#definitely not because i need to put him in a Situation

[emeraldspiral]

So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is it's take on relationship inequality.

Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.

St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.

And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.

But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.

So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.

#jane eyre

[lynzishell]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵

✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖

Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕

-what common/uncommon fear do they have?

💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.

-do they have any pet peeves?

🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas:  Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes?  🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.

-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.

-what do they notice first in a person?

🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.

-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.

-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.  

-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.

-what animal represents them best?

💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.

-what is a smell that they dislike?

💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.

-have they broken any bones? if so, how?

🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.

-how would a stranger likely describe them?

🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.  

-are they a night owl or a morning bird?

🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.

-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.

-do they have any hobbies?

🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.

-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.

-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.

-do they have neat or messy handwriting?

💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.

-what are two emotions they feel the most?

🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.

-do they have a favorite fabric?

💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.

-what kind of accent do they have?

🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.

And I love them too!! 🥹

Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻

#seriously tho #if you read all that i love you forever #and i offer you cookies 🍪🍪🍪 and hugs 🤗🤗🤗 #tag game #oc tag game #atlas stephens #asher goode #aries outtakes

[hongjoongsslvt]

One bite ||Jeong Yunho (MDNI)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho X Fem! Reader (Non-Idol AU)

Warnings: Vampire Reader, Demon/Incubus Jeong Yunho, Deaths mentioned, Mentions of Blood, Strangers to lovers, thats all i can think off.

word count: 1.76k

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

I finally put my headphones down, recognizing that I had streamed for over 6 hours, which was definitely one of my longest streams. Leaving my gaming desk, I dressed in a black overside tee and off-white sweatpants, combined with shoes and a baseball hat. I look at the wall clock that hangs directly next to the front door.

2:13 am. A great time to go prowling around the city looking for some fresh blood.

This is the society in which vampires, demons, angels, and other races live in secrecy alongside humans. So it is inherently difficult to obtain adequate nourishment, especially for vampires, whose primary source is blood. Pacts play an important function in this context.

Pacts ensure that no race exploits other races in need of nourishment.

Vampires can feed on anyone of any race, but a pact-bound vampire can only feed on its pact mate; the blood of any other living thing becomes poisonous.

I wander around town alleys, watching intoxicated folks brawl and lie around with no care in the world. I never fancied alcoholic blood, but I'm not in a position to pick favorites. It's easier to feed off a drunk than a sober individual because there's no screaming or running away.

I take a turn down the dimly lit alley, looking around for individuals or surveillance cameras. None. I proceed a few meters forward and notice a strong stench of blood. The sweetest smell I have ever encountered in my decades of life.

I see two bloodied bodies: one tall, well-toned, and the other unidentifiable and clearly dead.

"Hey, "Are you Okay?" I ask the tall, toned man.

No response.

I let out a heavy sigh as I shred the linen at his thighs, sinking my teeth in, soaking up the wonderful blood and injecting a small quantity of my fluid.

Yes, vampires can inject fluid into the region to heal the bite mark and remove the evidence. While pure-blooded vampires can heal anyone, human or vampire, as long as they are alive, the other vampires can only heal less sever wounds, the bite wounds.

I cease feeding off of him, feeling full and satisfied, and wait for the fluid to work its job. I plopped him over my shoulder and walked discreetly back home, avoiding congested areas to avoid raising suspicions.

Placing him on the couch, I prepare the water for the bath while keeping an eye on him. It wasn't the finest idea to drag an injured stranger into my home, but the sweet, addictive taste of his blood overruled my reasonable reasoning. Well, if he is good and keeps his mouth shut, it will be a win-win situation for both; otherwise, what a waste of such sweet tasting blood.

I was quickly brought out of my thoughts as I heard the person groan and wake awake.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" I inquired, studying his pale skinned face, which has the nicest but most gorgeous features. What a lucky find.

"Who are you?" the man asked, standing up, his body towering over mine.

"You first, because I am the one who saved you," I answered, looking straight into his eyes. His frightening atmosphere may have worked on others, but not on me.

"I am Jung Yunho," the man said, reclining back on the couch. "Is that enough?"

"Come on, I know that you are definitely not human" I say, checking if he takes the bait, "You gotta be careful, that body is almost unrecognizable"

Despite his calm demeanor, his face was filled with misery and hatred, and he spoke with a heavy sigh.

"I am a demon, An incubus to be precise, that body has brutally murdered my foster family"

"Rest easy, I made sure not to leave evidence" I remarked, setting down a pair of clothes and a towel, "Go get a bath, you are dirty, and I hate messy stuff in my room"

He nods quietly and enters the bathroom, while I clean the couch and vacuum the house.

3:44 am.

I plop down on the couch, searching through websites to update my book collection with new releases.

"I never thought your clothes would be almost perfect fit, how tall are you?" He asks, drying his hair with a towel.

Now that I can see clearly, this man is one of the most stunning people I've ever met, with breathtakingly beautiful body proportions and an ethereal face. I hurriedly return my gaze to the screen, hoping not to be caught salivating over his appearance.

"Probably 180 or 182 cm, so yeah, i am shorter than you by mere centimeters"

"So, since you knew my identity, its only fair to tell yours"

"I am Y/N, a Vampire, purebred," I add as I pay for the books I've opted to read. "Well known to people by the name Lynn, the streamer"

"YOU ARE THAT STREAMER??" Yunho shrieked, almost deafening my hearing; his eyes were filled with joy as he plopped right next to me on the couch, unwittingly releasing his tail and horns.

"You have no idea! I'VE BEEN A FAN OF YOURS FOR A LONG TIME," he said, going into detail about my previous streaming aliases and so on.

"Easy now boy, Put those horns and tail away" I say while asnwering his never ending questions.

----------------------------------------------------

I normally stream for 20 to 25 years before taking a break and starting again under a different identity so that people don't have suspicions about my race. However, it is only effective against humans, who have significantly shorter lifespans.

"I have a deal, Since you have no where to go, you can stay here, but in return, let me feed on your blood" I' proposed.

"You do realize that biting an incubus is equivalent to forming a pact?" He questioned back. "You have no choice but to feed only on me and same is the case with me"

I really screwed up; I forgot that feeding off a demon is basically forging a pact, now I am at the mercy of this Incubus.

------------------------------------

The days passed pleasantly; I did my daily streaming, with Yunho occasionally joining in and playing with me. Well, thanks to him, more specifically for his honey sweet voice, which brought in more subscribers and hence more money.

Once a stranger, he now assists me with my daily activities and keeps the room clean. Despite being told that his voice and game play alone are enough to cover his living expenses, he persists on doing it nevertheless.

It's adorable to see him play with his Spider-Man-themed game station and his toy collection; the once-empty guest bedroom has become his land. I look around the house, only to realize that it no longer reflects my tastes, but rather 'our tastes'.

Yunho, the more I got to know him, the more perfect he appeared to be. He took sure to keep his blood in blood packs in case he had to go outside for longer than intended, brought back plushies or anything with phrases like "This looks like you" or "This reminds me of you." My life suddenly feels really lively, and I'm wondering how I've managed to remain alone for so long.

and by the time I realized, i fell for him. My first love.

------------------------------------------------------

One thing I've noticed about Yunho recently is that he's becoming paler by the day and spending most of his time curled up on his bed, and I haven't fed off of him in a long time. Unlike humans, I don't have to worry about a demon fainting or dying from blood loss, so I'd feed on him heavily at first and then stop until my desire returned.

"Yu, you gotta tell me what's wrong, I can't figure anything out unless you say so," I plead as I sat next his curled up figure on the bed.

"Its nothing, I am just having a little trouble, call mingi over and ask him to bring some meds yeah?" He whispered and shooed me off his room.

That's not it. I have to know what's wrong with him

I picked up the phone and instantly dialed Mingi's number.

"Dude, since you are the same kind as Yunho, tell me what's wrong with him" I said. "I know he spoke about his illness with you"

"Did you ask when was the last time he fed?" He inquired

Oh, the wheels in my brain started turning.

"Well he need to because the fluid provided by vampire is kind of like food to us incubus to live , but what we really need to stay healthy and replenish our powers is of course, sex" Mingi says.

"I'll call you back later," I quickly cut the call off.

"I have been feeding on him all this time and forgot that he needs to feed as well," I mentally slap myself before returning to Yunho's room.

"Yu, I have to feed off you," I add, to which he agrees and lies on his back, raising his wrist. "Do it"

I take his hand, but instead of biting my teeth into his wrist, I grasp both of his hands and straddle him. Yunho instantly stiffens and stares at me, puzzled.

"I really appreciate that you are trying to get me to feed off you, but Y/N, I want to do this with love, I dont want to just have sex for feeding, I dont want to impose on you and make you uncomfortable, I am fine with just your fluid" He looks at me with tears in his eyes.

"I love you Y/N, I genuinely do, I don't want to impose on you, you were there for me when I thought it was the end for me, and as time sped by, I got to see a lot of you. The streamer, the clumsy girl, the tech nerd, the loving one, Of course, you don't have to receive-"

I closed his mouth by kissing him. His lips felt unbelievably soft and full, and hot breath swept across my cheeks. It was a quick kiss, but long enough to let him know the feelings were reciprocal.

"I love you too, Yunho; only after meeting you did I realize that having a pact is a blessing, not a shackle; all of my lonely days are now replaced with joy and laughter; it's as if I've found everything I've ever hoped for in my life. You put life back into my spirit.

I grind my hips against him, leaning onto his body, unable to surpass the sweet whimpers.

"Yu, please~"

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

REBLOGGING IS MUCH APPRECIATED ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

DO NOT PLAGIARISE

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #atz #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x female reader #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x atiny #yunho imagines #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #yunho hard thoughts #ateez drabbles

[funnywormz]

I think this shitshow with Toshiro stems from the trend of people INSISTING that interpersonal conflict must be a moral failing. Like I think there's something to be said about how people afford so much less patience to people who are autistic in the "wrong" ways, but also Laios and Toshiro just clash on a fundamental level that has nothing to do with that. Hell, you could read Toshiro as autistic as well. People related to Laios' side of the argument but instead of getting any nuance out of it they started projecting their experiences with ableist people onto Toshiro.

AGREE AGREE AGREE. i think that Fandom Brain gets people very used to thinking of conflicts in terms of "who is the bad guy and who is the good guy", so when they encounter a more nuanced conflict they don't really know what to do. i don't think toshiro is a bad person at all, in his conflict with laios he's just exhausted and starving and has been pushed to the limit and from his perspective, laios doesn't even seem that emotionally affected by the situation. i don't think what he said was right and it was pretty cruel, but i don't think he's a villain or deserves to be permanently hated as a character just bc he fucked up this time lol

also yeah you could definitely read him as autistic, and i think that highlights an issue in the autistic community in general bc like....... a lot of autistic people have conflicting needs which can lead to conflict between them/make them unable to stand being around each other. and it's not because either of them are neurotypical or bad people, they're just incompatible. like autistic people who loudly stim vocally and autistic people who meltdown when they have to be around loud noises, for example. it doesn't mean either of them is bad or not autistic, just that they have conflicting needs

i 100% agree with the last part too. i disliked toshiro at first myself bc i had been (and still do ngl) projecting onto laios hard and the conflict they had reminded me of times when people have been mean or angry at me irl for social blunders i've made unintentionally, or when someone i thought liked me/was my friend turned out to actually hate me. it's a common experience for autistic people and that scene resonates with that! but i think it also helps to take a step back from projecting our own traumatic experiences onto the scene and just look at it objectively. laios isn't perfect either and he's the one who actually starts the physical fight by slapping toshiro (i feel like i don't see many people mention this lol). i feel super bad for him in that scene but he's not a perfect victim and has done things wrong himself too

as an autistic person i've also been in situations where i can relate to toshiro too lol, like where someone is overly physically and emotionally familiar with me when we don't know each other well and i've wanted them to back off but haven't been sure how to say it without hurting their feelings. this kind of conflict is far from just being a "neurotypical vs neurodivergent" thing as a lot of people portray it in the fandom

idk i just wish people would think a little more deeply about the scene and put their own emotions and experiences aside to instead consider the conflict with the added context of the individual characters and their respective cultures + the situation they're in. people don't have to like toshiro but i wish they wouldn't paint him as a villain or make up awful shit about him just to justify their feelings when he isn't even that bad of a dude in canon yknow 😑. also we literally see him at rock bottom struggling and freaking out and i think that's important to remember. in a different context i doubt he would have ever said those things to laios

#dungeon meshi #laios touden #toshiro nakamoto #ask #tysm for the ask btw!

[petit-papillion]

It might be me but lately all videos I’ve seen of Charles he’s basically getting mobbed. Maybe it was always like this but it seems extreme. The other day Alexandra walked away from the cafe on her own and Charles picked her up from the side of the road a bit away from the cafe because the cafe/car was once again completely surrounded by people. I hope he starts either taking a bodyguard around or just stops stopping so much for people because the constant mobbing seems terrible

No, it's definitely not always been like this. And I think that especially in Monaco there has been an increase in fan presence, with last year people absolutely crossing the line by harassing him at his home. From an interview with Monaco-matin last May:

Now granted, when he goes to lunch with Alex and Leo at what is basically a tourist attraction and sits out on the terrace for the world to see, he should expect there to be a crowd. Not condoning people crowding him the way they do, but he should know beforehand this will not be an easy in and out.

The same goes for when he is in Maranello, especially when Charles himself has said that's where he will be, you can expect there to be fans outside the factory.

In some hotels it's been getting extreme (I can't quite recall whether it was last year or the year before in Mexico or Brazil that it got quite crazy already), but I think that also is a matter of the hotels needing to manage this better. In Montreal there are a lot of fans, but they have them outside, with barriers, so the drivers can go up to them and sign in peace (or go straight in if they're tired). Versus what we just saw in Shanghai where Charles was driven to the point where he batted away someone shoving a mini helmet in his face to get signed. I've NEVER seen him do something like that before. And he should just not be put in the position where he is being mobbed like that in a hotel lobby.

So yes, while some of these situations could be resolved by hotels being better prepared, Charles could also do with a bodyguard. Or at the very least, ask the fans to leave him alone at certain times, like when he's having dinner in Monaco. I think he may be reluctant to do the latter, because he does go to a lot of promotional events as well, and then he wants to be seen/photographed for his personal brand and/or a sponsor. Plus let's face it: he also loves all the attention, knows it won't last forever, and never forgets how much it means to fans to meet him or get his autograph/selfie.

#personally i would love for him to get a massive human for a bodyguard #and then have charles give leo to him #while he signs autographs #i'd pay to see a big bulky man twice the size of charles #holding leo in one hand and protecting charles from pushy fans with the other #seriously though #i do think it's getting a little hairy for charlea at times #and it only takes accidentally ticking off an onsessive fan once #for something awful to potentially happen to him #not something anyone wants to think about #but he should seriously get protection at this point #charles leclerc #about charles and fame #anon ask

[riri-twix]

Can We Become We?

Chapter 2: Just an Arrangement

Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.

The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?

She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter

You can also read it on ao3 here

Satoru was leaning back onto the couch, a foot over his knee, and an arm slung around the back. He looked relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, there was a knot in his stomach, only growing tighter by the second.

His expression is blank, turning his head left, then right, then left again, as he follows his father. The man has been pacing back and forth in the living room with quick, determined steps for the past five minutes. It was almost like being caught up in a tennis match, Satoru thought.

“Twenty minutes!” His father grits out, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles to keep his anger under control. “They said they’d arrive in twenty minutes!”

And it’s only been twenty-one. Satoru rolls his eyes and sinks further into the couch. His dad was always on a rush in every situation, always trying to control everything and everyone in his life.

This is just a dinner, for crying out loud. Satoru throws his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his father's bitching about everything. He needs learn how to relax.

“You should stop stressing, baby.” Came the voice of his mother. He was almost certain that she didn’t even look up from her phone as she said that. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Oh?” There was a smirk to his father’s tone. “Then what is?”

“Hmm?” Okay, now his mother definitely put down her phone. “I have a few ideas. Maybe… I can try them out…”

Eww. If Satoru could roll his eyes while they were closed, he would’ve done it a million times. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud gag, taking the liberty to even stick his tongue out for better efficiency. An opportunity to piss off his parents? He’ll take it.

“Satoru.” He could almost feel the glare his father sent his way.

“Yes?” A smirk plays on his lips, satisfied that he was able to get on his father’s nerves. “You know, you could just get a room. Then you won’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

Before his father could throw a shoe or the closest object at Satoru’s head, a number of footsteps walks into the room.

“Sir.” Satoru’s eyes peel open when he hears the smooth, even voice of their butler addressing his father. “The Geto family is here.”

Satoru feels his body freeze, a wave of uneasiness washes over him, churning over and over in his stomach as the retreating footsteps of the butler fade away. The steady beating of his heart grows louder in his ears.

The whole point of this gathering was for him and his… fiancés? To meet before tomorrow’s public wedding. He knew that. So why was he feeling so nervous? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the more he tries to focus on his breathing, the more he feels the tension rising inside of him.

“You must be Suguru.” The words come out of his father's mouth like clockwork, a well-rehearsed tone that Satoru has heard so many times before. Used for formalities, always accompanied with a jarring, toothy smile. Fake as shit.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.”

Satoru can’t, and for the most part, doesn’t, stop himself from lifting his head the moment that soft voice fills his ears. His eyes automatically land on Suguru, who had his head bowed politely at his father, before straightening up again, a friendly smile on his face.

His face immediately contorts in distaste. Because what the hell’s up with those bangs? And also because he doesn’t know what else to do. He exhales a scoff through his nose and throws his head back again, silently hoping that no one noticed the way his face grew hot.

He didn’t want to look at him anyway. And he definitely did not, in any way, want to look at the way Suguru’s shoulders and chest complimented him so perfectly in that light button up, tucked in neatly under those deep blue pants-

ThE pLeASurE iS mine, SiR. He mocks in his head, interrupting those unwarranted thoughts. Pathetic. He was probably just like every other person who meets his father. None of them give a shit about how stingy or ruthless he is, just interested in the money and power that came from being connected to him.

Suguru didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the automatic sliding gate of the big, no, ginormous Gojo estate. He’s only ever seen places like these from the outside. The air inside was heavy with the smell of leather and rich mahogany, a far cry from the familiar scent of his own home.

It didn’t fit with him. He didn’t belong here.

He hadn't spoken a word to his parents since they told him the news, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. His appetite had faded so much that he could hardly bring himself to eat. He spent the last two nights tossing and turning, his mind plagued by his own thoughts of what was going to happen.

Still, he thought, none of that was a good enough reason not to make himself look presentable. If there was one thing that Suguru couldn’t do, it was being rude enough to show up as a guest without attempting to look decent.

And now, Suguru's heart raced as he stood before Satoru's father, feeling as if the older man was staring directly into his soul. He tried to keep his emotions in check, leaving the smile on his face as he fought the urge to flee.

His eyes flicker briefly over the older man’s shoulder, falling onto the exposed throat of the man he was to marry, his head flopped back over the couch.

His gaze quickly returns back onto Satoru’s father when he realises that its rude not to focus his attention. He takes a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't seem too nervous as he clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.

“I apologise for being late.” He offers, stepping to the side to introduce his parents. “This is my father, and my mother.”

His parents step up, both giving a small, polite bow, introducing themselves as they did. 

But Suguru can’t focus on the words, his curiosity distracting him from the conversation taking place in front of him. He leans slightly to the side, trying to get another peek at Satoru. He wonders what’s going on through his mind, but the sight of his expressionless face makes it hard to tell. But one thing was clear. Satoru wasn’t happy.

Suguru opted to furrow his eyebrows instead of rolling his eyes. Because of course the prodigal son wouldn’t be happy about marrying some no body whose family owns nothing but a farm. Suguru almost scoffed out loud. Used to own nothing but a farm. Now they had nothing.

Suguru was nothing. And compared to Satoru, he might as well cease to exist. No doubt, Satoru hated his guts, all because his parents were petty enough to sell him off.

If he were Satoru, he would’ve hated himself too.

“Please, don’t wait for an invitation.” Suguru looks back to Satoru’s father, who now had an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist beside him. When did she get there? The older man gestures towards the cream-coloured velvet couch. “Please take a seat.”

His parents don’t need to be told twice, quickly scampering towards the seat with small ‘thank you’.

“Satoru, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. Sit properly in front of our guests.”

Suguru watches in silence as Satoru's father scolds him, before his feet finally start moving. He makes his way to the opposite end of the couch Satoru was on. The white-haired man sighed, long and loud, before straightening his posture. He doesn’t even glance once in Suguru’s direction.

Suguru suddenly feels insulted. Sure, he gets it in a way, that this wasn’t Satoru’s choice and all, but he didn’t get much of a choice either. Did he think himself all high and mighty that much? And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses indoors?

Suguru swallows his pride. Breath in. Smile.

He doesn’t know why he was taking Satoru’s bullshit personally. It’s not like they were in this whole thing for love. The least he could do is tolerate. Maybe, he thinks, hopefully, he silently prays, you’re not going to be an asshole as much as Satoru. Then at least it will be easier for him.

“This way, please.” The voice of the butler who had just recently escorted him and his family, catches Suguru’s attention.

“Ah finally.” Satoru’s father sighs, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. “Our bride is here.”

You and your parents were the last to arrive at the Gojo estate. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to meet your ‘soon-to-be husbands’ or their parents. It doesn’t matter what your parents say, or how childish it is, you’re going to frown through this entire gathering.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Because your jaw dropped open in awe the moment you were let in through the gates.

The house, if you could even call it that, was big, huge in fact. So large that you imagine you could fit your entire home five times over, and still have room to spare. It wasn’t surprising, considering that the Gojo family was well known for their wealth.

By the double front doors, you were greeted by an old, but not that old looking man. Your eyes trail from his face down to his clothes, taking in the formal black suit and small bow, and you realise he must be the butler – they even had a butler.

He guides you in, leading you down the hall into a large room that looked a bit too formal to be called a living room, where you find yourself standing before a six-person audience. All heads turned to you.

After a quick scan of everyone’s faces, your eyes fall onto Satoru. He looks at you with hard, judging eyes, his expression impenetrable behind the sunglasses that cover them.

You can't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to his father - the imposing figure seated on the opposite couch - with his white hair and angular jawline. His full lips and sharp nose, on the other hand, seem to be a hallmark of his mother's features.

Your gaze then shifts to Suguru, who looks at you with a curious gaze. His striking beauty is almost otherworldly, with peaceful, cat-like eyes and a delicate jawline. A gentle masculinity softened so slightly by feminine features.

He's the type of gorgeous that you can't look away from, and you feel yourself drawn to him, almost instinctively.

Both of them, Satoru and Suguru weren’t the creepy old men you were dreading they’d be - thank God. And although they seemed like complete opposites, were equally handsome.

And just like that, the frown that has long since left your face, decides to make a re-entrance. Because what the hell? You were against this whole thing. You were forced into it, expected to go along with it like it's some kind of game. You can’t be thinking like that about the men who didn’t even choose you.

“Well? What are you waiting for, dear?” Satoru’s mother smiles too tightly, her tone way too sweet. “Come and have a seat. Make yourself at home.”

No introduction where needed, because apparently your parents had already met the Gojo’s before during business. Like this is any different.

While there was plenty of free space, it almost seemed like she was being overly obvious for you to take the seat between Satoru and Suguru. So you do. But you make sure to leave a comfortable distance on either side. You suppress the urge to run your fingers over the velvet.

“Aren’t you all just so cute?” Satoru’s mother coos, pulling out her phone. A flash of white momentarily blinds you. “This is going to be perfect for my page.” She beams at her screen.

“Why don’t we all head over to the dining room?” Satoru’s father suddenly suggests. “Let’s give the kids some alone time to get to know each other.”

Your parents all voice their agreements, following Satoru’s mother as she leads them out of the main hall. But Satoru’s father stays behind. Something feels off. He doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity, and you start to wonder if he is ever going to speak.

Satoru wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands. He knew that this was just the way his father was before starting one of his ‘I am too important for this world’ speeches.

“Listen closely.” Satoru’s father starts, his tone low and calm, yet there’s a hint of warning in it. It reminds you of how Vito Corleone talks in the Godfather, just without the Italian accent. “My family’s reputation,” Satoru lets out a groan at that, rolling his eyes dramatically as his father continued to talk. “And my reputation. They are very important to me.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit intimidated.

“I’m pretty sure they know that, dad.” Satoru grits out, huffing and turning his cheek to the side. “Who doesn’t?”

“Precisely.” His father arches one of his snow-white eyebrows. “Tomorrow is your wedding-”

“Pretty sure they know that too-” Satoru cuts in, earning himself a pointed glare, but he doesn’t give two shits. It kind of makes you feel a bit better, the way Satoru was being so nonchalant.

“And many important people will attend, including the Gojo family elders.” His father goes on. “You three, and I mean you two in particular,” He uses two fingers to points at you and Satoru, “would do well to know what you’re dealing with now. Fix those attitudes.”

A pang of irritation spikes up. Is he the one to talk about attitudes? Because you could list down a number of things he needs to fix. The first one being to find himself a therapist.

“I don’t want the elders talking badly about us. They are in charge of all our affairs and if they sense any problems, it won’t be good.” Satoru’s father huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “You look like you’re going to be attending a funeral rather than your own wedding!”

And just like that, Satoru snaps.

“Why do they care?!” His voice was loud and filled with venom. “Why the fuck, do they give so much shits about our lives?!”

“Because our family name is one of the most influential throughout all of Japan!” His father spits right back. “And I will NOT have you taint it!”

Your muscles were tense the entire time, heart caught up in your throat at the rising tension. Satoru doesn’t respond, and his father suddenly turns around, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.

“I don’t care how much you hate it.” He says, calmly. It was as if the yelling that happened seconds ago never existed. He flashes a smile over his shoulder, that almost made you believe it was real. “Act like you want this. You understand?”

And with that, he leaves.

Your eyes dart over to Satoru. His hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was gritting his teeth, the gaze of his sunglasses planted firmly on a spot on the floor. You instantly felt a pang of sympathy at the unfair treatment he got. Did this happen to him all the time?

A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you also know that getting involved might only make the situation worse.

Satoru finally speaks, his voice sneering. "Listen, I'm telling you from now.” He says, “I don't care why you're here or what you want from my father and this family, but this” He gestures sharply towards the three of you. "Will never be anything more than an act. You won't stick your noses into my life, and I won't stick mine into yours. I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it."

Despite the harsh tone in those words, you felt a wave of relief wash over you for some reason. That didn’t sound all that bad. It hits you that maybe, just maybe you could do that. You can go through the motions without having to actually share any part of your life with them. Shoko and the girls might not need to crash the wedding after all…

“I don’t have any disagreements.” Suguru voiced out, lifting the remaining weight off your chest. No one was opposed to this.

“Me either.”

The person staring back at you in the mirror was… beautiful. You didn’t know you could even look like this.

The light grey wedding dress had a beautiful flowing skirt, draping down to the floor and swirling around your legs as you move. The delicate fabric is a perfect silhouette that falls on you, hugging your body at the waist where a white, silk obi belt is tied in a lovely bow. Several silver outlines of betta fish were adorned the belt, each one catching the light in just the right way.

“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Came the hushed whisper of the maid doing the finishing touches.

I know, you wanted to say. But the words catch in your throat. It would probably sound rude, even though you could see yourself as clear as day. “Thank you.” You replied instead.

A light knock came from the door. And with it, the beating of your heart only grew louder.

It was time.

A young lady guided you down a wide hallway, fixing and adjusting the back of your dress as you walked, until you reached the opening of a large, opulent lobby, where your father was waiting for you.

He linked arms with you, smiling warmly at you. There was a look of affection filled in his gaze. “I remember the way I used to carry you on my shoulders like it was yesterday.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “I can’t even carry you anymore.” Words that did nothing to suppress the loathing for him that started days ago.

You don’t say anything, just nodding and turning your head slightly to the side. You didn’t want to start crying, and you didn’t want to forgive him for this either. And with that, he walks you through the double doors.

The buzzing chatter that had filled every corner in the room, suddenly went silent, and all heads turned to you. The whole lobby was filled with large, round tables, every single chair occupied. You silently questioned if the Gojo family had invited the entire population of Japan here.

Your eyes finally settle directly ahead, and there, standing at the end of the aisle, you see them. Satoru and Suguru.

Satoru was wearing a pure, white kimono underneath a white haori jacket. His hakama pants were a baby blue. As for Suguru, he was dressing in the exact same outfit, except it was darker. His kimono and haori jacket were both black, while his pants were a dark grey.

As if their hair wasn’t already enough of a difference.

You’ve been to a couple of weddings before, you’ve seen the way the groom would look at the bride with a love only told from fairytales, or the way the bride can’t stop the smile from forming on her face. Both of them showing nothing but pure happiness.

Chin up. Smile. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards, grinning as best as you could.

But, even with the way Satoru’s face was lit up with a grin that made his face look even more boyish than before, and even with Suguru’s eyes closed into upside down crescents. Anyone could believe it was real, but you knew. There wasn’t a single trace of real happiness on their faces.

You heart started to beat heavily in your ears. Focus on getting one foot in front of the other. Each time you took a step, it was in sync with the pounding in your chest.

Step.

Step.

Step.

All eyes were on you, wide and unblinking, you could see their mouths moving, sharing whispers. But you couldn’t hear anything. Only the inhale and exhale through your teeth, your eyes set on both the white fluffy hair, flowing freely, and the dark strands that were tied into a perfect bun.

You swallow thickly as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your stomach churned over itself, then over again like a tidal wave washing onto the beach. Sick. You were going to be sick.

You don’t even remember when your father had left your side, waving you in the middle of the two men. You keep your head straight ahead at the priest, unwilling to look at neither Satoru nor Suguru.

Something catches your eye. A small detail you couldn’t have noticed from afar. Satoru’s haori. It was embroidered with light blue outlines of betta fish. And Suguru’s too. All over it, outlined in a magnificent purple. Just like his eyes.

You wonder who chose this specific fish-

“Y/n?” The priest snapped you out of your thoughts.

You blink. Was it your turn already?

“Opps, sorry.” You let out a nervous chuckle, and straightened yourself. “With this ring and binding, I promise to be there for you both, day or night, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” You recited your practiced vow with a beaming smile, looking up at Suguru, then to Satoru.

You watch as Satoru reaches for the ring, a small smirk on his face as he takes your hand and slides the band onto your finger in a smooth and effortless motion. You felt a tingle at his touch, but you pushed it away as he released you.

Suguru follows, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto Satoru's finger, his smile bright and warm as he turns to you with a sense of excitement. He almost makes you feel like this whole exchange was natural.

You were next. You breathe in, your hand trembling ever so slightly as you reach out for the ring. Taking Suguru’s hand, you place the golden band on his finger, marking the official completion of the ceremony.

The audience bursts into a round of cheers and applause, filling your ears like distant echoes.

That’s it. It was done. You were now tied to them, and they to you.

chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)

taglist: @keira80808

#satosugu x reader #poly satosugu #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satosugu #satoru x reader #satoru x suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #suguru angst #geto suguru #getou suguru x you #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #ao3 #multiple chapter series

[spacerockfloater]

You know what?

I get it, ok? I understand the concept of Rhysand being a morally grey character. I understand that SJM wanted him to be an anti-hero of sorts. I would be totally okay with him doing everything that he did and standing by his actions if he simply said “The only thing that concerns me is myself, my circle and my people. I’m here to protect my interests first and everything else second. I am no hero, I am just someone who puts himself and his sphere first. I am a selfish person and I’m totally okay with that. I do not need anyone’s approval.” I still wouldn’t be his biggest fan, because I do not tend to admire self serving people, but I would totally understand him. In fact, I might have done the same thing. I guess you can never know for sure what your reaction to something would be unless you actually end up in that situation. I get that the average person would protect themselves (themselves = them and their loved ones) but I do believe that admiration should be saved for people who go against the norm. People who actually put their foot down, say no, protest, fight back, risk their lives, experience loss for a greater good. That’s why I admire Khalias, Tarquin, Helion, Tamlin etc. Because they stood up to Amarantha while knowing the consequences of their actions. I wouldn’t admire Rhysand, but I’d support him if he just owned up to his shit and said “Yup, I’m your average person, I don’t care if I come off as the bad guy!”.

But he does not! He wants everyone to applaud him and thank him and feel like they owe him and appreciate him and and and and… Jesus Christ man, you did the bare minimum and you did it all when you had nothing to lose! Thank you so much that you convinced that frigid bitch to murder two dozens of children instead of me and my family, of course I am now forever in your debt! Relax. You were able to talk Amarantha out of directly harming the other High Lords only after you harmed others to gain her favour and you saved the High Lords only because it served you better to keep them alive instead of some irrelevant children fae. I’m sure that your people should be thanking you because you did it all for them after all, but count me the fuck out of it.

Last but not least: ACOTAR Feyre was, obviously, a hero. She was a morally good character. She sacrificed herself for people she didn’t even know. I’m not gonna debate that. I actually loved her in the first book. However, I think she went through a drastic change after her metamorphosis. Her “human heart” is actually no longer human to say the least. I’m not even gonna elaborate on how she became this cruel, unforgiving person that only cared about how people treated her, or how disrespectful she is towards other people like Tarquin because Rhysand made her feel entitled to do so, or how she is responsible for the destruction of two courts that simply seemed like collateral damage if it meant that she would get her revenge on Tamlin. I’m simply going to say that logically speaking, since Feyre stands 100% besides Rhys and everything he did and supports him, she’s also a morally grey person AT BEST, though I do tend to think of both of them as villains because after all, the very definition of a villain is “someone defined by their acts of selfishness, evilness, arrogance, cruelty, and cunning” and like, come on, this screams Feysand.

The term morally grey is so overused. Someone who’s selfish and cunning and cares mostly about themselves is, at least partially, a bad person. A morally grey character is at least half a villain. When did we actually start to equate anti heros with heros?

#acotar critical #acotar #sjm critical #anti rhysand #anti feyre archeron #anti feyre #anti feysand

[cinamun]

Finally Mercy!! It’s like I knew she was going to do it once the bomb dropped about Jackson and she was still there with him but seeing actually happen is wild and I had to go back like 10x. All I really have to say is hurt people hurt people and Bishop should’ve took the warning after the tv threat cuz maybe she wasn’t joking. Should’ve definitely left after the first assassination attempt. He thought he could still get in her head even after finding out her secret and well…she got in his chest. It’s crazy to think all that time she was allowing herself to go through all that as a punishment when she had it in her all along but it took Jayce finding out about Eva to make her remember why she did it. I can’t wait to see how Mercy continues to develop after this. And there’s still so many other situations to check in on still! Way to wrap up a story arch we’ve all be waiting for while still keeping us on the edge of our seats for a new one to begin! Your writing and directing is phenomenal. I’ve been here since Indya was pregnant with Hope and I always say this needs to be a show or a physical visual novel!

Side note: do you ever get nervous or anxious about publish big scenes that you’re unsure how it’ll be recieved? Or excited to publish scenes like this where you know it’ll blow the rrr doors open? This had to be hard to sit on for two weeks!

"He thought he could still get in her head even after finding out her secret and well…she got in his chest."

Say it again for the villians in the back!!!

Listen, she gave him 3 whole opportunities to do what he said he was going to do, which was take her home:

Maybe he was feeling himself a lil bit after putting the math together. Who knows, but what I do know, is that's exactly where he fucked up. He left her without a choice. At least, he left her FEELING like she didn't have a choice.

Anyway, THANK YOU for the kind words friend. Yes I was super nervous about this and didn't finish the dialogue until this morning tbh lol I also get excited because I absolutely LOVE the suspense and psychological shit that fucks with our perception of reality. Writing this arc has been super fun and we're STILL not done. I would say what makes me nervous is the subject matter. Anytime we get into heavy subjects I worry about triggering folks or losing folks. I try to be mindful of that but I also just write what comes to mind and hate to censor myself even when I think of wild shit.

#story stuff #you have the best takes friend!! #THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU #what a ride!

[sturniolo-rat]

✨Chris Sturniolo Headcanons✨

For Black Girls✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

💋 Chris loves black girls

I’m sorry but in my head Chris prefers black girls. Like Atlanta Georgia black girls… thick, dark, dressed to the nines, hair done, acrylic nails 💅🏽💅🏾💅🏿absolute fucking queens. Like I don’t describe Y/N in any way but best believe if it’s a Chris fic she’s black to me.

💋 He sees fucking hates racists

This doesn’t actually need to be said but I figured We’d get this out of the way first. Chris definitely listens to you when you talk about race issues so he knows all about micro aggressions. He always notices them and stands up for you every time. “Baby, if anyone says that shit to you again I’m gonna catch an assault charge!”

💋 He owns silk sheets

This man most definitely would buy a full set of silk sheets after you sleep over his house for the first time and he notices you brought your own satin/silk pillowcase. He doesn’t realize it’s for your hair until he surprises you with them the next time you sleep over and you tell him. “Oh, I just thought you were being bougie.” Then he buys more sets of them because he decides to throw away all his cotton sheets.

💋 He learns your hair care routine

Chris is the only white person you trust to touch your hair. He makes taking care of your hair into a really loving and intimate experience. If you’re in the bath he adds epsom salts, sets up candles, and does a bunch of stuff to set the mood. “You have any music requests, Mama? If not I’m probably just gonna put on the sexy time playlist.” He sits out side of the bath and takes his time washing and conditioning your hair making sure to detangle and section it the way you taught him. He does the same thing when you’re in the shower except he stops occasionally to pull you close and feel you up. “Come here, Baby. You’re so fuckin’ pretty and you smell so nice and clean. I just can’t resist.”

💋 He sits with you when you’re getting your hair braided and brings you snacks

Before your appointment he packs you a lunch bag full of snacks for the both of you because of course he’s coming with you. “Alright, Baby, we’ve got Doritos, McDonald’s chicken nuggets, and a shit ton of candy. We’re all set to go.” If you think he’s not gonna come when you’re gonna be in the chair unable to get away from his yapping you are sorely mistaken. He’s always keeping everyone entertained and happy. “What’s up ladies! You have any tea for me today.” It’s just him feeding you snacks and having silly conversations with you and the person doing your hair. If you ever show up to your appointment without him everyone misses him.

💋 He pays for your acrylics

He insists on giving you the money every two weeks because he’s just “helping to keep his princess feeling pretty” He also likes to help you figure out designs and themes nails. He sends you random texts with nail inspo all the time. “I know a zoo theme seems extra, but let me cook, Mama!” I’m certain that he makes you get a C for Chris on one of your nails every time you get new set. This probably isn’t exclusive to black girls but like as a black person who gets their nails done I like to go all out on the designs and shit gets expensive.

💋 You convince him to wear a durag

He only agrees to do it one time in the house. You use the situation to teach him its use and significance in black hair care. It takes him a few tries and you have to demonstrate it a lot but eventually he is able to put it on correctly and he looks super cute. Not cute in a “this is a good look for you” kind of way, but in an aww “the little white boy is engaging in cultural appreciation” type of way. “I think if anyone saw me like this I would get cancelled.”

Taglist

Masterlist

Idk if people put their tag lists on headcanon posts??? Pls advise

@daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @rafecameronsbitch @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @chrattstromboli @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets x reader

[regretevator-confessions]

the fandom needs to be more mindful of what they say to people (very much focusing on artists and cosplayers) and how it comes across. as an artist, ive experienced weird and disgusting comments towards the regretevator characters ive drawn, and ive seen even worse things being said to cosplayers. there have been situations where i am 100% confident that the cosplayer does not know the person making uncomfortable comments and innuendoes just because they felt like it.

there are a lot of issues with the fandom that could be fixed if yeucc and other creators just gave the characters canon ages, or even just age ranges. i get things like shipping wars are gonna be in all fandoms no matter what, especially in fandoms that are as new as regretevator, but the whole “ageless but adults” thing is just really weird. i get that putting ages wont completely stop what im referring to in specific, but it will definitely get the fandom to enforce at least something if somebody were to be weird about a character whos age starts with a 1.

pest’s character shouldve had more thought put into it. there are a lot of different ways to represent aspd, and i feel like he was created using the little pop-up you get on google that shows you “symptoms and treatments”. there were better ways to go about it. i find it so bad that i prefer some fandom interpretations rather than the canon personality. i know people irl who have aspd, and they are absolutely nowhere close to being similar to pest other than sharing the disorder. while i dont mind his personality in the slightest, i think it would’ve been a lot better to not give him aspd. it might give people the wrong idea and make them generalize the disorder.

the wiki page somehow manages to be the best sources of information on these characters. ive used the wiki so many times that my computer recognizes it after type “r”. its always super quick to make get updates, and has been better managed than some other wikis that ive seen. i get thats what its supposed to do, but i think its really refreshing all things considered.

.

#regretevator confessions #regretevator

[lovelyherruins]

omg sometimes I forget team black ARE real people and not just mindless bots.

half the issues in hotd didnt even involve alicent, if anything they already existed before she entered the picture. antis says she should've minded her own business but then not mention Harwin, Larys, and Joffrey.

If Harwin just kept it in his pants instead of becoming the crown princess' side hoe (because that's what he is) then the whole Strong boys and arguements wouldn't have happened.

Do I have to explain Larys??

I brought Joffrey up for one reason and it's this:

it wasn't necessary but did it cause the riot that happened? no, you know what did tho? Joffrey openly talking about his and Criston's "relationships" with the people getting married. was that necessary for him to do? no it wasn't because it what world WOULD it be needed for some guy to talk to Kingsguard's secret relationship with the princess?

Those three MEN should've minded their business not alicent. when she asked Rhaenyra questions it was her job or her being a friend which leads me to :

perhaps alicent wasn't but the same thing could be said about Rhaenyra (lying on her mother's grave anyone?? just being over all Brat when Alicent TRIED to fix them??). the thing is they were both in bad situations in which they had little to no control in. Neither can be blamed for how they tried to help themselves or how they acted under pressure as KIDS. people seem to forget that alicent was also a child and always say "she was older in the books!" tell me when you ever picked up that book. the show is clearly different to the books why keep bringing up alicent's age? to justify hating her as a child.

HER PROBLEMS WAS CAUSED BY THE MEN IN HER LIFE!!!!

who forced her to go to the king's chambers and wear her mother's dress? Her dad. Who had the power to NOT marry her but did it anyway? Viserys. Who mistook her (understandable) missing of her father as a reason to kill his father and brother? fucking Larys. Who impregnated her and when she had sons, did nothing to support her or to fix the problems arising with the birth of male heirs? Viserys.

"they were friends not lovers"

friends not lovers, guys!!

friends not lovers.

of course it's never openly stated that they were in love but considering that the actors (who know the characters best) said there was an underlying romance between them and it was purposeful... you can't blame others for shipping them because as they said it was THERE.

while it was a big jump that alicent took with his words, I prefer to see what she did as less of a cunning act and more of an act of desperation. a way to avoid the incoming fighting that'll happen when the word gets out.

I'm not sure if the commenter is blaming the dance on alicent but can we for a second remember that alicent was going against her dad to bring back aegon? the council already had plans to sit aegon at the throne, alicent's misunderstandings did nothing to change that.

if rhaenyra ascending the throne wouldn't have cause a civil war, then Jace ascending it definitely would have because let's not forget being anti-bastard was not a thing Alicent created, everyone was against them.

Team black stans will call themselves feminists and say they support women's rights but when Alicent is shown to them, they scream internalized misogyny and call her a cunt. are you a feminist or do you just like seeing women agree with you and your views? to fit into the mold you made for feminism

alicent is a great example of the oppression of women in any time period and the greatest show of WHY women need feminism, and antis don't even give her grace

they uplift and praise the women who already have power and freedom and put down everyone else who doesn't have those things. that tells me more about their character and beliefs than whatever color they identify as.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #anti team black stans #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent #i cant believe im making apost before the 2nd season even starts

[home2venus]

SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE

── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe  summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of freshly heartbroken jungkook genre/tags. pining, post-break up, (not so) unrequited love, incredibly whipped jungkook ─ this is jungkook's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐

Jeon Jungkook may have fucked up.

He’s not afraid to admit that, and neither is anyone else. Latto had cackled when he told her what happened, all broken up about being broken up with. She’s usually pretty cool about things, on his side, but she’s real with him too. The guys were kinder about it, but the general consensus was that Jungkook has maybe, definitely, fucked up.

So, it’s a messy situation, but it’s not impossible to fix. Jungkook’s a crafty guy, and he’s dedicated to everything he puts his mind to, so he’s sure that if he really tries, and really works hard he can fix this. He wants to fix it, desperately, because... well, because of everything. She’s everything.

She was everything. 

He needs to fix it. He needs to fix them. He can fix it, he knows he—

“Should leave her alone, right?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, snapping out of his thoughts. He’s sitting at a barstool, head in his hands with his elbows resting on the counter. He looks over to Latto, supremely unimpressed.

“She doesn’t want you, baby,” Latto shrugs, leaning next to him, eyes scanning the dancefloor absently as though she’s not actively ruining Jungkook’s life, “Give her some space, at least, before you rocket back into shit.”

“I need her to know—”

“You need to not push her into filing a restraining order,” Latto insists, rolling her eyes fondly. Jungkook pouts slightly, and she pats him on the shoulder, already walking away from him. He watches her leave, a little miffed and a little resigned because Latto is probably, definitely right, but he doesn’t want her to be.

“Then what should I do?” He yells at an already halfway gone Latto.

“Go home?” Latto yells back, “Go to therapy?” She disappears into the crowd, but he can hear her laughing to herself. 

So, Jungkook goes home. On the same train that he always does. At the same time as he always does. Jungkook, from the future, would like to claim that these factors make what happened next 100%, completely, absolutely, not his fault.

Jungkook steps on the train, emptier than usual but still bustling with people, and grabs the first empty seat he can find, sighing with relief as he just narrowly avoids standing in the shadow of a fairly gross looking businessman. He readjusts, stretching slightly as the train begins to move, and as he settles in his seat, he looks around the train and—

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Han So-hee is still as beautiful as the day they met, and still as devastating as the day she left.

“Um,” Jungkook says, and she rolls her eyes, beginning to stand.

“Excuse me,” So-hee starts to stand, looking to the people around her, “Do you want my s—”

The train shakes abrubtly, slamming her back into her seat, and she sighs, resigned and exhausted. She settles back into her seat, putting her earbuds back in with a pointed glare at him.

“Don’t say anything,” She bites out the words, like they’re painful, and they are painful, but more for Jungkook than her. Jungkook just nods, quiet and understanding. So-hee blinks, a little taken aback, but then she just rolls her eyes and returns back to her phone. Jungkook returns back to his too, but it’s absent, like he’s not fully there because he isn’t.

A different Jungkook wouldn’t have listened. He would’ve kept talking, pestered her into laughing and letting him back into her home, like he always did after arguments. But, current Jungkook knows he can’t do that anymore, that he did it one too many times, during an argument that was a little too serious, and now he can’t go back to her home, to what he always considered home, because he pushed her too far.

She gets off before him, because she always does. He can see the exact route she’ll take home in his head, memorized from nights where they stumbled back home together, drunk and giggly.

“I love you,” Jungkook says. He’s not sure if she hears him, but it doesn’t matter. He just needs to say it.

Through the departing train’s window, he watches her glance backward at him, before disappearing off the platform as a whole, into the streets of the city where she lives without him. 

Jungkook goes back to his apartment, and he realizes that he can’t live without her. Jungkook also realizes that she can live without him, that she doesn’t need him in the same way, and he wants to let her have that. He wants to try again, but he doesn’t want her to hate him.

So, Jungkook resolves to let her leave. 

Unfortunately, nothing is ever that easy. But, Jungkook would like to say that it’s not his fault.

Jungkook takes the same train he did when he was with her, because that’s the train he’s always taken, so he sees her constantly. Okay, whatever, that’s fine.

But, Jungkook goes to the same restaurants that he used to go to in university, back when him and So-hee would spend weekends and nights finding new, exciting places to eat, because he always goes to the restaurants. So-hee goes to them too, because she found them with him and has all the rights too, so he sees her at the restaurants and it’s hard to explain to every old woman behind the counter that no, they aren’t together anymore and haha, yeah, it’s all good, he just misses her more than he thinks he would miss his own lungs in his chest. So, he just... doesn’t tell them, and neither does she, and everyone still thinks they’re in love, so sometimes they sit across from each other in a restaurant booth to avoid any questions.

For practicality’s sake. 

Um. Anyways.

He sees her at the laundromat, and at this point, he misses her like the Earth would miss the Sun if it imploded in the sky. She’s in an old blue denim jacket from years ago, with her hair loose around her shoulders and messy as she slams around a laundry basket, clearly sick of him. He can’t help himself from looking though, swinging his legs atop his own washing machine, watching her load her clothes into the machine. His eyes catch on a faded sweatshirt he used to have years ago, his university logo faded and worn on the front of it, and he immediately averts his eyes. If she knows that he knows, she’ll give it back, because she’ll be embarrassed. The sweatshirt is proof he’s still something to her, he’s still useful, so if she gives it back, it’s one less sign that she doesn’t actually loathe him. He wants her to keep it, so he doesn’t say anything, not until the room starts to flood and they’re pushing at the ceiling.

I love you, he almost says when they make it out, and she starts on her way home, still soaked and angry. 

I love you, he almost says when he texts her about the police assuming her laundry was his, because his wallet had still been in her laundry basket. 

I love you, he almost says when she opens the door and lets him, and the laundry but mostly him, into her apartment and offers him coffee on instinct. 

Her cats brush at his hands and he coos at them like everything is normal, and she asks him about Jimin and work and if he could talk to the others about bringing her neice into the studio, and when he agrees, she says that she literally loves him, and Jungkook shatters.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, and So-hee doesn’t say it back, but she smiles a little bit, and lets him leave on his own, without slamming the door behind him. 

Things aren’t perfect, she doesn’t run back to him with open arms and beg to be married, but when he enters the place they used to study late into the night, begging the shop owner for just one more ramen bowl and a few more minutes, she takes her bag off the opposite seat, and doesn’t glare at him when he accidentally mumbles to himself too loud while working.

It’s not perfect, but it’s close, and missing her when she’s close is better than missing her when she’s far. At least she’s still in reach, and at least she still lets him look at her.

“I love you,” He says, without even thinking about it, and she doesn’t even look up.

“Yeah, yeah,” She says, the first aknowledgement since she broke up with him months ago, “Have you considered putting that energy into a job?”

“You’re better than a job,” Jungkook says, teasing but light, like she’ll shutter away if it’s not just a graze of a joke. She gives him a look, and he thinks shit, because oh no, oh god, he’s fucked it all up again and he—

“I’m better than everything,” She says back, a small smile playing on her face, a clear indication of her joke, “Get a better excuse.”

Jungkook misses her more than anything. Her eyes, and her hair, and her hands, and her cats, and her food, and her brain, but more than anything, he misses the way she makes him laugh out of nowhere.

He laughs, because of course he does, loud and disruptive, and it turns into choking giggles when the old ladies nearby shush him loudly. His eyes are shut, blinking rapidly to get away his tears, even though it really wasn’t that funny. It’s a mix of shock, and delight, and nostalgia making him inconsolably laugh, but his distraction stops him from noticing the way she grins fondly.It’s not an I love you, but it’s close, and he missed it. He missed everything about her. All he wants to do is get it back, and actually see it, see her, again.

#jungkook #seven jungkook #jeon jungkook #han so hee #jungkook fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #han so-hee #seven #༄˖°🪐 writes

[itsdefinitely]

and to you, character i like, i bestow upon you the highest honor i can give. grey hairs.

#i'm probably still gonna draw him 2d #but now he has a human form. for research purposes #definitely not because i need to put him in a Situation #prismo the wishmaster #scarab the god auditor #adventure time #fionna and cake #jake the dog #id in alt text #ough that id took me forever hopefully it's not swamp ass #definitely art #prohibitedwish

[ocdhuacheng]

I have… lots of thoughts on milsiril and kabru and the commentary on mixed-race family/adoption, in particular white parents with children of color. I think it’s really cool kui incorporated this into the story because lots of (particularly white) people just think adoption is this pure altruistic thing and don’t think about the negative affects it has on kids (again, kids of color) to not have people of their own culture to grow up with.

#I’m white so I can’t pretend this is something I am able to fully understand #and I feel like it’s not my place to write an essay on it? I’m sure poc could do it a lot better than me #but someone who is close to me is a poc in a kind of kabru adjacent situation #and I don’t want to give details bc this is personal and (obviously) not just to me so I don’t really want to talk about it too much #my point is. kabru ans milsiril just hit me really hard #I really love that kui made their relationship a relatively good one for the most part but she doesn’t just pretend it’s perfect #because it’s like. even if your parents are the best they can possibly be.l #if they don’t understand your culture that’s still a huge loss isn’t it? #and milsirils parenting skills….. definitely need a lot of work even if she means well #and the description of her adoptions as a ‘hobby’ makes it seem rather flippant imo #(not sure if that was just a translation thing tho) #but my impression is that kabru does still think of her fondly and is grateful for her taking him in and teaching him things #at the same time he does voice his frustrations about the cultural disconnect between them and her being ‘overprotective’ #but yeah #like that kind of thing needs to be talked about I’m grateful that she not just doesn’t shy away from it but puts it in your face like that #.txt #dungeon meshi #oh also clarification #when I say kui talks about this stuff I do mean as an allegory #bc while I don’t think it is at all a coincidence that kabru is dark skinned and milsiril is white (coded?) #their skin color doesn’t really come into account here #it’s really the disconnect between elves and tall-men #but look me in the eye and tell me that’s not what she was going for

[8rujaa]

my therapist really saved me….

#tw abuse // tw sa #i can’t sleep bc i keep thinking about this. #like i probably would’ve not been here if it weren’t for her #i started seeing her january of 2023… my life has changed entirely since then and she was definitely the one who got the ball rolling #literally so much has changed since then and it’s all because of her #i was so dissociated during our first few sessions #thanks to her i was able to get diagnosed and medicated for adhd. i was able to realize i was in an abusive situation and plan a way out #i was able to focus on myself and my healing and she’s helped me reframe so much of my negative thinking #i was able to process a lot of emotions and become a better version of myself with each session #she’s truly incredible. #i remember the first comment she made about the relationship had been ‘’so it’s like there’s an imbalance of control in the relationship’’ #i had put my partners on such a high pedestal that i had no idea they could be doing anything wrong #and i asked her what she meant and she said ‘from what you’ve been describing it’s sounds like a strict parents and child type of dynamic’ #she told me they didn’t need to understand why i wanted to leave and they didn’t need to make that decision. if that’s what was going to be #best for me the only thing i could do is let them know my reasoning and simply leave. i didn’t need their permission.’’ #i remember being so confused at that realization bc like… i had been putting their emotions over mine the whole time i had forgotten simply #doing what’s best for me was an option… l #ever since then i’ve been putting myself first and it’s been a steady uphill from rock bottom… i’ve made an incredible amount of progress #when i first started with her getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen was incredibly difficult and took all my strength. #yesterday i conquered a mountain!!!!!!! i hiked all the way to the top!!!!! :D #me a year ago thought it was going to take me years and years to recover. as soon as i left i made leaps of progress #im incredibly proud of myself and grateful for her. and my reiki lady she’s also been a great great help. #the silver lining is i realized who really matters. and the relationships i cared about deepened. #my sweet virgo friend was the one who was always like ‘THATS A GROWN ASS MAN WHO CANT UNDERSTAND BASIC CONSENT???’ #LMFAO i would be like ‘but he has trauma and bla bla bla’ she looked me dead in the eyes and said #’jess you said with your last boyfriend that you would never make excuses for a man who was hurting you again. stop defending him.’ #she’s really a gem and i treasure her with my life. i hope she knows i love her. she’s family at this point #she’s also literally saved my life before (like deadass called 911 for help) #im glad i had the support system i had. that was a rough situation with so many layers and im glad i got through it #my 22nd year of life was by far the worst of my life and i don’t ever want to put myself in that situation again. im glad i learned.

[writing-good-vibes]

all in the name of love

guess who's back !! i invite y'all to watch your favourite fanfic author project her own insecurity regarding intimacy/relationships onto this random hot topic employee. i put vincent through the ringer in this one, apologies in advance. bold is asl, as always. divider images by @/suckgirl. check out sol's art that heavily inspired vincent's smoking habit 🚬😈. domestic sinclair content for the most part but WARNING for some mild spicy implications because i am giving bo too much credit for his hoeing around.

When they are 9 years-old, Bo comes home from school one day and tells Vincent all about his day.

His class has been reading Charlotte's Web, and Bo doesn't like Zuckerman because he was going to eat the pig. He had meatloaf for lunch, and sat next to Scotty Jones, which was good because Scotty is the coolest kid in their grade. In geography they're still going over the State Capitals, which is really boring because Bo already knows all of the State Capitals. At recess he got married to Missy Landry.

At recess, Bo got married to Missy Landry.

Vincent nods and listens when Bo tells him how pretty Missy is. She has brown hair and brown eyes and is the best at jump rope and sits two seats in front of Bo in class. She's friends with Tanya Freeman who is the prettiest girl in their grade and who got married to Scotty at recess last Tuesday.

Vincent doesn't go to school with Bo, he stays at home and Mama teaches him all of his lessons. Reading, Writing, Arithmetic. Lester doesn't do any lessons yet because he's barely more than a baby. Or at least that's how Vince still sees him.

Vincent has read Charlotte's Web and has PB&Js for lunch and knows all of the State Capitals by heart.

Vincent doesn't have anyone to marry out on the schoolyard.

When they are 12 years old, Bo comes home from school with a handful of Valentines.

The two of them sit on Bo's bed and, as Vincent looks over each card, covered in glitter and pink gel pen love hearts, Bo tells him about the girls that sent them. The girls who giggled as they dropped their tokens of affection onto his desk as they passed by, and the ones that blushed.

Lisa and Tara and Christine and Becky.

Vincent traces each heart, each xoxo, with care. He puts the cards aside and tries to brush the glitter from his hands. It sticks in the creases of his palms and glints from the fabric of his baggy blue jeans.

He thinks, absently, about Joshua Mayer who lives down the hill from them. He has red hair that is almost as red as the hearts on Bo's Valentines.

Bo is still talking. He says he didn't send any Valentine's, because he doesn't care about soppy, girly things like that.

When they are 14, Bo gets himself a date to their first high school dance.

This is the first year that the twins have gone to school together. Mama said it would be better for Vincent to be around kids his own age for a while, and that she just didn't have the time to teach him what he needed at home anymore.

The lucky girl is Missy Landry. Vincent remembers her. Bo married her at recess when they were 9. It seems like their marriage is going well, and to think Vincent had expected they'd be divorced by now.

Vincent had though Bo didn't care about the dance. But he watches anyway as Bo walks up to Missy after Algebra and says, "Wanna go to the dance with me?"

That's it. Seven words that make up a question that Bo already knows the answer to. That everyone already knows the answer to.

Missy says yes and Bo grins. They briefly discuss their plans, before Missy's friend is tugging her elbow because the bell is about to go for next period.

The twins turn to make their way to their own classes.

"Who are you gonna ask?" Bo asks.

Vincent turns with a start. "What?"

"To the dance," Bo reiterates, though he knows Vince knows exactly what he meant. "You're going to ask someone, right?

Vincent shrugs, watches as Christine Deville passes them in the opposite direction. In the first week of their English class, Christine had forgotten her copy of Catcher in the Rye and had to share Vincent's copy, under teacher's orders. Vincent felt the sweat prickle on the back of his neck as Christine asked, "Should I move over to you?" He shook his head, shuffled his desk closer to hers and held the book as steady as he could, dutifully turning the page when necessary and certainly not making eye contact with the pretty girl next to him.

He doesn't make eye contact with her now, either. She passes them by without a second glance.

When they are 17 years-old, Bo is late driving him and Vincent home from school one Friday.

Vincent waits around the truck, swinging his legs from where he is sat on the dented hood. He and Bo aren't in the same 8th period, so they always meet at Bo's truck after the final bell and drive home. Across the lot, he sees Joshua Mayer. Now he's almost as tall as Vince and plays the tuba in marching band. He's with his band friends, all packing their instruments into someone's SUV. Joshua has a loud laugh, he always has, and it makes Vincent smile behind the mask. He dutifully ducks his head down anyway.

Bo ends up being almost 20 minutes late, and the parking lot is emptying out by the time he saunters up to his twin, looking far too pleased with himself.

"I have a date with Stacy Leblanc tonight," he says, hopping into the drivers seat and switching the ignition.

Vincent follows, climbing in the passenger side door and throwing his school bag into the back seat. "Is that why you were late?"

"Time is it?" Bo asks. He doesn't wear a watch, so Vincent does.

Vince shuffles the sleeve of his hoodie up and checks the time. "3:18."

"I'm not that late," he chides, putting the truck into gear and driving out of the lot. "Had plans to make, didn't I? M'pickin' her up at 6."

They drive in silence for a while, until they get to the long stretch of road that leads back to Ambrose. It's secluded, with tall, windswept trees on either side and a dwindling trickle of traffic.

Bo glances over at Vincent, feeling a heaviness in the air that always comes when it isn't a good time for Vince to speak but he has something to say anyway. Humming lowly with interest, Bo sits back in his seat.

Vince leans forward, twisting in his seat to better face his brother. "I thought you said Stacy Leblanc was a slut?"

He did say that, last week actually. "Yeah well, she should know what she's doing then, shouldn't she?" He grins, raising his brows almost comically.

Vincent shrugs noncommittedly. "If you say so."

Bo smirks, pushing playfully at Vincent's chest. He leans back against the passenger door to get out of Bo's reach. "What, you jealous? I could put in a good word for you, if you want? Then maybe you'll finally get some."

When they are 21, Vincent drops out of college and Bo has to come and pick him up.

They don't talk for a long while. They pack Vince's things up into boxes and stack them in the back of Bo's truck. Each box is labelled. Clothes. Bedding. Books. Supplies: Paints. Supplies: Tools. Supplies: Sketching.

He stops by at a few of his friends dorms to say goodbye. He doesn't tell them he's not coming back in the fall. Just as he's leaving the dorm block, he runs into another friend. A girl from his Art History class. They'd been to parties together, sipping wine in the corner, sometimes his free hand would brush hers, but they never talked about that. He says one more goodbye and then turns to leave

He finds the truck parked across the street. Bo is sat on the dented hood, smoking.

"Who's the lil' blonde?" Bo gestures discreetly over Vincent's shoulder with the cigarette packet.

Vince takes a smoke and slowly turns to look in the direction Bo is pointing. Of course he knows who Bo's talking about, but what harm is there in one last look?

She's continuing down the side walk, the same way she was going when Vincent crossed her path that final time. As she rounds the corner of the block, she casts a glance over her shoulder, gives a half-wave in Vincent's direction, and then disappears out of his life. Or he is about to disappear out of hers? Same difference.

When he turns back to his twin, Bo is holding a lighter out, the flame flickering in the faint breeze. Vincent shifts his mask off, dangling it gently from his fingers for a second, before he deposits it safely next to Bo. As Vincent leans forward to light his cigarette, he lets his hair fall just enough to cover his face.

Pulling away and taking the first testing drags, Vincent replies, "Loretta."

"She's cute," Bo nods, like he's appraising a piece of antique furniture. "She put out?"

Vincent shakes his head.

When they are 22, the guy that Bo had sworn he wasn't dating moves out of Ambrose, so he convinces Vincent to come with him to the closest bar for some of that brotherly bonding they hadn't had a lot of time for in the past few months. He most definitely is not drowning his sorrows.

Vincent doesn't go out much anymore, but he usually accompanies Bo without much fuss. At least he can drive them home, so Bo doesn't total the truck. And to think, once upon a time, Vince was worried that it'd always be him that totalled the Chevy.

They sit at the bar and Bo drinks and Vincent smokes.

A girl with brown hair and brown eyes appears beside Bo and he buys her a drink, because Bo has never been immune to a pretty girl. She bats her lashes and Bo excuses them to "get some air".

Vincent waits, watching the clock above the bar. Sometimes, he wonders if Bo brings him along to be a comparative wingman. Because, Vincent knows, any girl in their right mind would rather hook up with Bo, especially when they see that he is the ugly alternative. He ashes his cigarette into the green glass ash tray.

There's a man, with cropped black hair and broad shoulders, at at the other end of the bar. Vincent can't help but stare. Well-timed glances which make his own heart flutter. He's practiced a smile in the mirror before; no teeth, nonchalantly suggestive. Instead, he watches for the flex of muscle that suggests movement in the other man, suggests he might get caught, and dutifully averts his gaze. When the man downs the last of his beer and leaves, Vince sighs, chin resting on his hand. That could have been an almost, he thinks.

Bo comes back, without the girl, after about 20 minutes. The flush on his face is cooling down, but he's still tucking his t-shirt back into his jeans by the time he arrives back at the stool next to Vince's.

"Where's your 'friend'?"

"She has places to be."

Vincent grunts, turning away to get a new smoke from the packet between them on the bar.

Bo nudges his twin, making him look back at him. "Don't be jealous. You're too good for a girl like that, anyway."

Vincent knows that isn't exactly true. He thinks, at this point, he'd take just about anyone who would have him.

#vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #slashers #slasher fandom #ahhh i'm back on my usual bullshit #is this me going through some personal stuff and projecting it onto the twins as usual? definitely #i put vince through the ringer i'm so sorry #i want to clarify that i do in fact think vincent could have had v good game when he was at art school #but also the impact of never having a playground wedding is real af and i needed someone to feel that with me #vince is the lamb at the sacrificial alter of unwantedness #even though i promise y'all i want him very badly #and where i give vince no game; i give bo too much game #no way is bo 'bongwater' sinclair getting that many dates #but also. the contrast is important #when you have a direct comparision and you're doing 'worse' idk cant be great #idk this is all very complex and just one side of my opinions/reading of this whole situation for the twins #and don't forget friends !! this is totally me projecting so if you have a problem with vincent not getting any #take it up with god because he's the one that made *me* like this #ngl i'm really. really proud of this fic tbh 😊 #i really hope yall enjoy #it feels more.. idk more like what i was trying to get back too #also if you saw the version i posted on ao3 before re-editing.. no you didnt #ahhh also also !! #the smpking inspiration for vince absolutely comes from solivagant-muse !! #sol's college twins sketches were so gorgeous and havent left mu mind since #this city's cold and empty