you're eating with I just thought I'd ask. ''

A shy pout formed on his lips, seemingly indicating that he felt that he had embarrassed himself again. But you found it cute.

'' No, that sounds perfect. I don't really have any friends either. '' you admitted.

'' Oh. ''

'' It's okay. '' you laughed.

And then the two of you continued studying, while the sweet promise of having someone to finally eat lunch with was circling inside your mind.

*******

When the bell rang, you quickly packed up your things and waited for Soobin outside. You were slightly scared that if you were one of the last ones to leave, then your bullies would catch you red-handed and see your newfound friendship, prompting them to do something to the new student.

Soobin looked happy walking by your side, completely oblivious to all the stares and whispers that followed the two of you. He was even humming something, moving his head slightly all the way through the queue in the cafeteria to the walk to your table.

You chose one that was out of sight from the entrance, just in case they'd eat today. They often didn't - being from snobby rich families and all, they were grossed out by the cafeteria food and would usually drive home during lunch or go out to a restaurant together.

Someone must've told them about you and Soobin however, because you suddenly heard the table next to you gasp and gossip.

'' Why are they eating here today? ''

One of the girls glanced towards you, and when the others noticed, they all looked at you. Soobin looked confused, he stopped midway with his mouth open and his chopsticks carrying the food dropped it clumsily.

They giggled at him. But you couldn't even find humour in something like that when you had a bad feeling in your stomach. They were probably right when they looked at you as the answer to their question.

But why? Why would this make them angry? What would they do to Soobin now?

'' Hey, y/n. ''

You raised your head cautiously, dreading to see them. The fact that they seemed so out of it during the lesson shouldn't have made you feel so confident that it meant they'd avoid you all day.

Jake was the one who stood slightly in front of the group, the others gave threatening glares to students that looked like they wanted to intervene, making them hurriedly scurry away.

'' Yes? '' you couldn't hide the irritation in your voice.

'' What do you think you're doing? '' Jake cocked an eyebrow and then his attention was caught Soobin who was peacefully eating.

Your bullies seemed to assess him from head to toe which made the poor new student look very uncomfortable, causing him to squirm in his seat and clear his throat.

'' Eating lunch? '' you snarkily respond and then attempt to go back to eating while ignoring them.

You heard a scoff.

'' Did we say you could do that? '' Jay sneered, looking down at you.

Your cheeks started heating up and you turned your head as it started to show. The whole thing being done in front of Soobin made it feel ten times worse. Had you now lost a potential friend because they wanted to embarrass you like this on his first day?

You were about to respond but were interrupted by them all abruptly moving to squeeze in next to you and Soobin. The two of you exchanged confused looks.

'' We just wanted to join, can we not do that? '' Sunghoon winks to the flustered new student, who nods hesitantly.

But your lack of answer didn't satisfy them. Heeseung who sat closest to you, rested his hand on your exposed thigh as his eyes held a non-spoken warning in them.

'' Of course. '' you respond flatly, earning a satisfied grin from him.

It felt like you were holding your breath all throughout that excruciatingly long lunch. They'd never eaten with you before and it became clear quite quickly that the reason they did so today wasn't because of you - but, because of Soobin.

All throughout, their focus was on him and not you. It made you feel uneasy, like they had something up their sleeves. The new student was asked questions enthusiastically, which he answered happily as he slowly got out of his shell more and more. But you noticed the looks and the smirks they shared when he wasn't looking. Problem was that any time you'd try to warn Soobin, that hand would return back to your thigh. Heeseung didn't need to say anything, you knew not to test it. Still you hoped you'd have the chance to warn him later.

The reason why was because the way they treated Soobin on his first day made you get a horrible sense of deja-vu. In an instant you were transported back in time to your very own first day.

*******

You overheard girls talking in the halls while waiting for the teacher outside the classroom; about some guy they had hooked up with.

'' Are you fucking stupid? '' one of the girls sudden aggressive outburst made you perk your ears up without meaning to.

You didn't exactly have anything else to occupy your bored mind with while waiting anyway, so you eavesdropped a little.

'' Lee Heeseung? You hooked up with the Lee Heeseung? ''

Shifting your weight and turning over while pressed against the wall, you tried to get a good look at the poor girl who seemed to have gotten taken advantage of.

'' He's a known fuckboy and player. '' the angry one continued.

The girl you assumed was the topic of conversation shrugged, but she had a slight sad frown on her face.

'' I thought that...maybe I could change him. ''

The two others girls erupted into shrill laughter. You couldn't help but feel some sympathy for her despite her bad decisions. The teacher interrupted just as you were about to ask them about the guy, so you could avoid him.

'' Y/n? Are you ready? ''

You grimaced and nodded, giving one last look at the girl before following the teacher into the classroom.

Immediately a small pang of panic hit you. It wasn't empty like you'd expected, in fact - pretty much every single chair was filled with a student.

'' Good morning, class! '' the teacher's cheerful voice brought you back to reality.

You just had to introduce yourself and then the danger was over. You could spend the rest of the day glued to your desk, not talking to anyone and when lunchtime would hit, the convenience store across the school was your best bet.

'' We have a new student today. A transfer from Seongnam. ''

'' This is y/n, please introduce yourself. ''

You looked at the teacher, slight panic evident in your eyes. Clearing your throat you stepped forward a few steps.

'' Hi everyone, I'm y/n. Nice to meet you. ''

Your anxiety slowly started dissapating when a few students answered back politely and you released a breath you didn't know you'd been holding in.

'' You can take the seat next to Heeseung, that one in the back. '' you heard the teacher say, she was gesturing towards the back right of the classroom where a bunch of guys were huddled over one table, too busy talking to register what the teacher had said.

You obediently walked over there and tried not to make a scene when you put your things on the chair that was closest to the table they were all gathered around.

To your dismay, the owner of the popular table had noticed you in the corner of his eye. He quickly waved everyone away and then focused his attention on you.

It was very hard to ignore.

'' Hey, sweetheart. ''

No matter how hard you fought back to not show any reaction, your face scowled at the sound of his nickname, earning an abrupt laugh from one of the boys.

You were sure this meant bad news for you, a guy like that wouldn't want to be humiliated in front of his whole friend-group, so you quickly gave him a sheepish smile.

'' Yes? ''

Your innocent tone made his eyes narrow as more of the boys laughed. The longer you kept eye-contact, the more you felt him openly glare with something you couldn't quite explain glinting in his brown gaze.

Before he could embarrass himself in front of his friends further, he stood up so suddenly that the chair underneath made a loud screeching noise. To you surprise, everyone minded their business which was very different from your last school where everyone was nosy and the sound would've immediately made people whip their heads around in curiosity.

He dragged the chair as close as he could to next to yours, so close that the material was slightly pushing into your bare thigh.

Your eyebrows knit together as you watched him sit down. It was way too close for your comfort; you could even smell his cologne and the fact that it was so obvious it was an expensive one made you immediately annoyed.

He leaned in now, being just a few inches above your ear and most likely shielding you from his friends.

'' Do you know who I am? ''

Your loud scoff for answer seemed to enrage him even more. His much larger hand found your wrist and easily trapped it in a painful grip.

'' No, sorry. '' you hurriedly answer, feeling a lot less brave now, your wrist was already starting to hurt.

'' I'm Heeseung, remember that. ''

In your scared state, your head seemed to move on its own, rapidly nodding obediently. A victorious smirk appeared on his face before he finally retreated, dragging the chair behind him back to the group.

You dreaded the sound of the bell ringing. Predicting that he'd be standing right outside the classroom waiting for you with his friends. It was a long shot, but you tried taking the other door.

'' Hee? ''

You gasped, bumping into a taller male's chest. When you backed away and looked up, you cursed under your breath - it was one of his friends.

It seemed that they had thought of the possibility of you attempting to flee. The thought made your cheeks turn red.

Heeseung joined his friends who'd been guarding the door you tried to escape out of. Looking down at you very arrogantly, as if he could read your face and your thoughts, knowing you were flustered.

'' Did you try to run away? '' he snickered, putting his hands in his pockets and tilting his head at you.

It had the effect you were sure he wanted, you felt mocked and avoided his eyes.

'' Sorry. ''

He hummed before you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist again.

'' Let's go. ''

You went with them without protesting. Although you feared where they were taking you, you feared speaking and potentially getting on their nerves because of it, way more.

They were quiet the whole way, which seemed to never end. You passed by many classrooms, the cafeteria and walked down the loneliest and darkest corridor; yet they only spoke when the ones in front of the group seemed to come to a halt in front of a double door.

'' Open it. '' you heard one of the ones behind you say.

The tallest of the group, who was in front, unlocked it instantly and the lock fell to the floor in a loud thump. He pushed it open all the way, revealing a very large gymnast hall.

'' Why did you take me here? ''

It had become quite clear very fast that these people weren't someone you should mess with, and they were pretty high up on the school's hierarchy judging by the way no one interfered; instead pretending like they didn't see you pass by.

You made a quick guess that whenever they needed something, like the perfect place to do something bad to someone without others hearing - they were given it in one way or another. Maybe some poor student had been forced to get the keys from the teacher just to satisfy them.

'' Go sit over there. ''

Your head follow the voice. It was a pretty tall guy who was undeniably very handsome, from his silver hair and defined eyebrows to his deep voice, everything about him was pretty attractive.

It made you wonder what he wanted with you.

You didn't ponder on that thought long however, moving in a haste again to make sure they didn't get angry. Jumping up on the plinth he had pointed at, you watched nervously as they all approached the stairs leading up to a stage that your back was facing.

Without them needing to tell you to, you automatically turned around just in time for them to form a half-mood around you. Trying to read their faces was very difficult as they all looked at Heeseung who was sitting straight across from you, staring right back.

'' Why did you take me here? '' you try to ask again.

'' Well...I- we like you '' he answered simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

'' What? '' you say dumbfoundedly.

'' I was trying to hit on you earlier, I don't know if you noticed. '' Heeseung bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from smiling.

'' But being nice didn't really work on you, did it? ''

'' We realised that with you, we need to use more extreme methods. '' a new voice said, one of the ones that hadn't said a word to you yet, who had strawberry blond hair and a soft voice.

'' Wh-What do you mean by that? '' your eyebrows knit together as your eyes darted anxiously between the two closest to you, being prepared to run if you had to.

'' I'm Sunghoon. '' the silver haired-boy said, ignoring your question.

'' I'm Jake. '' said the guy next to him.

Your gaze naturally averted to him. He looked like an innocent puppy, you wondered why he was friends with people like Heeseung. But when your eyes locked, he winked at you and you got your answer, face quickly turning into a grimace of disgust.

'' I'm Ni-ki. '' the tallest one said.

'' I'm Sunoo. '' the gentle one said, catching you off-guard when he flashed a big friendly grin.

'' Jungwon. '' the one closest to you on the other side said grumpily, not even bothering to look at you while saying it.

His red hair that seemed to be fading, was a perfect match to his personality, the whole time he looked like he was in a sour mood.

'' I'm Jay. '' the one furthest from you said.

He looked like a pretty scary guy, dark hair that was cut in a way that framed his sharp features.

'' That's everyone. Don't forget their names, okay? '' Heeseung spoke up last, tilting his head while smiling slightly at you.

Your voice didn't seem to work, you felt frozen in your spot, like you were glued to the plinth underneath you.

'' Can you not speak? ''

You saw anger flash across his face which only made your panic worse, but you couldn't get a single word out despite it, only a string of stutters and incomprehensible words left your mouth.

'' Do you want me to help you? ''

Not even registering that he had gotten up from his seat, you were taken by surprise when his rough hands grabbed either side of your face as his lips devoured you.

You tried to scream or turn your head so he couldn't have access to your mouth, but it was to no avail. Eventually your hands fell limp. All you could do was pray that it would end quickly, while your whines of protest were muffled by his hungry lips.

When he pulled away, he had a cocky smile on his face.

'' Get used to this. '' were his last words you heard before they left, forever engrained in your mind.

And that was how it started. No matter how much it happened, which was pretty much every other day after school at this point - it still didn't get easier, your clothes always got stained with tears. Their voices didn't help calm you down when you'd see the obvious desire in their eyes. They were like a hungry pack of wolves, just waiting for their turn with the prey

*******

The school bell rang after about half an hour, instantly snapping you out of your daydream. Your bullies said their goodbyes and then left, with one last look at you. But you shrugged it off and immediately leaned over the table to talk to Soobin.

'' Don't trust them, please! They might be all nice and sound like they actually want to be your friend but they're horrible bullies and- '' you hesitated before pulling up your sleeve to reveal the marks they'd left on you. '' They did this to me! Trust me...they're not good people. ''

Soobin's eyed widened in horror and his hand slightly twitched, as if he was either holding back the urge to clench his fist in anger, or resisting the urge to reach out and gently touch your wounds.

'' I'm sorry. '' was all he said after some time of silence.

You smiled a bit apologetically, pulling down the sleeve again. He seemed sweet and you didn't want to cause him distress for no reason, it just felt a lot more impactful if you showed him to make him believe you.

'' It's okay, I'm sure you didn't know. They're quite charming at first, that's how they get you. ''

'' I'm a bit offended that you thought I fell for it though. '' Soobin snickered.

'' What? ''

'' You think I believed all that bullshit, right after they spoke to you very passive-aggressively and basically shot daggers my way? ''

'' Uh...well, yeah? ''

He laughed heartily and stood up, you following as he threw the trash off his tray away.

'' That actually makes me feel a bit better. '' you mumblingly confess.

The pair of you walked together to class and spent the next few lessons and breaks together as well, surprisingly unbothered by your bullies this time since you were with someone for the first time in a long time.

At the end of the day when the bell rang, Soobin asked to hang out. He said he wanted to introduce you to his older brother and said he had something to talk about. You reluctantly agreed, but were on guard the whole taxi ride to his house since he was still a stranger.

His house was pretty big, located close to where the richest families in the country lived. He however claimed he wasn't rich; that it was his step-father that was pretty well off, but they didn't have a good relationship so he didn't spoil him.

'' Who are you? ''

You stared at the older male leaning against his desk. His eyes narrowed as they bore into you. Then they shifted to his younger brother who immediately straightened up.

'' It's my new friend, y/n. ''

'' Okay? ''

'' Yeonjun, please be a bit nicer. She needs our help. '' Soobin begged.

A puzzled expression overtook your face as you tugged on his sleeve.

'' What do you mean? ''

'' I will help you take them down. '' he said, a smirk slowly creeping up on his lips. '' Every, single one of them. ''

-

#yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen #enha x reader #kpop imagines #enha the glory

[sitp-recs]

liv, do you have any idiots to lovers recs? I’m thinking things in the vein of “keep it down” by warmfoothills; where draco and Harry like each other so much but are just so dumb about it! it also works if only one of them is an idiot (usually Harry, my oblivious king!!) huge bonus if they have a big, combined friend group that everyone in it either 1.knows they’re in love with eachother bc duh or 2.already thinks they are dating/fucking

It took me ages to post this but if you’re still around I got you, anon 🫡 That’s also a favorite trope of mine, I adore that warmfoothills fic. Here are some recs for you, I’ve had so much fun putting this list together. I also did a reclist for roommates AU a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

Still Life (2019, M, 3k)

Take A Stab At It by @sorrybutblog (E, 3k)

It’s a bit pathetic, Harry knows, to have a hard-on for the guy who bullied you in school. Kind of cliché to look back on years of obsession and hatred and think, Oh.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k)

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

Tread That Fine Line by disapparater (E, 5k)

Harry could cope with being in love with Draco, it was the needing to get fucked by him that was driving Harry insane.

Mise en Place by @corvuscrowned (T, 5.5k)

Draco needs to learn how to cook, and luckily, Harry knows his way around a kitchen. The fact that Draco is using his newfound cooking skills to impress another man... Well, Harry just tries not to think about that too much.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (E, 5.5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Party of Two by fireflavored (E, 13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) by @punk-rock-yuppie (E, 16k)

At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco. Or, Draco and Harry fall in love over the course of several Fridays and some other days of the week.

solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by @moonflower-rose (M, 29k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions by InnerLilith (E, 39k)

Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyway, when you’ve got a best friend?

Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (M, 61k)

Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #idiots to lovers

[itsscromp]

Could I send in a request for Alejandro m, where reader is Valeria’s younger sibling, and he becomes an older brother to R as Valeria betrayed them too; and when Valeria comes back after they capture her, she tries to rebuild her bond with them, but Alejandro is really protective of them?

Bond broken beyond repair

Oooh this is interesting, I like this... I like this a lot anon. Warnings: Canon typical violence and google translated Spanish. Word count:1.5K

When you, Alejandro, Rodolfo joined the special forces. You were also joined by your sister Valeria, You always looked up to her. She was wise beyond her years. You knew she would guide you and the other two well when you rank up.

But as the time went on, You began to notice a change in her, As the special forces began to close in on cartel activity, She seemed to become... Obsessed with it.

One day, you went to her as she was ready for yet again, another cartel related mission.

"hermana ??" (sister)

"Si y/n, Everything ok ??" She turned to you.

"I... I just noticed that you seem to be volunteering for a lot of cartel missions lately, And not any of the others"

To which she simply shrugged. "Why not ?? Is it bad I want to get close to the scum ??"

That made a bit of sense in the long run, But this was very different, leaving an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Her shoulders remained fixed in place, her posture demanding a sense of... dominance. Valeria was strong, she would never seem to hesitate or second guess... It was odd... Sadistic in a way.

Then a couple weeks later, she disappeared out of the blue. You grew scared for her and begged your CO to go and look for her, but with the cartel activities on the rise, it was just two dangerous.

Until one day, when you and Alejandro were tasked to go and investigate a potential cartel meeting, you got more than you bargained for.

"Hands up !!!" You and Alejandro aimed your guns at the cartel members. Having no form of escape, they begrudgingly gave up. Just as you were about to take them in, A familiar voice was sounded.

"You don't give up easy... Como siempre, títeres incompetentes." (Just like always, Incompetent puppets) Valeria emerged from the shadows, after all this time, she betrayed you to join the cartel...

"Valeria..." You lowered your gun

She tilted her head mockingly as she chuckled. "Where's the little one ??" She'd always been one to coerce Rodolfo with his silence, which made Alejandro angry.

"Tu hijo de puta... WHY !!!" (you son of a bitch) Your bottom lip started to wobble as your anger boiled... your own sister.

"I'm not working for them, I have bigger plans, You just can't seem to see the bigger picture" She hummed

"Your a fucking liar and a rat !!!" Alejandro was quick to your defence. "Looks like the damn opposite"

You began to raise your gun again as your anger rose before Alejandro placed his hand on it. "Y/n no... We take her in"

"That won't be happening" She smirked as from above, multiple members started to open fire, forcing you and Alejandro to retreat. How could she... Your own sister, Betray you for the damn enemy... It left you a mess for the next week.

Alejandro could see how the betrayal has affected you, While he was hurting too from it all, He knew how much this affected you. He gently approached the door of your room and knocked. "Y/n ??"

"Yeah..." You said softly... and sadly

"Can I come in ??"

He didn't hear anything at the start, But he heard the latch move and the door unlock, indicating his invitation to come in. Slowly opening the door and entering inside, finding you sitting down on the edge of your bed, eyes red and puffy. He gave you a sympathetic look as he sat next to you.

"She was my sister..." Your bottom lip began to wobble.

"Puedo darte un abrazo ??" (Can I give you a hug ??)

You nodded as you crashed into his arms, sniffling.

"I'm so sorry... We all trusted her" Wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back.

It would always linger with you, that your sister betrayed you.

A few years later, You found yourself working alongside Sergeant Soap and Lieutenant Ghost as they were tasked to find Hassan and the supplier of the missiles they found earlier. But the supplier in question... You thought you would never be able to hear or think of her again.

El sin nombre herself... Valeria.

Finding yourself in the shipping container with the others, and Philip grave of shadow company, you began to interrogate her.

"Have a seat" Graves ordered her as she sat down, while you shut the container doors.

"OK, How do you three know each other ??" He asked both of you.

"Know is a strong word" Alejandro spoke up

"Las palabras fuertes son importantes, Nuestra palabra es nuestro valor ¿verdad?" (Strong words are important, Our word is our worth right ??)

"Vete al infierno maldita sonuvabitch-- Te voy a matar" (Go to hell you fucking sonuvabitch-- I'm going to kill you) Alejandro stormed to her, causing soap and Rodolfo to calm him down.

"Vamos, Tell them" (go on) He looked at her again once calm.

"I don't take orders anymore" She shrugged. "Even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me."

"Look at this, She's ex-military, we served together" You spoke up, trying your hardest to restrain yourself.

"Different squads, same unit" It was like this conversation was just a walk in the park to her. "You were the wild ones, Huh... los vanqueros"

Alejandro smiled in frustration. Only making you grip your gun tighter.

"My squad was clean cut señores y señoras" (Ladies and gentlemen)

"Until the raid on the son of La Araña" You spoke again, moving slightly forward.

"Te acuerdas ??" (do you remember ??) Alejandro stepped in again

"lo recuerdo perfectamente" (I remember perfectly)

"Her team was told to cordon off the city to keep out La Araña's enforcers and prevent the bloodshed"

"That's exactly what we did" She said it nonchalantly.

"Well, you kept out his enforcers, Because you were his enforcers, Huh ??"

"He was escorted to the mountains without incident, Also to prevent bloodshed"

"He was supposed to go to prison" Rodolfo reminded her.

"So you killed him and took over" Graves spoke up.

"I created a power vacuum... And I filled it, Las Almas needs me" She looked at Graves.

"Las Almas needs soldiers, Not sicarios," Alejandro said as he leaned closer to her "and you... You disgrace the army"

He looked over at you and Rudy and nodded in the direction. "And your brothers no ??"

"Why're you doin' this ??" Graves demanded.

"You tell me" She leant back on the chair and turned to him. "You're the contractor, No ??. What you don't do your competitors will"

"You're a narco, Harbouring a terrorist" Ghost spoke up with the deepest voice you ever heard.

"Terrorism is good for business, it's insurance" She stated.

"What the fuck does that mean ??" You growled at her.

"¿Puedes sacar tu maldita cabeza si tu trasero por un segundo? Por el amor de Dios y/n" (Can you get your fucking head out if your ass for a second ?? For fucks sake y/n)

Graves placed a hand on her shoulder to which she shrugged it off "As long as there is a war on terror, there will be no real war on drugs"

You both glared at her "To find your so-called terrorist, You need me, to prevent bloodshed"

While you all hated the idea, she was right, she was the only one who knew Hassan inside and out, so for now they agreed, but as you began to walk out... Valeria spoke up to you.

"Y/n... I never did anything to hurt you, I just wanted to show you how much better it could be" She played the innocence card as she batted her brown eyes at you.

"You shut your mouth cabrona !!" (Fucker) Alejandro stormed to her, he wouldn't let her talk to you, not after what she did.

"No me hables idiota" (Don't talk to me idiot !!)

"You don't get to say a word to them, not after what you did, your own sibling !!"

"I never did anything to them !!"

"You ran off, disgraced the fucking army and became our most wanted enemy !!"

"On my own, It's not my fault you get too emotional, I did what I knew was right"

Your nostrils flared with anger as you gripped your gun, the night coming back to you, not wanting to take any chances this time.

She looked at you with the same deceiving look, All that could come out of your mouth... "Estas jodidamente muerta para mi valeria" (You are fucking dead to me valeria) To which you stormed off, Tears fresh in your eyes.

She hurt you, she had hurt you a lot and you had meant it, She wouldn't be anything to you anymore, Only as el sin nombre.

Taking a deep breath, you felt Alejandro's hand touch and gently squeeze your shoulder, Letting you know that you weren't alone. "We can get through this... Si ??"

You nodded "Si, hermano"

Alejandro would always look out for you, no matter what.

Taglist: @callofdudes

#platonic #reader insert #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #Alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas imagine #Valeria garzia #valeria garzia x reader #valeria garzia imagine

[alyswritings]

JJ X sister maybank reader please, she catches her brother with another girl and he tells her to get out when really she needed him the most. She then goes to kie and sarah.

Y/N sniffles as she gets back to the chateau, wiping at her tears. She looks around for her brother, going into the guest room that they use, opening the door, stopping when she finds JJ and a girl making out on the bed, JJ shirtless.

"Jesus! Y/N, what the fuck?" JJ questions the thirteen year old.

"I-- sorry. I just... I-I needed to talk to you." Y/N says.

"Well, do it later. Leave." JJ hisses.

"But, J--"

"Go." JJ growls, giving her an annoyed look, and he gently shoves her out of the room, shutting the door in her face, and she hears the lock click.

"Who the hell was that?" She hears the girl ask.

"Just my sister." JJ says. "Now, where were we?" The room goes silent and Y/N knows they went back to making out already. She huffs, feeling more tears fall down her face and she storms out out of the chateau.

Y/N quietly cries while sitting on the hammock as she thinks of what to do. She goes over to the shed and finds John B's old bike. After testing it, she gets on and pedals away.

Finally reaching Kie's house, Y/N jumps off the bike. She manages to climb up the side of the house, not wanting to risk having to make small talk with Kie's parents.

Reaching Kie's window, she knocks on the window. After a moment, Sarah is walking over, her eyebrows furrowed at the younger Maybank sibling. Sarah slides the window open.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Sarah asks.

"I, uh... is Kie here, too?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, come on." Sarah steps aside, letting the younger girl climb in.

"Y/N? What's up?" Kie asks.

"I, uh... can I stay here for a bit? Just, like, the night or maybe or something?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Why? Is something wrong?" Kie asks.

"Everything." Y/N mumbles. "My dad, my history teacher is out to get me, those kids are picking on me again." She lists, sitting on the bed, her eyes watery. "I went to JJ, but-- but he was making out with a girl and he kicked me out." She sniffles.

"Oh, baby." Kie sympathetically sighs, hugging her. Sarah frowns, sitting on Y/N's other side and rubbing her back.

"Why is your history teacher out to get you?" Sarah asks.

"He always humiliates me somehow. It's not my best class and when he demonstrates bad grades, he always uses my stuff. And I failed an essay the other day and he made me read it out loud so other kids would know what not to do."

Kie rolls her eyes at the teacher, her jaw clenching, wanting to protect the girl she views as a little sister.

"What about the kids?" Sarah asks.

"Just stupid comments that shouldn't bother me, but do. They made me spill my lunch yesterday. And please don't ask about my dad. You already know that kind of shit."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Sarah frowns.

"How long has this been going on?" Kie asks.

"I mean... it kind of always does. It's just been worse the past couple of weeks." Y/N says.

"Well, we can have a girls night. Nails, movies, games, annoying gossip. Completely forget about all the shitty things in life, unless you're up for an amateur therapy session. How's that sound?"

"Good." Y/N smiles a little and nods.

- - -

The next afternoon, the three get to the chateau, always hanging out there as usual. They're all outside and getting ready to go out on the boat. JJ goes into the chateau to get drinks and snacks, Sarah and Kie following him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kie sneers, smacking JJ over the head.

"Ow!" JJ cries out, holding his head.

"You ditched your little sister for a hookup, JJ? Really?" Sarah asks.

"What the hell are you talking about?" JJ asks, putting some beer in the cooler.

"Y/N. She said she tried to talk to you yesterday, but you were making out with a girl." Kie says.

"Yeah. So?" JJ asks.

"So, she needed you, you fucking idiot." Kie hisses.

"What are you talking about?" JJ asks.

"She really needed somebody yesterday. But you chose a random chick over her." Sarah says.

"Well, she didn't say she anything. All she said was she had to talk." JJ says, shrugging.

"She didn't look sad or anything?" Kie asks.

"I-- I don't know. Maybe." JJ says. "I had other things on my mind." He chuckles and Kie smacks him over the head again. "Ow!"

"Look, leave her alone on the boat, cause if she starts talking she'll probably start crying, but when we were are back on land, you apologize to your little sister and you listen to her." Kie orders, a finger pointed in JJ's face sternly.

"Yes, ma'am." JJ salutes her.

"I'm serious, JJ." Kie states.

"Me, too. All right, I will. What was bothering her, anyway?" He asks.

"Bullies, history teacher, and your dad." Kie lists.

"History teacher? Come on, that prick again?" JJ groans.

"Yes. The teacher who should definitely not be a teacher." Kie says.

"Okay, okay, I'll take care of her later." JJ says, ignoring the guilt forming in the pit of his stomach.

- - -

JJ did subtle things to watch out for Y/N while on the boat. He gave her drinks even when she didn't ask for one, made sure to notice when she was tired or hungry.

They're back at the chateau and Y/N is inside and making a sandwich. JJ goes inside, slowly walking over.

"Hey." JJ greets, standing across from her on the other side of the counter.

"Hi." She mumbles, spreading the peanut butter on her sandwich.

"So, um... what, uh, what'd you wanna talk about yesterday?" JJ asks.

"Doesn't matter." Y/N dismisses.

"Right." JJ mumbles. "Look, Y/N, I-I'm sorry for kicking you out. Okay? I-- I wasn't in the, um... the big brother mindset. I'm really sorry. I should've noticed you were upset." He says.

"Thanks, I guess." Y/N mumbles.

"Look, um... Ki-Kie told me what you were upset about." JJ says.

"And she's the only reason you're apologizing?" Y/N assumes.

"No. No, I'm apologizing because I feel bad, kiddo. Really, I'm sorry. I promise to never prioritize a hookup over you ever again." JJ says.

"Okay." Y/N mumbles.

"So, uh... do you wanna talk about it?" JJ asks.

"Not right now. I don't really wanna cry right now, so." Y/N says.

"Right. Can I at least beat somebody up?" JJ asks and Y/N smiles a little.

"You'd get sued if you beat up my history teacher." Y/N notes.

"Well, I'm sixteen. It's still not really completely inappropriate for me to beat up some thirteen year olds." He smiles.

"Jayje..." She gives him a look. "I appreaciate the thought, but that's not gonna help anything. It'll only make them hurt me worse, my history teacher would probably sue us or get you expelled or something."

"I'm cool with that." JJ says.

"We're broke enough, don't you think?" Y/N retorts.

"I got a job." JJ shrugs.

"JJ." Y/N gives him a look.

"Alright, alright, alright, okay." JJ holds his hands up. "Fine. No violence." He gets up and walks over to her. "But if you change your mind..."

"Call our designated fighter, yeah, I know." Y/N says.

"Anytime." JJ hugs her, giving her a noogie.

"JJ." She whines, pulling out of his grasp. JJ laughs and gets some peanut butter off her sandwich. "JJ!" She complains again, watching him laugh as he eats the peanut butter.

"You love me." JJ grabs her head and kisses her on the cheek.

"No, I don't." She argues.

"Yes, you do." He ruffles her hair, grabbing a beer and going outside.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @itsmaneskinbitch @ironmaiden1313

#jj maybank #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x sister!reader #obx #outer banks #obx jj #outer banks jj

[glorious-spoon]

The kiss prompt had me feeling too much like a kid in a candy store, and I couldn't pick. I managed to narrow it down to three, hopefully one of them sparks joy?

…as a suggestion.

…after a small rejection.

…because they’re running out of time.

for buddie please 🩶

:D thank you! i went for 'a kiss after a small rejection', hope you enjoy!

-

Buck has been extremely supportive of Eddie's dating woes, in his opinion. He has been a good friend about it, listening sympathetically to the post-game of every date that fizzled out and every connection that failed to manifest. After Marisol, there was Raquel, and then Marta, and María, and Janelle. Then, maybe less shocking than it would have been a couple of years ago, there was Daniel, and Liam, and Álvaro. Eddie told him about the first of those dates with a glint in his eye that dared Buck to comment, so Buck didn't.

But it means that they're currently in this weird holding pattern where Buck knows that Eddie likes men, and—maybe more relevantly—is willing to consider dating a man, and they still haven't actually talked about it.

That's a conversation that should probably happen. Buck just doesn't know how to bring it up without immediately blurting everything out, without begging Eddie to consider him as an option. And if he does that, there's no coming back from it. If he does that, and Eddie says no, he doesn't know what'll happen. The world will end, or he'll die of mortification and disappointment, or something else unspeakably awful will occur. Maddie keeps telling him that he's catastrophizing, and he knows she's probably right, but that doesn't mean he can just make himself stop.

He's working on it.

Right now, Eddie is flopped across Buck's new couch—brown leather, wide and squashy and comfortable. Natalia helped him pick it out, and he feels a little weird about keeping it now, but the truth is that the couch turned out to be a better fit than the relationship. It's big enough for the two of them to sprawl on while they drink their beers and Eddie grumbles about his most recent date.

"I mean, you know, it was fine. Whatever," he says, with a huffy little shrug. Buck loves Eddie in every mood, but there's something especially charming about him when he's being petulant like this. Maybe because it's such a contrast to the calm, in-control face he presents to the rest of the world. Buck's not the only person who gets to have this part of Eddie, but he is a member of a select group.

"So no second date?" he asks, trying not to sound hopeful.

"He said I was 'a nice guy, but he didn't feel a connection'," Eddie says, with sarcastic one-handed finger-quotes. He takes another sullen pull on his beer.

"That's not so bad," Buck offers. Eddie's dates don't usually crash and burn the way Buck's have a tendency to, or did back when he was actually trying to date. People like Eddie. He's polite and kind and thoughtful, and reserved in a way that comes across as mysterious and fascinating instead of aloof. And that's without even getting into the fact that he looks like a fucking model, but most people know that part before they go out with him. Buck has no idea how anybody could go on a date with Eddie and not immediately fall head over heels in love with him, but he is admittedly a little biased.

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs. He pushes himself upright and tilts his head back against the couch, cradling his beer between his palms. "I know, it's not like I really wanted a second date either. It's just…"

"Rejection sucks?" Buck offers.

"That too. Mostly I'm just wondering how long I'm going to have to keep doing this before I find somebody I can have a connection with? Like, with Shannon, it was—"

"—bolt of lightning out of the blue?" Buck asks, because that was how it felt for him, with Eddie. That moment outside the ambulance, Eddie's blinding smile and warm handshake and the way something in him cracked wide open then and never really went away.

Eddie huffs. "Kind of. But—we were friends first. We already had that connection. You know? And then one day I looked at her and I felt like—"

He stops abruptly. If Buck wasn't already watching him, he'd probably miss the way Eddie's eyes flick toward him, and then away.

His stomach feels suddenly like he's on a rollercoaster, in giddy freefall.

"Like you were seeing something completely new?" he asks. He folds his hand tight around his beer, but he can feel it trembling.

Eddie takes a deep, visible breath, then nods and leans forward to set his beer down before turning back toward Buck.

"Yeah," he says quietly, and Buck is almost completely sure that they're not just talking about Shannon anymore. Eddie's face is open, his gaze clear, but Buck knows him well enough to detect the faint hint of nerves there.

That's the thing that finally gives him the courage to do what maybe he should have a long time ago.

"Can you just, uh." He clears his throat, then sets his beer down too. "Tell me if I'm totally misreading this?"

"Yeah, okay," Eddie whispers, but he doesn't pull back. Not when Buck shifts closer on the couch; not when he reaches out to settle a hand on Eddie's cheek, and not when he leans in to press a chaste, careful kiss to Eddie's lips.

It lingers softly for a moment, and then he pulls back and opens his eyes. Eddie blinks a couple of times, then smiles, sudden and bright.

"You're not misreading it," he says, and leans in to kiss Buck again.

(for these kiss prompts)

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #my fic #prompt fic

[bengiyo]

Hidden Agenda Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Zo and Joke went on a date to the amusement park and we learned that Zo went here with a boy in high school with whom he thought he shared a mutual attraction. That boy, Puen, sneered at Zo and told him he was wrong, and we also learned that Zo's former best friend made fun of him for this. Thus, we gained context for so much of Zo's reticence and his fear of making people uncomfortable. Later, we ran into Puen at the coffee shop Pok works at and learned that Puen did share Zo's feelings but was just scared in the closet. This resolution was enough to allow Zo to feel comfortable calling Joke his boyfriend and to properly kiss him.

In other threads, there was a weird bit with Joke's grandma where she pretended to be homophobic to make Zo struggle, and also we checked in with Pok and Jeng's closeted affairs. I appreciated Aou and Boom's enthusiasm, but am unsure what to do with the knowledge that Pok is being brave about the closet and Jeng is sympathetic about it.

Joong is very charming.

I feel like they should not answer repeated calls from a disturbing number and just block them.

Oh wow. Thank you, Zo.

Dunk's physique goes severely underutilized in BL.

Louis also has just so much screen presence.

Now I'm considering Louis and AJ as a pair... I would like to see it.

This Poom guy has a long neck.

I don't care for Poom.

Jeng said, "Meet me at our spot," and is now being crushed by performative heteronormativity.

Thinking about Sailom and Nuea, and how I argued that Nuea being out makes him in some ways safer than Lom as Jeng has to come clean about the high schooler.

Oh lord we got another biter.

Now Poom is gonna be in the apartment while the danger music is playing?

So stressed about this mail from the stalker after all the bombs that have been mailed in the past years.

Nooooooo. Poom knows about the spare key now.

Bro didn't even wait like a day before coming back and fucking with Zo. This is legit scary.

He's wiretapping Zo's bedroom WTF?

I hope we're done with this guy after that confrontation.

I like Zo taking an emotional leap to be intimate with Joke even if he doesn't think he can be sure, and also that his nervousness about his first time was acknowledged.

Welp. Looks like both couples fall apart next week.

I'm not sure I like the stalker plot, since it seems to offer inherent comparison with Joke's determined pursuit of Zo under potentially hidden pretenses. Still, I'm glad we've left room in the show for the breakup and reconciliation to maybe not feel rushed.

#hidden agenda #hidden agenda meta #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

[ashland-frost]

Straightforwardness

Sebastian x Frost

Beginning 6th year @ hogwarts

Sebastian's 5th year proved to be the most challenging one yet. Fueled by an unwavering determination to find a cure for his sister, he found himself caught between the warnings of his best friend about the dangers of dark arts. Amidst all this, a new student managed to find a special place in his heart. It was a year filled with countless events - he even found himself succumbing to anger and fear, leading to the unfortunate demise of his uncle. His best friend struggled to define their friendship, while his sister, after burying their uncle, couldn't look at him the same way anymore. And to add to the turmoil, his newfound friend contemplated sending him to Azkaban, but ultimately decided against it. As the summer before his 6th year approached, tragedy struck again, leaving Sebastian shattered, his sister Anne finally succumbed to the curse and died. However, he resolved to conceal his pain and put on a brave face.

As the new term commences, whispers about Sebastian's sister have already started circulating. People approach him with sympathetic apologies, but he has grown weary of hearing those words. "I'm sorry" seems meaningless now, as the damage has already been done and cannot be undone. Sebastian feels the need to apologize, but those who should hear it are not present. In such a situation, what can he possibly do?

Ominis and Sebastian are seated on the grass in the courtyard, discussing their preparations for the transfiguration class. Suddenly, a group of girls passes by, giggling and spreading rumors about Paris and Garreth going on a date in Hogsmeade. The girls express their surprise, as they believed Paris had feelings for Sebastian. One of them remarks, "I thought she had a crush on Sebastian," while another adds, "Yeah, poor Sebastian. I think he likes her. Just wait until he finds out... oh!" The girls abruptly stop and fall silent as they notice Sebastian's intense gaze fixed upon them.

Sebastian's voice lacked any hint of emotion as he addressed the group of ladies. "Please, don't let me interrupt your captivating conversation. I'm quite intrigued by the way my name seems to be on the tip of your tongues." His eyes, however, betrayed his true feelings. They were filled with a mixture of disappointment and displeasure. The girls, too frightened to respond, hastily made their exit, with Sebastian's gaze following their every move. He reclined back on the wall, shutting his book with a heavy sigh.

Ominis, concerned for his friend, couldn't help but address Sebastian. "Sebastian, I understand that now might not be the best time to ask if you're alright, but I can't help but worry. Are you alright?" Ominis knew that Sebastian had developed a fondness for Paris ever since she joined Hogwarts last year. He hoped that whatever had transpired wouldn't cause too much distress for his friend.

Gazing up at the sky, his expression inscrutable, he murmured, "I'm not sure... I really don't know." His fingers absentmindedly traced over the pages of his textbook, devoid of any motivation to continue studying. "I thought she felt the same way about me."

"I had the same impression, but she's quite impatient by nature. Maybe she's uncertain about your feelings towards her? I'm not exactly the best person to give relationship advice," Ominis admitted, feeling at a loss for words to comfort his friend.

"Well, if that's the case, then maybe she's not willing to wait for someone like me," his friend's voice was tinged with sadness, and Ominis could sense the hurt in his words.

Meanwhile in hogsmeade

"What the fuck am I seeing?" Frost asks, gazing at Garreth and Sebastian in various spots around Paris. "Ain't that bitch with Sebastian?"

"For Merlin's sake, Frost, watch your language!" Constance scolds.

Frost clicks her tongue. "So... are they a couple now?"

"Maybe? It certainly seems that way," Constance replies, glancing at the pair enjoying their date.

"Do you think I have a chance with Sallow now?" Frost inquires.

"You really don't waste any time, do you?" Constance chuckles.

“Nah not about it, Sallow is hot as fuck, did you see how much taller he is, those broad shoulders.. I wanna wrap my legs around them and pull on his hair” Frost bits her lips at the thought

“What is wrong with you…” she looks at her friend with concern

“Ahhh.. he's gonna be so crushed, look at them partially fucking” watching Garreth kiss Paris

“Frost!”

“What?”

“Please tell me your not about to talk to Sebastian that way”

Frost pouts slightly “ you crazy? I might scare him off, but it would be nice if he ends up liking my .. straightforwardness”

“Yeah.. straightforwardness is what we'll call it”

Evening

Sebastian stands solemnly by the weeping lovers statue, gazing at the rippling water.

“Interesting sight, huh?” Frost remarks, observing Sebastian's solitude.

“Do you plan on approaching him?”

“Right this instant?”

“what happened to no time wasted?”

“Alright, give me a moment,” she inhales deeply, then crouches down and stretches.

“What's with the dramatics? This isn't a duel.”

“Easy for you to say!”

Constance chuckles and playfully shoves her friend. “Good luck, and watch your tongue, don't scare the poor guy,” she teases before scampering off.

Frost let out a frustrated sigh and muttered, "Oh, fuck!" She then approached Sebastian, tilting her head up to look at him.

Sebastian's eyes shifted to see who was getting too close to him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of her. Her eyes were so bright and captivating, impossible to miss. "Can I help you?" he asked, curiously

Clearing her throat, Frost replied, "Actually, it is I who is here to help this little snake. He seems quite down, and this birdie wants to lend a hand."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly will this birdie help the snake? Besides, this snake is much bigger than this tiny little birdie."

"You know, birds eat snakes," Frost retorted.

Sebastian smirked. "And snakes eat small birds. So, what's your point?"

Frost's eyes narrowed, and she snapped back, "I'm not that small! You fucking anaconda!"

Sebastian was taken aback by her boldness, and he burst into laughter, clutching his sides. This made Frost pout. "I thought you wanted to help, not insult me, If I'm an anaconda, then I suppose that makes you a snow fairy, those cute little round balls," he teased, leaning down with a mischievous smirk on his face. It seemed their banter had lightened his mood considerably.

“You're lucky I like those birds but don't call me a round ball feels odd, and yes I was trying to make you feel better with all the things you been though and .. umm”

“And Paris going on a date with Garreth as everyone keeps talking about because they thought we were going to date? Is that it? Were you going to tell me sorry for my dead sister as well and the girl you like going out with someone else” he's face bearing a hint of annoyance it was always the same thing these days. Though he wasn't ready for her answer.

“Uhh well yeah sorry about Anne, she was a pretty awesome girl, but fuck Paris, I was gonna tell you, you're hot as fuck, you devilishly handsome fellow and you don't need that heifer” Frost relaized he had been cursing and Constance literally told her not to. Looking up at Sebastian's face she wasn't sure what expression he was making, but the corners of his mouth perked up into a smile.

“You sure curse like a sailor”

“Ah.. yeah sorry bout that”

“It's alright I rather like your … straightforwardness”

“Yeah that what we'll call it”

It was silent between them for a moment as they stared at each other.

“Well.. I was going to be all polite and stuff but that didn't work so, argh I'll just give you some advice.. not that I really want to but I'll say two things”

He raises a brow “ alright let's have it”

“One, don't fancy this option it's not in my best interest but, just confess you like the heifer and don't mind Garreth.. I'm sure she likes you and your far better than him”

“Mmmh you don't like gingers?”

“Oh no,.. your voice is just hundred times more pleasant to my ear”

“I see, and the second bit of advice?” he chuckled and stared at her curiously

“Second.. forget her and find someone that will wait for you”

That was somehow he didn't expect to hear from anyone “ that will wait for me?” He says low

She feels embarrassed her eyes dart around and then go back to him “ yeah wait for you, you just lost your sister over the summer and I could see even before, last year you were a bit of a mess, I feel if she really likes you she'd wait for you or at the very least confirm your feelings for each first before cuddling up to another guy..I don't mean to over step as we don't talk much but those are my thoughts”

Sebastian turns and leans with his back fully on the wall, he's silent with his arms folded lost in thought, Frost waits patiently fiddling with her fingers.

He looks back at her “ thank you”

“You're… welcome” she says softly

The bell rings for signaling time for dinner.

He moves from the wall “guess it's dinner time, and I suppose I'll take your advice, see you around little snow fairy” he walks away

“Wait! One or Two?” She yells

He laughs still walking off “ you'll find out soon enough”

“Soon enough my arse, I have no patience for shit.. fuckk” Frost makes her way to the Great Hall for dinner running into Constance “so how did it go?”

“Well?” she says Reluctantly

“you cursed, didn't you?”

“yup”

“how much are we talking ?”

“I called him a fucking anaconda and called Paris a heifer..”

“... what did he say?”

“he laughed.. he laughed and said he liked my straightforwardness”

“Well fuck”

“language Conny!”

“oh stuff it!” They both laughed.

Sitting at the Ravenclaw table the two girls talked and laughed. Constance felt like someone was looking at them, she saw Sebastian staring at Frost which made her giggle, her friend finally got the attention of her crush and hopes it's not just a one time thing.

“What are you giggling about, Conny?”

“Eat your food and vegetables too”

“Ugh.. seriously what are you? Just look at these green things .. it's too bitter”

“Thought you liked green things” she smirks

“.... no comment”

At the Slytherin table

“Do tell me what has caught your attention so much that you are not listening to my amazing voice, is it still about earlier or is it something else?” askes Ominis

“A bit of both I believe, I had an interesting conversation with a little bird that curses like crazy”

“Ah that would be Ash Frost I take it, she's good for a laugh, did she confess her undying love for you?”

“Her what?”

“Oh.. so no then, though she would, poor girl's been head over heels for you for awhile”

“How do you know that?”

“Sebastian, it's me, I know everything that happens here, Gossip Gaunt hello!”

“You're unbelievable, you sure she likes me?”

“Mm? Did she actually manage to get your attention?”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Because Sebastian Sallow, I don't think you really know yourself well, your a friendly guy but you always keep a wall up .. even with me, I was surprised how well you got along with Paris so quickly but now you two barely talk”

“A Lot has happened..”

“I know that, I do. Just be careful getting along too quickly with someone again.. though I'm fine if it's her”

“You're fine with Frost, why?”

“Talk to her more and you'll see, you too are very much alike, she's just very well naughty is probably a nice way to put it”

“She gets in trouble?”

“No her mouth just says whatever she thinks and I'm sure you'd be surprised by what she says about you”

“Oh you mean like.. oh! Yeah I can see that”

“So what did you talk about with her?”

“Well.. she told me to either tell Paris how I feel or in her words fuck that heifer and find someone else”

Ominis spat out his tea “ Bloody hell.. you should marry her”

“Ominis!”

‘What, listen Sallow any person that truly cares for you will tell you want you need to hear and the fact that she likes you but still tells you to confess to another is amazing, I would never”

“Yeah.. she's something”

“Indeed, now eat your chicken you haven't taken one bite”

“you're blind how do you know and I'm not in the mood for it”

“You sure, aren't birds your thing now?”

“Fuck you”

“Oh she's rubbing off on you already”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x oc #fan fiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic

[titleknown]

A Couple of Essays I Did On Artists' Rights And AI Art

So, I'm gonna be posting a couple of essays I did on Pillowfort on AI art and the talk about datasets, the second one having been written a couple of weeks after the first.

Long story short, while I'm sympathetic to traditional artists' concerns about the dataset issue, as a copyright minimalist I'm also scared about how much they're parroting copyright-maximalist rhetoric in a way that's taking some dangerous routes to be used as tools for big Copyright to further increase its death-grip on culture, and maybe we should use this occasion re-examine the way we think about copyright and how we handle the idea of the moral rights of the artist in light of this issue.

Long story long... well, that's why I'm putting it past the break:

On AI Art Datasets, Copyright and "Theft"

...On the AI art issue, I will confess as someone who's cared about how bloated and awful copyright law is for years, it genuinely disturbs me that everyone's talking about the dataset for... well, really most AI art as an act of deliberate theft, when the reality is significantly more complicated, and the conception of it as theft feels like it's pushing people down a dangerous path they're not entirely aware of.

The thing is, the LAION dataset, which everyone refers to, is basically an attempt to crawl the entire internet for basically everything that has alt-text and sort it by how well the alt text matches up with the images. That's it. It's literally like a search engine crawler with the intention of "map the internet" rather than "find art".

And it is very; very dumb and brute force. That's how it ended up going through medical records, not any sinister intent, but because it's so stupid it looks for anything public with alt-text.

You can and probably should take issue with that, because it indicates failures to anticipate this on LAION's part and massive security failures on the part of those holding the data (And really this whole issue is more about data privacy than copyright) but it's not an issue of their intent being bad; it's an issue of the failure to account for that factor.

Another thing, it is actually very bad at categorizing artists by name. Like, through my multiple checks in the "Have I Been Trained" site; unless you're a big name professional artist, it almost definitely will not catalogue you by name.

If someone's looking to use your name in a prompt to avoid commissioning you, they are fools swindling themselves, and you should disabuse those cretins of their illusions, if only to discourage that behavior.

That's not to say I haven't run into the works of smaller artists I know (Who I've informed when I have, for the record), it's just that for better or for worse their work is genericized...

....Tho if you run into any works from artists you know in a dataset search, you should probably tell them, just so they're informed and can have it removed if they want.

And, following from that, for clarity's sake, even if you are informed, I don't think it's invalid to be scared of the potential impacts of AI art and the issue of data privacy (Which issues with the dataset are, as Tangibletechromancy talks about). In fact, I did see a post on Pillowfort expressing those sentiments that was relatively understandable. 

And it's not like there's no issue with the way they draw from the commons. As I've talked about before on my Tumblr, it's abhorrent that certain models draw from the commons but then make their models closed source and put them behind a paywall. Because it's taking from the commons and giving nothing back. 

Hell, the only reason I'm able to find other artists' art and inform them so they can have it taken out of the dataset is because Stablediffusion at least makes its model Open Source and its dataset publicly visible, both of which I think should be required for anything that uses that public data scraping. 

And it sucks that Midjourney and OpenAI are getting a lot less scrutiny than Stablediffusion when SD is arguably the one doing it the most correctly (Though I have heard MJ plans to eventually make itself Open Source, which, we'll see), and the former two ought to be looked at with a lot more skepticism...

...But my point is, it's less of an issue of deliberate theft and more Google Maps finding that one house of Barbra Streisand's she didn't want found. It's a survey of the commons of the internet trying to get as wide a picture as possible, for a set of "rules" as to what images look like (Note the AI model stores none of the actual images) and the conception of that as "theft" is what disturbs me.

Because, the idea that that 1/600,000,000th of a random image might end up influencing another's work without authorization relies on the idea of any derivative works as theft. 

With that 1/600,000,000th it takes less direct inspiration than an artist doing a pastiche or; arguably; even drawing from common experience would; even accounting for the other factors influencing it in an artist's mind because; hey; the AI has that too; as this post from friend of the blog Tangibletechromancy talks about.

It's an alien form of such compared to humans, but it is a form of that, because the dataset is big and dumb and anyone who's worked with stuff like Stablediffusion knows it reflects how dumb that sort of learning is.

And criminalizing that would definitely have knock-on effects, as this post by Trent Troop points out. Disney doesn't want to outlaw AI art; it has enough of a treasure hoard of works which it owns the copyright to to train its own. It wants an AI only it can use while drawing from copyrighted works, while copyright walls off access to it to everyone else. 

And it disturbs me so, so much that a lot of people against this are fanartists not knowing the precedent this could set; or hell; even the fact that the guy who started the train rolling on this moral panic; RJ Palmer; got his start doing Pokemon fanart, because the legal precedent that criminalizes this could very easily criminalize that too.

And, on a personal level, I have heard that argument well before that people should "stop stealing and Be Original," by people who... basically want to criminalize the concept of derivative works in general. People who believe that copyright should be perpetual, despite the concept of copyright as anything other than a temporary legal protection being very; very young from a historical perspective.

Like, you would not believe the shit I have seen. I have seen my producing teacher in college, who's most prominent producing credit was one of the worst modern horror remakes, argue that copyright should be perpetual in a metaphor comparing art to a family gas station. I have seen one person argue that the concept of derivative works itself should be outlawed to prevent them from diluting the original author's intent.

That person ended up rallying most of the other folks on a Discord server against me and driving me off of there. Not that I'm bitter or anything.

And I see that pattern in AI art, the animating sentiment that "derivative works are theft," with the same old "But it's different this time" framework laid over it. And believe me, I have seen enough "It's different this time" sentiments to be deeply skeptical of "but it's different this time."

In fact, that is why I'm scared in a way that motivates me to post this, because upon seeing anti-AI-art arguments going on like in the comments of this one post by the Staff of Pillowfort, I'm like, "oh god, I've heard this before," and where I've heard it before ain't good.

I see people trying to make the treatment of AI art akin to the way the RIAA treats music, despite the fact that that would be a horrible idea as this post points out, and people talking about wanting Disney to "save them" from AI art even though; again; Disney's more likely goal would be to use their own in-house trained AI to cut jobs while preventing anyone else from using it.

And I am deeply demoralized by the fact that over the time I've cared about it, from a perspective of material change this issue of fighting back against the bloat of copyright maximalism has basically never gotten any better (beyond the "Luigi wins by doing nothing" concession of stuff finally being allowed to go into the public domain very slowly in the US), and is very likely to get even worse

I have been angry for years that there's been no real legislative efforts to; say; decrease copyright duration or expand fair use, and now I'm living to likely see fair use shrunk even more. I will curse RJ Palmer's name until the day I die for single-handedly sparking this moral panic and basically undoing decades of work by copyright minimalists to kill the copyright cop in people's heads over a matter of months.

I come to my positions on AI art from years of being angry about copyright bloat and seeing the same patterns in the idea of it as "theft" as I do on people who were defending our current copyright nightmare before this, and I wish more people would push back on that. 

And if you have concerns about AI art and want to shape it right, I will point out, we have a Discord server...

Thoughts on AI Art and Moral Rights

I had some Thoughts wrt the debate on moral rights with regards to AI art datasets that I figured I might as well share with y'all, because I think the issues raised are more complicated than a lot of people say, and not in the ways y'all might think.

Like, it's a common talking point in the pro-AI-art circles that, even if the fair use defense were cracked down on, big megacorps that own huge swaths of images; such as Disney, Warner, ect, could still use the images they legally own; without the permission of their creators; to train their own AIs.

Which could, of course, lead to the same nightmare job loss scenarios that folks are talking about; again using artists' works to replace them without their permission, except the tools are behind a corporate wall and with no copyright ambiguity because; again; they own the images wholesale.

I've in fact heard it argued that; with the whole attempts by anti-AI-art people to join with Big Copyright's astroturf organization to expand copyright, that's what Disney wants, more crackdowns on copyright so they can use their own AI and you can't.

So, it's not a case of respecting artists' rights or don't. It's a case of whether everyone gets to use this tech at full power, or only Disney/Warner/et al are able to use it while the public gets a significantly weaker version trained on Wikimedia et-al.

The artists' rights; as articulated by those who are against AI art; are already fucked either way. Which, I am not saying as a gotcha. 

Rather because, while I know which of those two options I'd prefer,I sympathize with the fact that it fucking suuuuuucks for those creators who care about the moral rights of artists, and I want to examine institutionally why things are like that.

To start, a question: Why; beyond the legal reasons; is it okay for monopolists like Disney to violate creators' rights to control their work in that way; but not for wider-scale open-source projects like StableDiffusion to?

Some would say that it's because the megacorps pay and ask them. But, those often also end up as theft far more egregious than image synthesis programs do.

We all know the way that Spotify's "royalties" pay only pennies to creators and most of the actual profit to Spotify and the record labels that own the music themselves. Some even predict that that's how a license for using one's images in AI would go, which I think should give you pause.

And, we all know those stories of Marvel artists and writers wasting away in poverty and disease in their old age while Disney makes billions of the MCU and doesn't give them a dime. Totally legally allowable, they did get paid a pittance, once, but the billons more they never saw a dime of makes the difference in money not given to artists between them and the AI's unauthorized use more or less academic if we're going by sheer proportion.

One could argue it was even worse in the long-run, because AI's use doesn't technically force the subject's art behind a copyright wall and prevent the original user from using it, whereas the copyright landlords do, but that's probably it's own debate I can't get into at the time.

My point is, what the megacorps do is just as much theft if not moreso than what image synthesis training does, and the thin veneer of payment only obfuscates the vast degree of theft they do, which they only get away with because of how thoroughly it has been normalized.

And that's even before we get into the fact that it's hard to say you "consented" to it when your choices were "have the thing not exist and starve on the street" or "give us total control over what you create/"

But then, the natural answer of course you'll probably say after that to my first question (Why is it okay if Disney trains on my work without consent but it isn't for SD) is, of course, that it isn't.

But then, if you think of it purely in terms of copyright law (ignoring the fair use arguments for datasets), there should be no problem with what Disney does. They were "given" the copyrights fair and square, in the same way you would "give" a mafioso protection, but it was still fully sanctioned by the copyright system.

And yet, in a moral sense, there is. And, I think an important idea to articulate why this is a problem is the idea of moral rights.

The concept of "moral rights" in art is one that I don't see talked about much directly. Long story short, it is the idea that the artist has the rights to not have their work mangled and to be credited. Notably, it is considered a separate right from copyrights, non fungible in the way those are.

Note also that, it does not legally exist as a concept in the US, at least not to the significant degrees it does in other nations. But, I've noticed that the way a lot of people talk about copyright basically conflates the two. 

Which makes me wonder how much this debate comes from a US-based perspective, but I digress.

Like, a lot of the dialogue I've heard on why copyright is sacred; and especially from those who think it should be perpetual, isn't just about economic fears, but about the fear of your work being messed with and warped by those who don't understand it. 

They see copyright as the end-all be-all when it comes to protections for moral rights, because of how interchangable the two concepts have been made in the public dialogue. Copyrights require authorization from the holder to work with, they place the mark of their creator upon them, therefore they are thought of as valid insurance of those.

But, the point I'm leading to is this viewpoint doesn't really work. Because copyright on its own is a godawful protector of moral rights.

Like, the problem with copyright as a protector of moral rights is, it depends on a landlord model of security, IE the idea that individual ownership of "property" (even intellectual property( rather than collective protections will keep you safe. 

The trouble is, as Cory Doctorow has pointed out with regards to regular landlords, not only does that sort of commodification create a grotesque incentive to make things harder for those who don't have it (Such as, say, small creators with new ideas crowded out by legacy IP), but in the end power always gets consolidated under that system under the big guys.

Lucas sold his creation to Disney, Eastman and Laird sold theirs to Viacom. The fungibility of copyright; the ability of it to be bought and sold on the market, makes it a terrible means of protecting moral rights if you have to sell it to make a living, because once it belongs to a megacorp, they can do whatever they want with it, and that consolidation makes it harder for artists like you to show up.

In the case of collaborative works done under big megacorps, it's even worse because you have to give away those rights from day one to allow it to even exist. Look at what happened to creators under the whole HBO Max purge, copyright did nothing to prevent their work from being erased.Copyright did not do a thing to protect their moral rights.

Even in the case of estates, Doctor Seuss would be rolling in his goddamn grave at the Ilumination Lorax, and I'm pretty sure you can faintly hear Tolkien clawing his way out of the earth at Rings of Power being made by Jeff "Sauruman" Bezos.Copyright did not protect their works from desecration.

But the way we conflate moral rights with copyright in the conversation is very useful for those IP hoarders who want to expand their grip over the collective creative commons. It creates a broad base of public support amongst working creators for these copyright power grabs even if, as Doctorow mentions, it only benefits the top players due to their ability to buy everyone out and use their monopoly power to squeeze smaller creators further.

In fact, to bring it full circle, that's why I talked so much about why we need to push back against the idea of "theft" in datasets. Because the rhetoric of "theft," only makes coherent sense through a copyright lends, because how different piracy or derivative works actually are from; say; physical theft. 

There's a reason why "You wouldn't download a car" is a widely mocked concept. And I think that the accusations of theft are doing that exact same work of conflating moral rights for the artists to control their work to copyright, and as I have stated before, that is a very dangerous game.

This is why, I think, those of us concerned about moral rights need to start imagining means of protecting moral rights beyond and in place of copyright, because the conflation of them with copyright not only is ineffective, but also leads to those massive power grabs that undermine moral rights via monopolies. 

And, when you think of moral rights beyond the lens of copyright, it opens up far; far more avenues of thought to you.

Like, for example on AI art, the idea I've heard to focus on image scraping as a data privacy issue and not as a copyright one, because as a friend said the copyright angle is the least concerning use of scraped data for machine learning TBH. 

Or, to encourage practices such as Are We Art Yet's rules of ethics, which I think is deeply useful as a framework for engagement, and any AI art community should adopt them or something similar...

...Tho, thinking about it, a lot of the fears with regards to AI art and moral rights relate to Pillowfort user osteophage talking about how Tumblr; and to an even greater extent other social media sites like Twitter I'd assert; undermines community and the process of building communal norms, and how a lot of the fear is regarding to the breaking of communal norms in ways that'd devastate the commission/small artist economy.

Though that's its own ramble, which a friend of mine has sorta-addressed, but which I do want to give my own two cents on in the future.

Point is, I think the issues raised with regards to rights via AI datasets raise much deeper; more long-term questions regarding the nature of moral rights and the way they've been co-opted by copyright monopolists, and I urge you to direct your thoughts to those questions and what answers you might have for them.

If only because it will allow you to act much more wisely upon this topic rather than being lead around by the nose by copyright monopolists on it...

#ai art #image synthesis #my writing #copyright #moral rights #artists' rights #rambling #shut up titleknown

[daylightaftertherain]

1 but Simon sings off-key?

asdhkhjf YES ANON

I have a popstar!simon au somewhere in my pile of wip ideas, so in this one simon's a famous singer and I make him sing taylor songs <3

Wille's day was going as expected, up until the popstar struggling through Taylor Swift in the car next to him.

He'd gone to his only class for the day, endured an hour long phone call from his mother, complained about it to the group chat, and again in a phone call to his brother, then gone to pick up some groceries while ducking multiple paparazzos.

All normal things (his therapist would probably disagree, admittedly), or as normal as one could get while being a sleep-deprived uni student and the crown prince of the country, anyway.

He's unloading groceries and random supplies for Madison's most recent crochet project into his car (his bodyguard drives the car, but close enough) when the singing begins. He pauses, does a 360 around the parking lot, and lands on a figure in the car right next to him, who's singing very loudly and very badly.

This wouldn't be out of the ordinary with most people, Wille included, but the person singing is Simon Eriksson. As in, internationally recognized and openly gay popstar, Simon Eriksson, who broke multiple records with his first album alone, who is about to go on tour in a week, and is in running for Best New Artist at the fucking Grammys. Simon Eriksson, who's gotten himself in minor scandals after multiple anti-monarchist posts. Simon Eriksson, sitting in a car a couple meters away from Wille with his hair up in a messy bun, singing off key but still looking devastatingly gorgeous.

Wille is also slightly obsessed with him, but that's besides the point.

Simon is singing along to an old Taylor Swift song (the rerecorded version, though. Felice and the girls keep him updated on things like that), and it's not going too well. Wille was dumped into piano lessons at age ten, so he has at least some knowledge. He's not sure his mother meant for him to use that knowledge to drool over compilations of Simon belting out high notes perfectly, though.

Said singer has just reached the bridge, and his voice cracks right in the middle of it, prompting a loud and exasperated "motherfucking shitballs."

Wille bursts into laughter, naturally. Simon's head whips up, and his eyes go wide at a prince wheezing at him as the music shifts from "You Belong with Me" to "Enchanted." This is a pretty bad first meeting to the meet-cute song, he muses half-hysterically.

"Okay, either my brain's been completely cooked by this fucking plague, or you're the... crown prince, laughing at what I assume is my singing," Simon comments, rolling the window down with a confused smile.

"God, I'm sorry, that was just really funny to me for no reason," Wille gasps, reining back his laughter with every bit of experience he's gathered from years of keeping up a proper appearance at royal events. "I swear i'm not being an asshole or anything, it's just been a kinda long day, and you- you're Simon Eriksson."

"Wow, a prince knows my name," Simon drawls, "I'm flattered, Your Majesty." (he's using the wrong term and it shouldn't be cute, but it is)

"Just call me Wille," he says, finally recovering from his laughing fit.

"Sure, Wille."

"And uh, you don't have to answer, but.. what was that?"

Simon huffs, but the smile doesn't leave his eyes. "I was stupid enough to get a cold four days before tour, and it's been fucking up my singing. My manager's threatened my life twice already, my tour manager is on the brink, my mother's about to camp outside my house with soup, and my sister called me a quote unquote 'lovable idiot'" he sighs, emphasizing his point when he sneezes violently at the end of his spiel.

"That sucks, I can kinda relate," Wille says sympathetically, "I got the flu the day before a state dinner once and had to stand and shake people's hands for two hours."

"The struggles of being public figures," Simon says dramatically, cracking another smile when Wille giggles embarrassingly like a fucking sixteen year old. He cannot believe he's meeting his gay crush of over two years in a parking lot after laughing at his illness-affected singing. This is terrible. He'd also like to keep talking to Simon for another three hours.

"I-Is your manager as scary as she looks in photos?" Great job, Wille, you're revealing exactly how deep into this fandom you are to the subject of said fandom.

Realization creeps across Simon's face, and Wille wants to die. "Oh, you're a fan, huh?" he smirks. Wille shrugs faux-casually. Simon laughs.

"Well, to answer your question, Vera is probably scarier, but she's secretly a softie who definitely loves me. She'd probably stab me if she knew I said that, though."

Just then, Wille's bodyguard coughs quietly behind him; a sign that they should probably get going before someone notices him talking to another also highly recognizable figure. Simon's eyes swivel to her briefly then back to Wille.

"Well, I've had bodyguards for long enough that I know you should probably go, but hey, I'll DM you on Insta or something and get you tickets to a show if this sore throat doesn't send me to an early grave," Simon offers.

"Oh- um, okay," Wille agrees. He sees Simon's face soften into a warm smile, one that takes over his entire face, and he waves cheerfully before rolling up the window again and attempt to sing along to the Glitch chorus as he drives away.

(Their stupid first conversation is Simon's favorite thing to bring up at a party a year later and seven months into their relationship.)

-💜🎶-

simon you silly silly man, you let your throat rest, not strain it even more by attempting high notes that will absolutely not help

#ask game #anon #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm #young royals

[if-mirrormine]

hey alli!!!

in honor of our collective obsession and love for grayson, can u tell us a little bit of his relationship w nora n callie after mcs disappearance? like what did nora thought of grayson's choice to be a detective?

love uuu❤

grayson spent every waking hour with, doing anything and everything he could to help. nora was very grateful to have him there, he became her rock. for a while, callie didn't like being around him because he just reminded them of the mc and the fact that they were gone. it was probably a couple years before they warmed up to him again.

he also spent a lot of time in the restaurant, which coincidentally was where he told nora he was dropping out:

the restaurant is packed and grayson can barely hear himself think. he sits at the bar counter, his head buried in his hand and his hair gripped tight between his fingers. he squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to ease the burning sensation; he so very tired, he can't even remember the last time he slept more than a hour. a couple months ago maybe. but he can't sleep, not until he finds them.

he jolts up when he feels a soft tap on his shoulder and his bloodshot eyes find nora's. she stands behind the counter, a pot of coffee in one hand and an apron covering her uniform. she gives him a sympathetic smile and he thinks she looks just as worse for wear as he does.

"gray, honey, do you want some more coffee?" she asks as she holds up the coffee pot. she knows she can't convince to go home and sleep; she's tried to and failed dozens of times before. "we can't have you passing out in the middle of the restaurant."

he nods and pushes his empty mug towards her, resting his head in his hand once more. she fills the cup and she doesn't even get the chance to add milk or sugar before he's pulled it back to him, taking a long sip. the taste is bitter on his tongue and he doesn't think he'll ever get used to it, let alone like it.

"i've been meaning to ask you," she starts as his eyes flick up to her, watching as the expression on her face morphs into one of concern. "what's happening with your classes? you've been spending so much helping out here, i'm sure you want to get back to studying before you fall behind."

he takes another sip and avoids her eyes. "nothing," he says quietly. "i'm dropping out."

"what?" he hears the admonishing tone of her voice and the loud thud of coffee pot being set down on the counter. "grayson, you can't be serious." he glances up at her, hoping to convey just how serious he is without saying anything and by the angry look she shoots him, he knows he's succeeded. "why?"

"i just..." he loses the words and he doesn't know how get them back. if anyone would understand how he feels, it's nora but he still doesn't know how to say as much. feeling tears prick at the back of his eyes, he drags a hand through his hair and looks at her. "i can't do it anymore."

at this, she frowns. "grayson... they wouldn't want you to drop out because of them."

"i know... but i have to, nora." he pauses and looks down at the last dregs of his coffee. "i have to."

"what are you going to do instead?"

"i applied for an internship at the police department."

he eyebrows shoot up in surprise and she opens her mouth to say one thing before changing her mind, instead choosing to say; "have you told your parents?"

he sighs, shaking his head. "you won't tell them, will you?"

"gray, i don't speak polish or french," she says, giving him a small smile. "i couldn't tell them even if i wanted to."

he slowly returns her smile. "you make a good point." he takes sip of coffee, the warm mug heating his hands. "i'll tell them soon."

"good." glancing at her watch, she heaves a sigh and shrugs off her apron. "i have to go pick up callie. will you hold down the fort?"

he gives her a nod and reaches a hand out for her apron. he stands up, draining the last of his coffee and slips the apron on, just as she rounds the counter to pull him into a tight hug.

"we'll find them," she says softly. "i know we will."

he hugs her back, leaning down to press his cheek to the top of her head. yeah, he thinks. i hope so.

#mm: grayson #mm: nora #mirror mine #message received☎️ #anonymous

[myevanlydaddy]

Melting part 2

Kit Walker × Reader

Authors note: im so sorry it's been a couple weeks guys. my mental health was NOT good. here's part 2! happy late Thanksgiving!!

Warnings: smut, language, mentions of not believing women, mentions of electro therapy, feel free to let me know what else i need to add!

Five days have passed since I met Kit at Briarcliff Manor, though it feels like I've known him for years. And the days seem so much longer as I dread this unethical electro therapy Sister Jude requests for me.

"That's terrible and inhumane!" Kit exclaimed as I crumpled the paper cup once filled with water he graciously handed me after my little breakdown. He looked furious, "Why? How can they do this?"

I swallowed a big lump in my throat, "My husband, who admitted me here, gave permission and Sister Jude was very pleased with it."

"What? Why would yah husband do that to you?"

I swallowed another lump but this time it didn't disappear and tears streamed down my face. "I caught my husband cheating on me and I refused to sleep with him for some time. He didn't know I saw him though, until I decided to tell him I wanted a divorce. That was the night he dropped me off here. I thought he was taking me to my parents like he said he was."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." His sincere tone mixed with his Boston accent somehow made him more sexier. He cupped his right hand over my left cheek and used his thumb to wipe away my tear. "I've found a way out of here. When the time's right, I'm running, and you're comin' with."

After that, we spent every minute we could together. Telling eachother about ourselves, talking about our lives outside of the asylum, what the future would hopefully be like, and, most importantly, the plan to escape.

"Theres these tunnels that leads to the outside. No one knows about them."

I looked at Kit suspiciously, "And how do you know about them?"

"My friend Lana," he sighed, "we tried to escape one time but it didn't go as planned." Kit looked at the floor as if he regrets something. "I don't know where she is. I think she somehow got out. I hope so, I hope she's safe."

I gave him a sympathetic look, taking his hand in mine and gently squeezing, letting him know I'm here for him.

The plan was, when the time was right, Kit would turn off the music that was always playing in the day room. Some French song that repeated over and over. We don't really understand why that one song was so important, just that he, and even I, were warned not to touch it, that it would cause a problem. Luckily it'll give us a chance to run, and luck was the only thing we had.

We were working in the kitchen today, I was dealing with rolling out dough with Kit on the opposite side of me kneading it. "5 minutes till' the shift is ova'. You ready to do this?" He whispered with his eyes glued on the dough.

I looked up at him surprised, "Tonight?"

"Yeah." His fingers looked so perfect working on the dough, I couldn't help but fixate. "Everyone is excited about work being done that they will be off the walls, on top of the music, hopefully that'll be ou' way out."

My eyes lingered on him, "Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I'm ready."

Kit must have felt me staring, he took his eyes off his work and gave me a teasing smirk and then back down. All in a blink of an eye. "You know, we shouldn't draw attention to ourselves." I immediately looked back down and continued rolling out the dough, heat rising in my cheeks. "We should keep ou' distance in the day room, can you do that fah me, doll?"

Millions of butterflies entered my stomach while I managed out a quiet little "Uh".

Before I could actually respond, he added, "Don't worry about the music either, I got that unda' control."

A guard scared me out of my thoughts, "Alright, works over, clean up and head out."

One of the sisters came up to me and Kit, "Don't worry about the dough, I'll take care of it." She bundled together the dough on the table and scuddled off.

Kit came around the table to meet me, checking to see if anyone is looking, "Go on out, I'll wash up the table," he softly kissed my cheek, "see you out there." He walked off to get some cleaning supplies.

I stood there for what seemed like so long, melting from his lips on my cheek. I left for the day room though, before he came back.

I went to grab a seat. As soon as i sat down I saw Sister Jude walk in, heading straight for me. She stood right in front of me, "Y/N,"

"Hi, Sister Jude."

She cleared her throat, "I've been seeing you around with a new friend."

"Oh?"

"Kit Walker."

"Oh."

"You do know why Mr. Walker is in here, right?" She spews.

"I do." He told me what actually happened to him and Alma right after I told him about me and my husband. Given the circumstances with my situation, why shouldn't I believe him?

I saw Kit walk in out of the corner of my eye. He was staring at Sister Jude and I, probably thinking the same thing I was, 'hurry the hell up'. Then all I could remember was his warm lips on my cheek and I started getting hot.

"Mrs. Brown," I snapped out of my thoughts, "are you okay? You look faint."

I collected myself to reply firmly, "Don't call me that, that is my soon to be ex-husband's name."

"Still in denial I see." She snickered, "Anyway, I came to see you to let you know your electro therapy starts tomorrow first thing in the morning. You are not to eat or drink anything the rest of the night. Don't make me put you in solitary." And with that, she walked off.

My stomach churned. This plan has to work, I have to get out of here.

Kit winked at me and a couple seconds later, he tripped over his foot and put his hand out on the table where the music was playing. The record player toppled over but only the record broke. The room was quiet for a split second, then all of a sudden, panic gloomed over the patients. Screaming and violent outburst came from every direction, guards and sisters running into the room to help.

Sister Jude yelled out, "I have another record in my office!" and ran off.

I started slowly backing off into the hall and Kit followed. "Lets get the hell outta here." he whispers in my ear. He grabs ahold of my hand and pulls me with him all the way to the back of the building to the boiler room. "Help me move this, doll."

Immediately I let go of his hand to help him move a large bed-looking cushion off the wall. Only it wasn't a wall, it was a very well hidden, hidden door.

Kit opened it up quickly and grabbed my hand again, "Lets go!"

We ran down a long dark hall that eventually ended with another door leading outsode. I stepped out, breathing the fresh air in like it was my first breath. I started crying "We did it Kit! I can't believe we actually did it!"

"Not yet, doll." His voice seemed scared and I followed his gaze. I only caught a glimpse of something crawling towards us and I screamed. Kit took off running after making sure our fingers were tightly interlocked so I would follow right behind him. we ran through the woods for what seemed like an eternity, ducking under branches and barley missing the tree roots poking out of the ground, bullying us to trip, before reaching the road. We ran to the other side, into the brush and hid behind some trees.

I let go of Kits hand and grabbed my stomach, panting, "What the fuck was that!?"

"No idea, that's what me and Lana ran into last time. We were so scared. I couldn't stop thinking about it and I didn't see any legs on it before so I figured we could outrun it."

"We?" I said, standing up straighter but still grasping for air.

"Yeah," He breathed heavily, "I didn't think about that until I met you. I had to figure out a way to break you out of there."

We stared at each other in that moment. Our deep inhales and exhales mimicking the other. Suddenly, Kit stepped forward, backing me up against a tree, and kissed me with such intensity and hunger. I felt high, meeting his needy kiss and opening my mouth to welcome his tongue to explore. My hands cupped his face while his groped my chest. "Mm, Kit are you sure?"

His hands covered my breasts, massaging them even harder, "Shhh, baby. I've been wanting this as soon as I saw yah beautiful face."

Heat pooled in my underwear. His voice, his words, his face is so goddamn sexy. I blushed and he could tell, taking his hand off my chest and gliding it over my cheek. He pulled away from my lips to whisper, "You're so fucking cute." His fingers left my cheek and tangled in the base of my hair. Pulling my head back, he started kissing and sucking. Little moans escaped my mouth. His other hand reached underneath my Briarcliff gown and gently started rubbing the sweet bundle of nerves through my clothed pussy. "You're so wet for me, doll," he groand, his thumb circling my clit faster with each moan he pulls from me.

"K-Kit I need you, p-please."

As soon as he heard that sentence, he immediately dropped his pants and underwear, relieving the bulge from the tight fabric. He rubs the tip of his cock on my clit while I frantically entangle my fingers in his hair. The world stopped spinning once he thrusted in and simultaneously sighed together. Like, we were meant to be. He pulled my head back with each thrust and sucked on my earlobe giving me a new sense of adrenaline.

"I-I-Im gonna c-cum, K-Kit." I managed to squeal out.

"That's it, doll, cum fah me."

My walls tighten around him, obeying his demand as I quietly scream in pleasure. My release sparked his shortly after. Grunting, he kisses me a few times lovingly. He moves to pull his pants up, "Let's sit right here together fah a few before we start hiking again, doll." He grabs my hand, then sits on the ground.

Still dazed from everything, I smiled and sat down next to him and lay my head on his shoulder, "Sounds lovely."

#ahs #american horror story #ahs fandom #ahsfx #evan peters #ahs fanfic #evan peters fanfic #kit walker #kit walker × reader #kit walker fanfiction #ahs kit walker #ahs characters #ahs asylum #american horror story asylum #smut #fanfic #my wriring #mine

[jurassicsickfics]

This isn't for any specific fic but poly sick dynamics have me😍🥰💖✨💓💫

Especially when there's multiple caretaker/sickie dynamics

One super squeamish one caretaker, one super tolerant one and one that's kinda I the middle. Also Bonus if one or more of the caretakers also get sick because they just tried to be there for sickie.

Sure thing! I hope you enjoy!

It was a hot summer day in Haddonfield. Laurie, Annie and Lynda had spent most of the day in Laurie's sizeable backyard. Lynda had gotten her fair share of sunbathing in; she had full intentions of showing off to Bob later. Annie had been counting the grasshoppers, and she kept remarking about how, "There's so many of them this year!". And Laurie had been going back and forth between the covered back porch and getting some tanning in as well. It had been a peaceful day, but, even through the summer bliss, all 3 of the girls had mentioned not feeling well at some point or another.

At one point, Lynda had sprayed herself down with the water hose, because her stomach started to cramp up and she assumed she was getting too hot. The water helped for a while, but, then the uncomfortable, bubbly feeling came back.

Meanwhile, Annie had been having an odd, tingly, butterflies feeling in her belly. She described it to Laurie as "feels like I'm nervous, but I'm not". The brunette had eventually chalked it up to her nerves trying to calm down after finals last week, not being in school did take some getting used to, after all.

And Laurie, well, she'd been having waves of nausea all day. She'd feel fine for a while but then a wave of queasiness would stop her in her tracks, for a minute or two, then go away. Being the most logical of the 3 teenagers, with every sickness wave her mind would flash back to the nasty stomach virus that was going around school the week before summer started. But, surely she'd have caught it before now...right?

As the sun started to set, the girls were sitting on the back porch nibbling a couple apples; it was Annie's idea, she'd heard somewhere that apples can settle your stomach. She'd only eaten a couple pieces before she just had to stop, her stomach suddenly felt really iffy.

"U-um...Laurie?" Annie squeaked.

Laurie looked up. "Yeah?" The blond answered.

Annie's face was flushed, with both sun and the urge to cry. This worried Annie herself; she wasn't usually a weepy person, but she felt really upset right now.

"I-I don't feel good..." she said, her breath hitching.

Laurie's eyes widened with concern, and Lynda was giving Annie a nervous look. Laurie pushed the plastic lawn chair back from the table and went over to Annie, feeling her forehead. "What's the matter? Did you get too much sun?" She asked, and the curly-haired teen shrugged, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

Laurie pulled Annie into a comforting hug, which Annie eagerly returned. She needed the comfort, and Laurie was just about the most comforting person she knew.

Lynda was nervously playing with her luxurious blond hair, her own stomach starting to turn, more with anxiety than anything. Lynda hated when people threw up; ever since she was a toddler, vomiting terrified her, whether it was herself or someone else. She wondered how on earth Laurie was so calm, and so readily getting that close to Annie who, frankly, looked to be seconds away from barfing.

Annie nuzzled her face into Laurie's chest, now starting to cry openly, her arm wrapped around her midsection.

"It's ok Annie, it's alright...deep breaths, ok?" Laurie comforted the smaller girl, patting her back. Annie was shaking now, her face now a slight shade of green. Lynda was ready to bolt, but, she resisted the urge. She wanted to be a good friend and be there for Annie, so she stayed put, but the fear in her eyes must've been more obvious than she thought, because Laurie gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Lyn, if you wanna go inside, we get it. We know this kinda thing bothers you." Laurie said. Lynda took Laurie up on her offer without hesitation and jumped up out of her seat, but before bolting through the sliding glass door she stopped and said, "anything I can bring you?"

Annie shook her head, "No, thanks, Lyn. I'll be alright..."

Lynda nodded, and disappeared inside. With that, Laurie crouched down in front of Annie, as she sat in the chair, and cupped her cheek in her hand. "Are you ok, Anne Marie?"

Annie shook her head, sniffling.

"Do you have to throw up?"

Annie nodded. Laurie was about to help her inside to the bathroom, but Annie's stomach had other plans, so she made a break for the grass and threw up into the lawn. Laurie cringed with sympathy and patted her friend on the back, holding her dark curly hair back.

As Laurie comforted the sick Annie, she felt her stomach flip too. At first, she thought she was just getting squeamish, but...no, she wasn't that sensitive to this sort of thing. She's a babysitter for Pete's sake, kids puke all the time, she's used to it. So, why did she feel sick?

Laurie's hand left Annie's back and rested on her own stomach instead, and Annie turned around when she felt the patting stop. She was about to whine for her to keep doing it, until she saw the blond holding her own stomach.

"What's wrong?" Annie asked, her voice weak and raspy.

"I...I don't think I feel good either..." Laurie said, trying to swallow down the hot feeling rising in her throat. Annie, fairly sure she was done, stood up straight and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She gave Laurie a worried look, as the blond seemed to go pale before her eyes.

Before she knew it the rolls were reversed; Laurie was puking into the grass and Annie was holding her hair.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry, Laur...did I make you squeamish?"

Laurie shook her head, coughing wetly.

"N-no...I think I'm sick too..." she answered between heaves.

About the time Laurie regained control of her body, she heard Lynda crying for her inside. She and Annie both bolted to check on her, and they found her hunched over a trashcan, also being sick...

"Oh Lyn.." Laurie crooned, pulling the cheerleader's hair back into a ponytail and rubbing soothing circles into her back. She was being especially soft with Lynda because she knew she had emetophobia, and needed more reassurance than most people would. Lynda was sobbing as she turned around and buried her face in Laurie's shoulder. Laurie returned the embrace, not even phased by the fact that Lynda had thrown up on her a little, apparently having misjudged whether or not she was done.

"I guess it wasn't too late to catch that stomach bug..." Laurie stated aloud. Annie nodded in pained agreement, before gagging and heaving into the trashcan.

Naturally, squeamish Lynda had her "puke button" pushed by Annie's vomiting, so she promptly emptied her stomach a second time down Laurie's front. Laurie's only reaction was simply to pat Lynda on the back, and croon comfortingly to her while also giving Annie a back rub.

A couple hours later, the girls were piled up in the livingroom. Annie lounged on the couch, watching TV. She'd whine about her stomach hurting occasionally but, other than that, this was just an excuse to be lazy to her.

Poor Lynda, on the other hand, was in the fetal position on the floor, hugging a bucket and crying. It'd been years since she'd felt this scared and upset, and she was so scared of throwing up and not being able to get the bucket in time that she refused to lie on the couch, in fear of making a mess. Her whole body was trembling and she panicked with every cramp and wave of nausea, and she flat out refused to try eating or drinking anything.

Laurie was the polar opposite of Lynda. She was the picture of calmness, sitting on the floor next to Lynda, rubbing her back and stomach while casually sipping some Ginger Ale. She'd taken the liberty to call both Annie and Lynda's parents to let them know the girls would be staying with her, as they didn't really feel like traveling, and she didn't mind caring for them a bit. She'd been tending to them both between her own bouts of sickness, which she treated like an everyday occurrence. Comforting Lynda, holding a bucket for Annie so she could hold her stomach, which was cramping something awful, checking temperatures, disinfecting and cleaning when she felt like it...Laurie was the definition of "the mom friend".

All 3 of the girls were glad that Laurie's parents were out of town. They didn't mind being sick in front of Laurie but if her parents would've been there, it would've been downright embarrassing.

"Laurie, can you rub my stomach?" Annie whimpered, curling into herself. Laurie smiled a bit. "Of course, your majesty. " she joked, standing up off the floor after giving Lynda a pat on the shoulder. She made her way to Annie and sat down beside her, slipping her hand underneath Annie's tank top and massaging her stomach. She smiled when she felt the smaller girl relax, and Annie let out a contented, "mmm..."

Lynda managed a smile through her tears. "You're gonna be such a good mom someday, Laurie." She said. Laurie smiled. "Aww, thanks Lyn. You are too."

By the time midnight rolled around, Annie was sleeping like a baby, and Laurie had carried her upstairs to her own bed after she'd fallen asleep on the couch. But Lynda was still nauseated, and therefore afraid to sleep.

"Laurie, if I throw up while I'm asleep I'll choke..." she cried, her hands pressed against her stomach.

"I'll give you an extra pillow so you're not lying flat. How would that be?"

Lynda shook her head. "No..no I can't..."

Laurie sighed. "Well, little miss Lynda, would it help if I hold you? I'll stay awake and make absolutely sure you don't choke." Laurie promised. She could see the little wheels turning in Lynda's mind as she contemplated that idea, and, finally, she nodded.

"O-ok...thanks Laur."

Laurie helped Lynda onto her lap as she reclined the loveseat. Lynda laid on her chest like a baby and Laurie covered them both with a fluffy blue blanket. With Laurie's back pats, and the sound of her heartbeat, Lynda was out like a light in minutes.

And that's how they spent the night. Three friends, sick as dogs but together and helping each other, now asleep. Well, except for Laurie. She'd kept her promise to Lynda that she'd stay awake. For some reason, the feeling of Lynda asleep on her chest, and the thought of Annie, safe and sound in her bed comforted Laurie. She laid her head back against the couch and, with a contented sigh, she whispered, "I'd do anything for you two."

#sickfic #tw emeto #vomit mention #annie brackett #laurie strode #lynda van der klok #halloween 1978 #stomach bug

[liskantope]

Over much of last calendar year, I managed to read through the entirety of the celebrated newspaper comic strip For Better or For Worse (prior to Lynn Johnston's proper semi-retirement which led to this weird rehashing of strips from decades earlier in the timeline whose process I don't completely understand and didn't feel like getting into). In other words, I was reading all the way through all of the FBoFW comics on the archives on GoComics from 1979 to 2008. I briefly brought this up back in May actually. Since I finished a little while ago, this isn't as fresh on my mind as it was, and anyway I've been spending too much time off-task lately and have a backlog of other things I want to talk about on this microblog, so although I'm going to try to keep this from getting too long I do want to jot down some of my thoughts as I did when I finished reading through Luann a few years back.

(Warning: this got quite long anyway.)

FBoFW was a part of my life growing up, firstly because I began reading it in the newspaper circa 1996 (although I remember considering it one of the less entertaining, "grown-up" strips at first and don't think I was regularly keeping up with it until sometime in the early 00's), and secondly because it was my mom's favorite comic strip (apart from perhaps Peanuts) and we had several book collections of FBoFW (mostly from the earlier years) around the house. Reading through this archive helped me fill in all the gaps, including many of the comics in the last couple of years of the strip's life when I was living away from my parents in college.

1) The two parents of the main Patterson family, Elly and John, remind me a ton of my parents now, looking back. The reason my mom loved the strip was of course that she related a ton to Elly (both stay-at-home moms of around the same age, although my mom didn't start having children nearly as early). Elly's brother is even similar in ways to my mom's brother, who also plays the trumpet. I was telling my mom this when I recently visited her, and she took it as a compliment as she likes Elly (I like Elly too but she very visibly has flaws especially in the earlier years of the strip's life). I was more taken aback at how strongly John reminds me of my dad, his personality in general I think particularly in his love of "getting away" and enjoying hobbies, making things, and doing repairs on the side of a very stimulating but sometimes taxing job; trains and building train sets aren't really my dad's thing, but my dad's hobbies are of a very similar flavor. (John however is an even more visibly flawed character, even more markedly during the early years.)

2) There is a certain undercurrent of... nastiness?... in the gags of FBoFW in the early years. I didn't really remember having this impression before, maybe because it was normalized to me when I was younger or times have changed or something. Leaving aside John frequently expressing sexist attitudes and cracking hurtful jokes about Elly, there's one particular example of this which sticks in my mind as it's in direct contrast to how my (otherwise quite similar) family operated when I was growing up: Elly's cooking. My mom did all the cooking too, and we all complimented her on how great it was. Elly does all the cooking and all we get is one crack after another about how much everyone dislikes it: the children prefer "the stuff from the can", while John is constantly rude about how low-quality he thinks it is. (Apparently it's bad to make casseroles a lot or something.) And the bemusing thing is that the joke never seems to land completely on the children and John for being so unappreciative: the strip is sympathetic to Elly for trying her best, but it's kind of implied (without being outright clarified) that Elly's cooking is objectively sub-par. In this one regard, FBoFW echoes a more traditional norm in comic strips where the comedy is derived from everyone being bad at every (often gender-based) role they're given (see The Lockhorns for a particularly tiresome example). There is pretty much none of this unpleasant tinge to the comic in later years, and to me this was an improvement.

3) FBoFW follows an arc similar to that of Luann (which I talked about frequently in my Luann post linked to above) where (1) the earlier period of the strip feels more like a dysfunctional family sitcom where each of the characters is dysfunctional in the way expected by their traditional role; (2) the family is an "everyman" family where, for all its issues, each person's flaws and problems are considered the "average" ones to have with nobody having any kind of extraordinary trait (exception: Lizzie sucking her thumb into late childhood and being treated with a contraption to keep in her mouth; later exception: April suffering the trauma of nearly drowning and feeling like it was her fault that the family dog died after rescuing her); (3) eventually we see that all the other families in the strip's universe are more severely dysfunctional in non-average ways; so (4) by the later years, the main family is treated as the model family that everyone outside it wishes they had. In FBoFW's case, we have Lawrence raised by a single mother after his father abandoned them, Gordon's father being an abusive alcoholic, Deanna's mom being extremely controlling, Candace's upbringing being completely dysfunctional (I can't remember exactly why), Becky somehow having a similarly damaging background due to her parents' divorce, Weed's parents being super wealthy, absent, and not seeing him as a person with his own goals... the list goes on and on. The Pattersons, like the deGroots from Luann, have become almost the ideal family by the final 5-10 years or so.

4) Feminism plays a major role in the background culture shown through the dynamics of the characters in the first several years, and only in the first several years. John's colleague and sometimes-friend Ted is shown as the quintessential chauvinist pig, while John himself has a chauvinistic streak that he later grow out of, and this supplies plenty of fodder. Reading the first several years of the comic is worth it just for getting a flavor of the common discourse around feminism and changing gender roles from 1979 to 1982-ish.

5) Similarly, reading the devastating (and at the time extremely controversial) arc about Lawrence coming out as gay in 1993 is also very educational. What floored me on reading this in 2022 was not the hostile way Lawrence's stepfather initially reacted, but how Lawrence's lifelong best friend Michael reacted: in an accepting way but only after kicking things in anger and rage at how Lawrence has a terrible unspeakable condition that Michael never imagined in his worst nightmares anyone he actually knew well could possibly have.

6) The comments on GoComics under each strip are, as I mentioned in the post I linked to at the very top, were generally of very low quality. (I thought it wouldn't be possible to get any lower, actually, until I more recently switched to reading Baby Blues from GoComics and discovered I was mistaken!) Perhaps the most interesting content in them was frequent debates, in the later years of the strip, over the morality of each supporting character. What is quite striking to me is how much persistent hate there was for certain (male, intentionally sympathetic) characters. John got the most hate of all; during the first few years he somewhat deserved it, but later on it just seemed that some people were trying to see the worst in him (one persistent commenter, who is clearly older, very un-PC, and openly anti-woke, repeatedly made it clear that he loathed John with a burning fire and thought he was a terrible husband throughout). What took me aback more was how critical everyone was of Anthony, who the cartoonist clearly wants us to think of as a really sweet, gentle guy perfect for Elizabeth. A lot of people wouldn't let him off the hook for his one really poorly-timed moment of telling Liz to "wait for me [to divorce my wife so we can be together]" within an hour of rescuing her from a violent sexual assault, but at least one commenter concocted arguments for why everything Anthony ever did was terrible. There was one and only one character around whom all commenters could rally in hating, though: Mike's mother-in-law Mira Sobrinski. It was simultaneously gratifying and disturbing to see the set of regular commentators, usually so snipey towards each other, teeing each other off in long comment threads where they virtually "cooperate" in setting up cartoonish ways for Mira to suffer.

7) Very sad events take place in FBoFW, rather controversially for a newspaper comic of the time, I think (I know Charles Schultz was appalled at the writing decision that the family dog was going to get killed off). The characters are pretty much never shown grieving or crying over them (Elly and her brother sort of take their mother's death in stride, nobody actually cries during the dramatic arc of the dog dying, etc.). The strip avoids wallowing in pure sadness. But some of these arcs can be intensely poignantly emotional. The sight of April's pet rabbit drawing its last breaths in her arms touched me more deeply than the more dramatic death of the dog, in fact. But what really gutted me more than anything else wasn't even a death: it was Grandpa Jim's severe decline due to strokes. I remembered it happening at the time the strip was coming out and not being so bothered by it, but as someone slightly older now, the sight of someone becoming a rigid husk on the outside of their former self, with all of their long-term memories and feelings still intact but very difficult to express, just really gets to me. Here is an example of a strip that makes me start to choke up every time.

8) Lizzie is intent, upon entering first grade, on getting her ears pierced like all the other first-grade girls. What?! Has this been normal for 6-year-olds since the 80's and was I just not paying attention when I was in first grade a decade later? On a related vein, a few years after this, Lizzie is mortified at having to get glasses because then she'd be "the kid with glasses". There were... quite a few kids with glasses (including me starting in 4th grade) in each of my classes from mid- elementary school on; why is this treated as such an abnormality?

9) With certain exceptions like Lizzie's lingering habit of thumb-sucking, each of the Patterson children's development is supposed to model the normal emotional development of your average Joe Child/Teenager. One thing that struck me as being considered absolute and universal by the cartoonist in teenage culture was the boys' sudden obsession with cars from the age of 15 or so. It was shown with Michael, then with Elizabeth's male peers, then again with April's male peers, that at a certain age boys are really into girls, then suddenly they're so into cars that they forget entirely about girls (in one strip which stretches the usual standard of realisticness), Michael runs into his girlfriend Martha who he's been completely infatuated with for years and is still dating and momentarily forgets her name because he's so preoccupied with checking out cars. This is not at all how I remember male teenagerhood, but maybe I'm just really atypical (it was not considered a given that I'd ever get a car or even a driver's license as a teenager, and in fact I didn't get my license until 20 or my first car until almost 26).

10) There's a point in the late-middle part of the strip's history -- I forgot to note the year, but it's abrupt and maybe around 20001-ish -- when the cartoonist becomes fond of daily comics being exactly five panels long. I remember this being jarring enough that I noticed it back when they were coming out in the paper, as well as reading through the archives 20 years later. It's interesting that this became such a strong preference of Lynn Jonston's: it's very rare for newspaper comics since 1950 (and distinguishes FBoFW stylistically from others) and feels rhythmically awkward and exotic in much the way that 5/4 time signatures in music do.

11) Those noses. Ugh, those noses. I mean, specifically of the Patterson kids. Little ovals right below the eyes that don't resemble the noses of the either parent or of hardly any person of any age I've encountered, and which each grows out of by full adulthood (April, being more of an early bloomer, grows out of this as a preteen). I have always been irrationally annoyed by this artistic quirk and could write a whole post on it, but that would be time none of us could ever get back again so I won't.

#for better or for worse #sexism #homophobia cw #death cw #strokes #peanuts #luann #feminism

[thornbushrose]

How about another excerpt from my fiction? It's already 22,000 words, and I think I'm only a quarter of the way through. I would start posting the chapters, but what I have isn't 100% chronological. Anyway, here's one of my favorite scenes so far. I love making sympathetic characters yell at each other.

==============================

Two days later, Sister Maggie stepped out of her office as Birdie passed and said, “Miss Garrett? A word, please.”

Birdie jumped, because any conversation with Sister Maggie made her feel like she’d been sent to the principal’s office, and turned. “Yes, Sister?”

Maggie came closer and used a low voice. “I understand you went to visit our unusual patient in the infirmary?”

“Oh—yes. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about him.”

“Good, let’s talk in here.” She ushered Birdie into her office. It was worn but tidy and reminded Birdie of the little desk in a closet that her grandmother had used as an office. Maggie did not invite her to sit down. “The lunch sisters said they asked you to feed him.”

“Yes,” Birdie said. “I didn’t have anything better to do, and they seemed to be afraid of him.”

“And you?”

Birdie shrugged. “He isn’t as mean as he thinks he is.”

“I see. And why did you help him sit up?”

Birdie raised an eyebrow and reminded herself that it was unkind to sass a nun, even if she was asking stupid questions. Unfortunately, her mouth, as was so often the case, didn’t get the memo. “So he could eat?”

“Do you realize it isn’t safe to lift something heavy while leaning over a low bed like that?”

“I used my legs. And he’s not a something, he's a person.” Birdie scoffed. “Are you seriously mad that I let him feed himself instead of spoon-feeding him?”

“I know you meant well,” Maggie said. “But now he won’t eat unless we sit him up.”

“Good for him.”

“I appreciate all you do around here, Miss Garrett,” Maggie said, with a tone that suggested she was reminding herself that it would be unkind to sass Birdie, “But look at the situation you’ve put us in. Neither Sister Teesha nor Sister Hattie is strong enough to lift him, and it isn’t safe anyway.”

“Are you going to let OSHA regulations keep you from respecting the dignity of an invalid?” Birdie felt her temper rising, struggled to keep her voice even. “Making him eat on his back is an affront to compassion. Didn’t we sign a Resident Bill of Rights a couple of years ago?”

“He’s hardly a resident. And since you mentioned OSHA, what am I supposed to tell them if one of the sisters hurts her back lifting a 30-year-old man who isn’t supposed to be here?”

“Then raise his bed! Or get someone stronger to do it. The thing about rights is that there are no exceptions. Even if he IS the Devil!”

Most people didn’t talk back to Sister Maggie like this, but Birdie didn’t expect the little nun to rock her head back like she’d been slapped. Shock, then fury rolled across her face. “Who told you he was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” She slapped her fist on her palm. “I made all of those women swear on the blood of Christ!”

“He told me himself,” Birdie said, then her jaw dropped. “Wait—what? He’s Daredevil?”

Sister Maggie fell still, except for a barely perceptible quiver. Birdie wasn’t sure if Maggie was about to explode in anger or sink into the floorboards and disappear forever. “You didn’t—what did he tell you?”

“He said the lunch sisters were afraid of him because he was the Devil. That’s all. I thought—I mean, he obviously has some psychological issues, after whatever happened to him….” Birdie’s brain was racing. “Daredevil hasn’t been heard from since that building fell. That’s what happened to him.” She looked up at Maggie. “He does all that ninja stuff and he’s blind?”

Sister Maggie lunged at her with a wagging finger. “If you tell ANYONE his secret, I swear I’ll… I’ll…!”

Birdie jumped back, but then she snapped, “You’ll what? Make me do Hail Marys? Sic the Saints on me? I’m not one of your nuns.”

Maggie drew herself up as tall as she could, which was still a couple of inches below Birdie’s eye level. “I’ll make sure that the rest of your time working for St. Agnes is excruciating. And short.”

Birdie scowled. That was something Maggie was probably capable of doing. “So my job is what his secret is worth, huh?” She forced the anger down. “All right, calm down. I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s my job to help people in situations like his. And… I kind of like him.”

“Good.” Sister Maggie turned around, wringing her hands, and breathed a Hail Mary under her voice. When she returned to Birdie, she was calm again, except for the light of an evil idea in her eyes. “All right then. Since you are apparently strong enough to lift him, and not afraid of the Devil, whether of Hell’s Kitchen or otherwise, you may serve him all his meals from now on. And clean his dishes.”

“You’re putting me on KP duty?”

“He won’t be here much longer. A couple of weeks, at most.”

“I leave at five. What about his supper?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. It would violate his rights not to serve him an evening meal.” Sister Maggie swept around to her desk, and waved Birdie toward the door. “Go now. It’s eleven thirty. I’m sure he’ll be hungry.”

-------------------------------------------------------

The lunch sisters happily gave her the tray and promised that she didn’t have to do any dishes, though Birdie knew perfectly well that they would do whatever Sister Maggie told them to do if she came to them directly. Birdie grumbled all the way to the infirmary.

As soon as she entered Matt’s room, he turned his head toward her and said, “So you ARE real. Sister Maggie acted like she’d never heard of you.”

“Oh, she knows who I am, all right.” Birdie set the tray down on the little table by his bed and dragged a chair over to sit by him. She sighed and forced the bitterness out of her voice. “How have you been? You sound like you’re feeling better.”

“I feel like a chewed-up piece of gristle,” he said.

“Nice. How long did it take you to come up with that?”

“How should I know? I can’t read the clock.”

Birdie chuckled and fetched the backrest pillow from under his bed. They went through the procedure of propping him up again, and again he gritted his teeth in pain, panting when they were done.

“Got any advice for how to make that less painful?” Birdie asked him.

“I’m not complaining,” he rasped. “The nuns have to make two or three tries.”

Birdie winced. He spent all day alone with caregivers who were barely competent. Maybe she could spare some time for the poor man with the ruined heart.

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