#and yes i completely understand feeling frustrated and isolated and wanting to turn to a platform where maybe you will be heard

[gurugirl]

just found out I have covid (again!) so I’m here to ask for some stepdad!H to get me through my isolation week, if not I completely understand and am sending my love always!

Of course anon! I'm sorry about you getting covid (again) (；′⌒`) I hope you feel better soon!!

This one is based off this anon request: Can I have soft sex with stepdad harry? Please? Pretty please ? I'm begging you. Im a Sucker for your stepdad au and I want some a sweet and soft harry. PLEASE ?🥺😭 3k words

Warning: Smut, inappropriate relationship between a stepdad and a stepdaughter (DON'T READ IF YOU'RE NOT INTO IT), cheating

stepdad!harry masterlist

You were feeling a bit sad. Your period was due any minute, you were very bloated and sensitive emotionally, and now putting your bra on was a pain - a literal pain. Your breasts were a bit swollen and it was uncomfortable putting your bra on. It was frustrating. You were just sad and frustrated and emotional and puffy.

Then to top it off your mom had invited a friend over for dinner so you felt like going without a bra just wasn’t an option, even if it would have felt so much better. A guest also meant being sort of social and of all days, today you were not at your best and thinking of what to talk about and having to answer questions about yourself (everyone your mom's age always seemed to ask you a million questions about college and what your future plans are).

You slid your dress on over your head. At least the dress was comfortable and was one of your favorites. You stared at your reflection in the mirror and talked yourself up then sighed, here we go.

In the living room Harry and your mom were sat on the couch and your mom’s friend Cheryl was on the loveseat. They were laughing about something and you forced a smile as you joined them, sitting on the end of the couch.

Conversation went just as expected. Cheryl asked about your major and then what your plans were for when you graduate. Then she asked the one question that should be banned from all casual discussions; if you have a boyfriend.

You stayed polite and answered the questions but were relieved when Harry interrupted you before you could answer the boyfriend question. He changed the subject entirely and moved the spotlight off of you. You were definitely giving him heart eye after that. He could tell you were not feeling very well.

Dinner was actually very good. You were hungry and your mom and Harry made a really good meal that made the whole boyfriend interaction with Cheryl worth it.

But once you put the plates away you waved at your mom and Harry and said you were tired and so you were just gonna turn in for the night. You said goodbye to Cheryl and the moment your foot hit the stairs to head to your room and everyone was out of sight, you pulled your dress off over your head and then immediately plucked at the back of your bra and popped it off with a sigh of relief.

In your room with your door closed you put a t-shirt on and then laid onto your back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling.

You were woken up to a knock at your door, “Yes?” you spoke in a groggy voice.

“Hey, Cheryl and I are going out for some drinks and to have girl chat. You okay? You seemed a little sad at dinner,” your mom moved into the room and sat at the edge of your bed.

“I’m okay. Just PMS a little. Tired and grumpy,” you said as you turned your head to watch your mom as you stayed on your back.

“Awww, well, I have some Pamprin if you need it. It’s in the master bathroom, second drawer by the wall. Okay? Do you need anything else before I head out?”

You shook your head and your mom leaned down to give you a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone in your room.

The moment she closed the door you began to cry. Because it was so overwhelming to have her being sweet to you when you were worth nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. You were scum. Worse than scum.

You rolled to your side and let your tears pour out. You needed a good cry. Not only were you emotional because your period was coming, but you truly felt deep guilt for the things you were doing with Harry behind your mom’s back.

Not long after your mom had left the house grew quiet at her absence. And just like you knew it would happen, Harry came into your room.

“Not tonight, Harry,” you croaked as you wiped your face and tried to hide that you were crying.

He didn’t respond but you felt the bed dip behind you when he sat down, “Hey, are you okay?”

You sniffed and opened your eyes to see the dark sky and moonlight shining into your window, illuminating your bedroom.

“I just feel so off. I think my period is going to start soon and I’m pretty sensitive today. I just need to sleep.”

It was quiet for a moment but you knew Harry was still there because the bed hadn’t shifted under his movement to get up. That’s when you felt his palm on your back, slowly rubbing up and down your spine.

“That’s okay. I can be here for you too, you know. If you want. Maybe I can just hold you until you fall asleep?” Harry’s voice was soft.

You turned your body to finally get a look at him in the dark on your bed, “Yeah. Okay,” you nodded.

Harry moved deeper onto the bed and laid next to you before pushing one of his arms under you and then pulled you into his chest so your face was against his shirt and you could smell his cologne.

It was comforting and warm. Harry’s slow breaths in and out, the shallow rise and fall of his chest had you lulling off to sleep quickly.

When you woke up you were still in Harry’s arms, pressed against his body. It was a feeling that you adored. You hated that you liked it so much, but you couldn’t help it.

It seemed that Harry was asleep. His breaths were light and his limbs were heavy. You tilted your head back to look up toward him, not that you’d be able to see much in the dark but you certainly would try. You wiggled an arm upward and put a hand on his face, slowly running your fingers over his scruff.

“Hmmm…” Harry groaned sleepily.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered.

“How do you feel?” Harry’s eyes finally opened as he spoke.

"A little better right now," and you were telling the truth. It really did feel good to be in Harry's arms. You rarely got to lie with him like this.

Harry shifted a bit and you felt his palm move over your thigh. He pulled your leg up over his hip and continued smoothing his hand on your skin. It felt nice to be like this with him; quiet and slow.

You still had your hands in between his body and yours and you were rubbing them over his shirt covered chest. You loved having your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles he worked hard for under his skin, so you lowered your hands to underneath his shirt and brought your flat hands upwards on his warm skin.

"Y'like touching my chest don't you, baby? I like when you touch me," he spoke softly.

"I do. Wish I could whenever I wanted," you let your fingertips lightly graze over his nipples and kept your eyes on his.

Harry's arm underneath your body was trapped but the hand he had smoothing over the skin on your bare thigh slowly dragged upward to your hip and then under your t-shirt. He rubbed your back gently and slowly.

Having his hands on your skin was doing things to you. Before you'd fallen asleep you weren't in the mood at all, but now you certainly were. You wiggled your hips and adjusted yourself so your center was pushed into Harry's. He was still wearing his pants. So you moved a hand downward toward his button and you kept your eyes on his.

Harry let out a soft laugh, "Want my pants off?"

You nodded, "Yeah."

Harry removed himself from you and sat up so he could undo his pants and he pulled them off his legs. You sat up and placed your hands on the tops of his thighs and moved them upward to the bottom hem of his boxer-briefs and Harry grasped your wrists, "What are you doing? I thought you just wanted rest?"

You furrowed your brow and opened your mouth to speak but couldn't find what you wanted to say. You were still frustrated and you knew that you wanted him inside of you but it felt like a lot to ask in that moment. You huffed and pouted.

"Is this what you want?" Harry spoke as he moved one of your hands upward over his crotch where you could feel him thickening underneath. His other hand he slide up your thigh and to the edge of your panties where he dragged his thumb along the elastic but not touching your warm center like you hoped.

You nodded and licked your lips, "Please."

Harry smiled and cocked his head to the side as he brought his hands up to your panties waistband to pull them down your hips and off your legs.

He gently nudged at you to lie down and he spread your legs, all in silence. When you noticed he was about to put his mouth onto your pussy you sat up, "Wait! I'm about to start my period, Harry. What if I'm bleeding a little?" You bit your lip.

Harry shook his head, "Do you really think that would stop me?" He put a finger through your labia and you were already slick for him. He rubbed over your clit and you keened when he hit that spot that worked so well for you.

"Look at that... you're already soaked and you're all swollen too, honey. Bet it's achy huh?"

You nodded, "But just... I want you inside of me. I need to feel really full right now and..." your breaths picked up when Harry didn't let up with his gesture over you clit, "... please."

Harry wouldn't say no, but he really did want to eat you out. He leaned over you and put his hands at the bottom of your t-shirt and lifted the material over your head. His warm palms massaged your tender breasts and you sucked in a sharp breath when you felt him squeeze.

"So tender. Poor baby. I'll be gentle," He spoke as he watched you and leaned in wrap his mouth around your left tit. Your nipples were already hard and his tongue darted around your pebbled skin and then he sucked at you. Moving to your right breast he palmed over your wetted one and rolled your nipple softly between his fingers as he sucked on the one in his mouth.

You moaned loud and bucked upward. You felt a storm of lust and need building in your tummy. You lifted your hips upward again and Harry released your nipple from his mouth with a laugh.

"Need Daddy's cock right now little one? Need me to make you feel good?" Harry pulled his briefs down his legs and then quickly put his hands back on your sore breasts.

You nodded, "Yes!"

"How do you want it? What feels best for you right now?" He was serious. He wanted to make sure you got whatever you wanted. Normally he'd take you how he wanted but right now you were sensitive and achy and needed special attention.

You laid back onto the soft bed and spread yourself, "Just like this. But slow, and soft. And deep inside of me so I feel you all the way up here," you slid your hand up your tummy to your belly button.

Harry groaned and put himself in between your legs and his cock was rock hard already. He loved feeling you around him. He'd never get tired of it. He'd never not want you.

With his eyes on yours and one hand holding his shaft, he nudged his tip to your entrance and slowly began penetrating your sensitive hole. You both moaned and gasped when he got past your tight opening. The initial plunge inward was always so tight but once his wide head was past your entry it was easier to glide into and out.

Your knees were bent, feet flat on the mattress, thighs spread wide as Harry worked himself into you slowly, in and out, and back in until he was pushed as deep as he could possibly go.

He kept a nice slow, languid pace, but he did pull back all the way so his tip was nearly out and then he'd slowly push back into you repeatedly. The way his thick cock traveled inside of you and stretched you when he pushed in, his tip grazing your g-spot each time he pulled out and pressed back in, you were moaning constantly from the pleasure he'd built in you.

"You need Daddy's cock so bad don't you?" Harry cooed at you as you whimpered at the slow, divine pace. You nodded and mumbled nonsense in response.

"I know, baby. I know. Gonna make you come on me and it'll help relieve that ache in your tummy, okay? Just let me take care of my girl," Harry spoke quietly and breathily. His own needs were being met as well. With you. Not just your pussy around him, slippery and tight, but with your coos and your eye contact. Your presence, your hands on him. He needed all of you.

The slow thrusts upward and his pelvis pressing into your clit had you quivering in lust. He felt so good inside of you, on top of you. His breathy moans meant something to you too. You loved that you made him feel good. You could tell he needed it too.

You grew wetter and wetter the more minutes that went on. With Harry's gently rocking into you it would take longer to orgasm, but you knew when you did, it would be explosive. Your bottom was wet with your arousal and Harry's long cock dipping into and out of your creamy cunt was hitting everything right.

Your bed barely moved under you, Harry's languid thrusts were so slow, but the noise of your wetness being fucked into and heavy breaths falling from your mouths filled your bedroom.

"Daddy!" You yelped when Harry thrusted in a little harder. He hadn't meant to do it but he was feeling so good and his orgasm was just around the corner so his motions became a little more irratic.

"Sorry baby. You just feel so fucking good. Gonna come on daddy's cock baby?" Harry gritted his teeth and grunted his words.

You smiled and nodded and Harry's slow thrusts became slightly faster, dipping in a little harder and deeper. The bed began to creak now as you both rounded the edge of your eventual highs.

"Such a good girl for Daddy. Taking his big cock with a smile. Baby I love you..." Harry paused his motions and he lifted himself a few inches and you saw the look on his face. He hadn't meant to say that.

Your own mouth dropped open and you smiled at him as you gasped your response, "Daddy I love you too!"

Harry panted and then dipped down to kiss your mouth and he picked up his cadence again, making the bed squeak and the springs bounce a little now.

He kept his mouth over yours and he grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers as he continued fucking into you.

You opened your mouth for his tongue and you felt your heart swell and your pussy began to flutter around his large dick. Your orgasm was blinding. You gasped and moaned into Harry's mouth when you started to come and Harry finally felt that was his permission to really fuck into you faster, harder.

With the slick sounds of your hole being penetrated repeatedly and the bed squeaking under you Harry finally released into your tender and puffy pussy, allowing himself to completely fill you up. He pushed into you deeply and with his final pump of come of he stilled his hips and his breath was heavy, deep.

He backed away from the kiss and looked down at your face. He could feel how you'd soaked his entire groin area. His pubic hair, his balls, drenched.

With his hands still holding yours he brought one up and kissed the back of your knuckles, "I mean it. I love you. Was that okay?"

You watched him kiss over your knuckles and with a sigh and your heart hammering in your chest you responded, "Yes. And I meant it too. I love you. I love you, Harry."

As much as you both wanted to lie together and fall asleep wrapped up in one another, you couldn't. You understood why he couldn't stay in your room. You drifted off to sleep with smile on your face and relief in your body.

Tell me your thoughts!

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it’s all appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Xoxo

Tags: @victoria-styles @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @ky-harlow-bieber @angel-akxo @flowerfeastrry @anothermannharry

#harry styles smut #stepdadrry #stepdad!harry #stepdad harry styles #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry one shot #harry #harry styles fanfic #firstpost

[lavenoon]

Can we have more hatchling AU plz?

Pain? You asked for pain? I come to deliver! <3

So the angst is canon - both boys get that moment where they just snap at the baby bird.

Dawn has had enough - and after the nth time that Robin tries to tag along for paperwork too, he asks them why rather harshly. And while their response didn't actually aim towards friendship, the immediate rejection gave them a good idea of what he thinks of them. Dawn leaves them easily, not quite thinking about the impact he left, only glad to finally have some peace and quiet. He does get that pang of not quite regret, but the thought "Maybe there would have been a better way to handle this"

Can't argue with the results however. They do lay off after that, acting much more subdued during missions. As impressive as it used to be that they actually seemed to be able to keep up with him, that performance is now slacking. Dawn is a good agent. So when he starts listening to the rumor mill, and pays attention to context clues, he knows it's not a general drop - only on missions they share with him. They're jumpy, hesitant, and their acting has become subpar, but only when he's around. That... That doesn't sit right with him. There's also the fact that he starts getting bored - Robin doesn't join as many missions, actively bowing out of shared missions offered to them, and he gets paired with other agents that don't know him or how he works. None of them stick around for a second time, so he has to work with someone new every time. It's familiar and frustrating, and he starts missing Robin's little quips and enthusiasm.

He's not sorry. That would imply he didn't mean what he said, and they aren't friends. But Robin gets little gifts in their office's pigeonhole, cereal bars and water bottles, and while their decision to have Dawn for a rival somewhat isolated them from other field agents, they do ask around and figure out that he hasn't been making any friends. Even snappier than usual, they hear - how did they stand it for so long? Well, he's not too bad usually... He just really can't stand them, so...

But then, after about two to three weeks (don't quote me on that, I may change my mind, but it works for now) they just hear their code name called out to them on the way to their office, and when they turn Dawn is just approaching them with... well, the best pokerface they've ever seen. No reading that expression.

"I see you're well."

"Uhh."

It's awkward, the silence that follows. They have no clue what he wants - and he's a proud idiot who can't articulate it either. They both fumble, and Dawn tries to take control of the conversation, "subtly" asking if the cereal bars were to their liking. That was him? Yes, obviously it was him - he knows about their atrocious self care habits! Completely ignoring his initial question, they now crack half a smile, as confused as it is. Did he... Did he feel bad?

Dawn flinches, and looks away, and they know they hit gold where they never would have expected it. Getting the words out of his voicebox feels like pulling teeth, but he forces them out.

"I may have... reacted rather harshly. While I stand by the content of what I said, there were better ways to establish that, and it wasn't relevant to our conversation at all. We don't need to be friends to work with each other, and... And you are the one agent at this location who actually seems to understand how I work, even if I can't claim the opposite yet. I would like to, with time, if you're willing."

It's not really an apology, but Robin sees him, stiff and uncomfortable, admitting to his own faults, and they have to bite back a grin. So he's scary, alright, and ruthless, yeah, but also kind of... Kind of an idiot, huh?

"... I'll be annoying."

"I'm aware."

"And you won't mind?"

"... Less than the alternative."

They snort at the honesty, even more so as it comes hesitantly. They grin, then.

"You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you? I'll take the next one. Just know that you chose this."

Dawn sighs, eternally suffering, and Robin chokes on another laugh. It's easy to swallow when his next words are quiet, barely audible, and something he never said to them that genuinely before.

"Thank you."

They aren't friends, Robin knows. But maybe they can be. They already made the big scary star agent admit he works best with them - surely everything else is possible too <3

(The initial conversation also is what made them cry enough for Moon to notice later that day - and something that Dawn will thus regret all over again) (Dawn starts calling them "little thief" soon after, as they stuck with the "Sunshine" for him, and it's only another step in the right direction)

Dusk technically has even less tact, and snaps at them in the middle of a mission. They just almost walked into the path of a camera again, distracted by their own energy, and he's had enough. At the very least he has the sense to immediately regret it - but the words are already out, and Robin is already withdrawing. "I'll focus," they say, and they do, and Dusk tries hard not to feel bad about the suffocating silence following those two words.

He certainly feels very bad when the next time he moves his hand near them, they flinch back. Eyes wide and trained on his fingers, even without the claws and electricity dancing between them. Oh no. He was angry, yes, and maybe upped the intimidation factor, but he didn't actually want them afraid of him.

Because while he figured that they simply don't take anything seriously, including him, Robin was being lighthearted despite the respect they have for him. They aren't as oblivious as he thinks they are (they're oblivious in different, exciting ways), and to them that little intimidation display was not the attempt of a senior agent struggling to be taken seriously, but rather a senior agent they admire all but declaring his willingness to hurt them.

Dusk done fucked up.

Robin stops "hijacking" his missions, and Dusk starts making mistakes. Because he wasn't the only one interfering to prevent mistakes, they covered his back as much as he covered theirs. And seeing them actively dodge him in the hallways of HQ just stings, even without the reprimands towards himself ghosting around in his head. He needs to fix this.

He's not as much of a mother hen as Sun, but he does know a thing or two about taking care of others still. He also has the advantage that he isn't quite as much of a peacock as Dawn, and opts for the direct approach. His pride hates being scary to the nice if reckless new agent more than apologizing. He doesn't take as long as Dawn either, and approaches them after just a few days.

Robin still jumps when he's suddenly there, but his hands are hidden behind his back and he's standing there almost hunched. They wait, silent, for him to speak - and he does, with a grimace. Still similar to his counterpart, this next bit grates.

"I'm... sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to do that - I didn't... I didn't realize."

Well, cheers, he managed the apology - as much as it sucks. Robin scoffs, not impressed either.

"What, didn't realize that someone three heads taller with sharp teeth and literal tasers for claws wouldn't be my favorite company when angry? Shocker."

Now it's his turn to flinch, but reaching out still forces them a step back, so he pulls his hands back. Fidgets with them, a nervous habit he knows he shouldn't indulge, Sun already does that more than enough.

"I underestimated you, on multiple accounts. And I guess... I got used to you not being afraid. Everyone else is."

His fingers creak then, and when Robin glances at his hands, he hides them behind his back again. It makes them think - and well... They know what the other agents think of Dusk, always reacting with disbelief when they mention joining him for missions, and rather unwilling to discuss him as if he has eyes everywhere. The others are afraid.

But the agent in front of them right now? Is... kind of a dork, who hides his hands because he thinks they're scared of every little movement, and he's kind of weird about eye contact too, as if even his normal eyes would scare them, and they are pretty sure they've never seen him without the sharp teeth before, either.

He's trying. He's just kind of stupid about it. They sigh, and decide to offer an olive branch.

"Fine, Mr. Sandman, apology accepted. You can stop looking like the strangest kicked puppy I've ever seen now."

"... Mr. Sandman?"

He looks at them, somewhat hesitant - that won't do. They exaggerate a shrug.

"What, would you prefer Moon man?"

"No."

"Neat. You're getting that, then."

He smiles then, somewhat slowly, but it morphs into a grin easily. It's new, still, but it's nice, and he can't help but try it out.

"Chirp chirp chirp, the little robin sings again."

"... Hood. Robin Hood."

They squint at his grin, and sharp teeth click back into place. They aren't scared.

Dusk straightens, and then moves to walk past them. It's sudden, and they don't quite process it until his hand is already on their head and removing the little hair tie. They gasp, offended, and he twirls it on his finger when they turn.

"Give that back!"

"Next mission, little bird. Try to get it back."

He whistles as he leaves, and Robin has the sudden urge to strangle someone 1) who's neck they can barely reach and 2) who doesn't need to breathe. But he invited them - well, he better not complain then. If he insists on the bird names, well, they'll be a canary - he'll regret ever asking them to be loud again.

(He won't regret it. After this, Dusk is well aware why it's bad news when a canary stops singing - and he'd rather not have a scare like that again. They aren't quite comfortable after this, at best comparable to early rivalry senior agent Robin and rookie Dusk, but they're getting there, and both are too stubborn to work with anyone else. Works out for them, after all)

#answer let luce #anonymous #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #hatchling au #my art #I kinda. I kinda thought I'd talk about more than just these two scenes but uh. oops? #1.7K words whoopsie #the other doodles are more general dynamic vibes *before* these scares #slightly more forgiving Dawn/ Dusk after the scares; as they know the alternative is worse #... even if Robin still likes to test their patience #nerves of steel they may have but Robin is a very determined hack saw and proud of it #they're the only one who can annoy the star agent and get away with it <3

[attonposting]

I've always loved the scene on Telos where Kreia picks up on Atton's nervousness and breaks into his head, because so much crazy bastardry goes down in KotOR II while your protagonist's out of the room, and it's the first (...or second, in Kreia's case) major hint that both of your OG companions are not what they seem. It's punchy, it's brutal, and it sets the stage for some incredible reveals down the line. But also... for as skilled a manipulator as that scene makes her out to be, Kreia's threat to Atton doesn't really make sense?

I mean, imagine you're Atton. You've tagged along with this crazy half-Jedi for a while now, escaped a dead facility and a Sith zombie, blown up a planet, got taken into custody, lost your ship. You wanted to split first chance you got, because your life expectancy in their company's looking kind of shit and the less time you spend near Jedi the better, but you're also kinda inspired by them despite yourself, they need someone to watch their back, and there's a niggling feeling that this is the reason that's eluded you all these years - maybe this is why she thought you were worth something. Then this nasty old schutta tears open your mental defenses like plastic packaging and says “You stick with my student or I'm telling on you.” WDYD?

Atton obviously cares what the Exile thinks, yes. And he's very afraid of their reaction to his past. But if he's going to flee, then it wouldn't matter anymore if they hate him, because at that point he's made the decision to never see them again. Now, the threat Kreia makes to him later on, about dredging up the parts of him he tried to bury – that is a threat with sticking power, one that he can't worm his way around. But the first ultimatum is a cage with very wide bars, and they're ones he could slip through if he really wanted to. Maybe he's afraid the Exile will hunt him down, but it's like Kreia says; if the Exile is a Jedi, they won't kill him for his crimes. And if they're not, they won't care that he was Sith.

If the prospect of the Exile hating him is painful enough to keep him from running on its own, then he's already too far gone to run. So no. At this point, Atton's already decided to stick with the Exile. He just maybe hasn't figured that out yet.

So if it's not an effective threat, why does Kreia make it at all? Well... perhaps it's for the same reason Kreia calls him a fool and a murderer at every opportunity and repeatedly warns the Exile about his intentions. She wants Atton to doubt himself. She wants him to feel trapped so that he resents and fears the Exile; she wants him to struggle with his feelings of inadequacy so that he doesn't approach the Exile on honest footing and takes his frustrations out on everyone around him. She wants him to lie about his past so the Exile will distrust him.

Kreia is strongly against the Exile forming human relationships with their crew and pushes against every companion that has or seeks a close connection with the Exile – she plays up the split loyalties of Visas and the Handmaiden, she dehumanizes Bao-Dur, she derides Mical and insists he doesn't see you as a real person, she rails against every single romantic relationship the Exile might seek. Atton is Kreia's first competitor for influence on the Exile and he's either an extremely loyal friend or hopelessly smitten. She doesn't want Atton to mold you, she wants you to seek her counsel, so she does everything in her power to undermine Atton so that he ruins his own chances. And it's not totally successful (as long as you don't go low influence...), because Atton still admires the Exile more than he resents his situation, and he does come clean... but it doesn't fail either, because he won't admit his feelings until he's on his deathbed.

(And if you do go low Influence, it works completely – Atton is so trapped and isolated that he turns to Kreia as a confidante, as the only one who understands him in all his ugliness, and becomes her loathing disciple like Sion before him.)

In short, Kreia's such a good manipulator that she can coerce people into behaving how she wants them to by pretending to coerce them into doing something else.

#atton rand #kreia #kotor ii #kotor 2

[absolutebl]

Hi, me again. So you speak quite highly of my beautiful man...And I really don't get it😭😭. I've tried watching it twice and could never make it through the 3rd episode. I just couldn't get past how mean the guy was. So I guess my question would be what about it makes you like it so much? Maybe it's because I'm not that familiar with Japanese comics and BLs?

Maybe. 

You have to get bully romances and the whipping boy dynamic and then make if far enough to realize this is a subversion of those tropes. For example, did you know Hira is the seme of this narrative? Oh yes. 

It’s a harsh show, but that’s the point of it, it’s harsh on its characters, and it’s harsh on the viewers. Because it wants us to really think about what’s going on here, not the actions, but the emotions behind those actions. Why is Hira the way he is? Why is Kiyoi? And why does Hira never consider either? 

It’s exploring different interpretations of love, kink, and power dynamics, but also loneliness, social ostracism, and isolation. 

If you stopped half way through, you stopped right before the GOOD time jump. 

After they part ways and Hira goes to university and grows up (away from the object of his obsession)... everything changes. 

Also we get a penultimate episode entirely from Kiyoi’s perspective and after that our audience perspective also morphs. 

We suddenly realize how oddly similar these two are, and how they have reacted to hostile society, queer desire, and the companion disenfranchisement in different but complementary ways. 

The beauty of Utsukushii Kare is exactly what you started to experience but rejected in frustration (probubly because of the raw ugliness). 

We are suckered into thinking it's one kind of horrible narrative (stalker, obsession, advantage, and abuse). When in fact, once you're given perspective, it turns out to be something entirely different. 

We’re left not thinking so much about bully versus worship, and tired old tropes but about the emotions guiding human behavior: 

What is the nature of true affection? 

How can the wrong kind of love damage?

What is the meaning of the “right kind of love” when contrasted to the warped desires of an individual? 

The narrative and personality twists are ALL based in character.

On a rewatch, after completely finishing it this show, it will become a whole new story - you’ll never be able to unsee the inherent pain that Hira's own worship is causing him and everyone around him, particularly Kiyoi, who has been forced onto a pedestal and into a god-like role that he wanted, yes... but not from Hira. Not from a boyfriend. 

It’s the ultimate emotional reveal. Like how if you know the twist of Crying Game or Flight Club or Sixth Sense it will never be the same movie it was the first time around, but Utsukushii Kare DONES THIS AS A ROMANCE. 

It’s so fucking clever. 

It's not victim blaming, it's a dialogue about the nature of emotional responsibility and an examination of what it means to truly love someone as they are (and not as you idolize them or want them to be). 

In an odd way, this show is a pretty profound criticism of parasocial relationships.

The other thing about My Beautiful Man is that it’s for Japanese audiences and, somewhat accidentally I think... us. International BL & yaoi super fans. This is not a show that anyone outside the community would understand. This is not intro level BL. We don’t show this to our friends to get them intersted in the genre (unless those friends are heavily in the kink community). 

Here I am losing my mind over it, but notice that this didn’t really happen until the final episode? 

Now, I don’t mind the bully aspect because it’s so much a part of yaoi DNA, so it was never a matter of me dropping this show. But it did take the ending for me to love it as hard as I did. 

If you can’t make it through I ENTIRELY understand. But I do feel sorry you won’t get to experience such an amazing piece of narrative and character dexterity. 

This is the kind of BL that can ONLY come from Japan. No other BL producing country has the chops, depth, or talent to pull this off. Nor are they willing to push as hard or as dark. You have to walk the edge of the knife for this kind of story, and as a result it will cut. It’s whether you like the pain or not. 

There is a reason this show won awards, and it is ENTIRELY different from why, say, ITSAY or Semantic Error won awards. All of them are beautifully acted and filmed, but while ITSAY is about honesty in an ugly world, and Semantic Error is about perfection and ignoring all ugliness, Utsukushii Kare is about connection despite (or perhaps because of) our own ugliness. 

“My Beautiful Man” is both subject and irony. 

Utsukushii Kare is about embracing what is flawed, and examining that as something to be honored because it is flawed. Which means that ultimately, like all the best of the Japanese romances, it is about hope. 

#Utsukushii Kare #My Beautiful Man #defending bl #bully romance #kinky romance #japanese bl #live action yaoi #adapted from a manga #best bl #my favorite bl

[living4mybrazilianalpha]

Farm slave (part two)

Once locked in the dungeon, I had a second thought. This might be going too far. I called Arthur. « Come my love and let’s play ». He did not reply. I insisted but only got silence in return and the more I insisted the more silent the place was. I was alone in the dark, that locked room, in that isolated house. Prisoner of that dungeon. And no one seem to be around. I could only think how horny I was to be locked there but also how frustrated to be alone when the man I wanted to worship and serve was so close but unreachable.

I continued to call him from time to time, trying to alternate messages of love and messages of frustration. Not sure which ones would succeed.

Eventually Arthur came back to the other side of the locked door. « Additional rule : the slave remains silent at all time ». I insisted « come on, come over. Let’s have fun like last time ». But Arthur was very serious about this. « I don’t think you got the idea my slave. For the coming seven days, you are my property. Whether you like it or not, you obey. That’s the plan and I don’t intend to change it »

His tone, his will, his strength, all that masculinity, all that authority made me very hard. I was completely under his charm. He knew it. « Yes Sir. You shall be obeyed ». I was expecting the door to open and Arthur to come in and abuse me. He did not.

« Better you understand your place. I will use you later. And do not touch your cock. I would know. »

Again I stayed locked and blindfold and waiting. But this time i was careful to remain silent. Arthur had made his point. No play. He wanted this to be the real thing. A Master and his slave. And that’s what I wanted too. I wanted my man to deeply feel all his superiority. To be able to deploy all its fantasies and have the best time. And to get that I knew I could not escape the rules anymore. I had to be silent and obedient.

After a couple of hours of silence I heard the stairs again and the door finally opened. « I guess you got your lesson. Although I have to discipline you for that nonsense earlier. Show me your back and get a taste of that bamboo stick. »

I knew the bamboo was his favourite. And it had became mine too. I could feel how excited he was and knew how to increase it even more. « Please Sir punish me hard. I know I deserve it ». His beatings went in series of 10. Plain strong strokes. Alternating my ass and legs. Striking hard to make sure it hurts. He told me to thank him every 10 and so did I. I knew he would expect me to beg for more. And I did until he reached a 100. It was more at once than I had ever had. As he was about to continue beyond 100, I fell on the ground in tears. « Thank you Master. I got my lesson. I am all yours » I was at his feet and kissed it to implore his mercy.

Arthur picked me up, gave me a warm kiss and fucked my mouth like crazy. I could feel how horny he was both from that beating and by my tears too. His huge cock was pounding my head hard. And I felt so rewarded. The pain had disappeared and it was pleasure only. Suddenly his juice flew in my mouth. Hot and thick. « Swallow It slave . This is how you ll be fed tonight. »

I thanked Arthur and again went to his feet to lick and kiss.

No matter how exhausted I was I knew he would want more. « I am not done with you ». He turned me around and I could immediately feel that his first load had not at all calmed my man down. A short série of 10 bamboo strokes and without warning or preparation he fucked me hard, insulting me, humiliating me and making sure I would remain in the place he had decided. « You ll be my slave all week and better do good if you want to get fucked like this again. I am not going to let you mess around. You ll be obedient and hardworking. There is a lot to do here. It’s not going to be easy. But be good and you ll be rewarded. »

He did not need to insist that much. I was so caught by the all idea of total submission. It had been in my head for a long time. I was a bit worried Arthur could be too serious about it but I was so into him and his dominant personality that I was ready to accept a lot, just to please him.

And he knew it.

(TBC)

#gayslave #faggot training #alpha master

[lone-wolf-no-more]

Is Life Really This Complicated?

Saturday, February 18th, 2023

Day 7. Really should be taking note of that every day, regardless.

Got out of the house with my sibling. Took an Uber to the plaza down the street. We both were a bit at a loss at what steps to take next, pertaining to...what’s coming. All the same, it was good to be out of the house yet again, with them. The natural foods store down has a small cafe spot with tables, and we sat there for a short while just talking. Man, did I need that. And did it feel very surreal being in a public place surrounded by other actual people. Isolation is a biatch, and really screws with your head.

Also watched the first DRVN podcast. Some really good insights on sleep quality, and the lack thereof.

The two things that stood out to me where that cool (versus cold) showers help to down regulate your body temperature and prepare you for sleep. The other is that you want to take your mind out of the thinking (in my case, “problem solving” would be appropriate) state, both during the day, and before you sleep. So, definitely don’t do focused mindfulness before sleep. Zone out, and if thoughts come, just let them float by.

I have a major problem with thoughts coming up at night and waking me up, and it’s apparently largely because my mind needs more time during the day to just do nothing (or at least recharge through being silent) to process those, instead of trying to do it while I’m supposed to be in “rest and digest mode”.

Well, I need to be asleep very soon. I’m getting up around 8:15 tomorrow to go with my sibling to church. Regardless, I’m tired of being here all the time, and it’ll get me out of the house more.

Even considering the present circumstances, I know I’m going to struggle with having the courage to just call a spade a spade and tell people who are complete strangers to me what I’m dealing with here. But really, I don’t have anything to lose. If I really do get kicked out in less than four days time, I’m not likely to see them again.

Once again super grateful for my sibling. I know fully well, that at the end of the day, my bigger problem is that I’ve been doing so much on my own, and I need that to stop. How exactly to address that problem, I still can’t say I have the answer. People say, “Community is the answer.” Well, what community? Who do I turn to? Who would understand the mental and physical struggles I have and see them for what they are, versus labeling me as a bum and somebody who just isn’t trying hard enough?

I mean, I know that when I leave here (whether on my own terms or not), that won’t change that I don’t really have the connections I want to make the things happen that need to happen. Namely, the confidence that I don’t need to have everything together 100% on my own for things to be okay.

The thing that frustrates and confuses me is that if “putting myself out there” more was the answer, I would have the help and progress I needed right now. So, am I just not meeting the right people? Or do I still have some sort of mental blinders on that just make everything more difficult for me?

I know that over time mindfulness, combined with affirmations (which I’m still sticking to, by the way) is slowly helping me deal with the PTSD and the negative memories from the past.

Yes, a lot of the problem stems from my health issues, which are like a proverbial ball and chain. So, is the answer just being around more people who sympathize with that, so that I don’t feel like I’m doing it all myself? Or is the problem that I’m not being strong enough and intuitive enough to be able to navigate the world, even when things aren’t as they should be?

Because of the biggest roadblocks I’ve dealt with for as long as I can remember is this: “Why is it always so hard to find people just willing to let me stay with them for a time when things go down”, and attached to that, “Why does it always seem so hard for me to find and master the necessary skills to simply make a dollar. Never mind be rich, but just make enough to stay alive on my own?” I’ve struggled with that second question for years, even before my accident. I would always have these small, short-term jobs, over long periods of time, but nothing substantial.

So was the problem me, or was the problem my support system? I have no idea….Okay, this highlights another issue. I need to start journaling earlier in the evening and get this stuff out of my system then. This in itself felt like mentally pushing a boulder up a large hill.

Todaloo.

#Youtube

[rolling-restart]

I agree that the Nico/Jenson relationship is so important in illustrating how alone in all this George really is. Jenson’s always been so in love with Nico that he’s always chosen to be there to hold his hand. He’s always been there when Nico needs a shoulder to cry on, someone to take his frustrations out on who won’t lash out back at him or take it personally, just this constant reassuring presence. Never once has he not been there for Nico and I think having someone like that in your life just helps you to see that the grass can be greener. It’s probably hard for Nico to accept at first that Jenson really does love him and that he has the opportunity to find a genuine, healthy love because it’s just be easier to pretend that all men are like Toto because then he can convince himself that what he has with Toto is totally normal and he doesn’t have to admit to himself that he’s in this incredibly unhealthy relationship. He probably knows deep down that he’s just lying to himself but sometimes that’s easier than admitting that you’re out of your depth, but Jenson is there to consistently prove that there are good men out there who will truly love him for who he is and that’s why George has it so much worse because he’s not got anyone there to pull him out. He’s not got someone holding him when he cries, he’s not got anyone who would take him in wordlessly and know exactly what he needs. Jenson’s taken the time to understand Nico’s every need whereas Daniel’s just feeling clueless and helpless. George is totally isolated.

Thank you so much for your input anon, and yes I agree, this contrast was very much necessary.

I really want to discover their coming together story as well, not only for hearbreakingly cute reasons but I also believe that it might provide us a template for George’s possible survival, too. Although, I really don’t want to turn George into a damsel in distress to be saved by Daniel so we will see how it goes.

I think Jenson would be a safety net for Nico. Keeping him as sane as possible while slowly breaking his walls. It would be a gradual and long project but he would be patient.

The worse thing is, Daniel didn’t have enough time to process his feelings for George before disaster struck and I believe it will be very difficult to convince George that it is not an act of pity. George sees the worst in people and if he cannot see anything bad, he makes it up to match with expectation of getting hurt. He is alone without any support system. However, in my opinion, him surviving so far with a sense of personality shows great strength and resilience even though he never asked for it. We always portray George as a helpless victim, which he usually is. However, the fact that he survives the game, barely, by playing by Toto’s rules and still preserving a vague sense of right and wrong and a nearly complete sense of identity is a very important achievement.

Thanks so much for reading it and reaching out!

#desecration: gr/tw fic #answered asks

[radellama]

I feel a bit uneasy about how normal treating social media as a diary is, especially because I have done that myself many many times. I understand the appeal of yelling into a faceless void and sometimes feeling validated when the void shows support in the form of mutuals or strangers liking or even agreeing with you - but I really do worry about what that does and will do to people's thinking patterns.

#again i acknowledge that I'm being fairly contradictory here with what I'm saying here #but i ask you to try and understand how complex this thing is? if I'm making any sense with it #like... some things people say online puts me on yellow alert sometimes and i worry for kids growing up seeing this as normal #and yes i completely understand feeling frustrated and isolated and wanting to turn to a platform where maybe you will be heard #but i think maybe lines are getting blurred #it's one thing to try and express a thought or opinion - esp if you're trying to reach out for support #but it's a whole other thing when i see people locked in cycles of poorly thought out emotional reactions just barking online #and it's like they're slowly laying the bricks of their own echo chambers #i dunno I'm not trying to talk about any one person in particular cause i really dislike vague posting #I'm just trying to speak generally to habits i see online and ones i catch myself doing and dislike #I'm trying to spend less time online and more time curating my experience to avoid seeing this kind of stuff but... #it's hard to navigate social spaces online #it's hard to navigate social spaces in general lol but i dunno #take this sad man's ramblings and his thanks for reading this far LMAO

[wordsnstuff]

Genuine question. It's my understanding the way that JK Rowling 'told her fans that Dumbledore was gay years after the series had ended' was actually because someone on Twitter asked her a question about D. and she replied he was gay. I'm sure as an author yourself, you know authors know a lot about their characters that never actually makes it into the published work. So why do people assume she was pandering, and not just revealing something she'd known all along when someone finally asked?

I just want to preface this by saying that I don't know a lot about this subject, but from what I've gathered, this is what I think:

J.K. Rowling has an obviously bad track history of being an "ally" to the LGBTQ+ community. I have been aware of the Harry Potter series for most of my life, and I was fairly young when she announced that Dumbledore was gay. Of course there was controversy. 2007 was not as safe a time for us in the queer community, so that isn't surprising. I will acknowledge that it is frustrating that she would reveal this very significant information (significant in terms of possible representation within one of the most culturally relevant stories of all time) after the final installment was already completed and released with absolutely no representation in the actual text.

I can imagine that what you suggested, that she may have known that all along, may be true. Only she can tell you, and only you can choose to believe her.

But truthfully, I don't think that that part is relevant to the conversation anymore. Time has passed, and since then, the original film series has concluded. Now, in 2021, I have come to the conclusion that even if I were to give her the benefit of the doubt in terms of Dumbledore having been gay all along, I would still have to reconcile with what's happened since. After 2 feature films in the Fantastic Beasts series, which offers ample opportunity to provide gay representation through Dumbledore's character, why hasn't there been any?

Again, you could argue that the audience should give her the benefit of the doubt. "Well, the production team on the films don't want to jeopardize the market by including gay representation" or "Maybe she wants to incorporate the relationship between Albus and Gellert but the powers that be are preventing it" or even "Maybe they're building up to that plot line in a future film". However, I feel no inclination to give her the benefit of the doubt. Not only has there been no effort to include this fact, which would mean a lot to the large portion of her audience who are queer, but a deliberate avoidance of it.

The second film in the Fantastic Beasts series centered completely on the relationship between Dumbledore and Gridelwald, and the closest it got to representation was queerbaiting the audience who believed Rowling would finally deliver. The truth is, Rowling has had ample time and opportunity to provide representation for the LGBTQ+ community in the works she has put her name on. It's insulting that the best she could come up with was:

1. a queerbaiting sequel in a film franchise she invented to capitalize on her singular stroke of creative success

and

2. a 1000 page gender-revenge mental breakdown which clearly and deliberately used stereotypes that have been used to justify violence, suspicion, and hostility toward trans people for decades.

AND

3. a nearly 4,000 word (prize winning??) tirade making the entire fight for trans visibility and civil rights about her relationship with her father.

All while insisting to all those who criticize her actions that she is an "ally" to our community and that she is simply "concerned" about the youth.

[rant over]

Simply put, she has run out of chances. She has run out of excuses and she has exposed that even if she means well (which, your interpretation of her concrete action may lead to you believe she doesn't), her intentions don't really matter anymore. Any reparation she may attempt in the future will be contaminated by the damage she has caused, which cannot be overlooked anymore. She's thrown it in our faces, time and time again.

So yes, if you isolate the statement she made in 2007 you could probably justify her actions to yourself, but context matters and we have 14 years of context now that we didn't have back then, and it's only made her point of view clearer, and less encouraging.

* I just want to note that I have individually chosen to adopt the word 'queer' into my vocabulary when speaking about the LGBTQ+ community (which I am apart of). If this makes you uncomfortable or upset, please understand that it is a personal decision and while I respect your position, I expect you to respect mine in turn.

#J.K. Rowling #Harry Potter #TW transphobia #TW TERF #TW homophobia #TW queerbaiting #tw jk rowling #kate chats #feel free to ask me questions like this #I don't always answer because I don't want to get into an internet fight #but feel free to ask anyway #I am still on hiatus #but I will still hop on to answer questions from time to time

[pinkteapotwriting]

hi!

I was wondering if you could write a smut with period sex with marauders? If you are not comfortable with that I totally understand and I’m sorry to make you feel bad :/

Marauders x fem!reader

Warning : Period sex, fingering, daddy usage, petnames

Word count : 1435

I hope you like it love *mwah*

---

It had been one of those weeks. You were feeling really low, and you took to isolating yourself. Politely declining to spend time with your loving boyfriends and taking some time for yourself. In other words isolating yourself completely. But now, now you were completely overwhelmed with the need for them. It was ridiculous honestly, and you weren’t sure why your emotions were all over the place. Now you had to swallow your pride and go apologize for being so distant with the men you loved.

Knocking on the door to their dormitory was much harder than it should have been, but you had to bury your shame and embarrassment to apologize. When the door opened you were met by a confused James. 

“Bunny? You know you don’t have to knock right? What’s wrong?”

You just stepped in and hugged his middle, instantly his arms were around you and rubbing your back in soothing circles. James cast his bewildered expression to Sirius and Remus but was met with a mere shrug. They didn’t know what was going on either. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

James separated from you and grasped your shoulders to stop you from falling into his chest again.

“Y/N, you’re scaring us. You’ve been distant all week and now you’re here crying and apologizing. What’s going on?”

Maybe you weren’t going about this in the right way. You grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. Remus had been resting against Sirius’s chest reading a book, but now the book was discarded and all eyes were on you as you sat cross legged at the foot of the bed.

Sirius intertwined his fingers across Remus’s stomach, resting on top of Remus’s hands as well.

“Tell us what’s happening love.”

“I’ve just been really sad this week and I don’t know why. I came to apologize for distancing myself and hoping you’d forgive me. I don’t even know what happened and I want to work harder at communicating instead of shying away.”

They all sighed in relief. Remus collapsed dramatically against Sirius, arms splayed out on either side of him.

“Jesus fuck, I thought you were going to break up with us.”

“No no no no no, I’m so sorry I made you think that. I love you all so much.”

James reached out with his arm and pulled you towards him, kissing the top of your head. The affection had you melting, and gravitating towards him without even realizing. You weren’t even aware of the process of crawling into his lap, and pulling him in for a kiss. But you were very aware of his large hands roaming your body. He smiled a cocky grin after pulling away, probably because your chest was heaving. He traced your lips with his forefinger. 

“Hey lads, how long has it been since Y/N has been touched, depending on if she followed our rules?” 

Sirius’s smile matched James now.

“Bout a week.”

“Oh poor thing.” Despite his words Remus didn’t sound that sympathetic. 

Their tones and unreadable expressions were making you much more aware of your desperation, of your need for them. You furrowed your eyebrows at the realization. 

“Oh bunny, don’t fret.” James' words did not have you any less worried. ”We can fix that for you, you’ve just got to do something for us first.”

It was ridiculous how fast they could turn you into puddy in their hands. James guided you off of his lap and moved up to whisper in Sirius’s ear, Sirius then whispered in Remus’s ear, which left you alone at the foot of the bed, emotionally and sexually frustrated.

Then suddenly they were side by side leaning against the headboard, staring at you expectantly. They were lined up in this order from left to right, James, Sirius and Remus. Sirius patted his thigh and beckoned you over with two fingers and you knew he meant business. So you crawled and straddled his thigh.

“What am I supposed to do?” Remus gave you your answer.

“Just move back and forth love.”

“Couldn’t we just-”

“No.” James' tone hardened.

You looked to Remus, but he just shook his head.

“Left us alone pup; we missed you. Now we just want to take our time.”

Sirius placed his hands on your waist and squeezed gently.

“Do you want me to help you bubs? Want Daddy to help you get off on his thigh?”

You were going to just nod, but the continuation of James stern facial expression made you know it was ideal to give a verbal answer.

“Yes please daddy.”

“Alright baby, just like this, remember?”

He led you back and forth against his thigh, catching your clothed clit at just the right angle. James grabbed hold of the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off, darling?”

“Please.”

James just stared at your chest in a trance, not realizing he was completely zoned out. 

“I think Prongs likes what he sees,” Sirius snickered. 

James elbowed Sirius in the ribs.

“Course I do, she’s beautiful.”

You whimpered.

“Pretty girl, you like being praised huh? Look at how wet it makes you, look at Sirius’s thigh. Oh.”

Oh? What was that about, now you were concerned. 

“What’s wrong Jamie?”

“Well-”

Remus held up a hand.

“Y/N, you know how I get kind of distant, emotional and irritable before a full moon?”

“Yeah? I don’t see what that has to do with- oh no!”

Sirius’s pants weren’t just stained with your arousal, oh no. Now you understood exactly why you had been feeling so low this week. Stupid fucking uterus. 

“Sirius oh my god I am so sorry!”

You tried to climb off of him, but his hands held firm.

“Don’t be sorry it’s okay.”

“Sirius let me go, I’ve gotta change.”

“Just a little longer please, you were so close and cumming will make you feel better.”

“O-okay.”

Remus quickly got up to grab a towel, and offered you his hand so you could freshen up in the bathroom. You came out wearing nothing now. James met you halfway and interlaced his fingers with yours.

“So pretty darling. C’mon lie back on the bed now.”

Sirius had changed his pants, and Remus sat against the headboard with a towel between his legs. It was intimidating spreading your legs for Sirius and James, but resting against Remus’s strong chest made it more bearable. Besides, once James had his fingers inside you, your embarrassment quickly subsided. Sirius was holding your hand now as James worked to pull an orgasm from you.

“That feel good pup? I’m sorry we didn’t keep a better track of things, but rest assured we’re gonna take such good care of you this week baby.”

You just nodded as pleasure took you to a different headspace, one where you could cast away all inhibitions in exchange for the three capable men who would make sure you were taken care of. 

Remus cupped your breasts; the feeling of his large hands brushing against your erect nipples only added to your bliss. And then, oh and then, Sirius rested his hand against your abdomen, situating himself perfectly so his thumb could lightly circle your clit.

The symphony of your moans were accompanied with the many praises of your adoring boys, anything to remove the possibility of embarrassment of the crimson towel below you. 

“So pretty love.”

“Fuck, being so good for us hmm?”

“You close love?”

They had missed you so much this week, and they really just wanted to make you feel good.

“I’m- I’m gonna.”

Sirius kissed the back of the hand he was holding while quickening his pace with the other.

“Come on love, we’ve got you. Let go for us.”

Any built up stress that was accumulated through that weak had suddenly dissolved. All you could do was sigh in relief when James and Sirius pulled their fingers from you, finally feeling at rest. God you loved them. But then James had a cheeky grin.

“You know Y/N, your cycle is basically lined up with Remus’s now. Does that mean Remus will be pmsing soon too?”

Remus’s hand collided with James' chest so quickly that it wasn’t the force of the impact that made James fall off the bed, but the shock of the speed. 

You could only giggle.

How did you manage to spend a week apart from them?

You’d try your best to avoid that in the future.

You watched Remus pull James in for a kiss by the collar of his shirt.

Yep, definitely wanted to avoid doing that again.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @accioweaslcy @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev  @agalandhermarvelobsession

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #fanfiction #smut #fanfiction smut

[certified-dumbass02]

Gold Rush (pt.1)

A college AU.

Yelena is a playgirl….but really she’s just a huge flirt who’s been too chicken to really do anything for the last year because she’s secretly just as in love with you as you are with her.

Inspired by the always excellent @peachbear88 and Taylor Swift’s gold rush. Split into two parts because I thought it was getting too long.

~*~

Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

To be fair, she’s the death of pretty much everyone she crosses paths with on campus. Her prowess has, unsurprisingly, earned her several flattering - to her, since she laughs and preens at them - nicknames: Russian Assassin, Femme Fatale…Black Widow.

With her devastatingly gorgeous good looks, frustratingly charming personality, and annoyingly enduring popularity as one of the star athletes at the university, Yelena is never short of admirers.

What’s worse is she’s fully aware of her affect on others; men, women, everything in between - they all flock to her in a crowded room, clamoring to hear the Russian lilt she inherited from her immigrant parents glide silkily over a sarcastic quip or flirtatious comment.

Being around her is like being underwater, or being sucked into a black hole; reality just doesn’t seem quite the way that it normally does. People seem to lose their sense around her, trip over themselves just to try and impress her for the night, or grab her attention.

It is for this reason that you steadily avoid Yelena.

The idea of being enamored with someone to the point of foolishness has always left a bad taste in your mouth, and eliciting that behavior just happens to be one of Yelena’s specialties.

You want no part of it.

As appealing as she is, and you can’t deny that she is, you’ve never seen yourself entering what would surely be an ill-fated endeavor with someone that everyone wants. The stubborn part of you that has always gone against the grain, that prides itself on individuality and refuses to jump on any bandwagon, will not permit you to step into the Widow’s web as most others do.

Unfortunately, despite your vow to steer clear of her, you always find yourself in her orbit. It’s not your fault, really, and it’s not a problem - at least not at first. It begins with a forced partnership, a group project for a class you share, and when she isn’t being an obnoxious, terrible flirt determined to get a rise out of you, you get along really well.

She’s intelligent, observant, and she makes you laugh - internally, of course. You won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that you actually enjoy her presence rather than just tolerate it; your other group members stroke her ego enough. When the project is over, you’re overcome with the startling realization that you might miss bantering with her. You let out a sigh of relief to be done with it, because you already know that further exposure to Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

Naturally, you are further exposed to Yelena Belova.

You two have always run in similar social circles, connected loosely by mutual friends and choice of hangout spot, but previously you’d managed to duck her prowling green gaze, at least as long as it would take her to find her toy for the evening. After you’d been placed on her radar, however, it becomes impossible to hide.

Any room you’re in, no matter how crowded, she finds you.

Time and time again, she seeks you out, her mob of admirers following. You find it amusing how ironic the situation is: they clamor for her attention, and are ignored while she clamors for your attention and you ignore her or coolly brush her off.

You know you have no business humoring her because the second you give in, you’ll just be the latest in a long line of people that she’s loved and left. You refuse to be taken for a ride.

(If you privately admit to yourself as you watch the sway of her hips and the flex of strong arms over the swell of her chest that it would be one hell of a ride, that’s nobody’s business but yours.)

The problems arise when she ceases flirting mercilessly and instead shifts into something resembling an actual human being, wiggling her way into conversations and debates with you that last throughout the night. She still flirts, of course, but you’re accustomed to it now. She grows on you and grows on you, and the moment she begins to be your friend you groan knowing you cannot stop the inevitable.

Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

~*~

It’s been almost a year of being friends with Yelena, and you are miserably, ridiculously in love with her.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned after countless conversations, shared drinks and laughs, it’s that she’s annoyingly easy to fall in love with and annoyingly difficult to fall out of love with.

Your stupid heart beats faster whenever you see her stupid gleaming eyes and her stupid glossy blonde hair that always, always falls perfectly into place around her stupid pretty face; you feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs whenever you hear that raspy Russian drawl roll over your ears and you absolutely cannot stand it.

It’s stupid- she’s Yelena, and everyone still wants her. You’re stupid because you thought you could avoid joining that statistic, and it frustrates you to no end; it’s bad enough to develop feelings for Yelena, known playgirl, but it’s even worse when you develop feelings for Yelena, your best friend.

In an effort to get over her, you let your other best friend set you up on a date with one of their friends, hoping that it can turn you into something resembling your old self, because then you can get back to acting normally around Yelena instead of…whatever this is.

You meet up with your date at your favorite bar. It’s familiarity brings you comfort because you’ve always been awful at dates, and even if you don’t know this girl, you still feel nervous.

She introduces herself as Kate as you two settle into one of the more isolated tables in the corner of the bar, and you’re grateful she seems to make conversation much less anxiously and awkwardly than you do.

Kate is pretty and seems really nice; she’s bold when she flirts with you, which catches you off guard because you’re used to how Yelena flirts. You can’t really bring yourself to flirt back, because somehow it feels like a betrayal, but Kate is patient and takes it in stride. You find yourself not resenting your best friend’s pick as much as you thought you would, and an hour and two drinks pass by rather painlessly.

Kate gets up to go to the bathroom as you thumb the wet ring around your third drink, and consider the pros and cons of replying to the text Yelena sent you hours ago.

It is truly unfortunate that just as you sit your phone down without answering, determined to leave it alone, she walks into the bar.

Yes, you know this for sure: Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

~*~

You will be the death of Yelena Belova. She knows this.

You do not.

You are everything that enchants her and frustrates her; from the moment she’s partnered with you, she can’t stop thinking about you.

Yelena is both a complicated and a simple girl.

(“I’m an onion. I have layers,” she tells you one night early in your tentative friendship, and startles because it’s the first time you’ve ever laughed aloud at something she’s said; she decides immediately it’s her favorite sound and endeavors to elicit it any chance she gets.)

Yelena is both a complicated and a simple girl, but she knows when she wants something and she always pursues what she wants.

(“It sucks!” She laments one day to her sister. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as Y/N, and I can’t even do anything about it!”

Natasha glances unimpressed at her sister dramatically plopped onto the couch beside her. “You could always, I don’t know, ask Y/N out.”

Yelena grabs a pillow and shoved her face into it with a groan. “I’ve tried that, don’t you think I’ve tried that! Every time I flirt, I’m brushed off. I’m not taken seriously!”

“Well you do look like a clown, of course it’s hard to take you seriously.”

Natasha easily dodges the pillow flung at her head as Yelena scowls at her. “Not helping, Natasha.”

“Okay, okay,” Natasha holds her hands up in surrender. “What if you tried a different approach? Maybe ease up on the flirting and try acting like a friend first.”

“But I want to be more than friends,” Yelena pouts childishly, and Natasha blinks.

“I feel like I’ve just slipped into an alternate universe. Yelena Belova wants to enter a committed relationship,” Natasha deadpans and dodges another pillow aimed at her head.)

Yes, Yelena wants you and has wanted you for a very, very long time, but she’s got no clue how to tell you she loves you without you thinking she’s joking or misunderstanding her entirely.

(“Y/N, I looooove you,” she drawls one night, drunk as you ease her into the back of your car. You don’t know it, but it’s the first night she’s turned down a convenient partner because she just couldn’t get you off her mind. Afterwords, she wasn’t sure if she got so trashed in mourning or celebration and called you because you’re the only thing solid in her vodka haze.

You answered, assumed she’d needed a DD - which she did - and rushed to take her home.

She falls in love with you even more with how quickly you come to get her, how dependable you are even in the middle of the night.

So she tells you she loves you, over and over again, and you furrow your brow at her in your rear view mirror in confusion.

Then, you giggle because she starts singing loudly.

She pouts at your laugh, and you wonder what is going on in that pretty little head, completely unaware that the only thought running through it is you.

Yelena babbles more at you, love pouring from her lips over and over because she’s desperate for you to understand that you’re the most beautiful thing she’s seen as the moonlight glances off your cheekbones in your car and she’s never met someone who calls her on her shit and you make her laugh and-

“Alright, comrade. Let’s turn you on your side. There’s a trashcan right here, and a couple of water bottles and ibuprofen right there,” you say gently as you guide her into her apartment and into her bead. She clutches at you as you slide her shoes off, tries to tell you again, but you just shake your head with a smile.

She goes quiet, stunned by the sight of it.

You pat her on the head, pull the covers over her, and turn out the light. She makes a sound of protest as you say goodnight, but stirs no further, and you leave silently back to your apartment.

Yelena wakes up with a dry mouth, a headache, and a text from you that says:

Are you alive, comrade?

She furrows her brow because you’ve never called her that before and dials your number as she guzzles down her pills and water.

As it rings she remembers telling you everything, but can’t recall your response; it makes her heart beat more rapidly than when she runs.

“Good morning, comrade!” You chirp smugly, practically hearing her wince.

“Morning. What’s with the comrade, comrade?” Yelena asks, her hope tentatively rising because you don’t sound like someone totally disgusted with her for confessing her feelings.

You laugh, and she automatically smiles in response.

“Well, you were very chatty last night.”

Her hope blooms further in her chest, because finally, finally you understand she’s serious about you.

“But you were absolutely committed to your mother tongue. I don’t think you said one word in English the whole ride back to your place, besides my name.”

It is only then that she is overcome with the crushing realization that she spent the entire night professing her love to you in Russian, which you do not speak.

Yelena feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, but she forces a choked laugh out anyways as you go on. She’s thankful you do, because she’s not sure that after all the words she’d said last night uselessly that she has any words left in her.

“You know, you kept saying something, it sounded kind of like this,” you mimic the phrase, stumbling a little over the pronunciation but it’s almost perfect. It is perfect to her.

Those green eyes you adore so much well up in tears to hear you say “I love you” to her, especially to hear it in Russian. But it’s so, so cruel because you have no idea what you’re saying, no idea what she meant when she said it to you first.

She laughs again hopelessly, quickly changes the subject and lets you rant on and on about what you have to do that day.

When you get off the phone, she sighs and falls back into bed, playing the way you said I love you over and over in her head.)

Yelena loves you, and she knows you’ll be the death of her.

She becomes especially aware of this recently, when you start acting odd. You’re distancing yourself a bit because you’re in love with her so much it hurts, but she doesn’t know that and she’s bothered like never before.

So she finds herself at her favorite bar, which is also your favorite bar, to ease her nerves. She’s both surprised and thrilled to see you sitting in the corner table there, if a little confused. Still, she’s pulled to you like a magnet, like she’s been for the past year, and she approaches you with a grin.

Pt.2:

#yelena belova #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena x you #Taylor Swift inspires gay thoughts #we love dumbasses who can’t communicate #black widow #natasha romanoff

[poisonousroxstar]

Imagine:

Hajime Hinata with a Yandere AI S/O who can control the killing game

Trigger warning: Yandere themes (reader/you), forced relationships, manipulation (mentally, emotionally, literally), pain. Probably OOC (sorry). ❗❕SPOILERS❗❕

Note: this was inspired by @daisyfics headcanons on a reader similar to Monika. Please go read them, they're very good! Also. . Idk about this one, I might rewrite it. I just felt inspired and went with it, but it's probably super ooc for hajime.

You were a rogue AI, originally made to help the remnants of despair. But in the end, you only cared about haijme. . Or izuru, but you probably preferred the former.

You took control over everything that happened in the machine, overpowering monokuma's own control. Instead of ending the killing game though, you allowed to continue.

Because, it helped get you what you wanted. And what you wanted was hajime's affection, and love, and devotion.

Hajime only saw you as another classmate at first, but he slowly began to develop a small crush on you. How couldn't he? You affected such a charming personality. He couldn't help but fall for you, especially when you showed him affection (which, originally, he was a bit uncomfortable with).

Day by day, you progressively got more clingy and even demanding of his time and attention. He'd shut you down when you'd get like this, trying to reason with you and attempting to calm you down when it was obvious you were getting jealous and even occasionally hostile; it was getting ridiculous now.

So, you'd take your anger out on the other students. You'd never harm haijme though, probably not anyway.

You began to tweak and twist the personalities and mental states of all the ultimates on the island, making them dislike, avoid, and even react aggressively towards him. He didn't know what was happening, why everyone suddenly hated him. Even chiaki and usami avoided him now, with pained and pitied looks on their faces.

And then, you'd swoop in, showering him with love and affection. You planted seeds in his mind, that he didn't need anyone else; all he needed was you. You two together could take on the entire world. Just the two of you.

And those seeds sprouted magnificently. Haijme had no one to turn to, no one that would listen except you, and your sweet comforting words brought him so much love.

The only time people would listen was during trials, which had progressively became more frequent and violent. He hadn't noticed how bad everyone had gotten, since you kept him on a tight leash.

And even during those trials, people would state their distaste towards them. He even asked why everyone hated him, and all they could reply with collectively was "I dunno, I just do".

The one who seemed to not have any dislike towards him was chiaki, who--while not being able to speak or even interact with him directly--could tell him through letters. She warned him about you, telling him in a note that you were the reason why everyone was acting strange. Why she couldn't talk to him. Why all the students suddenly couldn't stand him.

At first, he didn't believe it. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to get suspicious. You were so clingy, so suffocating even. And soon, he began to believe chiaki. Were you spreading rumours about him?? So you could isolate him? So you could have him only for yourself??

When he confronts you, asking if you were the one who made everyone dislike him, you're puzzled. How did he know?

You tell him no, that you'd never do such a thing, which he doesn't truly believe. Before he can refute, you ask him why he asked, and he replied dumbly by saying it was chiaki who told him.

And this would lead to an argument. You asking why he was with chiaki, him asking why you want to know and why she couldn't talk to him because of you.

He eventually stormed off, frustrated and angry at you. And you were left feeling the same, but now with a deadly thirst for digital blood.

Chiaki was found dead the next day, her body crushed under the weight of broken debris. Several monomi bots were alongside her, flatten into pancakes.

Hajime looked so confused, and disturbed, and distraught at the sight. And here you happened to be, trying to make him feel better. Trying to comfort him in his frozen state, likely running your hands down his arms or patting his shoulder saying 'it was bound to happen' in a neutral or possibly even jovial tone.

But hajime isn't comforted. He's actually scared now, because he thinks you did it. A deeper part of him knows you did it. And he accuses you of it, which. . While yes you did, doesn't make his tone any less hurtful.

So, you tell him the truth about it. How you only did it because she was getting in the way of something she couldn't understand! She was a threat, and had to be taken care of. You described everything, and it only made him feel sick and revolted at you.

He tells you you're a monster, a murderer, and that he's gonna tell everyone what you did. And those words sting, and they make you angry.

So you threatened him, telling him you'll get rid of everyone if he doesn't act like you wanted him too. He challenges this remark, and so you fight back.

You show him exactly what you mean by reanimating chiaki's broken corpse, moving it and speaking through it like a puppet. He's stunned at first, before he freaks out and flinches away when you move it closer to him.

You bring him to where everyone else is, and display just how much power you have over this world. You begin to bring everyone who died back, this time really alive and working. Everyone's shocked, some are even happy. But that happiness is short-lived when you give in to the power.

You started to twist the world around you, and began to corrupt and brutally change everyone. You had them killed, brought back; executed, brought back, and so on. And hajime has to watch them killed in front of his eyes again, and again, and again.

You even punish him too by forcing him to remember who he really was, overloading his senses, and then going even further by killing and executing him as well.

He's breaking down faster then you thought, begging you to stop. He's crying, and in so much pain, but you just keep it going until you think he's had enough. And that isn't until hours in. Or at least what he thinks is hours.

When you're done, everything's gone black. Everyone's gone. There's only hajime in the fetal position, eyes stained with tears and exhaustion. He's shivering, and even the faintest touch would induce pain to him in this moment.

And then you swoop in, gently caressing his skin. Even if his body appeared fine, the pain and cuts and bruises still felt like they were there. So when your touch only caused him to feel soothed and calm, he was confused. . And instinctively his body wriggled closer to you. Weakly

You whispered into his ear, shushing his silent sobs and flinching. You told him it was all ok, it was all alright. You were here, and that's all he needed.

After that, hajime was careful.

You 'reset' the program, bringing everybody and everything back to their original slates. Except for hajime. He's forced to remember what you did to him. You make sure he remembers so he won't step out of line.

Chiaki and monomi are gone. They were no longer needed. And knowing you erased them completely just adds another layer of despair and depression for him.

He hates you. He fears you, but what can he do? You have him and everyone else in your control.

Don't bother thinking the future foundation will help either. Your control is so extreme, you're able to work the machines now. And besides

Their bodies are long dead anyway.

They'll never leave you. . He'll never leave you.

If hajime tries to fight against your grip well. . You may just have to punish him again. And if that still doesn't fix him, then. .

Maybe you'll have to be much more direct with the problem, by picking apart and swapping around his code. After all, everything's just 1s and 0s now.

He may come a little different, but he's still your hajime. He's just. . The version you want him to be.

And if that is the route you choose, then he'll love you unconditionally.

And really, that's all you want.

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #dr #hajime hinata #x reader #anime x reader #anime imagine #imagines #danganronpa x reader #x y/n #x s/o #yandere headcanons #yandere reader #yandere y/n #yandere s/o #hajime hinata x reader #hajime x reader #danganronpa hajime x reader #hajime x y/n #hajime x s/o #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral s/o #gender neutral reader #romantic headcanons #romantic yandere #yandere romantic

[reidsnose]

completely and utterly, wholeheartedly and hopelessly (spencer reid x reader)

overview: spencer helps his best friend talk through her emotions

genre: angst? and fluff

warnings: mentions of cheating, bad coping mechanisms, idrk what else reader being upset for a little bit

a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app FOREVER but idk how i feel ab this one im usually strictly fluff so yall lmk :)

masterlist

you hated talking about your feelings. you knew it was unhealthy to keep it bottled and and 'deal with it on your own' but that didn't stop you from doing exactly that.

the worst part about your feelings right now was that you isolate to cope with them. you didn't want to interact with anyone at all because more likely than not you would lash out at them on accident. it just slips out sometimes.

when you trudged into the bullpen with your head down and your hands fidgeting with your zipper, you didn't even notice all eyes on you. you werent your usual happy self. you weren't being loud, you weren't cracking jokes. you were just begrudgingly existing amongst your favorite people and they knew there was something wrong.

"good morning gorgeous, its a paperwork day! that means no traveling!" garcia informed you brightly, trying to lighten my mood.

"oh. cool. thanks." you answered back, flashing her as much of a smile as you could muster after realizing the harshness of your words.

she shot morgan a look, to which he raised an eyebrow.

"hey pretty lady," he began as he walked over to you, "whats going on? did you drink some grumpy juice for breakfast?"

"no. im fine." you replied flatly, making your way to your desk.

"what in the world.." he whispered to garcia, not knowing you could still hear.

or maybe he did know. maybe he was trying to get on your nerves. no. this is the irritability talking. morgan was just being a good friend.

you groaned at your computer, retyping the same password for the 4th time.

this time Prentiss shot you a look.

"is everything ok?" she asked, smiling slightly.

"yeah my computer is being stupid." you rolled your eyes as it finally let you in.

"oh i know the feeling. if you need any help-"

"I'm alright. thanks." you cut her off, eyes glued to the file you were working on.

JJ, who had witnessed the whole interaction unfold, stood with her mouth agape.

"spence, your bestie needs you!" JJ tapped his shoulder and motioned to you.

he watched your jaw rhythmically clench and unclench. your tell. thats what you always did when you were irritated or angry.

"hey y/n," he hummed, sitting lightly on the corner of your desk, crinkling some of your paper work.

"Reid! my files!" you cried, swatting his thigh. he got up and murmured an apology.

"are you ok?" he asked simply, crouching down to meet your height as you sat in your chair.

"why does everyone keep asking me that!"

you knew why. you were being a bitch.

"you just called me Reid." he stated.

"its your name." you replied, not meeting his gaze.

"yeah but you always-" he began.

"I'm not in the mood right now."

he sighed, "if you need someone to talk to-"

"i don't need anyone to talk to because theres nothing to talk about!" you interrupted, causing him to furrow his eyebrows at the tone of my voice.

'i shouldn't be mean to him. why am i acting like this?' you thought to yourself

"ok, ill be over there if you need me," he threw his hands up in surrender.

you mumbled an ok and went back to distracting yourself with work. you were so invested in filing these cases you completely lost track of time and before you knew it, it was just you, Hotch, and Spencer left in the office. you vaguely remembered waving goodbye to your other coworkers but you didn't remember it being nearly 6pm.

"guys go home, you've done a lot today," Hotch said as he crossed the bullpen, making his way towards the glass doors.

"yeah i will i'm almost done," you answered, not looking up from my screen.

"good night, Hotch," Spencer called from the break room.

you stared at your screen, eyes burning. you did enough. you cant escape confronting your feelings much longer. you sighed as you began packing up.

as if on cue, Spencer walked out of the break room with two cups in his hands, steam rising from the both of them. your mood softened just a bit.

"here," he handed you your drink which he had filled with your favorite tea and sweetened just the way you like it.

"you didnt have to." you replied, setting down the warm cup as you finished packing up. he mirrored your movements, resting his satchel across his torso before picking his drink back up.

"i know." he answered simply, a gentle smiling resting on his lips before he took a sip of his own tea.

"im sorry for snapping at you earlier." you apologized, finally meeting his gaze. his eyes were soft and sweet and you felt a pang of guilt in your heart as they looked into your own.

"its ok. do you want to tell me why?" he asked, walking to the elevator with you.

"no. yes? i dont know. its stupid." you replied, looking down at the floor as you recounted your reason for my anger today.

"its not stupid." he spoke softly.

you scoffed lightly, "you dont even know what it is."

"so tell me."

"but its dumb!"

"y/n." he warned.

"my ex boyfriend, Ashton, is getting married to the girl he cheated on me with." you sighed, walking through the parking lot with Spencer.

"ah so Trashton put my favorite ray of sunshine in a bad mood." he joked, breath swirling around the cool air as he spoke

you let out a weary chuckle, "its not like i miss him or anything, i just wish i had someone! not him- i just- i want- ugh i don't know how to word this!" you grew frustrated, furrowing your eyebrows and balling your hands into fists.

you knew exactly how to word it.

you wanted Spencer.

"its ok, take all the time you need." he whispered, leaning on the hood of your car. you joined him, resting as you took a sip of your tea.

"why am i not good enough to be loved." you stated the question rather than asking it, eyes filling with tears.

"you are good enough and i promise you that you are loved more than you know." he affirmed gently, turning to face you.

"do you know why we broke up?" you asked, knowing if you acknowledged his previous comment you wouldn't be able to continue without sobbing.

"because he cheated on you." he answered confidently.

"no." you shook your head, fighting back tears.

"what? he didn't cheat on you?"

"he did. and i was going to forgive him for that."

Spencer started getting riled up, "what! why? you're worth more than that scumbag! you shouldn't ha-"

"Spencer just let me finish!" you cut him off. he went silent, chest rising and falling more rhythmically than it had seconds earlier. "he wanted me to chose. him or you."

"him or me?" he furrowed his eyebrows, voice much quieter now.

"mhm." you hummed not meeting his gaze, your cheeks redder than you'd like to admit.

"i don't understand." he breathed.

"he thought i was cheating on him with you. he had no proof and it w-"

"oh this is all my fault. y/n i'm so sorry!"

"no! spence its not your fault!" you grabbed his arm to reassure him.

"it is! your boyfriend broke up with you because of me! and now you're sad and lonely and its all my fault!" he cried, looking worriedly into your eyes.

"first of all, i broke it off with him, he just gave the ultimatum. secondly, you did me a favor."

"how?"

"by showing me who i was really dating. a cheating, insecure scumbag who was quick to replace me when i left."

"i guess thats true."

"and id pick you over him any day." you admitted, looking back down at the ground. he nudged your shoulder playfully and you cracked a sad smile

"im sorry i made you sad and lonely."

"you didnt. id be sad and lonely anyway."

"why? you would still have a boyfriend if it wasn't for me."

"i don't want a boyfriend if it isn't you."

shit. shit.

the words toppled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"what?" he asked, wide eyes and looking a little shocked. spencer was sure in that very moment that if he heard you correctly hed simply explode.

"i- no this was a bad idea. i just ruined everything didnt i!" you were speaking more to yourself, exasperated at your own stupidity.

"no," you felt him place a finger to your chin and lift your gaze to meet his, "im glad you said it because now i can admit it."

"admit what?"

"that im completely and utterly, wholeheartedly and hopelessly in love with you."

"spencer dont play with my heart like this. are you being serious?"

"yes. i am." he said with a strange confidence than you had never heard before. hesitant but sure.

"oh thats so lucky because i am completely and utterly, wholeheartedly and hopelessly in love with you too." you admitted, feeling about 100 pounds lighter, like you could fly. he pulled you into a bone crushing hug which you eagerly accepted. "i should talk about my feelings more often."

he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, "yes you should."

world littlest taglist:

@mac99martin

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #penelope garcia #derek morgan #garcia #morgan #reid #spencer reid fanfic #prentiss #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jereau #agent jareau #fluff #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #aaron hotchner #agent aaron hotchner #agent hotchner #hotch

[mochegato]

Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette pulled her coat closer around her as she made her way from the bus stop to her apartment.  She had made the brilliant decision when she moved here not to get a car because… Gotham.  The likelihood that it would get damaged or destroyed in some kind of attack was ridiculously high.  The likelihood the bus would get blown up or taken over, while definitely still present, was significantly lower.

But today she was regretting that decision.  It meant she couldn’t isolate herself like she wanted to.  It meant she was exposed to anybody and everybody at the bus stop and on the bus and on the sidewalk and any one of them could have been the one to drug her.  She eyed the people around her as she walked.  Okay, maybe not the woman who looked like she was in her 90’s and could barely walk… and dropped her knitting out of her bag.

Marinette rushed over to her and paused right before reaching her. She twirled around and scanned the faces around her.  She could feel somebody watching her.  She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her every move.  She studied the shadows and the windows, but couldn’t find anyone watching her.  She frowned slightly and shook her head.  She was getting paranoid.  She was seeing and feeling things that weren’t there.  

She sighed and turned back to the woman, crouching down to help her put her knitting back in her bag.  The woman smiled in appreciation, which Marinette returned with a shaky one of her own.  She walked the remaining few feet to her apartment building and took a cautious look up and down the dark street before turning into it.  She made sure she heard the click of the door latching before continuing up the stairs, not that it would do anything.  Logically she knew that, but her anxiety still demanded it.

She kept her eyes on the stairwell as she made her way up to her apartment on the top floor, eyes hyper vigilant for any movement, her ears hyper sensitive to any sounds from the stairs.  She got to her floor and paused for a few moments waiting to see if any sounds or movement indicated someone behind her.  She let out a relieved sigh when there was no noise and turned to her apartment before letting out a muffled screech.

Jason jumped, dropping his phone he had been scrolling on, in his rush to hold up his hands in a placating motion.  “Just me.  It’s okay. It’s just me.”  He watched her for a few seconds.  She was starting to breathe hard, her eyes were boring into him. “Although I just realized you may not remember me.  So this was actually an incredibly stupid plan.”  He took a few steps away from her door, his hands still held up to let her know he wasn’t a threat.

Marinette continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, forcing her breathing to slow.  “You… you’re Tim’s brother, right?  You… you were…” she squinted at him, “you were in my bedroom?”

Jason grimaced and looked down to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah… that doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?”

She eyed him suspiciously.  “What are you doing here?”  

He perked up slightly and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing today.  It can hit a day or a few days later sometimes.  And I’m a security expert.  I consult on it for people and companies.  I wanted to offer to check your security for you so you’d feel safe, at least when you’re at home.”  He turned to her door and knocked on the doorframe.  “I can already tell that you need better locks.  I could have broken in easily, but I didn’t think you would appreciate finding me in your apartment.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but let out a quiet chuckle and looked away after a few seconds.  “You would be right.”  She looked back up at him and tentatively walked over closer to her door.  “But, I don’t think I can afford to hire you.”

Jason waved off her concern.  “I wouldn’t let you.  I’d charge Tim for it.  He can afford it and he’s worried enough that I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t contacted me already, but I suppose that has something to do with him not wanting you to meet me in the first place.”

Marinette quirked her lips to the side and studied him.  The longer she watched and talked to him the more memories came back and the clearer they became.  She was slowly starting to get bits and pieces of the night before, not enough to create a coherent picture, just incredibly short scenes, a word here, a smile there.  Regardless of what she could remember though, this was Tim’s brother and although Tim didn’t want them to meet, he trusted him, not that she would ever be allowed to say that out loud to either of them.  

She finally nodded and pulled out her keys.  “Well, I can at least offer you dinner while you’re here. If you’d like.”  She gave him a small smile as she passed him into the apartment taking off her coat and dropping her bag on the small dining room table.

Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise.  After the way she had reacted when she saw him, he honestly didn’t think she would talk to him let alone let him into her apartment.  He was starting to understand how she could have gotten drugged so easily if she was that trusting.  But then again, Tim had said they all were being careful. Her even more so than the others. So why was she so trusting now?  “I would never turn down free food,” he said slowly.

He closed the door behind him with a quick glance at the inside part of the lock, confirming his original suspicions.  Standard issue, not particularly secure.  He could have picked it in all of three minutes when he was only eight.  He didn’t have to lean down to study the doorknob to know it was in worse condition. One good kick and the door would be wide open.  He sighed. If anyone wanted to get into her apartment, it wouldn’t take them very much effort.

He turned back to the apartment, letting his frown morph into a smile.  Her apartment was cozy and lived in and very much her.  There were touches of her everywhere along with some touches that he wouldn’t have expected.  He shook his head at the condition of the apartment.  It wasn’t terribly messy but it also wouldn’t count as anything close to clean.  He could see why she and Tim got along so well.  Neither could clean up after themselves to save their lives.  

There were bits of fabric and half completed sewing projects scattered around along with random pages of scientific reports.  He raised an eyebrow at that.  Odd combination.  His eyes caught on men’s shoes by the door.  He scrunched his forehead in confusion.  If she lived with someone, where were they?  Where were they last night?  Why hadn’t Tim mentioned him?  “You live with someone?  A boyfriend?”

Marinette looked up from the refrigerator.  “No.  Well, yes, but no.  I live with my best friend,” she explained quickly, “but he’s visiting friends this week.”

Jason nodded.  That was good at least.  She wasn’t living alone.  There was someone else with her usually.  That makes it less likely someone could just break in and attack her.  He moved over to the window and sighed again, more deeply this time.  It was worse than the door.  “No curtains. You should probably get some, preferably lined ones.  This lock is ancient too.  It wouldn’t take much to jimmy it.  We’ll get you new locks for your windows and your door.”

Marinette looked at him wide eyed as she set a bunch of grapes and a jug of filtered water from the refrigerator on the counter.  She hadn’t been expecting the locks to be that bad.  She knew it wasn’t amazing, but then again, she hadn’t really been too concerned about being specifically targeted here.  Nobody really knew who she was, or rather used to be.  She was just an average citizen here.  

She stared at the window for a few seconds, her head cocking to the side and her eyes unfocusing as her mind wandered through the possibilities of what could have happened and what still could.  She was no longer safe, not even in her own home.  But then again, she never really had been had she?  She had just thought she was.  She thought she was safer after they’d defeated Hawkmoth, but she’d just traded one danger for another.

Jason watched as her face morphed from one expression to another, her eyes distant.  Her face clearly displaying each and every emotion she was going through, no matter how flitting.  Jason could guess where her head went.  When her eyes started shimmering, he opened his mouth to bring her out of it when her phone rang.  She jerked back violently, knocking over the jug of water.  

She cursed as she tried to stop the jug’s descent only to knock it further away, further spreading the water.  She gave a defeated groan and grabbed a towel from a nearby drawer to start sopping up the water.  Jason jumped to grab a few more towels to help.  It took a few minutes, but they were finally able to clean up the water with a minimum of damage to papers left on the counter.  Luckily, none of Marinette’s sketches were on the island anymore but Adrien was definitely going to have to reprint some of his papers for research.

Marinette gave Jason an appreciative smile and threw the papers in recycling and the towels in the sink.  She let out a deep frustrated sigh as she leaned against the counter.  After a few seconds, she ran her hands through her hair and laughed.  Jason frowned at the sound.  It was short and mirthless and sounded utterly wrong coming from her.  He could see her starting to spin but didn’t know her well enough to know how to help.  God, he really hadn’t thought this through.

Jason very slowly started reaching for her so she could see his hands coming.  Shen she didn’t shy away, he set a hand on her arm to ground her.  She looked up into his eyes, panicked eyes meeting concerned eyes. They both jumped when her phone started ringing again.  They both chuckled quietly at their reactions.  

“Sorry…” she started but was cut off by another ring.  She shook her head at herself.  She hadn’t even noticed the original call had dropped.  She checked the caller id and smiled at the phone. “Hey Tim.”  She paused to listen to him.  “No, I’m fine.  I just… I knocked something over and was cleaning it.  Sorry for scaring you.”

She gave Jason an apologetic smile as she listened to Tim.  “I’m doing okay, I guess.  I think I’m just jumpy… and getting paranoid.  I could have sworn someone was watching me walk home, but when I looked nobody was around or rather nobody was paying attention to me.” She missed the slight grimace Jason shot toward the floor.  “No, thank you though.  Actually, your brother is here already.”  She smiled at Jason again and put Tim on speaker.  

“…that so.  That’s very thoughtful of him,” Tim quipped in a clipped tone.

“Yeah, he’s checking my locks,” Marinette continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension in his voice, or attributing it to his concern.  “Apparently my door and window locks are pretty bad,” Marinette frowned at the thought.

“Uh huh.  Well it’s just so great that he came over then,” Tim gritted out.

Marinette did a double take when Jason’s phone dinged repeatedly with an extended series of text notifications.  She blinked at it a few times before looking questioningly at Jason. He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off.  He met her eyes with a shrug and a wink as he sat at her island.

“Tell him I say hi and remind him he has plans with Bruce soon,” Tim continued tightly.

Jason huffed.  “Tell him to tell B, I'm not going on patrol until Demon Spawn calms down.  And tell him I’m sending him the bill for this.”  He motioned vaguely around them.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim conceded easily before his voice turned harsh again, “And tell him…”

“You two do realize you can hear each other and you two both know you can hear each other and I know you can hear each other and I’m not an owl!” Marinette admonished them sharply.

The room was silent for a few seconds before Tim started chuckling.  “Sorry, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry.”  She nodded at the phone even though he couldn’t see her.

“Hey!  That makes me Ron?  What the fuck?” Jason objected raising up from his seat in offense.

“Oh come on, you’d look good with red hair,” Marinette teased him lightly.

“You better fucking not be Ron,” Tim growled.   “You’re more like Draco anyway,” he continued flippantly.

“Fuck you, Pretender,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, this is making me feel better,” Marinette sighed, leaning against the counter.

There was a guilty pause as the men took in her words.  “Sorry,” Jason finally spoke up after a while.

“What?”  Marinette gave him a curious look until realization set in.  “Oh!  No, I was serious.  You two remind me of my friends.  It feels comforting, normal.”

Tim waited a second before speaking up cautiously. “So… you’re okay for tonight?  You feel safe?”

Marinette smiled at the phone again.  “Yeah, Tim.  I’m okay.  Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course.  Let me know if that changes.  I’ll be over in three minutes flat,” he promised.

Marinette grinned mischievously.  “Do I get a free pizza if you take longer?”

Tim huffed out a laugh.  “Absolutely.”

“Sweet.  I might test it just for that,” she teased him.  “Night, Tim.”

“Night.  And tell Jason to turn his phone back on before I do it for him.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Still not an owl,” she singsonged before she hung up.  She looked over to Jason with a concerned smile. “Do you have to go?  It sounded like you already had plans?”

Jason waved her off and took the battery out of his phone before leaning against the counter near her.  “I have plenty of time.  Like I said, if I show up now De… Damian is going to attack me.” Marinette’s eyes widened in concern but Jason waved her off again.  “It’s fine. He isn’t as tough as he thinks he is. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but Bruce would yell at me for it and Dick would give me his disappointed in you lecture.  It’s better for everyone if I stay away for a few days.”  

He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tim just doesn’t want me stealing his friend away with my superior looks and charm.”

Marinette scowled lightly at him.  “Tim is very handsome and charming,” she insisted defensively.

Jason shot her a devilish smile.  “But not as much as me, right?”

Marinette scoffed at him and rolled her eyes.  “You certainly seem to think so.”  She rinsed some grapes and set them in a bowl between the two of them. “But he’s the only reason you’re here right now.  If you weren’t Tim’s brother and we hadn’t met last night when you were fairly respectful of me in my… state…”

“Fairly!?” Jason squawked.

“I’d have called, well, not the cops, but Tim, to take care of you,” she continued over him.  She grabbed a grape and chewed on it while she watched him appraisingly as she leaned back against the counter opposite him.  “Do you make a habit of stealing his friends?”

Jason shrugged and grabbed a few grapes.  “No, we generally move in different…” he searched for a nice way to phrase it, “circles.”

She hummed in response.  “And yet here you are, willingly entering in a circle with one of his friends.” She eyed him pointedly.  She quickly broke their eye contact to look down and cross her arms over her chest protectively.  “Thank you for breaking into this particular circle to help me out. Last night spooked me more than I want to admit.”

“Did you want to talk about it?  Or pretend like it never happened.  I can help with either,” Jason offered.

Marinette stared at the grapes for a while without talking. Jason was certain she was about to start spiraling again when she spoke up quietly.  “I was keeping an eye on my drinks.  I only took my eyes off of them when I was around people I trusted and we weren’t exactly close to other people for someone to just slip something in.”  She frowned and looked at nothing in particular. She poured herself a glass of water and held the rim of the glass against her lips without drinking it as she remembered the night before.  “I don’t know which scares me more, that someone was that good to get it in with all of us there or…”

“That one of the people you trust might be responsible,” Jason finished for her after a few seconds of silence.  When she looked up to meet her eyes, she looked so shaken and uncertain, he wanted to pull her into a tight, reassuring hug, but after the night before, he wasn’t sure a virtual stranger’s embrace would be the most reassuring.  He settled for moving to lean against the counter next to her so their arms were almost touching, but she still had her personal space.

“Yeah,” she said wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms.  

“You think you were the intended victim?” he asked curiously.  He and Tim had already discussed the night and decided that she had to be, but he was curious what her thoughts were.  “You don’t think it was just opportunistic.  You think whoever was with targeting you.”

She shook her head and looked down, frowning at the floor.  She gripped her arms tighter.  “I don’t know.  I was never alone and I only drank with my friends at our own table away from other people.  I mean someone at the bar could have drugged it before it was brought over when the waitress brought drinks but…”

“How would they know who it would go to,” Jason finished again.  “Seems unlikely they’d risk the drug like that if they didn’t know who it would go to. If they didn’t have a plan to get the person out.”

Marinette looked up at him anxiously and nodded.  She studied him for a few more seconds before she shook herself out of her daze.  She looked up at him with a fake smile.  “So what are you feeling for dinner?  I can make some pasta.  I can do stir fry.  I can whip up a casserole.  What do you want?”

“I’ll be happy with whatever you feel like having tonight,” he assured her with a smile.

“I don’t… really… feel like eating,” she mumbled, looking away again. “This is more something for me to focus on instead of last night.”

Jason gave her a gentle smile and lowered himself to her level, trying to gain her attention.  “Look, I know you don’t know me but why don’t we order take out and we can watch a movie, or if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she answered quickly, instantly looking over to him with a desperate look in her eyes.

Jason nodded slowly and gave her a gentle smile.  He rested his hands lightly on her arms to reassure her he was there and not going anywhere unless she wanted him to.  “That’s understandable.  I wouldn’t want to be either.  Do you want me to call Tim over?  I know you probably feel safer with him and when he can’t be here in three minutes, you get a pizza.”

She gave him a wan smile.  “No, I trust you.  And I’m not really feeling pizza right now.”

Jason smiled back.  “I want to joke and say that’s a terrible decision, but now doesn’t seem like the best time.” She gave him a deadpan look that made his grin widen.  “I’ll save that for later,” he finished with a wink. His expression quickly turned serious as he watched her.  “You should eat though.  What kind of food do you want to try?  There’s a good Indian restaurant around the corner.”

She looked away.  “I don’t want to order out.  I don’t want food that I…”

Jason nodded and moved closer again.  “Yeah, that’s reasonable.  Let’s make something together, yeah?  I saw some eggs and milk in your refrigerator and there’s bread on the counter.  How do you feel about breakfast for dinner?  French toast sound good?  I think you call it Lost Bread?  And how do you feel about Clueless?”

“The movie?” she asked confused.

“Yeah, adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.”

“Fan of Alicia Silverstone or Jane Austen?” she teased weakly.

“Both,” Jason answered with a wink.

Marinette snickered and nodded.  “That all sounds amazing.”  She moved away to start getting the pan and bowls out, watching him while he got the ingredients prepared.  “Thank you, Jason.  You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No problem.  We’ll get things figured out so you can feel safe, or at least as safe as you can feel in Gotham,” he assured her, and himself.  They were going to find who drugged her and make her feel safe again.  Whoever it was messed with one of Tim’s friends, one of the few he really trusted, that means whoever it was messed with his family and nobody messed with their family.

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @demonicbusiness @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - night #Jasonette Protection Program

[charlie-rulerofhell]

For they know exactly what they do

Today there was a pretty long article published in the German newspaper FAZ, written by Julia Schaaf. Since there were quite a few interesting topics raised in it and Måneskin talked about some new aspects (or in more detail), I translated the whole thing (it might also have helped me to procrastinate).

Full interview in English under the cut.

For they know exactly what they do

June 22, 2021

Four young rock musicians from Rome are today's hottest band. Måneskin are enchanting Europe. Why? We met them for an interview.

Every romance needs its founding myth, an anecdote from the beginning, something you can tell later in more difficult times for self-assurance.

In the case of the band Måneskin, who first had Italy and now half of Europe wrapped around their fingers, and who are now trying to conquer the rest of the world with their rock music, there is the story of the shoe box. Rome, around five years ago: Four teenagers who are meeting every day after school in their rehearsal room to make music together, and sometimes they play their songs on the Via del Corso in the city centre in front of a changing audience. One day they want to record their own stuff. They find a studio that they can actually afford and as they go there they bring a shoe box, with the name of the band written on it, 'moonshine' in Danish, the bassist's mother is Danish. In the box: around seven kilogram of coins. The things you get from playing music on the streets. Everyone searching through Instagram for photos from that time can find four hippies with children's faces, three boys in batik, the girl is wearing a straw hat.

As they have to pay [for the recording], frontman Damiano David, 22, says that there was this guy, Angelo, and his bandmate Victoria De Angelis, 21, is interrupting: “No, Andrea, not Angelo”, and all of them have to laugh because a rigid studio manager with the Italian name 'angel' would be even funnier for a founding myth. David continues his story: “The guy was completely dumbfounded. 'We can't do that.' We went: 'Sure we can, that's worth the same even if it's just 20 cent coins, it's still 300 euros.” Thomas Raggi, 20, the guitarist of the band, is gasping for air as he laughs, while drummer Ethan Torchio, 20, is smiling dreamily. David finishes: “And then we snuck off before he was able to count it.” [the German text says 'verdrücken' here which is just a colloquial way of saying 'we left', but it entails some sort of a dramatic exit, so yeah, let your thoughts get creative how they left exactly :D].

Four young musicians on the verge of global fame are sitting on a white interview sofa in Berlin, completely styled, babbling across each other like overeager teenagers.

Ever since the Roman band first won the music festival Sanremo and then also the Eurovision Song Contest, carried by the enthusiasm of European viewers, you could say Måneskin has become a phenomenon. “Rock 'n' Roll never dies!”, Damiano David yelled fueled by the adrenaline of winning, and the insinuation that circulated on social media of the singer snorting during the counting of votes in front of a live camera – including their strict denial followed by a negative drug test result – might have given an additional boost to their public interest, their exploding album, ticket and merch sales, and their outstanding success on Spotify.

“We think it's a shit prejudice against rock music that there always have to be drugs involved. We fully threw ourselves into our participation with the utmost professionalism. We give everything for the music. So of course we don't want people to think that we can only do that because we take drugs.” – Victoria De Angelis

Prior to Eurovision, Måneskin was more of an insider's tip outside of Italy. Handmade rock music, not creating something entirely new but paying homage to the good old times with classic guitar riffs and cracking drum beats, being a lot of fun but also quite fragile and vulnerable at times and, first and foremost, conveying a captivating energy. Finally, on the stage of Rotterdam, live after so many months of isolation and renunciation, this wave of energy spilled straight over into European living rooms. It seemed easy to (mistakenly) interpret the winning song “Zitti e buoni” (Shut up and behave) as a declaration of frustration of our youth in times of a pandemic. In fact, singer Damiano David is singing about the favourite topic of the band: the unrelenting need to, against all odds, be yourself, despite or perhaps because you are different. The message fits their provocative sex appeal, which the band uses to demonstrate their independence of gender norms at any given time. But the core essence of rock music has always been the promise of unlimited freedom.

Thus at the first moment, the meeting with Måneskin is kind of startling. It's Wednesday, we are in the top floor of the new Sony head quarters in Berlin. The four Italians have just started their two-week long promotion tour through Europe. In the afternoon there will be a live concert in a queer club [the SchwuZ, but that's not mentioned here] in Neukölln, which will be streamed via TikTok. Around one million viewers will watch the show, some of them even from Brazil, so people at Sony are pretty excited [for Måneskin to come here]. But at first, these stunningly gorgeous creatures [yes, that's the exact wording :D] are standing surrounded by an entourage of people – their management, PR team, a stylist, a photographer, people who can hold a smartphone or a cigarette if needed [this paragraph is worded a little weirdly, especially taking into account that basically their whole team / 'entourage' is just friends of them, but it seems like the journalist didn't know that or maybe they just wanted to describe their first impression]. They seem like fictional / artificial characters out of a Hollywood movie. Transparent frill blouses with blazers and flared leather trousers, even the platform boots, everything brand-new, the makeup makes their faces look like a glossy magazine cover even in person. The smokey eyes of De Angelis and Raggi make them look smug and bored. Later, on the pictures it will probably look cool.

So of course your first impression might be: This band is under contract to industry giant Sony ever since their success on an Italian casting show [X Factor] in Winter 2017. The music industry must have its hand in the game when a band is photographed half-naked by Oliviero Toscani and styled by Etro. Also, one does not simply rent a villa with a pool in Rome to produce new music there, isolated from the rest of the world. And who else went to London for two whole months, shortly before the winter lockdown, just for inspiration? After the TikTok concert in Berlin – De Angelis and David are now wearing fishnet shirts that sparkle with every move, their bare nipples covered with an X of black tape – the band is posing with a few influencers. In the world of social media you would call that 'producing content'. But what does that mean for a band who are preaching their hosanna of authenticity? How authentic is Måneskin? And is their pointedly casual approach to sexuality and gender cliches in today's pop-cultural spirit more than a marketing strategy?

We're in the interview, the recording device is running for not even five minutes, when Victoria De Angelis says: “Actually, we just try to be ourselves and do what we really want to do.” And really: The more you listen to those four how they speak about the early days of the band in their slurred Roman dialect, about the shoe box and their own experiences with being different, but most importantly about their shared obsession [with music], the more you realise that [De Angelis] is  very serious. Ethan Torchio, who got his first drum kit at the age of six or seven from his father because he was beating everything he could reach, says: “For me, music is like food. I cannot live without it.” The bassist next to him laughs at his pathos. Singer Damiano David applauds the otherwise more reserved friend for his truthfulness [it says 'klarer Punkt', meaning 'for the point he makes', but it makes it seem like Damiano is agreeing with Ethan here, although it doesn't indicate whether he agrees that yes, music is everything for Ethan or that he understands and feels the same].

De Angelis and guitarist Raggi already knew each other from middle school and they were the ones who tried to form a band at the age of only 13, a band that actually took music seriously.

De Angelis: “It's just difficult at that age to find other people who really put everything into music and who truly commit themselves and are willing to invest a lot of their time.”

Raggi: “We set strict rules and scheduled fixed times for the rehearsals, for every day.”

David: “Fever, stomach ache, there was no excuse. Even if you were feeling sick in the rehearsal room. At least you were in the rehearsal room.”

The way the four of them talk across each other, completing each other's sentences, taking turns in talking and sometimes joking about each other, seems intimate and playful. Singer David remembers how at first bassist [De Angelis] was merciless towards him when it came to her first metal band project, as she told him that he wasn't committed enough [to the music]: “Back then I was still playing Basketball. I was one of the people that Vic absolutely didn't want [in her band].” Drummer Torchio was later discovered through Facebook, even though there had already been a drummer, a close friend, but he was not good enough. It seems as if even back then music was everything for them. Even if it meant that only Raggi managed to graduate.

And why rock, why rock music of all things? Because it's great, the four of them say in unison. David adds: “Actually, it's a genre that allows you to do everything you want to do.”

When they played on the street, they were laughed at by their classmates. But not only there. De Angelis explains that she never wanted to be a typical girl: “I was always deterred by those stupid boxes that people put you in, and that are just restricting and constraining you, because something is only regarded as male or female. I always rejected that. Instead, I just wanted to do the things I enjoyed doing, I went skating and played football.” Torchio says: “Friends who are not friends anymore were already telling me at the age of ten that those“ – he grabs his long, silky black hair – “were wrong. Because I'm a boy and boys are meant to have short hair, long hair is only for girls. I was bullied a lot for that.”

“Compared to the past, people in our age became much more open-minded. It gets better.” – Thomas Raggi

Frontman David on the other hand, for whom eye shadow, jingling earrings and nail polish as well as his bare torso with the tattoos have become trademarks by now, says: “I was actually more of the average boy.” De Angelis convinced him to try out some eyeliner, which he describes as a spiritual awakening: “I liked myself much more [with makeup]. I saw myself more as myself. As if it had been a suppressed desire of mine.” On a trip to Copenhagen with the others, when he realised that it really didn't matter what people were thinking about him, he got his first fake fur [coat? the article doesn't specify that] in a second-hand shop and let his clothing style be guided by his own love to experiment: “I realised that my whole life I was just going at half speed.” When it comes to diversity all four of them are becoming almost missionary.

At the same time, their success is not only opening doors for them. Back home in Rome they are barely able to go out on the street due to all the paparazzi. “[You need a] hoodie and huge sunglasses”, David says, “the mask is quite helpful, too.” And still, none of them is complaining, and Torchio explains why: “Even if those experiences right now may have sides that are not so pleasant, we still know that for us a dream is coming true. We experience something that we always had in our minds, so we are willing to face every consequence that this entails.”

So is the band facing difficult times, is Måneskin going to change with all the success? Again, all of them answer at the same time.

David: “I'm not worried about that.”

Raggi: “No way!”

De Angelis: “On the contrary. Everything that happened to us happened because we are who we are, so we want to continue the exact same way and stay ourselves.”

Just a few hours later, they are at the stage in Neukölln, bouncing around like pinballs, hammering at their instruments, flirting with each other. “We are out of our minds, but different from the others”, David sings their winning hymn against conformism, and: “The people talk, unfortunately they talk.” Here on stage, the four paradise birds [a German word describing someone with a flamboyant personality] with their half-nude-glittering outfits are radiating an incredible energy with the utmost sincerity, and you begin to wish there was a live audience instead of the TikTok cameras, absorbing and spreading this energy. Måneskin. A cry for a life after the pandemic, a cry for freedom and a better world.

“We do what we wished for all our lives.” – Ethan Torchio

#måneskin #maneskin #måneskin interview #my stuff #i'm sorry if someone already translated it but i was working on this for the past 3 hours now so i'm still gonna share it #i know most of it is not very new but there were some quite interesting details in there #and it's just always great to read about those four dorks so i wanted to share it with all of you who wanted to read it but couldn't #enjoy and please ignore any possible mistakes i didn't have the time to proof-check everything

[sunandmoongobrrr]

Korra and her Brutalization: A Legend of Korra Meta

In honor of International Womens’ Day, I want to talk a little bit about Legend of Korra and the treatment of Korra (and to a small extent other women) throughout the show. Content warning: there's some disturbing scenes that I show here, but if you've watched all of LoK, you should be fine.

Korra starts off confident; she is a young avatar who is eager to learn and feels suffocated from the isolation she is kept in from a very young age. But that doesn’t stop her, and like the headstrong girl she is, she moves to Republic City to make a difference and step into her role as the avatar.

Korra immediately starts to doubt herself; she becomes unsure of her abilities and frustrated with herself, and through that she learns to become emotionally vulnerable with Tenzin. To me, this was really great. It showed that you can be confident and vulnerable, and that the two aren’t necessarily independent of each other.

(I’m going to be honest, the 2nd season I didn’t really remember much of, so I’m just going to skip over that. Because what I really want to talk about is season 3.)

In season three, Korra faces the Red Lotus, an “anarchist” group that essentially wants to kill her. And they get pretty close. First, I want to talk about how Tenzin is beaten by the Red Lotus. This has been brought up in Lily Orchard’s (in?)famous LOK video, and while I disagree with her on many many topics of the show, I really think she has a point here. When Tenzin is being brutalized by the Red Lotus, the camera pans away. It is SO painful to see him like this, and the directors know it. It’s TOO painful to see it, so they don’t show you it, and the episode ends before we can see him be defeated.

Contrast that with Korra. They show you every detail of this. And I mean every detail.

It’s disgusting, and they refuse to treat her with any sort of decency or respect like they do Tenzin. It’s almost like they want us to enjoy her torturing. It’s genuinely gross.

People will often refute this by saying “LoK is just a darker show! Look at what they did to the Earth Queen!” And while yes, it is marketed towards an older audience, there’s still no point in brutalizing Korra this way. The main difference between Korra and the Earth Queen is that… well, Korra’s the protagonist. We’re supposed to be rooting for her, and while the Earth Queen being suffocated was definitely dark, it wasn’t unprecedented. The audience was never supposed to like the Earth Queen—she exploited and kidnapped her own people, so of course we wouldn’t care THAT much if she died. But we’ve been with Korra since the beginning. We’re supposed to want her to be happy, and why on earth would we want her to be tortured brutally in such a disgusting way that gives her absolutely no dignity? If we want her to succeed?

(here Zaheer uses the same technique used on the Earth Queen to suffocate here on Korra. for some reason)

In Season 4, the main focus is on Korra and her healing from the brutal things the Red Lotus did to her. She is clearly still struggling, and it could have been another great way to show how being physically strong and confident doesn’t mean you can’t be vulnerable. But they make a lot of bad choices in this season.

One of my main gripes is that in order to heal, she has to return to her abuser, Zaheer, and HE has to teach her how to feel better.

I don’t want to compare LoK to ATLA, although it’s very important to mention that a show that’s a direct sequel, uses its old characters, and banks off of references, should be able to be compared to its predecessor. But I think it’s important to compare Korra’s arc here to Zuko. This doesn’t come out of nowhere; Korra has a lot of similarities to Zuko. The chopping of her hair is a significant turning point in her arc, and there’s an episode called “Korra Alone” (which is clearly a direct callback; shown below).

The difference between Zuko and Katara is that, a. Zuko never had to accept his abuser, and b. Zuko started off as a villain.

One of Zuko’s major points is when he confronts his father—his abuser. He does not bow to him and give in, saying that maybe he had a few good points or his heart was in the right place, but he directly says that Ozai was wrong for what he did. This isn’t the case with Korra. For some reason, Korra has to learn to trust her abuser. The person who did this to her:

And she has to hear him out.

This leads me to my second point, and what’s basically the complaint I have; despite being a protagonist, the show treats Korra like a villain. It frames her torture scenes as if we’re supposed to be excited that she’s being brutalized, as if we’re supposed to think she deserves it. And it’s not even handled properly as one of the villains we know so well—Zuko, who was able to overcome his abuse and become a protagonist who we root for. Again, Zuko and Korra aren’t directly the same characters, but there are parallels between the two and the show encourages their comparison. When it comes to Korra, however, we’re supposed to believe that she deserves everything that comes to her; the brutal scenes and the lack of dignity, even if she is a protagonist.

And in the end, that’s what we’re meant to believe; that Korra deserved what happened to her. In the finale, Korra says, “I finally understand why I had to go through all that. I needed to understand what true suffering was, so I could become more compassionate to others.”

This is, to put it short, ridiculous. I hate this so much I can’t even begin to say how much I hate it. No, Korra did not have to go through the torture she went through. She did not have to go through the mercury poisoning. She did not have to go through every hardship she did. This “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is so harmful because Korra’s healing revolved around accepting her abuser and thanking him for the awful things he did to her. Korra wasn’t even that cocky by the end of the first season, so what it’s essentially indirectly teaching girls is that if you’re confident, you’ll pay. It’s disgusting.

Zuko got a banishment to the Earth Kingdom, got to have his ideas and practices challenged, but he never got physically tortured. I truly, truly believe that one of the main reasons why Korra is quite literally villainized by the show is because she was a confident, brown teenage girl. None of the male characters are treated with such disrespect and we never get told that they need to be “humbled” by abuse.

This is not completely resolved to LoK; there are some aspects in ATLA that I think could’ve been fixed had there been more women in the room. I tag her a lot (bc her metas are awesome), but I really recommend you read @araeph 's Katara: Consumed by Destiny series. I also have a meta here about how Katara is treated in ATLA, specifically in “The Fortuneteller.” (I want to emphasize that while I am anti-Kataang, I don’t believe that Katara’s treatment had to do with the ship itself or that kataang is inherently anti-Katara. It’s just a note about how her character is treated in this episode and beyond.)

I’ve heard a lot of people say that they’re ‘glad’ that LoK didn’t feature Suki or Mai or Ty Lee, because they can’t imagine how poorly they’d be represented. And honestly, I can’t blame them.

This isn’t to say that we need to stop watching LOK or even ATLA. I think the internet has this weird problem where we’ve been told that the way to get rid of problematic media is to just stop consuming anything even remotely problematic altogether. But certain aspects of media will always be relatively problematic, since as content creators we sometimes input our biases into the things we create. The solution, then, is not to banish anyone who puts any harmful stereotypes into their content from society, but to actively and healthily criticize it. Bryke are not God, but they’re also not demons put on the earth to suppress woc. They’re white guys that have implicit biases that have worked their way into the content they produce. I think the lesson learned here, is to have women, especially BIWOC, in writing rooms, to prevent atrocious acts from happening to future Korra's.

Happy International Women’s Day, y’all.

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