#i could try to fuck with more extreme perspectives to get things to fit without sacrificing the proportions. like g1 pokemon sprites

[synthaphone]

Finished the Royal Centibytes, in both pre- and post-conversion flavors!

I thought court jesters would be a fun change of pace from king/queen or prince/princess- there's a precedent for royals to occasionally be things like heralds and war(?)horses, and I wanted to make a royalgirl who isn't a princess, noblewoman, or queen. I got to learn a little about some historical female court jesters while looking for references, which was cool!

I agonized for a while over whether I should put eyelashes on the one that I arbitrarily assigned 'Royalgirl', but ended up deciding that they look cute.

#i'm happy with these but i feel like the proportions got away from me a bit #i was so focused with getting clear and energetic poses that fit all the limbs in that i kind of lost their lankiness #i think its partially the struggle of working with something i designed in 2018 that doesn't fit well into a 150x150 box #the lenny is also tall and gets away with leaving a lot of negative space in its circle/happy poses while not losing clarity #but its head is less complicated to draw on a small scale; there's less detail to lose #i could try to fuck with more extreme perspectives to get things to fit without sacrificing the proportions. like g1 pokemon sprites #well. that's enough outta me #my art #centibytes #neopets #i'll update my webbed site with them in a bit; i wanna eat lunch

[kiwikiwii]

Very Big and Very Long AI rant.

After the recent OpenAI stuff I'm gonna be here to share my two cents about the whole very realistic AI stuff, from the perspective of a very anxious and very art oriented person who loves techy stuff.

I very much would understand if this isn't your cup of tea so it's all undercut, thank you for your time anyways <3

Now. Onto the AI stuff.

Recently OpenAI has put out some new technology that's showing off some very nearly realistic videos and they're both creepy and very uncanny. About 2 or 3 years ago, the concerns about AI was already rising with deep fakes and the such and is going to start being a lot worse if this technology isn't properly regulated. This is what is prompting my very long and apparently, 927 word rant.

Going to put this in a few parts so it'll be easier to digest I hope.

About the tech.

We are at a point where the lines of AI generated content and real life are starting to blur. It's to a point where a sentence or a prompt could create scenes that look realistic enough that most people wouldn't even suspect that it's AI.

It is such a powerful and interesting technology that's slowly growing out of control. The people who are supposed to regulate the content and lawmakers has no idea what the fuck is going on and how the content is made in the first place, how are they supposed to make a change when they don't even understand what they're supposed to be tackling. The lack of understanding of how AI functions, how it comes to be, where the data was even gotten from in the first place and how it will impact society as a whole will truly be how we'll lose control of it someday. I'm not saying any of this because I want to be a 'hinderance to the future of technology', I'm saying this because the later we try to do something about it, the harder it is to do anything that is useful and effective for safeguarding artists, creators and everyone else who's using the internet. Not to mention the amount of frauds or scams that will skyrocket, children's safety on the internet being compromised, YOUR safety on the internet being compromised, people faking inappropriate images, videos and more will be a nightmare to deal with.

About art.

Many corporate companies unfortunately don't give a fuck about how the art is made and whether it's good or not but how fast it can be made and how much money can be made off of it. In their eyes, the trade off between quantity and quality is worth it. And that to me is extremely frustrating because where the art comes from should also be a part of the story when talking about art. Who the person who made it was like, how they developed a certain style and so on should be cared about and should be appreciated just like the art piece that was created. It shouldn't just be treated as another piece of thing to be fed to the scanner to be spat out as something else.

About creating.

Art is intrinsically a very human thing. People who make the argument "it's letting more people experience how it's like to create art" doesn't understand what it's like to create art. The entire idea of art is the learning, developing and polishing of the skills that you yourself develop. Taking away the steps that it took to get there in the first place diminishes the point of wanting to make art in the first place. It's degrading the time, energy and effort of the people who've already put effort into creating said art to be put out as a cheap and gross mimic of what it came from.

More emotional stuff that doesn't fit in any of the spaces above.

I saw someone use the word 'amalgamation' to describe what AI is today and that about wraps it all up. It's an amalgamation of dots and data skinned off of what there was and chained together to create an image, a video, an audio sample and more without a shred of humanity, love or emotion put into it.

I barely go on twitter nowadays, when I so, I see people sing high praises about the "the amazing advances of AI" and downplay the part of artists that were stolen for to create the technology they love so much in the first place. This whole ordeal makes me sick. It's depressing to see companies laying people off because they're seen as useless or worse than AI. It's disgusting to see the amount of talented people out there stolen from so that people could churn out heartless work at a faster pace to replace you. It's not a stepping stone for humanity, we're stepping over the ledge blindfolded.

I will never stop creating. It's what makes up a big part of me and will continue to be even if AI starts crumbling humanity to ash. One thing they can never take from us is creativity.

To the people who read this far, thank you. Thank you for spending your time to read over my word vomit that has been cooking in my head for the longest time.

To the artist that are still reading this. Remember you are irreplaceable. Without your art, this technology wouldn't have been here in the first place. Your art is invaluable. Never stop creating. Never give up, never give in.

Have a bear <3

#rant #ai rant #very long post #no beta we die like men #bonus bear #thank you for coming to my ted talk

[minkkumaz]

I'M JUST YOUR PROBLEM

after blowing you off, you never thought that things between you and kyungmin would be the same. and it didn't, he was your enemy. when finally getting the chance to confront him about all the shit he's done, why does it make you want want to try making up with him?

DISTANT LANDS AND OTHER ADVENTURES series

PAIRING cho kyungmin x fem!reader WC 2.6k TAGS enemies to lovers trope. forced proximity trope. school au. angst/fluff. cussing. kissing. making up. bsf minho. like one kys joke. OMI NOTE marceline songs hit like ten times different so writing this literally had me pumped. i've never done forced proximity before but it's extremely fitting.

cho kyungmin was quite literally the spawn of satan, your sworn enemy til the day you’d die. the face that you fell for ended up being the face that also left you stranded like an idiot. when you couldn’t cry anymore and your eyes felt puffy and numb, you turned to hate.

classes the following week became even more difficult to believe, as you felt small in comparison to his lingering presence. there was a possibility that maybe he forgot about the first date he planned, things happen and that was something you were okay with.

but you weren’t expecting him to act like nothing happened, act like he didn’t spend countless nights laughing over the phone like he was yours. you felt like a mere ghost, parading through his life like a fucking play toy. because from your perspective, you were just his problem.

“i’m going to bury you in the ground, kyungmin.” you sobbed, anger seething through your teeth.

the expression on his face was blank, though you almost swore he let down his guard for a second seeing you hold back hot tears. but you didn’t want pity, you wanted closure. a reason why the idea of your existence dropped from his earth.

no understanding, no communication, not a single dust particle of love behind his dark eyes. that day marked a countdown of hating him and everything that involved him. an ill circumstance that landed him in the most broken spots of your heart.

he understood your feelings in a way that he felt the need to reflect them. so what was once a one - sided hatred became a mutually agreed upon alliance against one another. if anything, this made you more upset. what did you do to end up on his black - list?

day eighty - five of loathing cho kyungmin, and school became insufferable around him. the recent weather forecast had been wearisome, leaving you wanting nothing more than to kick back at home and sleep for the remainder of your life.

the court yard was always busiest during lunch hours, yet the rustle and bustle of school life kept you awake. students scattered about in their cliques, chatting about recent homework assignments or bothersome teachers. you poked at your food with your chopsticks since you didn’t have much of an appetite.

“are you okay, y/n? you’re not eating any of your food and i swear i heard your stomach grumbling during the quiz.” minho asked, stealing a piece of kimchi off your plate and dropping it in his mouth.

“not really, i don’t know. i’m just a little frustrated with everything right now.” you groan in response, setting down your utensil to bury your face in your hands.

“let me guess, does this have something to do with him?” he raises one of his eyebrows as you nod in annoyance.

“dude, i overheard haemin complaining that his only friend,” you air quoted, “was being transferred into my p.e. period. and we both know exactly who he was talking about.”

“that’s rough, have you talked to jaeyun about it? since he’s one of the sports captains, he could probably tell you for sure if that’s what you’re worried about.” he suggests.

“haemin and kyungmin are practically inseparable. even when i liked kyungmin, he was honestly kind of hesitant talking to me without him around. so i know for a fact i’m going to see his stupid face tomorrow.” you ramble, letting out a defeated exhale.

“listen, you’ll be perfectly fine. don’t let him work you up like that, he doesn’t deserve the satisfaction, okay?” he advised you, patting your shoulder for comfort.

“minho, he shouldn’t even need satisfaction in the first place! kyungmin left me at a park. in the rain.” you emphasize the last bit, “i’m the only one that deserves to hate him.”

“i know, and it sucks. but i’ve heard this story like a million times, y/n. we need to get you some kind of therapy sessions if you’re going to keep at it like this.”

“literally choke.”

“kidding! i’m kidding. don’t do that to me please and thank you.” he laughed lightly, “but seriously, you’ll be okay. you always are. plus i’m just a phone call away if you need me to curse him over the phone or something, i don’t know.”

“you do too much for me minho. don’t worry, i know you just want to help me, thank you. i’ll try to figure it out i guess.” you exaggerate a sigh, making minho lean over to give you a friendly hug.

“now, eat your food before i feed the scraps to the birds on our way to next period.” he threatens, pointing a chopstick at your forehead.

after letting out all of your problems like word vomit, you were finally able to swallow down some of your meal. minho, your respective best friend had heard almost all of your hell stories about wanting to rip off kyungmin’s head. it was almost like he experienced the whole thing with you; or maybe the idea of him drenched down in a casual dress was a funny thing to imagine.

lunch passed by quickly, as did the rest of the school day. you took notes, turned in assignments, complained minho’s ear off once more, and suddenly the final bell rang meaning you could finally return home. in between all of this, you somehow forgot about the boy in your aching heart.

your steps pattered against the pavement when a feeling of dread washed over you. why did it feel like your world was going to shatter at school tomorrow? fallen leaves crushed underneath your shoes, resembling how scattered your mind felt.

day eighty - six of loathing kyungmin and every bone in your body felt like it was going to give out and abandon you as a pile of fleshy mush. you and your classmates gathered in the field wearing your p.e. uniforms, waiting for your coach to come out with the proper equipment.

kyungmin was only a couple people away from you and it already gave you an incomprehensible headache. just feeling his presence near you sent shivers down your spine, and you knew he could care less about whether you were there or not.

was it immature to still be hung up on what happened between the two of you even after almost three months?

you couldn’t stomach your stress right now, attempting to take deep breaths to soothe yourself. the cold air helped slightly; you became thankful for the dreary weather and couple raindrops that fell from the sky.

“alright everyone, it seems to be sprinkling a bit, but we’ll pass around the football for now. let’s just hope the rain doesn’t get too intense.” your coach explains, “pair up with the person next to you and come grab a ball.”

“i can go get the ball.” you offer  the girl next to you before walking over to the net full of footballs.

reaching your hand into the bag, you press a finger into each one, making sure you grab one that isn’t too flat nor too full of air. you’re searching for a couple seconds, before another hand bumps into yours.

“oh, i’m sorry–” looking up to apologize, you find yourself face to face with kyungmin. you take back your hand quickly.

“don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault your hand was in the way.” he smiles almost mockingly.

“whatever.” you mumble, pulling away to let him grab what he needs first although there were two bags.

while you wait, more droplets of water pattered against your skin, becoming slightly more frequent. you look over to your coach talking to another teacher, darting his gaze up from the sky and to his co - worker. he blows his whistle suddenly, as everyone looks over in his direction.

“seems like the rain is just going to get worse from here.” he announces before pointing at you and kyungmin, “both of you go put the equipment away, the rest of us will head back into the gym and run some laps around the courts for the rest of the period.

there was a chorus of disappointed murmurs from your classmates, before they all dropped the footballs they were able to grab. this left you and kyungmin alone, making your anxiety sky - rocket. against your will, you grab one of the bags and start towards the shed.

the sound of shoes against squishy grass tell you that kyungmin is following closely behind. you speed up with half of your intentions to get away from him and the other half to escape from the drowning rain.

once you get under the awning of the equipment shed, you slide open the already half - open door to let yourself in. there’s an assortment of different sports balls and rackets, all somewhat organized. kyungmin closes the door behind the both of you unknowingly while you find a spot to put away the footballs.

dropping down the bag in silence, you leave him to do the same and head out. when you twisted the door knob, it felt almost jammed. turning it harder and harder, it was deemed useless, making you panic.

“hello? hello!” you fidget with the door, practically throwing yourself against it in hopes it will magically open.

“did we get locked inside?” the boy behind you questions, making you turn around in disbelief.

“no actually, i’m just communicating with god on the other side. yes it’s locked!” you argued, “why did you close it behind you?”

“i didn’t know it wasn’t supposed to be closed!” he defended himself.

“oh my gosh i think i’m going to fucking faint if i have to be here with you for who knows how long.” you start pacing around the shed.

“i’m right here, you know.”

“do you want me to treat you like a princess or something? is that what you want me to do?” you tell him, “we’re not exactly on good terms you know.”

“you don’t have to freak out about it, someone will come find us eventually.” he shrugs.

“please tell me this is a nightmare.” you mutter under your breath.

“it’s pretty real, i don’t know.” he says, sitting down on the floor.

“oh my god i’m not asking you, kyungmin.”

“this isn’t fun for me either, you know. you don’t have to pretend like you’re the only one in distress here.” he mumbles.

“am i that much of an inconvenience to you? last time i checked there’s no reason for you to be mad at me.” you scoff, taking your own seat on the floor.

“i never said you were an inconvenience to me, i just don’t really want to be trapped in a sweaty equipment shed with the smell of leather like.. everywhere.” he explains casually, picking up a tennis ball.

you curl your knees into your body, leaning your head back against the wall, “yeah, right.”

“do i really stress you out that much?” he asks you out of nowhere.

“yes.” you respond blatantly.

“why?”

“i shouldn’t have to justify what i do. i have nothing to prove, kyungmin. you just do.” you claimed, “and i haven’t even got a proper explanation or apology yet.”

tension became thick in the air, palpable enough to be cut with even the dullest knife. being in the same room with someone you swore was your most hated person made your face heat up. yet you still wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to feel less cold.

the sound of a tennis ball being thrown against the wall and bouncing back filled your ears, though you weren’t in a circumstance to complain. anything was better than sitting in silence for who knows how long. 

minutes went by with no sign of a teacher coming to break the two of you free. it wouldn’t be long before the bell rang for the next period, leaving you feeling hopeless. the rain only seemed to get heavier outside.

being forced in proximity with kyungmin made you less angry in a way. every second that ticked by messed with your head, inching to get come kind of answer out of him. though in a way, it made you miss him more. he’d never leave class without you by his side, getting you juices from the vending machine, holding your hand tightly when you were nervous for a test.

“you’re kind of unbelievable, you know.” you spoke.

“what is that supposed to mean?” he glanced over to you curiously.

“that night. you said you’d take me on a walk through the park after we stopped to get food. but you never showed up to the restaurant, so i assumed you’d be waiting for me there.” you told him, feeling tinges of sadness rather than hate, “i waited on a bench for an hour before it started pouring. you never showed up.”

“you waited in the rain..?” he stammered slightly.

“i shouldn’t have to be the one that makes up with you.” you whisper, “but why do i want to?”

“y/n..” your name falls from his lips like honey.

he scoots himself closer to you until your shoulders are barely touching, his sudden appearance making you flinch. you were still tense next to him as he started to speak.

“i’m so sorry for being so mean to you. for ignoring you, pretending like nothing happened between us when everything happened.” he apologized, “you don’t have anything to apologize for. my mind was so crowded that night. i wasn’t sure if i was ready to love someone like you.”

“then why didn’t you tell me anything, kyungmin? you hurt me.” you began to tear up.

“i didn't know how.. can you tell i’ve never done this before? confronting my feelings while trying to convince myself that you wouldn't break things off with me if i wasn't ready. but listening to my head didn't get us anywhere either.” he confessed, “i was really intimidated when you came up to me the day after, and i wasn’t sure what to do. so i did nothing. it’s a terrible excuse, really.

“you fucked up. i absolutely hated you for standing me up like that..”

“you had every right to hate me. so i don’t know why i thought it was a good idea to hate you back. now that i’m looking back, it was immature. i missed so much time with you because i didn’t have a taste of what it was like for someone like you to love me back.”

“kyungmin, i don’t know what to say i–”

“let me fix this, please?” he moves your head by your chin, turning you to face him directly.

“you can try..” you murmured, watching his stare fixate from your eyes to your lips.

closing the gap, he enveloped you in a kiss that almost felt criminal considering every feeling you’ve had for him in the past three months has been hate. but he was trying. you’d never forget the pain he caused you, but part of you could forgive him.

it was soft, and he held you oh so gently against his lips. his hand trailed around your waist, pulling you closer into him. could this be the beginning of something different between you and him? as he pulled away, he couldn’t help but show a sad smile on his face.

“y/n, can i take you out on a proper date this time..?”

“i’ll see if minho lets me first after all the shit i talked to him about you.” you laugh, looking at his pretty pink tinted face.

“okay, that makes sense, i kind of deserved it. if it makes you feel any better, i’ll pick you up so you don’t have to worry!” he suggests.

“what if i stand you up by not being at my house, hm?”

“then i’ll wait on your porch in the rain for you until you show up.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz ! DISTANT LANDS AND OTHER ADVENTURES series

#⋆｡˚ my works #cho kyungmin x reader #kyungmin x reader #kyungmin angst #kyungmin fluff #8turn kyungmin #kyungmin 8turn #8turn x reader #8turn fluff #8turn angst #8turn imagines #8turn fanfic #8turn scenarios #8turn drabbles #8turn #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kyungmin imagines #cho kyungmin

[trillscienceofficer]

harry and b'elanna for the ship bingo? o:

ANOTHER VERY GOOD ONE

I finally check the 'they're fucking the same guy' box and I don't even get bingo smdh

I LOVE THEM... I can take either friendship or romance when it comes to Harry and B'Elanna but I 100% believe they've fucked at least once. There's a post that says 'they're het TO YOU, I know they're both bisexual' and that encapsulates the way I see Harry and B'Elanna together very well.

I love the way they meet in “Caretaker” and how that just solidifies in this friendship were they can both be their best (worst?) mad scientist selves. They're just so in sync, practically from the start! I love that Harry finds nothing wrong with B'Elanna's ideas and objections, and that his respect for her comes through very clearly so that B'Elanna has no issue with trusting Harry and that if he has a different perspective from her own he's not objecting to B'Elanna herself.

As @clementine-kesh has pointed out multiple times, it's interesting that these two people became fast friends because their backgrounds could not be more different. Harry is the gifted kid destined for great things, whose family always had his back; B'Elanna's life is a succession of adults and authority figures telling her that there is something wrong with her and that she'll never be able to fit in anywhere, which has destroyed her sense of identity almost completely. It's fun that they're foils this way but the whole 'being 70 years away from getting back home' levels the field and allows them to form such a loving connection.

Of course this not to say that their differences don't come through sometimes. Harry seems to have trouble understanding B'Elanna's stubborn efforts in trying to 'make things right' (think of “Prototype” and “Muse”), as he perceives them as futile while B'Elanna stakes a lot of her self-worth on being able to correct what she finds wrong in the world. Conversely B'Elanna makes fun of Harry still holding out hopes that she considers naive, though in reality I think it's just because those hopes were the same she used to have and can't bear to be reminded of. I love when these little jagged edges come out in a friendship that is generally unproblematic.

It makes me INSANE that season 3 gave them both essentially the same plotline with Tom, ie they almost lost control of themselves entirely and hurt Tom in the process. That's so fucked up and they never talked about it! Nevermind the fact that I think them discussing it could have lessened the racist framing of “Blood Fever” (Harry is obviously not Klingon and yet he lost control as well when push came to shove, what does this say about being human?), but I also would love to make it more fucked up and have them hook up post-“Blood Fever” for maximum angst potential as I've talked about here.

Angst aside I think this is the kind of really loving, devoted relationship I wish both B'Elanna and Harry had been allowed to have (more) on the show. Even in a throuple with Tom I consider the Harry/B'Elanna side to be of extreme importance and value, to the point that without it I don't think Harry/Tom/B'Elanna would hold much interest to me, whoops

[here are the other ship bingo meme entries]

#harry/b'elanna #askbox #voy #i'm rotating them in mind as we SPEAK #this is such a good ship thank you anon for this ask #ship bingo meme

[zushimart]

I think him not deleting himself is a better way for the story when it comes to meeting the people he's affected, I just think that the way he deleted himself was better way for the story for himself. I think they handled his attempted suicide and attempt to fix things really well, because not only does it show that you can't actually change the past or future of teyvat unless you're an alien variable, but also that he was willing to take his life for a person he spent hundreds of years "hating" just because he learned they didn't betray him. It just fits really well with how he still hadn't moved on from the death of the first people who let him exist as himself.

I'm explaining this kinda messy because I'm hungry rn :/ but what I mean is I think what they did with the story was the best for both teyvat lore in general and also his own self, but if he's to meet the inazuma squad in an event or something I think it's gonna be kinda messy to write it well. Like maybe they'll just include a line that's like "oh yeah the traveller told me about you etc etc" and I don't really want that, but I also don't want one of those black background white text "wanderer explains what he did in the past" so even though I really like the way it's written I'm kinda worried for the conclusion of his own arc (kaedehara buddhist enlightenment) because I can't think of a way to show it well without it being either very long or anticlimactic

YESSSS i agree with you onn that. i think ive talked about how i do like (from a storytelling perspective, not.. you know.. LOL) the severity and SWIFTNESS of his decision to erase (kill) himself. it was very stomach-dropping in the moment if you were someone that already cared about him. i actually remember putting the game down and walking over to my roommate to just sit in silence for a little bit LMFAOOO. it exemplifies how impulsive & swayed by emotion he is and just how deeply his self hatred motivates his actions as well as his EXTREME DESIRE to love and trust others (and how he felt like he couldnt for so so so long). but i also think it effectively shook any mistaken preconceptions other players might have had if they werent as invested in his character (people who thought he was irredeemably evil or inherently malicious in character, it's pretty hard to believe that about someone who can regret their actions so much and so quickly and immediately try to correct what he's done at his own expense). i'll try and go find & reblog my initial thoughts ab the quest tbh i wanna go reread what i wrote.

from like an authorial perspective, erasing himself from irminsul feels very much like one of those "i want to write this so bad because i think it is a fascinating development for this character, but it does not fit in with what i want to do with this character in the future and therefore might be more trouble than its worth as it undermines other plot points i would like to achieve with this character" which when i encounter that i usually write the scene to get the inspiration OUT but treat it as a separate timeline or a "what if."

this is legit completely personal opinion so it doesnt rly fucking matter at all but i honest to god don't find "no matter what you do, the past cannot be changed" something to be particularly interesting. so i guess thats why i have so many qualms with this direction. maybe its bc like. duh. to me. and maybe bc im not particularly invested in the overall story, so i didn't catch anything it might move along in the traveler's development. So i guess thats why im a believer in 'this could have been done differently and better. some Other way for him to find out about niwa.' especially because i've already had a myriad of qualms with the storytelling regarding scara before this point. so my perspective is a bit warped by opinions .

i think i just HATTTE the clunkiness that i expect to follow in regards to his character relationships. like there is something so uncomfortable about it to me like, i just.. u word it very well. it's gonna be Messy. and im always stressed about "messy," especially because i already felt like the storytelling behind his resolution was Already messy. the quest itself re-iterated his past .. so many times... i remember getting Annoyed... (through a) already accessible lore, b) that stupid academic paper, c) irminsul scene d) the "storybook", ANDDD e) re-living his memories... it felt very repetitive, almost overkill to me). so im just dreading what's to come especially if has to re-hash things to characters in-game that have already been explained to the player literally four sometimes five times over. i just want to get to new developments, NEW plot-points, NEW storylines and i want them to be COMPELLING and i want him to develop COMPLEX and MOVING and STRONG character relationships.

#AOEUHGHHH #this is probably just a symptom of caring more ab a single character than the overall story he is a part of tbh #cuz we all know idgaf ab genshin like that #tw suicide

[lucysarah-c]

Little ramble about Chapter 14 and the love square

While I prepare myself for tomorrow's memes and gifs out of context👀​. I wanted to ramble a bit about this chapter, in particular about love square or love triangle (some people don't count Petra's crush as part of the romantic deal).

I wanted to do that if you take Erwin's actions and dialogues to a side without the context, they do not appear "mean" or "angry". The bad connotation conversations between Y/N and Erwin have is purely set up by her mood and perspective. I do believe the only thing in common these two have from that relationship is that Y/N look at Erwin doe-eyed saying "how could you do this to me? Do you see how bad I'm doing, it's all your fault" and, it appears, that Erwin actually thinks "this is all my fault". While I didn't write Erwin's perspective from the party, how he describes it at the end is kind of "How could I hurt someone who I care about so much? she looks so much healthy and happy when I'm not around" Which is not a nice mental state, Erwin knows he fucked up but he just doesn't know how to fix it. Every single time he tries to talk to her, she's so defensive and offended that's practically impossible. We see Erwin waving the white flag multiple times or letting her get away with the last word. But at the same time, he can't help it that he loves Marie way more. A funny fact to point out, everybody is saying "Lucky Levi that Erwin is too busy to notice" because I feel like Y/N has always been (in everybody's eyes) Erwin's girl even before dating. And... let's say that Erwin himself has considered that too. What I am trying to say is that Erwin had never had to "worry about securing" Y/N because there was this implicit rule that she was already his. He doesn't expect anyone to persuade her or Y/N to give space to another man because let's be honest 🤷​ Y/N hasn't shown interest in any other man. I feel Levi's position is "easier" somehow, he doesn't have to forget another lover. He's hurt but is not on a romantic level and that's why it's so much easier for him to unconsciously take a decision or position. He has feelings for Y/N and, even if he doesn't truly accept them or understand them, Levi doesn't really have anyone else at the moment he's close. So for Levi, a person who is protective by nature, feels like taking care of Y/n is just what he has to do. Plus, I do believe not only that Levi's love language is acts of service but Levi in his mentality taking care of your girl is basically what a man does (or at least what during the period of time that the fic takes place seems likely). It's like Levi says "Look at me, I'm so much better at taking care, spoiling you and protecting you that he had ever been". Also haha I do feel Levi is secretly extremely possessive; his crush and his crush's ex-boyfriend spending the day together away from him? Nah uh, he had to mark territory even if it's indirect. The coat isn't only nice and tender considering that she's not feeling well, it's also Levi saying "hang offs! she's mine now!" Y/N... oh my poor poor Y/N. She's a mess, from suffering a mental breakdown to having to reconsider her entire morals and upbrings. But also she has her heart divided in two and that conflicts her even further. She's on bad terms with Erwin but she hasn't forgotten him yet which makes Levi's moves even harder for her. I had this thought while writing her:

"She's scared of being the Erwin's for Levi" Basically, she's scared of moving on with Levi but not forgetting Erwin completely and making Levi play her role in the relationship. The role of the person who just has to accept that they love a person who loves someone else more.

However, she starts to realise that her relationship with Erwin was really idyllic, platonic, and apotheosize. It's like "she was in love with the idea that Erwin fit into her childhood ideal of a man" than actually "in love with the real Erwin". Does that make sense? Petra, while I try to do that Petra's comments about Levi are quite accurate, her love for Levi is how Y/N's love for Erwin was. It's not real, it's just crush. She's in love with the idea of Levi, not Levi. Also, Petra as the youngest of the four is the "third wheel" you may say of the group. Nifa and Nana are "more friends" of Y/N than they are of Petra. So it's natural that they favour Y/N. Plus, it's quite obvious that Y/N is losing patience over Petra's crush because guess what? Y/N is deeply insecure about herself recently and, while she's not sure about her feelings for Levi, she feels like anyone is a competition for keeping him (including her friend) even when it's quite obvious that Levi seems to only be fancying Y/N.

#holy ground #snk levi #levi ackerman #levi #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #captain levi #levi aot #attack on titans #levi x reader #levi x you #erwin smith #levi attack on titan #levi ackeman #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi heichou #captain levi x you #captian levi x reader #captain levi ackerman x reader #captain levi ackerman x y/n #captain levi ackerman #captain levi ackerman x you

[marvelmaniac715]

So this came out of my desire to see Adult Chucky interacting with Child Chucky. I decided that the best way to do that was by adding in a detail to the plot that when Chucky splits his soul (not a transfer, but a split, like when he splits into Nica or the other dolls) he astral projects into his mind and meets younger versions of himself. I don’t know, just thought it would be fun.

————————————————————

The split process was agony. Chucky felt every molecule of his body ripping in half and shooting into the body of Nica Pierce. For a moment he regretted doing it because it was so painful, only for a moment though.

Without warning, he suddenly found himself thrust into an endless black void. When he walked, every footstep echoed loudly. He was alone, or so it seemed. In the distance, he could hear a child crying. 

He would have ignored it, but it was really annoying, and he had no idea why there was a child in this empty void. Could it be Glen? No, Glen had a British accent for some reason, and his cries sounded different. These cries were from an American child.

When Chucky finally found the source of the noise, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His six or seven year old self, crying his eyes out in his little checked pyjamas. This was pretty much the only time in his life where his hair was straight. He couldn’t stand the wailing, so he decided to speak to him.

“Ay, kid, the fuck’s the matter with ya?”

This stopped the crying. Little Chucky (as the doll was now referring to him) looked up in shock and surprise to see a doll talking to him. He sniffled a bit, but finally responded.

“I-I killed my M-mommy! I didn’t mean to but a bad man just k-killed Daddy and I was so scared. The knife was to hurt the bad man, but Mommy hugged me real tight and I panicked! I’m not a bad boy Mister Doll, I’m a good boy! Mommy always said so but now she’s-‘

He cut himself off with more sobbing. It was weird for Adult Chucky to see his origin story told from the perspective of a wimpy little brat. He’d tried to destroy that part of himself as soon as he entered the Boy’s Home. In fact, his therapist Doctor Mixter had encouraged it, saying that he’d only hurt himself more if he allowed himself to be so… soft.

This Little Chucky must have come from just a few seconds after he’d killed his idiot mother. Because for a few seconds after he’d realised what he’d done, he had cried. But looking back, that was so pathetic, the great Charles Lee Ray reduced to tears over a simple stabbing. 

By the time the guy who’d bumped off Daddy Dearest had ambled up the stairs to give Baby Charles his first lesson in murder, he’d steeled his resolve and decided to put on a brave face. He hadn’t taken it off ever since.

In a way, that first kill was a mercy kill. That guy was gonna kill her as soon as he got upstairs, and it wouldn’t be a quick stab to the stomach (a nice, quick death) it would have been repeated stabbings and possibly worse. Even he knew that violating a person in that way was wrong. He wasn’t a monster.

The entire time that Adult Chucky had been exploring his past, Little Chucky had been howling beside him. It was extremely… irritating. He’d never been able to stand kids crying. It made him feel like a terrible person, and the last thing he wanted to do was examine his morals whilst he was on the hunt. He had to shut this kid up, but he was shit at offering comfort. Oh well, he’d try anyway.

“Look, kid, you did that in self defence. Nobody could blame ya. I mean, I did the same. Your life isn’t gonna be the same from now on, bud, you’re gonna have a lot of trouble fitting in, and you’ll constantly move from place to place. When you’re thirty eight you’ll have a really bad accident that will dramatically alter your life forever. But after that, you’ll get married to a… semi-stable chick that you met when you were in your early twenties and have… a kid. It’s not clear whether it’s a boy or girl, but they’re pretty sweet I guess, even if your sort of daughter is a little bit too much like you… Anyway, you feel awful now, but you’ve just done an amazing thing for your future. So put on a brave face, march outta that wardrobe and give ‘em all hell, kid.”

Little Chucky stopped sniffling, wiped his eyes and smiled a little. He still didn’t understand why a doll was talking to him, but he was ready to face the world, no matter what it threw at him.

#chucky #chucky series #charles lee ray #childs play #horror #fanfiction

[dastardly-ethereal-love]

So friends. I am okay but have been so very not okay in the past. I’m reading more of this wonderful ‘Oh,Maker’ world - this time from Aziraphale’s perspective and it is hard hitting for an ex Christian like me.

Here is my looooong comment to the first bloody chapter!

But this is a flaw, a weakness in me. The LORD is righteous, and a jealous God, and I must find a way to be strong enough to witness Her wrath with the same equanimity I witness Her love. I will, one day. If I remain faithful, if I try hard enough. I will be granted that strength.

Those lines. Fuck. It’s so true. It’s how I used to think there must be something wrong with me because god is perfect so why am I not okay with his judgement of gay people or his treatment of women or his killing and punishment of anyone who doesn’t fit his exacting standards. As if Jesus’ sacrifice somehow can cover over whole societies who never knew Jesus or had a chance to accept his very limited opportunity for salvation? Who can accept those terms… who can look at themselves and be okay with being on the ‘winning team’ when so many are forced to ‘lose’. My dad was in a Christian cult that refined that saved number down to some crazy number in Revelation… 144,000? Like ever? It’s arrogance in the extreme. And Aziraphale was created within it. He’s a bloody angel and has no say in it but has to enact it. He watches it unfold.

No words for that level of trauma. How you have him watching the flood and Crowley takes him away and comforts him. How you have him watching 20,000 die in wars between England and France. So much senseless loss of life. You could lose your mind thinking about it. How does any of it make sense?

Anyway… I love your writing and how it shakes out these big questions and reminds you that we as humans have choices. I absolutely choose Crowley now and his way of questioning. I grieved losing my faith but now I’m grateful to have escaped that very limiting frame of thinking. It felt like losing something precious but you said in Oh Maker that it could be the start of something else that is joyful. Maybe not in those words… but I like the honesty and the genuineness that comes with stripping back the layers of indoctrination. I am finding so much more pleasure in simple everyday things now. I’m not forcing myself to do things because they are someone else’s will be it my church minister, a Benedictine monk or my idea of who God is. Haha I’m finding out what my will is. Who I am. It’s nice to connect with myself and find that I like who I am. I am embracing my emotions - sad and hurt as much as happy and joyful and giving them more room to be heard. Not having to paint a bloody happy face on horrible stuff. That’s a relief. Also, not feeling guilty about enjoying things for their own sake. I used to be told off for wasting my time and my labour on meaningless stuff - but life and joy and being alive is not useless! I’m going to art galleries, going to plays, going on holidays to walk under trees and be in nature and connect with who I am. It’s a kind of bliss. It’s a kind of joy. It’s a recognition that I was worth love even if I didn’t earn it. The whole love is given, not earned thing. Killed me. It hit me hard. I was told salvation doesn’t come from works by one side of my faith community and the other side was all ‘cover your head to pray’ and ‘take communion’ and if you don’t do it regularly then you will have no life in you. So it was do this or be cast out but then also, faith alone! But then faith without works is dead… such a horrible tug of war and where was I in any of it?! Like when did the person who I was get a chance to speak? When did I get to move without guilt or obligation pushing me one way or the other?

Gah. Religion is not my favourite. It may work for some but i think my brand of childhood trauma and religion created a bit of a monster. I was ripe for being taken advantage of. I didn’t know what boundaries were and I was just way too ready to sacrifice my whole entire self by becoming a bloody nun. A boy ended up tempting me away from that idea… haha but I was so ready to just give my life away to some other persons idea of the right thing to do. I just so wanted to be good. To be told I was good. Ugggghhh!

/no one was prepared for that level of trauma dumping. Apologies and thanks for sharing your words with the world!

#ao3 fanfic #good omens #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale #crowley #trauma #religious trauma

[suburbanwildernessdeity]

Pardon me for speaking out of turn but I think some people need to understand that therapists can be bad at their jobs just like anyone else. I’ve seen a few posts lately that are like “western therapy culture is ruining women” or whatever and it’s like on one hand I see where you’re coming from? Because sometimes the worst person you know is like “my therapist told me I need to set boundaries and be true to myself so I have to tell you that I hate you because you’re so stupid.”

But on the other hand doesn’t that seem like a fucking stupid thing to say to a client? I think there’s this misguided perception that therapists are supposed to affirm you and help you feel good regardless of how it affects the people around you and I could say a lot about how that’s a result of new-age The Secret type bullshit infecting psychology because the extreme individualism of capitalism leaves no stone unturned but at the end of the day it’s like.

Once you build a relationship with your therapist, there HAS TO come a time where they push you. Therapy should be a safe space but not one that’s completely without risk. That’s why therapists go to school for so fucking long and that’s why therapy is different than just talking to your friends about your problems. There needs to be a combination of validating your perspectives and feelings and helping you face the hard truths that sometimes you are the problem and the solution isn’t to hate yourself or be ashamed but to figure out what happened and try to do better. Recovery and therapy literally do not happen without working on the ways you treat other people.

Unfortunately people have this really stubborn perception that therapy is only about making people feel good and all therapists do is tell you you’re right. First of all, it’s easy for clients to interpret “it’s important to validate your feelings and I understand why you feel that way” as “I’m agreeing that you were right and someone else was wrong.” It’s easy for clients to interpret “you need to hold boundaries with people” while talking about a toxic parent as “you shouldn’t have to compromise with anyone ever” because it’s easier to ignore the feedback and focus on the validation.

Second of all, people training to be therapists are not immune to societal misconceptions of what therapy is or does. The more people spread this misconception that all a therapist does is validate their clients, the more people think being a therapist is easy and all you have to do is tell someone they’re right and they shouldn’t feel bad. Also, the more people spread this misconception, the more people get away with being fucking shitty therapists. If people think that validation is all there is to therapy, they won’t realize that their therapist is incompetent and may be doing more harm than good.

Anyway I know this was an extremely poorly structured and incoherent post but the point is I get why some people might think that when the worst person you know says their therapist told them not to worry so much about being nice, that speaks to the quality of their therapist, not a trait of therapy in general. There are widespread misconceptions and harmful practices woven into therapy, sure, and it’s logistically SUPER difficult for most people to be able to choose a therapist who’s both good at their job AND the right fit for their treatment. It’s also super difficult for most people to tell when a therapist is doing a bad job. I get that. But thinking that “therapy culture” (which I don’t even really believe is a thing? But that’s another post) is “ruining society” or whatever is a weird direction to take things in. It’s like hearing about a pill mill doctor and saying “medicine culture is ruining society.” Yes it’s indicative of some systemic flaws but no it doesn’t mean the field of medicine is ruining society and frankly that’s an extremely weird thing to say

#personal #long post #sorry I’m just like #annoyed #someone in my family has had a therapist who’s super underqualified validating them and encouraging them to do destructive shit lately so li #like #I get it #but so many more members of my family have received lifechanging/lifesaving treatment from therapists #it’s so weird how people see this extension of non-intersectional empowerment culture as being inherent to therapy #like girl that’s just the culture #we are living in a world where you’re encouraged to step on people to get to the top #there is no field that is immune #and it sucks #but it’s so weird to me to say that it’s the fault of therapy?

[pioneeroverc-my-5000th-sideblog]

forgot to do the monthly summary thing three months in a row lol

Summary of October:

Downloaded Leechblock. It helped somewhat. Managed to get all of my non-sketch fills done (14) for Huxloween even while dealing with bad life stuff. Posted bust-up FE fanart semi-regularly on my other Twitter account (~2-4 hours of work). Trying to get commissions on dA and Reddit (no bites yet).

Plan from August :/ :

All monthly/weekly goals for the year ✗

Proko: ribcage ✗

Review all Proko notes ✗

DAB Lesson 7 ✗

Ky/lux reunion piece (mechanical studies) ✓

one vehicle from life a week (20min) ✗

November plan:

All monthly/weekly goals for the year

Proko: ribcage

Review all Proko notes

DAB Lesson 7

One FE fanart every 4 days

Draw N7 Day piece before N7 Day

notes and improvements from finished stuff (Oct):

make notes on figure proportions relating to head ✗ but have been looking it up, USE AT LEAST ONE PHOTO REFERENCE PER PIECE ✗, do some studies (at least one session) on head/neck connection and tilt ✗ I forgot this was a thing but have been tryng to pay attention to it with figure drawing

apples - background details too clean/without width and thickness (like decals), proportions and position in space kinda screwy, background figures distractingly bad

eldritch hux: cigarette got flattened out, hat doesn't fit properly on his head, highlights on belt buckle VERY bad, fucked up face, I do like the composition though

haunted locations: composition got kinda sidelined when I was trying to fit everything I'd drawn in, speeder looks kinda wonky because the perspective was very difficult, inconsistent use of spot blacks, do like the colours though

bonfire: hands unreferenced and thus screwed up, fucked up faces (nose tip always looks wrong), clothing thickness/folds abysmal

demons: values too indistinct (needs more contrast), hux's arm looks too short, really bad hands, bits got cut off and I didn't resize the canvas, shading looks awful, scroll is flat even though I tried to make it not so

manuela: face w/ open mouth looks kinda unfocussed, otherwise pretty ok

valter: armour lost its form, otherwise pretty ok for what it is

vampires: very messy & confusing colours, anatomy fucked up (ribcage is flat and too long), bad hands that don't look like they're interacting with the chair properly, props for trying this much detail in perspective though

ghosts: luke doesn't look like he's standing on the floor (looks rotated upwards a little), room feels bare and undetailed, could have used more embellishment on the items, nice composition with leading lines and contrast though

curse: hands look awful because I don't know how to render shiny materials, shading on face kinda weirdly simplified, shading on body and clothing folds makes no sense, lost dynamism of sketch due to having to apply correct anatomy

scrying: extremely messy lineart, values somewhat unclear, bad use of linework to express texture (like in the gas tank), sense of scale a bit smaller than I intended (should have made bg people smaller), I do like the concept and details though

knoll and lyon: proportions ABSOLUTELY FUCKED (lyon's legs are like twice the length they should be), very stiff poses, vacant expressions, too many gaps in lineart (rebelle's fault though), clothing folds all completely wrong, colour too messy

orochimaru: vacant expression, scales on snake look awful and flatten it out, weird pose, you can see where I gave up on drawing the flowers, face is flat, nose tip doesn't extend enough

ritual: kylo's back looks like it's bulging, overall very messy, foreground vine merges with hux in the midground, statue hands suck, figures too simplified compared to background, overall scene easy to understand though

trick/treat: faces look gormless, kylo's chest has no depth to it, hands look squishy, kylo's pose hard to read, the knife is hard to place in space (looks like it's occupying the same space as hux's arm), nice details and lineart though

ACTIONABLES: try to find photo reference for expressions, do Proko ribcage lesson, draw and detail with linework everyday objects

#end of month

[erodasfishtacos]

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

-

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

--

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

-

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

-

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

--

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

if you’ve ask to be on my taglist and you’re not here - please check your settings because i’ve tried to add you and it didn’t work.

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar @hopefullimaginer123 @harrysmatcha @weaslettesstuff @saintsmotels @hi-yekaterina @aubreyfineline @harrysgoldenbum @ebstylesx @goldeng1rl8 @tnqueen @percysaidnever @bebecalpal @virtuallybaby @rbforsmileycal @televisionboy @evanjh @lolzskye @haroldpotterson @pandxthings @leeroysdancer @summersylesxplr @cherriesrae 

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #Harry styles writing request #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles dad #dad!harry #husband!harry #harry styles husband #mlbrry #mlb!harry masterlist #mlb!Harry blurbs #mlb!harry #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #erodasfishtacos masterlist #harry styles masterlist #harry styles tour #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic recommendation

[liketheinferno2]

I've been chronically fucking exhausted since the good ol' sleep phobia's been acting up but I will try to assemble thoughts betwixt images okay? Okay.

First off: I've seen people talk about Shadowbringers like some impossible lightning in a bottle with no concept of how it could be replicated, and frankly that's an insult to this writing team's chops and the insane amount of build up there was leading to this. ShB is Heavensward: 2 and it's that because Heavensward already WORKED. They did it more and betterer. The basic character triad from Heavensward is expanded to the best it can possibly be. You've got:

1. Good boy with a twist; your friendly character who is obviously and suspiciously going through a lot of shit off screen that he hides from you; guy who is diverting the suffering inflicted on these characters towards himself and pays for it by being horrifically kidnapped by the bad boy he was previously on functional terms with. (G'raha, Estinien)

2. Bad boy with the twist; the villain, an extremely depressed extremely old man who, while greatly destructive, is able to plead the case for his various crimes against the other characters via the fact that his immortal anger and grief are completely justified and even the other characters are brought to sympathise with that loneliness. (Emet, Nidhogg)

3. Long suffering headmate weirdo who's visible only to the WOL and offers them gentle guidance and support along with his unique perspective, eventually stepping up to help them fight back against the villain and rescue poor good-boy. (Ardbert, Midgardsormr)

Bonus round: Ryne fills the sad baby slot that Alphinaud did in HVW, although she's not your baby this time and that's okay. "Your baby" is not a character type that can just keep happening, but it's cool to have a cute teenage character go through their personal development, so she gets assigned to Thancred to pull double duty and help tie up the loose plot threads about him being a mourning father that were never properly addressed.

These four are without a doubt the highlights among the new characters, and then the rest of the spectacle is in the characters we already know and love being elevated to the best they can be. The off-color humor about Thancred's trauma being swept away and replaced with background gags about sleeping around and drinking himself sick is no longer a joke, that's part of the character. Y'shtola's sight becomes relevant after 2 expansions of forgetting about it and she starts to act more like Y'shtola. The twins are growing up, Alphinaud's acting like a big brother and Alisaie's expressing the full force of her emotions in a way that feels not "fiery" but genuinely triggered, sometimes. Urianger gets such uniquely textured relationships that bring the sheer weirdness of his character into the spotlight in a way that finally feels like it fits. These characters are like old friends now and it's fantastic to see them hit their potential.

And considering the actual base plot of Shadowbringers digs into a lot of stuff that is pulled straight from zombie movie setups, it's certainly not originality that makes it so fantastic. Nay, the opposite. It's the way this installment takes all the most beloved parts from previous sections and other things people already like, fills it with strong and emotionally intense characters and then threads it all together with a singular clarity of purpose -- if we are fighting for those we have lost; for those we can yet save? Emet-Selch does the exact opposite. He is fighting so those he has lost can be found, as impossible as that should be.

The Scions' mantra is that of mourning and acceptance; Emet only wants to deny his losses so profoundly that denial is made physical. See: Amaurot under the sea. They say it outright that everyone's purpose here is to see the lives of their loved ones protected, but Emet doesn't have any left, for all the pieces of the people he loved are now shattered parts that became the people you love now, so these missions are diametrically opposed.

Something really incredible to me about Emet-Selch is just how well he fits in this story, and how he could never ever fit in any other. Another incredible thing is what they did with him and Nidhogg -- making such impossible huge scale levels of angst feel relatable and understandable to the little human brain of the audience. You walk into Amaurot and just feel hollow under the weight of it, the immediate understanding of how lonely someone would have to be to make this. He accidentally gave the illusions here sentience because he thought a little too hard about how much he missed them. It's horrible. You're just walking around in your fucking FEELS.

The thing about G'raha that's incredible is how specific his feelings are and how well they get them across regardless. He loves the WOL. He cannot allow the WOL to love him back, because he knows (or at least thinks) that he will die soon, and doesn't want to hurt them any more than he has to. His attempts to divert the love away are failing, though, because all he has the heart to reject is your attempts to know him, and even then not for very long. There's this whole conversation where he talks about some guy you've never met that he's apparently in love with and is very obviously hiding that it's YOU.

Real "Kiss me, you fool!" moment here. Barring all else FFXIV is a bi boy heaven simulator.

So yeah Shadowbringers was damn near perfect, but I've hit image limit. This is a good fucking video game. GOATed with the sauce one might say. THE CATBOY'S EARS TWITCH, GUYS. YOU TELL HIM YOU'RE GLAD HE'S OKAY AND HE STARTS SOBBING. GOD.

#dante plays catboy simulator #let him speak #meta

[jackrrabbit]

cuffing season /// Ushijima x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: [Shiratorizawa fanweek day 5—Firsts] You convince your boyfriend to try something new in the bedroom, but as it turns out, old habits die hard.

A/N: Heard it was Shiratorizawa week 👀 technically I did originally post this on day 5, but I had to repost bc of tag issues, whoops :P Let’s pray it works this time!! edit: apparently it’s still not listed in the tags :<

The song that I mention is Bruno Major’s Old Fashioned (although it doesn’t fit the tone of this fic in the least).

Tags/warnings: mild bondage, size kink, rough sex!!!, marking (bruises/hickeys/etc.), power play/power exchange, reader tries & fails to dom Mr. Ushijima 😳, all characters are adults

Look, Ushijima’s a great boyfriend. Perfect, almost. Sure, he may not be the most expressive guy, but you’ve been dating him long enough that you’re able to pick up on the little gestures that tell you that he cares about you—the way he presses his face into your hair when you hug him after you’ve been apart for a while; his hands stroking circles into your skin when you fall asleep in bed next to him; all of it. He’s everything you could possibly look for in a man, except for one not-so-little issue:

The sex.

Because Ushijima, your sweet, wonderful boyfriend, who kisses you so gently it’s like he thinks you’ll fall apart if he’s not infinitely careful with you, is for some reason incapable of exercising the same degree of restraint (or any restraint at all) when you’re in bed together. When it comes to sex, your boyfriend is a fucking animal. And you’re not really sure how much more you can handle.

Maybe your concerns would seem petty from an outsider’s perspective. It’s not like Ushijima doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and it’s not like you don’t want to have sex. You’re attracted to him, of course you are! Almost 76 inches and 190 pounds of pure muscle, a body that looks like Michelangelo could have carved it from marble, and that beautifully solemn expression that had you salivating over him from the stands before you even knew his name? You want to have sex with him, you’re just fairly certain you can’t, not when it always ends up with you completely and utterly wrecked, so spent you don’t even have the strength to lift your hips off the mattress so he can wipe his cum off your thighs.

Look, anyone in your position would feel the same way. It’s awful and you’ll never admit it to him, but you almost broke up with him after the first time you two fucked. You knew going in that it wouldn’t be easy—the man radiates big dick energy and boy did he deliver—but it was just too much.

That first time had started off so innocuously, with you inviting him to your place for a nightcap after your sixth date. You’d set candles and put on your romantic sex playlist for a nice backdrop to let him hold you in his lap and make out—how the hell had you gone from that to having him rut you into the mattress, your belly pressed into the sheets and ass arched up so he could pound into you so forcefully that your rickety bed smacked into the wall hard enough to rattle the furniture with every movement, and you couldn’t even hear it over the sound of your own moaning? You hadn’t changed the playlist, and it felt downright obscene to listen to Bruno Major croon about love and courtship while Ushijima fucked into you like he was trying to carve the shape of his cock into your pussy.

You’d had to call in sick the next day because you could barely walk. The bruises from where he held your hips had taken weeks to fade, and by that time he’d already given you new ones. To his credit, Ushijima felt bad when he saw the evidence of how rough he’d been and he promised to take it easy on you next time…but after a few more rounds of mind-numbingly savage sex you learned that the man apparently doesn’t know what ‘take it easy’ means.

To be fair, at least some of it is your fault. You really shouldn’t have offered to go on the pill as a three-month anniversary present to him. At least before, he had to give you a break while he changed condoms after he came; now he has no reason to hesitate, instead going for round two (and sometimes round three) without pulling out. You never thought you’d see superhuman stamina as a bad thing, but…

“You don’t get it! It’s like getting fucked by a stallion. I need to plan to have three days to recover whenever I take him home with me,” you whined to your friends over cocktails when they told you you shouldn’t complain about a good thing—after all, Ushijima is just as committed to your pleasure as he is to his own, and there’s never been an occasion where he didn’t get you off before fucking you himself (probably at least a little because there’s no way in hell you’d be relaxed enough to take him otherwise).

“Can’t you just tell him to go slower?” one of your friends asked. “If he doesn’t listen to you, then that’s fucked up and you need to dump him.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t listen. If I tell him to stop, he stops,” you sighed, stirring your drink with the straw and watching the decorative sprig of mint fall under the surface to be overtaken by a chip of ice. “It’s like he can’t go slower. He’s not adjustable—it’s either crazy brutal or nothing, and then neither of us get what we want. Like a vibrator you can’t turn off the highest level. I don’t even think he realizes in the moment how intense it is for me.”

“Aren’t you ever on top? You can set the pace.”

“I’ve tried, but Ushi just—“ you made a gripping motion with your hands and mimicked raising something up and setting it down vigorously— “like, bounces me.”

One of them raised an eyebrow and then her eyes widened. She turned to your other friend and the two of them whispered to each other for a bit, then shifted back to you. “Tie him up,” she said with the air of an elder imparting sage knowledge, and your other friend nodded.

“Oh, come on.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious. Guys usually love it when girls are in control, you just need to take the initiative. Get him tied down and then you can show him exactly how you like it. Let him feel like he’s at your mercy for once.”

The idea had seemed unthinkable at the time, but you hadn’t been able to forget it—which is why after weeks of contemplation, hours of research, and a single extremely awkward trip to a sex shop, you’re now crouching over Ushijima’s naked chest, wrapping a leather cuff around one of his wrists.

“Are you sure that this is something you want to do?” Ushijima asks in that weighty baritone that makes you shiver with need. He doesn’t pull away, but he eyes your actions warily as you thread the chain of the cuffs around a rung in the center of your headboard and reach over to do the other side.

“…Yes,” you tell him, a little less firmly than you would have liked, and you lick your lips to try to make up for how suddenly dry your mouth is. “Anyway, isn’t that my line? We don’t have to do the cuffs if you don’t want to. I won’t force you.”

“It’s alright. You and I both know you couldn’t force me, (Y/N).” Dark eyes pin you down and it’s incredibly unfair how much power he has over you even when he’s the one chained to the bed.

Ushijima’s right, obviously—if he didn’t want to be exactly where he is right now, he wouldn’t be. You’re sure as hell not strong enough to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Okay then…good,” you reply, adjusting the straps of the cuffs to accommodate for how stupidly thick his wrists are. When you’re satisfied that they won’t chafe but he can’t get out of them without your help, you sit back next to his chest and admire your handiwork. Ushijima lays on his back, naked, relaxed, even with his arms stretched up to your headboard and cuffed there. He looks good, mouthwateringly good, and you’re ready to get your hands on him when you remember there’s something you need to get straight first. “Wait, before we—before I do anything, remember— what do you say if you want me to stop?”

“…Vanilla,” Ushijima says, reciting the safeword you decided on when you were hammering out details, although the look in his half-lidded eyes is telling you very clearly that he has no intention of needing to use it.

Privately you agree, but everything you’ve read on the kink blogs you’ve been trolling for research tells you that a responsible adult doesn’t put cuffs on their partner without deciding on a safeword first, and you’re determined to do this by the book. “Good boy,” you say, and the diminutive feels awkward in your mouth until you see Ushijima’s reaction—the flash in his eyes, a minuscule hitch in his breathing next to you, and the scrape of metal against wood as he gives a light pull at the cuffs.

With everything safe and accounted for, you give a final tug to the chain to ensure it’s secure, then inch back and swing one leg over the broad expanse of his chest so you’re straddling his abdomen (and he’s so damn big that there’s a twinge of soreness in your thighs just from sitting on top of him). Fuck, he looks good like this, all spread out and pinned underneath you, so masculine and bulky that you’re feeling your pussy get wet just from watching him watching you.

It’s not often you get to appreciate him like this—usually you’re too focused on not losing your mind from how deeply he’s fucking you—so you savor it, massaging his shoulders and sliding your fingers down his sides, tracing the smooth skin with a feather-light touch and then dipping to kiss under his jaw. Feeling more than a little devious, you let your teeth graze over the thin skin at the base of his neck and with your chest pressed into his, it’s not hard to feel his sharp intake of breath.

“The marks...my teammates will notice.”

“Maybe I should stop, then,” you murmur against his skin, lifting up just enough to brush over his nipples. He stiffens, and once again you hear him tugging at the cuffs.

“…Don’t. I want them to see,” Ushijima says, and once you have his permission you don’t waste any time in latching your mouth to his skin and sucking. It’s been ages since you’ve given anyone a hickey. Usually you’re the one marked up like a teenager after Ushijima has his way with you, so this is a nice change of pace, especially when you can feel him flexing underneath you.

Well, kissing is nice…but you’re getting impatient and you know he is too. Once you’re satisfied that your hickeys are going to show up nice and bright red around his neck like a collar, you sit back, walking your hands back on his chest, stroking over his abdomen and giving a little roll of your ass on top of him. Ushijima’s hips twitch—unconsciously, you wonder?—and he glares at you in a way that tells you in no uncertain terms to hurry up and let him fuck you.

And damn it, something about that look has you feeling weak. Needy. Obedient. But this time you’re supposed to be in charge, so you smirk and lift your hips, pulling your body back so his cock is nestled between your legs, not quite touching your pussy. He’s already hard—no surprises there, considering how intently he’s watching you as you mess with him—but you only take a second to stroke his cock up and down before shifting up so he can see you slick your fingers up in your own pussy.

“(Y/N)…” Ushijima’s voice is low, annoyed, and he looks hungry. But you’re so amazed at how wet you are under your own fingers that you don’t bother to pay attention to him shifting his position under you to try to get stimulation. Your juices are literally slicking up your own thighs, just from chaining up your boyfriend and teasing him a little? You should have done this a long time ago.

You push two fingers into your pussy and pump them a few times, making sure to angle your hips so Ushijima can see them go in and out. The stretch is almost uncomfortable for a second and you wince a little before schooling your expression, knowing you’re about to have something a lot bigger than two fingers stretching you open. Ushijima catches it though, and he frowns, trying to sit up before remembering the cuffs that are holding him back. “Let me—let me do it for you—“

“No, stay down,” you say quickly, using your other hand to push him back into the mattress while you continue to touch yourself. Ushijima lets you (and there’s no doubt in your mind that he is letting you), but his eyes narrow as he zeroes in on the way your fingers are glistening with your own pussy juices.

God, you’re—you’re supposed to be in control, aren’t you? So then you shouldn’t be feeling like this, eyes drifting closed as you fuck yourself on your fingers, letting your lower knuckles rub against your clit while you try to curl them to rub against your g-spot. Ushijima’s been spoiling you…you can’t remember the last time you’ve had to do this yourself, and as you feel the tension building up slowly you catch yourself wishing it were him fingering you instead.

His fingers are just so thick. And long, and so rough. You bite your lip thinking about the way he does it when he preps you to take his cock, mashing his palm into your clit, petting along inside you and scissoring his fingers and… “Mmh,” you hum, holding back a real moan for Ushijima’s sake.

There’s another click of the chain sliding over the headboard wood and it reminds you that he’s right there, you could just uncuff him and he could touch you and fill you up with those thick fingers, make you cum, make you cry. But the urge to seek your own pleasure is outweighed by the image he’s making as he looks at you, his expression almost angry in its intensity now that he’s watching you do this to yourself and he has no way to get his hands on you.

“Ahh—“ you whine, letting a real whimper out at the thought of what you’re doing to him. “Ushi, Ushi, do you wanna touch? Wanna touch me?”

His head ducks into a hasty nod and his jaw clenches at the strain of having to ask for what he wants instead of just taking it like usual.

The longer you touch yourself, the closer you’re getting…but you don’t want to cum, not just yet. You draw your fingers out of your dripping cunt and open them up in a V, showing off the juices that connect them, the evidence of how wet you are for him. “Mmm, I don’t think so. I think there’s something else I want in me instead.”

And then you’re reaching to the side for the lube, squeezing a healthy dollop into your palm and then wrapping your hand around Ushiijma’s cock. And—fuck, he’s big. Sure, you’ve had sex with him plenty, but no matter how often you take him, you never stop feeling absolutely torn up after. A tingle of trepidation races up your spine at the thought of riding him like this—can you even put it in by yourself?

Even just looking at it is intimidating. He’s painfully hard, cock flushed red and bobbing up against his lower stomach every time you let it go, and, Jesus, how is it even possible that this thing would fit inside you? When you wrap your hand around him your fingers don’t touch; he must be thicker around than your own wrist.

Halfway. That’ll going to be your goal tonight, to take him halfway. And even that…is going to be a stretch.

The anxiety must show on your face because once again you’ve got Ushijima straining at the cuffs. “(Y/N)—“ he spits as you stroke him up, nudging your palm against the tip. “(Y/N), you need to finish first. Let me make you cum.”

“No, this time I want to—I’m gonna cum on your cock,” you say, adjusting your position so you’re kneeling above him, the head of his cock sliding between your lips. “Gonna cum on your big cock, Ushi, okay?”

His cock jumps in your hand at the provocation. He’s glaring at you, but he’s also leaking precum, the sticky fluid mixing with the lubricant. You give Ushijima a moment to say the safeword if he really doesn’t want you to, and when he stays quiet you raise yourself up a little more and line the head of his cock up with your weeping slit. You hold your pussy lips open with your fingers, easing your thighs down and pressing the head into you and—

“Oh—oh—oh, fuck, oh fuck, Ushi—“ you stutter out helplessly.

It’s been almost two weeks since he last fucked you. One week, six days and about three hours, and at the moment this measure of time seems unreasonably important because it’s been almost two weeks since you last let Ushijima split you in half with his ridiculously huge cock.

You’re not ready, should’ve prepped more, should’ve let him make you cum like he said—fuck, it feels like you’re losing your virginity—and the mixture of dismay and relief that spills over you when the thick swell of his head pushes past that tight ring of muscle is almost nauseating.

The tip? Seriously, just the fucking tip, and you’re already delirious, shaking, your thighs quivering on either side of his. It’s taking all of your strength to keep from going slack—but you know if you do, his whole cock is going to slide up into you and even thinking about that has your cunt clenching and unclenching around what you’re able to fit inside.

“Do you need help?” Despite the strain in Ushijima’s voice at being teased like this, there’s an undercurrent of amusement. He clearly doesn’t have faith in your ability to take him deeper by yourself.

It’s this—this quiet arrogance, this belief that he knows what’s best for you and he’s the only one who can give it to you—that gives you the guts to convince yourself to lower yourself down onto his his cock until you’re literally gasping for air. It fucking hurts, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing you say it; instead, you brace your hands against the stiff muscle of his chest and try to focus on the way his cockhead is pressing into your g-spot.

Halfway…he’s gotta be at least halfway in, right? You sneak a glance up at him and bite back a curse at the look on his face, serious as ever, so focused on the place where your pussy is reluctantly eating up his cock that you feel your insides tense up around him again.

You don’t even know how it’s possible for you to get tighter around him but somehow you must be able to, because you hear Ushijima grunt underneath you, and his muscles contract under your palms as he tries again to sit up. When he can’t, he hisses in frustration. “Move…now. Or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Funny, aren’t you supposed to be the one controlling him? But it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way when you’re barely able to stay upright just from trying to ride his cock. You nod desperately, chin jutting up and down like a bobblehead, and lift your hips up off his cock until just the tip is left inside. When you push yourself back down you can’t help whimpering at the feeling of him stretching you, sliding up into you, that stiff, wet cockhead dragging over your g-spot.

By now the pain has faded into an uncomfortable stretch, like leaning too heavily into a foreign pose in yoga, enough that you’re able to feel the arousal building in the pit of your belly and hold onto it as you rock your hips up and down him. The pace is slow—almost too slow; you marvel at yourself for wanting it faster—and there’s a fair amount of Ushijima’s cock that you’re not able to take, but this is really all you can handle.

“Mmm, Ushi, fuck, you’re so big, so big and hard inside me, feels so good on your cock—“ you moan, knowing you sound less like the dominant partner in this position and more like you’re teasing him, pushing his limits.

Ushijima’s breathing is heavy. Labored. He’s trying to hold himself back. “(Y/N), deeper—take me deeper, now.”

Part of your brain vaguely recognizes that he isn’t supposed to be giving the orders here, but you’re too drunk on the feeling of fucking yourself on his cock to complain, so you lower your hips and try, but it feels like you’re just too weak to do it yourself. “Ushi please, it’s too much, too big, I can’t, please—“

And your pleading must sound like an invitation, because his eyes flash and you feel him shifting the position of his legs behind you—and then he bucks his hips up and his cock sinks into your cunt, pushing up into your gooey insides until the head is pressing into the tight opening of your cervix.

“Ahn—?” you squeal, startled. What? He—what? Fuck, it’s deep, it’s so deep, you can’t hold yourself up so you flop downward, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, “ohhh Ushi pleasepleaseplease” and you barely hear yourself over the lubed-up slap of his pelvis against your skin.

Fuck, it feels like he’s knocking the breath out of you. Feels like you can’t fucking breathe like his cock isn’t just pushing against your stomach but your lungs too, can’t breathe so you bear down on his shoulders try to hold yourself up try to let yourself adjust but—

Ushijima’s in control now.

Not that he ever wasn’t, you’d think if you were capable of thinking except you’re not because as you try to situate yourself make yourself relax around that monster cock filling you up, he’s not giving you a moment to catch your breath, instead thrusting up into you at his usual breakneck pace. Apparently he doesn’t need to use his hands to make you bounce—you’re not even moving yourself now, just trying to hold still as his hips slam his cock inside you again and again and again, and again, rubbing up against that sweet spot in your pussy so quickly that you think you might go crazy from it.

“Nngh, so tight,” he growls, and you can tell from the way the words are choked out that he’s gritting his teeth. You almost want to roll your eyes—of course you’re tight, anyone would feel tight around him—but it feels like if you do your eyes might roll back in your head so you don’t.

Jesus fuck, you can’t even understand how long it’s been but you do know that it’s absurd for you to want to cum already, only the thick mass of his cock pushing into you is somehow hitting all the right buttons, just like it always does. Even if it’s rough you want more. By now you’re trying to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips in time with him fucking you open, doing your best to participate but really it’s all you can do to even stay still with how roughly he’s fucking you. “Ushi, fuck, so deep, wanna cum I wanna cum please let me cum—“

“Touch yourself,” he commands breathlessly because he’s still tied to the headboard and he can’t do it, and you barely have the strength to pick one of your hands up off of where you’re scratching into his shoulder and pull it down to rub at your clit.

It’s not enough and you whimper desperately, you don’t want your own fingers, you want Ushijima’s, you want him to touch you. You’re probably saying it out loud by now, begging him to put his hands on you—his eyes widen and then the sound of the metal cuff chain grating over wood reaches you—you can see the skin of his wrists get lighter from lack of blood flow, he’s pulling at the cuffs, pulling too hard, he’s going to hurt himself, you have to stop him—and then you hear a snap.

Aw, shit. The bed.

The thought comes in a singular moment of clarity as you watch the rung Ushijima’s chained to separate itself from the rest of the headboard, splintering, the nail that held it in place looking pathetically flimsy next to the veins bulging in his arms as he slides the chain away from it. He flexes his hands, forming fists and then unclenching them to restore the interrupted blood flow, and then you’ve only got a second to prepare yourself before he’s upright, dragging your hips up to meet his.

“Ushi, Ushi, Ushi, I want, please, I want you,” you beg, but you didn’t really have to because you’re pretty sure there’s no force on Earth that could stop him from holding you up so he can fuck down into you with a ferocity that could be mistaken for anger if you weren’t certain it was really lust.

The entire bed is creaking and rocking against the force of his movement, but you don’t really have the headspace to worry about more property damage considering he’s got you supporting yourself on the mattress on your back and shoulders, your spine curled up so he can kneel and still have your hips aligned with his, your legs dangling bonelessly on either side of him.

Fuck. Holy fuck. You open your mouth but words don’t come out, only a choked whimper, but if you could speak you’d be saying yesyesyesyesyes, touch me.

Despite your inability to speak, Ushijima picks up on what you need and then along with his cock carving its way in and out of you you’re getting the feeling of his fingers padding over your clit. Rough and callused, not gentle, nothing like the way you touched yourself earlier, but you’re starting to realize you don’t mind the aggression. In fact, it’s good, it’s so good, so good you’re gonna cum.

You’re gonna cum.

A long, drawn-out whine is spilling out of your lips before you can stop it; you wrap your hand over your own mouth out of shame or maybe courtesy to your neighbors (although by now they’ve probably invested in earplugs after listening to you squeal like a pig on Ushijima’s cock dozens of times in the past). Still, as your climax rocks through you shove your thumb between your teeth to bite down on it, but the sharp pain is nothing compared to the pleasure.

“Ushiiiii—“ you sob around your own fingers. Your spine arches—or rather, you try to arch your back but you can’t, not with Ushijima’s full body weight pressing into you and keeping you pinned to the mattress.

It hurts, it feels good, you’re seeing stars, you’re hearing Ushijima snarl as your pussy tightens up and convulses on his cock. His one-handed grip on your ass gets painfully tight as he abandons whatever pretense of restraint he had left and pumps his cock into you so hard and fast you’re pretty sure the headboard isn’t going to be the only thing broken, but you don’t fucking care because you’re cumming, you’re cumming, you’re cumming so hard you think you black out for a second, holy fuck.

It’s only when you hear Ushijima’s panting breath and feel him pulling your hand away from your mouth that you regain your grip on reality. “You’re bleeding,” he says, holding your hand up and inspecting the shallow indentations your teeth made on your thumb.

“…You broke my bed,” you reply tiredly once you’ve gotten in a lungful of air, what feels like the first full breath you’ve been able to take since he put his cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” Ushijima tells you, although he doesn’t look particularly sorry.

You roll your eyes. “Did you cum?”

“Yes. When you did.” Without him holding you up there’s nothing to prevent you from sliding down off his softening (but still unfairly impressive) cock. You’re certainly not strong enough to keep yourself in position.

Even if he hadn’t confirmed it, you’d still be able to feel the familiar heat of his semen plastering your insides, and once your still-sensitive pussy is exposed to the cool air your inner muscles squeeze involuntarily but hard enough to force some of his cum out—you sense it, hot and thick, dripping out of your pussy to smear against your thighs. “Can we take a bath?” you ask, knowing you’ll barely be able to walk over to the bathroom, much less stand under the shower unassisted.

Ushijima nods and moves off the bed. “I can carry you,” he adds when you try to stand up and your knees almost give out before you flop back onto the mattress.

At this angle, with you sitting and him standing in front, it’s difficult not to see that despite cumming literally less than two minutes ago, he’s already getting stiff again. Jesus, is he even human? After how hard you just came, the thought of letting him fuck you again is giving you something stronger than butterflies, but you look up at him and offer anyway. “Wait, do you…um, want to go for another round?”

Ushijima’s gaze meets yours and then travels over your body underneath him. You must look like a mess—sweaty, hair all fucked up and tangled, body still shaking with the aftershocks of your climax and barely able to sit comfortably on your aching pussy—and you guess he sees how jittery (nervous?) you feel because for the first time since your relationship started, he shakes his head to turn down an offer of sex. “No, I’ll take care of it. Let’s clean up first.”

“Okay,” you sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and raising your arms to let him pick you up.

“(Y/N).”

When Ushijima doesn’t move to carry you, you frown. “Hm?”

“The cuffs.”

Oh, right. The black leather is wrapped around both of his wrists, chain still intact. Apparently these cuffs are stronger than your headboard. Good quality. Too bad they’re going in the trash. You make quick work of the release and then undo the straps carefully, massaging over the light pink marks on your boyfriend’s wrists once they’re free.

“Sorry, did it hurt you? I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just wanted…” You trail off, feeling infinitely embarrassed that despite all your claims of dominating him, he still ended up with the upper hand, cuffs or no cuffs. And you liked submitting to him. There’s no denying that.

“It didn’t. And…I enjoyed having you on top,” Ushijima tells you, lifting you effortlessly into a princess-carry now that his arms are free.

“Yeah right. We’re never using those again,” you scoff, tucking your head into his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. “My boss is going to get mad that I keep taking sick days every time I have sex with you. I’m just going to throw the cuffs out.”

From your position, so close to him, you can barely see the upward quirk of his mouth that would be as good as laughter for anyone else. “Don’t get rid of them. I think…next time, I would like to have you wearing them, (Y/N).”

Well, fuck.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #ShiratorizawaFanweek2020 #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq #hq!! #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushiwaka #ushiwaka x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu!! imagines

[theggning]

I Hate the Alternate Ending of Blind Betrayal, and Here's Why!

DISCLAIMER THE FIRST: Massive spoilers for Fallout 4 abound. This post discusses Blind Betrayal, a quest with suicide as a heavy theme. Content warning applies.

DISCLAIMER THE SECOND: This post discusses cut OFFICIAL content from Fallout 4 that has since been repurposed into multiple mods. I am not criticizing any modders or their implementations of this content. Mods are fun and people can enjoy whatever the hell kind of game experience they want with whatever mods they want.

I am ONLY interested in discussing the original cut content as Bethesda had written it, and how it would have impacted the story and lore of Fallout 4.

So, yeah, it seems there was originally going to be another way to conclude Blind Betrayal (BB).

As described in this Kotaku article (citing this post by Tumblr user tentacle-explosion,) there are unused audio files of Danse’s dialogue that show an alternate ending to his pivotal quest. These lines are the only evidence we have of this ending (suggesting that it was cut fairly early on, as no other actors/characters seem to have recorded for it.)

From what we can tell, in this alternate ending of BB, Danse comes up with a possible way out of the sticky situation re: his identity as a synth. According to the Brotherhood Litany, he is able to challenge Maxson’s authority as Elder via combat. If you agree to this idea, you go with Danse to challenge Maxson. The Paladin and the Elder duel one another, Danse wins, and Maxson dies. Then Danse names the Sole Survivor the new Elder-- or with a hard charisma check, you’re able to convince Danse to take the job himself. It is unknown how the main plot would have progressed beyond this point, as there is no other evidence of what being (or influencing) the Elder would have been like or what choices it would have given you.

There is understandable disappointment in learning that this ending was cut. Choices in games are great, and it could have been fun to have multiple different options for how to resolve the quest. In many gaming circles, people complain that this theoretical ending is superior to the one we got and shouldn’t have been axed. The Kotaku article calls it a “way better” ending, and you’ll see many players lamenting that it wasn’t implemented, saying Bethesda was bad at writing for cutting it, etc.

So why did Bethesda get rid of the Elder ending of BB?

In December 2020, after the Fallout 4 Cast Reunion, Danse’s voice actor Peter Jessop answered questions in a private signing session on his Instagram. Peter Jessop is an extremely kind and gracious man, an avid gamer, and a huge fan of Fallout. During the stream, he reflected on the alternate ending and remembered recording the lines, but stated the content was ultimately cut because Bethesda decided it was lore-breaking.

Peter Jessop is right. Bethesda was right. The Elder ending of BB is a bunch of dumb nonsense. It sucks, I hate it, and I’m glad they got rid of it. And now I’m going to tell you why!

SIDENOTE: King Shit of Fuck Mountain

There is no wrong way to play a single-player video game. If you are having fun, then you are accomplishing the task for which the game was made. Good for you! Play it on easy. Play it on hard. Mod it. Speedrun it. Make up an intricate roleplaying scenario. Perform “challenge” runs. Kill everybody you see. Ignore the story and run around collecting wheels of cheese. Games are meant to be fun and there is nothing wrong with enjoying a game however you damn well please. This is especially true for RPGs like Fallout, which are designed with player freedom in mind.

There is an RPG playstyle I like to call King Shit of Fuck Mountain: a naked power fantasy in which your protagonist is the most powerful person ever, even beyond normal RPG plot significance. Through brute strength, incredible charisma, or having completed tons of quests for world-breaking artifacts and weapons, your character wields godlike influence, able to control people, factions, and the fabric of the world itself. A game enables KSoFM gameplay when it allows the player limitless freedom to gain as much power as they like with zero consequences to plot or storytelling.

A great example of this is the Dragonborn in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. If the player chooses to pursue every questline in the game, one single person can become Harbinger of the Companions, Archmage of the College of Winterhold, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Nightingale and Guildmaster of the Thieves’ Guild, hero of the Imperial/Stormcloak army, the chosen one of like, 11 different Daedric princes, a bard, a Blade, and otherwise just, absurdly goddamn powerful in completely unrealistic ways. And that’s not counting DLCs. A fully-kitted-out Dragonborn is King Shit of Fuck Mountain.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with playing KSoFM if you like to. But I’m not a big fan of this style, personally. Sure, my first Skyrim character became KSoFM while I was figuring out the game, but after my first playthrough I preferred my characters become coherent figures in the story of the world. I pick one or two character traits and things that my Dragonborn is good at, focus on them, and make them part of some overall story. My honorable Imperial paladin werewolf is in the Companions, and hunts vampires on principle. My Argonian sneaky archer is a gleeful thief, but would never jive with the College or the Dark Brotherhood. I like creating protagonists who fit into these settings immersively. I don’t care about power fantasies or being in charge. I don’t WANT my character to be all-powerful, because that ruins my immersion and my little story.

Additionally, in a plot-driven story-focused game like Fallout, KSoFM tears the narrative apart. Skyrim is fairly light on story, so the Dragonborn can be the leader of the Companions and the Dark Brotherhood and whatever other factions without any of them noticing or caring. But FO4’s themes, faction drama, and the main thrust of the plot don’t work at all if the Sole Survivor is able to become too powerful or too influential. The Sole Survivor cannot become the leader of every faction, solve every problem, or eliminate every inconvenient bend of the conflict because it makes the lore of the entire setting implode. Thus, the game forces you to choose between factions. You cannot be with the Minutemen and the Nuka-World Raiders. You cannot be with the Railroad and the Institute. And you cannot become Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel.

So if you’re the kind of person who loves playing KSoFM, if you like plots that your character can “solve” with relative ease, or if you just think it would be super cool for your Sole to become Elder regardless of surrounding storytelling, then you might think the Elder ending sounds super cool. You are absolutely allowed to disagree with me here. Install all the mods and write all the fic and have all the headcanons you like. I respect that. There is no wrong way to enjoy a single-player video game. Have fun!

But if you’re a big nitpicky pedantic lore nerd like me, a fan of cohesive storytelling, or if you just want to hear how the Elder ending of BB absolutely fucking ruins Maxson, Danse, the Brotherhood of Steel, and the entire plot of FO4 from a narrative perspective, read on!

1. The Synth Thing

The Elder ending requires the stupid plot contrivance of the BoS forgetting about Danse’s synthhood.

One of the biggest problems with the BoS as an institution is their strict and dogmatic beliefs, which include a widespread dislike of non-human species. Perhaps more than any other non-humans, the BoS hates synths. Synths are, in their eyes, machines given free will, a violation of the sanctity of human life and the ultimate example of technology run amok. To them, synths are not sympathetic, they are not slaves, and they are not victims of circumstance. They are weapons that left unchecked will destroy all of humanity for a second time. Synths are anathema to everything the BoS stands for, and finding out that one of their most beloved and trusted Paladins is one is an earth-shattering blow to their integrity and sense of security.

It is completely absurd that the BoS would allow a synth within their ranks, particularly as they are waging war against the Institute, who created synths in the first place. It is even MORE absurd that they’d allow one to influence their Elder, or even worse, to become Elder. It completely undermines their mission in the Commonwealth, and the core tenets of their extremely rigid beliefs. No matter the Elder, no matter the Litany or obscure BoS law, no matter how valuable the Sole Survivor is as a soldier or how much influence they wield. Danse is a synth. He’s the enemy. He is physically the embodiment of everything they hate.

Not only wouldn’t they trust a synth in general, but the BoS specifically believes that Danse is an infiltrator for the Institute. Even Danse believes that he is a danger, that the Institute may be able to take control of him and use him as a weapon. Sure, we know none of this is actually true, or possible, but the BoS don’t know that. And given how quick they are to order Danse dead without even the possibility of surrender, I don’t think there’s any charisma in the world that’s going to convince them otherwise.

According to Peter Jessop, this, ultimately, is the reason why the Elder ending was cut. He talks about it around the 11:30 timestamp in his Instagram stream, linked above:

“We recorded an ending where you keep Danse alive and you take over the Brotherhood. But there was a question of content… there’s no way the Brotherhood, once they knew he was a synth, would let him be even the right hand of the person in charge.”

Bethesda correctly recognized the incredible narrative contrivance for the BoS to shrug off the reason they’re trying to execute Danse in the first place. Whatever other beefs I have with this ending conceptually, they all come in second to just what a big dumb leap it is to get beyond this first and most important problem.

2. The Complete Death of Conflict

The Elder ending of BB destroys the conflict of the quest, and potentially the conflict of the entire game.

Greed is a poison. There is no such thing as a perfect ideal or a perfect organization. Power corrupts. Humanity has the choice to build back better. War never changes. The Fallout games are full of themes, depicted by the characters and quests and factions we play out.

Blind Betrayal is rightfully praised as one of the most powerful quests in FO4. Not only is it well-acted, but it puts the player in a very difficult position. The BoS has given you clout and glory and free power armor and lots of firepower, but now you see the price: unquestioning obedience. You are ordered to execute your friend and mentor Danse for the mere fact he is a synth. Are you going to follow that unjust order? Are you willing to give up your principles on command? Or is this where you can no longer stay quiet and stay in line?

To be honest, I’ve always thought the fact you can talk Maxson out of killing Danse but still remain with the BoS in good standing was a cop-out. BB goes 90% of the way to forcing you to choose between a companion and a faction, and then chickens out at the last second to let you have both, if your charisma is high enough.

(I believe this has the fingerprints of Skyrim’s development on it-- Bethesda’s writers got nervous about doing another Paarthurnax choice involving the fan favorite Brotherhood of Steel. That’s right. Danse is the Paarthurnax of Fallout. Frankly, I understand why they chose not to go there, but damn, wouldn’t it have been wild? You want to run with the BoS? Then kill your friend and feel the burn. THIS is what it means to follow orders without question.

As for me, I’d pick Danse every time and sleep soundly without the company of shitty bootlicking dieselpunk LARPers- but I digress.)

Anyway, you know what would have REALLY been a copout? If the game asked you to make a difficult thematic storyline choice, and you solved the problem by just not choosing at all.

You are supposed to feel uncomfortable when Maxson orders you to kill Danse, because the game is telling a story about how it is maybe a bad thing to thoughtlessly follow orders without question. It is asking you to think about what the BoS is, what they are doing, and how they are going to run things, if you choose to let them “win” the Commonwealth. It is pointing out that there is no room for gray in the BoS’ black and white. That a good, loyal man may die because of the way he was made, through no action of his own. That soon, you’ll be killing other people on command. The Railroad. Fleeing Institute synths and scientists. Others, down the line. It all depends on who’s giving the orders. Are you going to follow those orders?

Eesh, that sounds thought-provoking and unpleasant and difficult! Let’s just skip it by killing Maxson and making ourselves the boss. Now we get to tell everybody else what to do!

It’s unknown what powers the Elder ending would have granted the player, or how it would have interacted with the other factions. There is speculation that you’d have been able to ease back on the BoS’ dogmatism, or change some of the later events of the game. For instance, perhaps you could talk the BoS down from attacking the Railroad, sparing popular characters like Glory and Deacon who must die in the normal BoS storyline. Perhaps you could have made the BoS a kinder, gentler faction and directed them to run the way you want them to.

If this was indeed the case, then the Elder ending would not only suck the gravitas out of BB, but torpedo the entire main plot.

If you can get rid of any and all downsides to siding with the BoS, why in the hell would players side with anybody else? With the player given total power, the BoS becomes a perfect faction with no drawbacks, no weaknesses, no tough decisions to be made. Screw slumming it with the Railroad or the Minutemen, let’s take over the BoS. Free power armor and a giant robot! Forget the whole intolerance thing, I hereby proclaim the BoS No Longer Problematic! Now to force all the factions to get along, completely removing all conflict and nuance from the plot!

That’s some real anticlimactic “tell Legate Lanius to go home and then he does it” bullshit right there. King Shit of Fuck Mountain!

Look, it might be nice if there was a perfect path like that to take through the game. It would be cool if our characters could be that powerful and the game was that tailored to our individual choices. On the other hand, “I change all the factions to suit my exact liking” might be a fun idea for a fanfic, but it’s an incredibly boring plot for a video game. “I get to make everything in the world exactly how I want it” is Minecraft, not a story-driven RPG with a complex and intricate plot.

It would be great if complex conflicts could really be solved that easily and effortlessly, but hey, you know what? War never changes.

3. The Assassination of Arthur Maxson (Literal)

Arthur Maxson’s death is too significant and fundamentally disastrous for the Elder ending to make any sense at all.

Hero, villain, leader, monster, tortured soul, brutal dictator, immature twerp, bearded sex hunk. However you personally interpret Arthur Maxson, there is no denying that he is a venerated, popular, beloved figure in the BoS. He is the blood heir of the organization’s founder, a powerful warrior, a brilliant tactician, and a charismatic negotiator. He is responsible for reuniting the East Coast BoS with the Outcasts, leading the new, stronger BoS with a sense of shared purpose. There is a damn good reason his name is Arthur and he named his ship The Prydwen, echoes of King Arthur and the legends of his glorious kingdom of Camelot. Arthur Maxson is so beloved that many view him as a demigod, a messiah sent to lead the BoS into a mighty and prosperous future.

So I’m sure nobody’s going to be upset when some wasteland jackass recruited a month ago stumbles in with a synth, kills him, and takes over his job. Right?

It doesn’t matter that it’s “honorable.” It doesn’t matter that it’s done “by the book” via obscure BoS rules. There is no codex or litany or rule so binding that it’s going to overcome the cult of personality around Maxson. There is no way that the BoS is going to accept the death of Arthur Maxson, a man whose reverence borders on worship, especially not when he is immediately replaced by a wastelander, or a synth.

The death of Arthur Maxson removes the unifying glue that’s been holding the BoS together since mending the rift with the Outcasts. Maxson’s death eliminates the one person that both sides of that conflict agreed could steer the organization in the right direction. Some level heads may try to keep the focus on the mission and the Brotherhood tenets, but Maxson loyalists will never forgive the new Elder for his death, and that amount of passionate righteous anger will not be quelled by appeals to the rules. The new Elder’s war on the Institute is basically over before it begins, when the forces splinter and start infighting over the change in leadership.

And this is if the new Elder lives long enough to actually give any orders. I give them around 24 hours after the duel before some angry Maxson loyalist “accidentally” pulls the trigger and “tragically” empties a clip into their back.

24 seconds, if it’s Elder Danse, the dirty synth abomination.

4. The Assassination of Arthur Maxson (Figurative)

The Elder ending of BB falsely pretends that Arthur Maxson is the biggest and only problem with the BoS.

In the Elder ending, as written, the conflict of BB is considered completely and totally solved by the death of Arthur Maxson. The core problem, that Danse is a synth and considered an enemy by the BoS, has not gone away. But by getting rid of Maxson, this apparently no longer matters. Nobody else is going to take offense to Danse’s nature or protest his presence. Nobody else is going to attack him or try to follow through with Maxson’s prior orders. Nope, that meanybutt guy who gave the order is gone, and everybody else is going to welcome Danse back into the fold like nothing ever happened.

I touched on this a little bit on an ask about Maxson a few weeks back, but a lot of people seem to believe that the FO4 Brotherhood of Steel is the way they are purely because of him. That he is the one making them treat non-humans as second class citizens at best, and enemies to be slaughtered at worst. That it’s his fault the BoS is so vehemently against synths and the Institute. That he is the one influencing their imperialistic tendencies, and treating the Commonwealth like territory to be conquered and people to be ruled over by their betters.

He’s not. That’s the Brotherhood of Steel, guys.

The charitable, altruistic, virtuous BoS that many of us met for the first time in FO3 were outliers. Lyons’ group was literally disowned by the rest of the faction because their kindness to wastelanders had gone so far astray from the “core” tenets. The BoS as a whole has always been exclusive, isolated, and seen themselves as “superior” to the average wastelander. They have long disliked or outright hated non-humans (and even Lyons’ BoS in FO3 use ghouls, feral or not, for “target practice” if they get too close!) The rigid dogmatism of the BoS is not something that Arthur Maxson started, but has always been part of their fabric.

Now, it’s true that Maxson is absolutely going hard on the BoS tenets, and extremely dedicated to upholding them. His BoS are the way they are and act the way they act because he believes that this is the way it should be. Is it possible that a different leader may be a little more flexible? Absolutely. Could a skilled Elder eventually show them the benefits of a softer approach and a more generous worldview? Totally. Is getting rid of Maxson and replacing him going to make that happen overnight, or going to make the rest of the BoS who supported him shrug and follow suit?

Nope.

Blaming Arthur Maxson for everything unsavory about the Brotherhood is unfair to him and also foolishly ignoring the deep, massive problems that are far older than he is-- problems that plenty of its members wholeheartedly believe are not problems at all. Getting rid of Maxson does not make the BoS kinder or gentler. Even pretending Maxson isn’t as personally beloved as he is, any new Elder who steps in and starts trying to fundamentally alter the way the BoS operates and what they believe in is going to face some major, immediate pushback.

Like, a full clip of bullets in the back type of pushback.

In the face if it’s Elder Danse, the godless freak of nature.

5. The Un-Redemption of Paladin Danse

Last, and my personal least favorite!

At first glance, Paladin Danse is a steely jackboot, a die-hard Brotherhood loyalist who fully and firmly believes in their cause. Many immediately dismiss him as a humorless brute, or completely ignore him because they think that’s all there is. But if you spend any time with Danse at all, you’ll notice a sort of weariness in him. He is tired, overworked, and his years of service are starting to weigh on him. He has watched friends, comrades, and mentors die in horrible and gruesome ways, and he suffers from PTSD. Though he has always been told that his own sacrifices, the sacrifices of his brothers and sisters have been” worth it,” he’s starting to question if that’s true.

After telling of the incident where he personally executed his best friend Cutler, who’d been turned into a super mutant, the Sole Survivor is able to console him:

Player Default: You did the right thing. Danse: {Somber} It's what I was taught. I don't know if it was right.

This line is an excellent summary of Danse’s entire character arc. He learns to question whether to believe what the Brotherhood has taught him, or to believe in himself. His gut feelings. His sense of justice and his own ideas of what’s right and wrong.

(In the interest of not turning this into an essay about Danse’s character, I won’t even get into how this also applies to his beliefs about his worth as a person. But keep in mind, that dimension is there, Danse just covers it up by making everything about the Brotherhood.)

During Blind Betrayal, after getting the orders to execute him and hearing Haylen’s plea for mercy, we may expect Danse to be ready to fight back or flee. But when you confront him in the bunker at Listening Post Bravo, he’s compliant and suicidal. Danse is so deeply poisoned by the BoS’ rhetoric that his own feelings or will to live don’t factor into the conversation. He demands that you follow your orders and execute him, because he believes, as the BoS does, that all synths are dangerous and must be destroyed.

Danse: {Stern} Synths can't be trusted. Machines were never meant to make their own decisions, they need to be controlled. Technology that's run amok is what brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction.

{Confident} I need to be the example, not the exception.

Through various dialogue options, if your charisma is high enough, you are able to talk Danse off the ledge. He is able to consider, at least, that the BoS’ merciless judgment of him is wrong and that what he was taught isn’t right. He is a thinking, feeling, self-aware synth, and that makes him as much a person as any human. Danse is no danger to humanity-- and maybe, most synths aren’t either.

Danse is an example, not an exception.

Later on, if you manage to get him out of BB alive, Danse shows further acceptance of his nature. His approvals about synths begin to soften slightly (or many of them do, at least… it’s not perfect.) He is still struggling with his identity and reconciling it with his former hatred, but his dialogue suggests that he’s on the road to being more open-minded and understanding. Along with this, Danse learns that he has value as a person beyond the Brotherhood. He no longer needs to define himself with BoS beliefs or judge himself by how useful he is to them. He learns that he is worth caring about, worth being friends with or being loved because of who he is-- not what he is, in any regard.

[SIDENOTE: Many players, myself included, are frustrated that Danse’s arc leaves off sort of midstream there. Due to the open-ended nature of the game, we don’t get a real conclusion to his arc-- even though much of his idle dialogue doesn’t change and he still espouses pro-BoS sentiments ( an unfortunate by-product of writing for a video game) there is every indication that he’s started down the right path, but understandably has a ways to go.

Also, Peter Jessop agrees with us.]

Meanwhile, in the Elder ending, Danse doesn’t get a redemption. His entire character arc, actually, hits the skids and does a total 180.

He never leaves the BoS. So scratch the need for Danse to ever think about himself as separate from them. He never needs to question what they’ve taught him or whether they’re right or wrong. He never needs to find any worth in himself beyond his use to the BoS. Why would he? He might be the Elder. The BoS is all he needs to care about anymore. The BoS is all he ever needs to be, ever again.

And I think, most horrifying of all, this Danse never needs to change his mind about synths. On the contrary, one of the surviving dialogue files includes Danse’s speech to reassure the rest of the BoS of his stance:

Danse: I want to make one thing clear to everyone. This body might be synth, but my heart and mind belong to the Brotherhood. The Institute is still a tremendous threat to the Commonwealth. They possess technologies that need to be confiscated or destroyed. And even if that means I have to pull the trigger on my own kind, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.

Elder ending Danse doesn’t grow more understanding on the nature of synths. He doesn’t accept that synths are people, or anything more than technology run amok. He won’t even accept that for himself. Elder Maxson wasn’t wrong about synths-- they’re the enemy and they need to be destroyed.

But, see, he was wrong about Danse. It’s okay for Danse to exist in spite of his nature. It’s okay for him to never fully accept his own personhood, and to outright deny it to his kind. Because his body is a machine, but he’s different from the rest because his heart and mind belong to the Brotherhood.

He’s the exception, not the example.

CONCLUSION:

The Elder ending of Blind Betrayal is dumb, contrived, stakeless, character-derailing powergaming crap at its finest and I’ll happily dance on its grave.

People give Bethesda a lot a shit for their writing-- whether it be stuff they left out, stuff they left in, or stuff that they never, ever could have made work due to the limitations of writing for a video game. Plenty of it is well-deserved, or at least worth a discussion. But from the minute I found out about its existence, I have always wanted to extend a congratulations to Bethesda for cutting the alternate Elder ending of Blind Betrayal. It was a good choice. A very good choice to cut a very dumb plot that would have fundamentally altered the story they were telling, and characters that I’ve grown to love. I think the writers deserve some credit and a hearty handshake for the wisdom of this decision.

Now as for why Nick Valentine isn’t romanceable--

#fallout 4 #fallout meta #paladin danse #arthur maxson #blind betrayal #this one was a long time coming #any thematic resemblance to any fics of mine is a coincidence #the blind betrayal manifesto #king shit of fuck mountain #the initial intrigue of the idea wears off if you think about it more than not at all

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Okokok here this: april, reader and casey try to prank the boys. How does it go. With who does it fails/success, what was the prank, do they get caught? Do the boys get revenge, and if so, how?

Also, splinter sees it all unfolds, does he just gets himself a snack and watch, or does he tries to subtly join in without getting caught? (We all know hes got a playful side cmon)

Bonus: they try to prank vern too, maybe the boys join in to prank him? What do they do? Does he retaliate?

Okay so I admit I let my brain go nuts on this one, so it's a little long but I was cackling the entire time I was writing it.

TMNT Headcanons

Prank Wars

Leonardo

In your complete and utter defence, Leo had 100% started this

And also in your defence, you did tell him not to

Twice

But he tricked you into watching a horror movie and ended up dying your hair green

This meant war

You'd even wrapped up April and Casey into it

Their problems were your problems

Which meant that April was the one who convinced Splinter not to say anything to his sons

He was perfectly happy to oblige

Casey was just there to help set things up

And you liked the way his mind worked

The objective wasn't to go unnoticed, there would be no point in doing it and having no proof

You were doing this to prove that you could

Leo had emphasized that he couldn't be distracted

That you were to obvious and clumsy to prank him without him noticing

Challenge fucking accepted

And that's how you ended up at the kitchen table eating lunch with April and Casey when the boys were coming back from meditating with Splinter

April kept having to shove food in her mouth to hide her laughter

Casey just decided to wear sunglasses

And you kept overpowering the urge to smirk

"Hey guys, good to see you. Y/n have you seen my katanas?"

With the obstruction of water in your mouth you just nodded at him, pointing to the other room

He sauntered off, none the wiser to your victorious grin

When he came back in only a moment later his expression had done a complete 180

Leo made direct eye contact with you and you held that stare like a wolf cornered in its den

"does someone want to explain why my katanas are encased in blueberry jello?"

You raised your hand like a child in class

"hate to break it to you, but it's actually berry blue you uncultured bitch"

Raphael

Ohhhh you were so undeniably dead

A whole other level of six feet under

It wasn't a surprise that April and Casey had backed out on this one

It also wasn't a surprise that Splinter had offered to stand up for you if things went sideways

Donnie even gave you a sheet of paper with a list of hiding spots before hand

All of this went completely unnoticed by Raph, the target of your latest scheme.

And that was fine, you had only one objective here-

Make it out alive

But it was amazing what 1 person could do with some extra cash and internet access

So that's what led you to your current position.

Cross legged on the bench, watching the large red terrapin get ready for his first set, that in itself wasn't unusual, you always watched him lift just in case you needed to run and grab someone if something went wrong

Raph was none the wiser to your plan

At least that's what you thought

Your book was in your lap and you were calmly scanning your pages, somewhat comprehending the words but keeping a very close eye on the turtle across from you

"Hey y/n?"

You peeked over the edge of your book to meet his eyes

And your heart sank to your stomach

"Yeah Raph?"

He smirked at you, taking a lumbering step forward

"You ever seen that episode of the Office where Jim fills Dwight's phone with nickels so when he takes 'em out Dwight punches himself in the face?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit-

"Uh... No, can't say that I have, why do you ask?"

That damn smile got even wider and all of your muscles tensed, you were ready to bolt

"I'm giving you a fifteen second headstart. Starting right now."

You flew to your feet and sprinted out of the weight room

"DONNIE WE GOTTA CODE RED!"

Your lungs were ready to burst by the time you made it to your decided hiding spot. Heavy footsteps went right underneath you and you held your breath, you wouldn't dare move.

You didn't come down until hours later when Splinter came and coaxed to you out of hiding

But deep down you knew you'd started something you couldn't finish.

Vern Fenwick

You didn't even have to convince the guys to partake in this

You didn't even get the chance to tell them what you were planning

They were already brainstorming

None of you let a word of it slip to April, she would've shut you down faster than you could blink

A complete buzz kill

But fake blood was relatively cheap and all of Vern's flooring was tile (meaning extremely easy to clean and bleach)

Donnie had really been the mastermind behind the execution, none of you had any idea how he'd rigged the apartment plumbing

But he'd assured you it would only affect Vern's suite and no one else's so you didn't concern yourself with it further

And after the fact you had to wonder what exactly the former cameraman was planning on the date he'd been in the middle of

All you knew was that you got a very frantic call from the falcon himself yelling about blood coming out of his tap and the sink wouldn't shut off and it was everywhere and what the fuck was happening?

You all knew that Splinter thought it was hilarious, he'd never been particularly fond of Vern

But he did make his sons assist in the clean up and bleaching of the victims apartment floor

You went too and offered moral support

Vern had hit on you one too many times, so there was no way you'd feel bad about this

Michaelangelo

As far as pranking went, you and Mikey were partners in crime

He always had great ideas and you always came up with the best ways to execute those ideas without getting caught

But when you separated those two chaos was guaranteed

You weren't entirely sure how you had been pitted against each other but you weren't entirely mad about it

You couldn't say the same for anyone else though, the others had been on edge all week.

Pranking Mikey was a challenge, he knew how you worked and vice versa

You'd been brainstorming with April for weeks now, maybe a new perspective would help

That's what the two of you told yourselves anyways

Much to your dismay, Mikey and Casey had been plotting against you as well, the traitor.

And perhaps even more unfortunate was the fact that both of your pranks somehow overlapped and backfired on the rest of the family

Because Mikey and Casey may have replaced the family tea set with a edible sugar replica that looked identical to the original

So that when you were asked to make tea for Splinter and Leo it would dissolve the second you poured the hot tea

But they didn't tell anyone else so Leo was left with an impromptu anxiety attack when he made his own tea before sitting down to meditate and it melted into sugary leaf water

And you and April had planned the 'cutting off your finger in the kitchen' with the knife, fake finger, and fake blood

Which in theory should've worked because Mikey was in the kitchen the most, that was his territory

However once you'd started your plan you couldn't stop it

so when you 'cut your finger off' and screamed for Mikey you didn't have time to yell "wait it's a prank!" before Donnie caught a glimpse of the scene and fainted

In your defence you didn't know the purple turtle could move that fast

And to Mikey's relief he was going to throw that cutting board out anyways

Splinter explicitly banned the two of you from pranking each other after that incident

Donatello

Per your own common sense you had come to the conclusion that pranking the families resident genius was a horribly stupid idea

So for once, you'd practiced some self control and refrained from any pranks involving Donnie

Now that's not to say that the turtle vowed from aiming any pranks towards you

He had morals but messing with you walked the line separating adorable from batshit crazy

And he was all for it

April advised against it severely and even Splinter seemed to think it wasn't the best idea, but that was a lesson his son had to learn on his own

On the flip side, the second Casey heard about Donnie's plan he was all for it

So when you came over for dinner they both had to hide their excited smiles as Casey passed you your spaghetti

He knew it was your favorite

Everyone else was oblivious, which looking back on it was a very bad thing

April had her suspicions that Donnie was pulling something this evening, but she couldn't put her finger on it

That wasn't until you swirled a mouthful of noodles around your fork and shoved it into your mouth, you were starving

Here lies your predicament-

You swallowed thickly and blinked like you were in pain, your hand went to your throat and you reached for your water, ending up chugging almost the entire bottle.

Your eyes met Donnie's in a serious type of concern

"Is there hot sauce in this?"

April choked on her breadstick and quickly covered her mouth

Casey hadn't picked up on it yet

"Awh yeah- how'd you figure it out so quickly?"

You erupted in a coughing fit that sent April rushing to your side before you could tumble to the floor

"You fucking assholes! Y/N has a capsaicin allergy! Casey go start the car we need to get them to the hospital!"

On the bright side you were fine after you were rushed to the ER

But you didn't speak to Donnie or Casey for two weeks following the accident

You eventually forgave them for it and they haven't targeted you since

Sorry if it got a little dark at the end, but I felt like it was more realistic. Also that has actually happened to me but it was a nut allergy (and that's how I found out I was allergic to cashews) But I feel like the ending was a good example of how pranking someone can go horribly wrong, you should always consider the possibilities before doing something that could cause harm to a person. (Unless they really really deserve it)

I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! 😁🧡👍

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt vern #prankwars #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse #bayverse donatello #writing requests

[haikyuuthots]

Hi I love your fics. I read all your ushijima ones and I loved them ☺️ Is there any way you can write some ushijima angst please??? Thank you I hope you have a great day 💖

Misunderstanding- Wakatoshi Ushijima

Pairing: reader x Ushijima

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: curse words, some arguing, angst.

Synopsis: your boyfriend overhears you talking to your friend, and is offended by what you said. You had no idea why he was giving you the silent treatment.

A/n: here ya go bestie, I’m sorry it’s a little late, I’ve been working :/ thank u luv and appreciate u 🤍

MASTERLIST

————————————————————————-

Being with Ushijima was a literal dream. Although he almost always held a stoic expression and wasn’t into public demonstration of affection. There was no doubt that Ushijima loved you, and was only ever soft with you.

From another persons perspective, Ushijima could seem uninterested or inexpressive, but to you Ushijimas feeling were the most evident, you never had to question what he could be thinking or feeling. But one day, everything felt off, for the first time , you had no idea what was on his mind.

Ushijima was home early from practice that day. You didn’t notice him walk in because you were on FaceTime with your friend. Last night all three of you went to dinner and you two were talking about the experience. Ushijima can hear you’re on the phone so as he’s making his way to your shared bedroom he walks around quietly not wanting to disturb you from the call. Stopping at the crack of the door, he can’t help but overhear the conversation between you and your friend.

“Yeah he just doesn’t really know how to express himself, sorry if it felt a little awkward.”

Your friend lets out a small laugh “no girl you’re good, it’s funny he’s kinda like a brick wall.”

Ushijima’s chest tightens upon hearing this comment from your friend, becoming a bit offended.

You on the other hand laugh out loud at her comment, you found it kind of funny. This offends your boyfriend even more he expected you’d at least try to defend him but instead you continued to agree.

“He kinda is.” You chuckle out “it’s like he’s like this the whole time.” You finish your sentence by changing your posture to stand completely still, with no expression on your face. Doing your best to “imitate” him. Your friend bursts into a fit of laughter and you briefly join her.

Ushijima has heard enough at this point, becoming angered by the fact that you would ver talk about him behind his back negatively. With a scowl on his face and a hurt heart he angrily makes his way out.

You on the other hand are still unaware that he was ever present at all, and continue talking

“No I'm just kidding. Honestly, he’s actually a big softie believe it or not. He cares about me and always makes sure to show me he does. He’s literally the sweetest person on the planet. Foreal girl I’m down bad.” You chuckle “I love him so much, I couldn’t ask for anyone better.” Your friend gives you a sincere smile as she hears you gush about your boyfriend “I can tell. Honestly he does seem like a really great guy. I’m so happy for you.”

As you continue to listen to her speak, you’re suddenly startled by a sound coming from your living room. You go to look to see what it is but you find nothing. You shrug it off and continue with the call.

Unbeknownst to you though, your boyfriend had actually been there and just left again, closing the front door of the house. He had no idea what to do with this built up anger growing inside him so he decided to go with his best friend Tendou to avoid you until he calmed down. Overhearing you say those words, really did hurt his feelings, and it made him insecure.

You continued on the call for another 20 minutes before you ended it

“Okay so I’m gonna go, it’s almost 9 so Ushijima should be home soon.” You tell your friend.

You both say your final goodbyes and hang up. Now you were jut waiting for your boyfriends arrival.

It was almost midnight and your boyfriend had still not returned home. You were worried sick, calling and texting him every 30 minutes. But he never answered any of them. You were freaking out, debating whether or not you should go look for him. When you finally came to a decision you heard the front door open and saw your boyfriend walk right through it.

You let out a giant sigh of relief, as you run over to him

“Oh my god Toshi, where have you been?!” You say as you make your way over to hug him.

He doesn’t answer or reciprocate the hug, confused you pull away

“Do you know how worried I was?! I thought something happened to you.” You say, annoyance obvious in your tone

Ushijimas stoic expression never changes as he stares down at you, still not muttering a word he continues to walk in shoving you to the side.

You’re extremely confused by this behavior. Ushijima never ignored you and he never ever went somewhere without letting you know first. Everything he did was out of character, and the fact that he ignored all your questions and avoided you completely angered you. You quickly follow him back to your shared bedroom, raising your voice you speak again

“Why are you ignoring me? Where the hell were you? Why didn’t you answer any of my messages?”

He still doesn’t say a word and this pisses you off even more. You forcefully turn him around to face you, your hand gripping on his arm “I’m talking to you” you angrily say

Instantly Ushijima yanks his arm away from your grip “don’t touch me y/n” the seriousness in his voice is almost scary.

You’re taken aback by his actions, you had no idea what was wrong with him. Why was he being so cold to you? He has never once acted this hostile towards you, you couldn’t wrap your head around what could’ve been wrong.

“A-are you mad at me or something?” You stutter out,

Still your boyfriend says no words, proceeding to grab a blanket and pillow,

“I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight. Don’t follow me.” He states as he briefly looks behind him to look at you one last time before walking out.

You felt defeated, the tears you were desperately trying to hold back, finally making their way out. You felt heartbroken, that your boyfriend whom you loved very much wanted nothing to do with you, and you had no idea why.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, overthinking and wondering why Ushijima had such a giant shift in character.

For the next two days, you barely spoke to your boyfriend. You missed him, and not being able to speak to him hurt you very much. All you wanted to do was talk to him and work things out, but he didn’t seem to want to do the same, considering the fact that every time you directed a word to him, he’d only stare blankly and ignore you.

Now, you’ve had enough, you weren’t going to take this torture anymore, if he wanted to give you the silent treatment, you needed to know why.

It was 9:30 pm when he walked through the front door returning from practice. You wasted no time and instantly made your way over to him

“We need to talk.” No answer

You groan “fuck Ushijima it’s been two days, can you please just talk to me?”

“Why are you mad at me, what did I do??” You’re voice is sounding more desperate now. But he just continues to make his way to the closet.

“Talk to me!!! Im tired of this, it feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.” You yell out.

This comment seems to trigger Ushijima, as it finally incites a response from him

“If that’s how you feel then maybe you should just leave!” His voice is louder than you’ve ever heard it before

He’s staring at you with a hurt gaze, “if you’ve always felt like I’m such a wall then why are you even with me?”

You’re shocked at his sudden outburst, feeling hurt by his words

“Is that what you want?” You quietly let out, “you want us to break up?”

You’re trying your best to hold back tears “but why!?”

“This is what YOU want. You made that pretty obvious.”

You’re beyond confused “what are you even talking about, why would I want this??”

“I know I bore you y/n! You don’t have to pretend to spare my feelings anymore.”

“W-what? Where did you get that from? Why would you say that?”

At this point the tears you were holding back are spilling out Ushijima’s gaze softens as he notices, his voice calming down a bit. He didn’t care how hurt he felt, the last thing he wanted to do was watch you cry.

“I heard you that night. You were talking to y/f/n. And I heard how you feel like I’m a brick wall with no expression.”

You’re staring at him in shock, you had no idea Ushijima had even been there that night.

“Toshi. I was only joking I swear. Instanly right after I ranted about how much you actually aren’t a brick wall, and how much I love you.” You place your hand on his cheek, making him look down at you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I promise I don’t feel that way at all.”

Ushijima melts in your touch, listening to your apologies, “i overreacted. Yes you hurt my feelings a bit but I should’ve talked to you about it.”

You make your way to hug him, and for the first time in two days he finally holds you into the embrace “no toshi. I made a dumb joke, and you didn’t listen to the entire context so it was easy to misunderstand. It’s not your fault, you had every right to be upset.”

He’s squeezing you, slowly rubbing his hands on your back, as a form of comfort

“It’s just, I know I’m not the most expressive, so when I heard you say that, I couldn’t help but feel that you were right. All I could think about was how much better you’d be with someone who matched your energy.”

You pull away and you look up at him “stop, don’t say that. I don’t need anyone else but you. You’re everything I want, I wouldn’t change a thing about you. I love you for you Toshi.”

You bury your face into his chest, tears beginning to fall from your face again, “I can’t believe I made you feel that way I’m so sorry.”

Ushijima holds you closer, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying again “please stop crying y/n. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

He held your chin up, his big hand wiping away your remaining tears. With a loving gaze he speaks again,

“I love you too y/n.” Instantly he bends down to connect his lips onto yours. He was so gentle as he kissed you, you instanly reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you tighter by the waist.

You missed being this close with your boyfriend, all you’ve wanted for the last two days was to be like this with him.

As you pull away, you speak again “promise me you’ll talk to me next time. Any problem you have please tell me, it hurt too much being away from you.”

“I will” he responds, leaning in for another kiss.

You loved your boyfriend, you truly didn’t want anyone but him.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu blog #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu! x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu boys #haikyuu x y/n #ushijima imagine #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #hq ushijima #haikyuu fandom #ushijima angst