#maybe they'll just get it out of their systems today?

[non-un-topo]

Was extremely excited about my "female masculinities & queer genders" class but it turns out it's entirely cis women complaining about men

#i kind of want to cry tbh GTFO. #i am once again the ONLY trans person in this class. Fuck. My. Life. #maybe they'll just get it out of their systems today? #i want to talk in depth about queer genders and trans stuff for FUCK'S sake. #and these cishet girls are talking about all the gay bars they've been to. i hate you. like actually.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi there!ever since I saw you when I first installed tumblr it just keeps getting better. I was wondering if you can write something about a hero being the sucess of a lab and the villain being a failure(Bonus if the lab is actually evil) Don't feel pressured to do this though😗

"Do you know why I'm considered the success, instead of the failure like you?" the hero asked.

The villain sneered at them. They yanked and thrashed and struggled against the shimmering containment that wrapped around them, warping like a net from the hero's outstretched fingers, forcing them down against the cold concrete.

"Because you're a good, obedient little hero?"

The hero couldn't keep the damn trap up forever!

"Yes."

The simple response, the tone, startled the villain enough that they went temporarily still. Maybe that was the ploy. They stared at the hero through the hazy sheen of their powers, mockery draining from their face, panting for breath.

The hero had many things that the villain didn't: a body that wasn't screwed up, powers that weren't prone to out-of-control devastation, a generally sweet and more palatable disposition when it came to public relations.

And, of course, they did what they were told. The villain had never properly thought about that.

"It was their most important addition, after you...you know," the hero said, studying them. "The ability to control their experiments. To make sure that nothing like you would happen again."

A bad taste slowly flooded the villain's mouth. They shook their head.

The hero stepped forward, crouching down in front of the villain, on the other side of the containment wall. Up close, the villain got a good look at the vein snaking up the hero's wrist. The blood was just slightly the wrong colour; it made them look gorgeously healthy, radiant, compared to the sickly pallor the villain couldn't quite shake.

"If I stop taking the serum for my powers, I die," the hero said, keeping their voice light. "Quite horribly. But while the serum is in my system, I'm not in control. Not really. Everything I do is monitored. If I stray too far out..." The hero grimaced.

"Why are you telling me this?" the villain whispered.

"Because I can't do anything about it. I can't do anything about them. I signed up to do something good, to make the world better, and I..." The hero squeezed their eyes shut. "Well. I'm going to try and drag you back to them, aren't I? I'm going to hand you over to the people who hurt you, and then I'm going to make a speech telling everyone what a terrible, awful monster you are as if they don't deserve everything you give them. I'll smile while I'm doing it too."

The villain swallowed. They strained to press a hand up against the wall, but it only forced them back down against the ground harder. The villain's breath knocked out of them.

The hero winced. "Sorry."

"Isn't it better to be dead?"

"You didn't think so when you ran."

No. Maybe that had been an unfair question to ask. Still, the fury and the helplessness of it seared through the villain because ShieldCorp - they were going to get away with it. All of the others were dead! Even if they managed to expose what was really happening, ShieldCorp had the hero.

"I wanted to do something good too," the villain said, hollow. "It's not your fault they took advantage of that."

The hero shrugged. Their hand stayed perfectly steady.

"Are they listening to us now?"

"Probably."

"They'll be angry with you."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Me telling you this doesn't change anything, does it?"

"I thought you were like them. I hated you. It changes that."

The hero smiled, or something like it. It was too fragile, too wobbly, too shattered a thing compared to the beautiful thing they tossed out to the masses at every public appearance.

"I want to destroy them," the hero said. "But, when I let this force field drop so I can take you in properly, I'm going to need your help to do that. How are your powers feeling today?"

"Like I'm going to burn down the world."

The hero nodded, just once, and rose again. Silhouetted against the skyline, they looked unstoppable.

"Excellent," the hero said. "On the count of three, start with me."

The villain was ready when the containment dropped.

ShieldCorp was not.

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #lab experiment #writing #ficlet #short story #fic #writeblr #writing snippet #story snippet #villains #heroes

[minispidey]

02: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist. next part.

02. He's just Steven (and Marc, and Jake)

a/n: i'm not like fully knowledgeable of DID but i did some research! if u guys can give me some tips/ point out my mistakes, i'd be happy to hear it and edit. i just really do need some help 🙏🏻 i've never written a system before and i'd love to hear some advice

(series tags are open!) tags: @3zae-zae3

"Morning, Stevie!" you started calling him Stevie not even a week after you moved in. Sure, he hates it when Donna calls him that, but god did it sound so beautiful when you say it.

You two walk out at the same time everyday, bothered by some of the sellers on the street blocking the door "Excuse us." you say as they made way for you and Steven. A vintage pink corvette was your way of transportation while Steven chooses the bus, but you weren't in a rush today "Stevie! I'll give you a ride. Get in."

Steven blushed, shaking his head "No no, it's fine, love." hearing him call you love made you accidentally kick your leg up. You stared confused at your leg before turning your head towards Steven again "Come on." you pouted.

"I'm serious— oh, bollocks." he drops his keys by accident "I'm alright."

You drove by his side slowly "Stevieee get in. I'm not letting you take the bus when I have a car."

"It's just-"

"Is it because it's pink?"

"No! No, not at all. I don't want to be a bother, that's all." he sighed.

"Steven. Get in." you pull down your sunglasses "I'm not taking a no for an answer."

"Yes, ma'am." seeing you so serious had him flustered. Maybe it's a weird kink he developed after knowing you were a lawyer.

He sat in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him before fixing your sunglasses "Okay! First stop, the museum."

Steven knew everyone's going to stare at your pink car. He just never expected so many people turning their heads towards you too. You were beautiful and radiated beauty and sunshine, you were an attention grabber.

He just imagines you in all pink in your firm, in a room filled with blue and black suits. He thought it was cute.

"Do you have like, a license? You can take my car on my days off."

"You don't have to." Steven shook his head "Really, you're too kind."

"It's alright! Whatever makes your life easier." you flashed him one of your bright smiles "I can drop you off every day if you wanna. I'm not as busy anyways."

"Take the offer, Steven. Beats having to cramp in every day." Marc says from the reflection of the right side mirror. Steven shook his head before turning towards you "It's fine, love."

"Come on. Rent's hell. Let me save you some commute money, okay? I may be fashionable, but I can be such a cheapskate-" the car comes to a sudden halt as you snap your head towards a shop window. Steven was pushed forward but thankfully held by the seatbelt "What's wrong?" he breathed out.

"What time do you have to go to work?"

"Before ten. Why?"

"It's eight. Do you mind making a short stop with me?"

Shop assistants surrounded you as you worked your magic "Ooh, and this one. Do you have it in pink?" you giggled as you slipped on another heel "Okay so like, the trick is to ignore the assistants." you whisper to Steven "They'll sell you anything in full price. Head straight to the expensive ones before slowly going to the ones on sale."

Steven nodded as he listened to the advice you gave. He felt a bit nervous as you spoke to the shop assistants, you seemed so confident as well. In contrast, Steven felt fairly awkward and he was just observing how you interacted with the people around you.

He was very intrigued by the way you were trying on shoes, the way you were talking about it with the shop staff— he couldn't explain what exactly it was that he found attractive about you, and it was slightly annoying him.

"Chica está loca..." Steven looks at the full-length mirror, Jake was staring right back at him. He raises an eyebrow at Jake "She's crazy. I've never met a girl who wears so much... pink."

Steven was about to talk back when you pull him to the counter, swiping your card and taking your shopping bags "Okay, so like, I got fourty percent off. I have a loyalty voucher." you two made your way back to your car, stuffing your bags in the back "Thanks for coming with me, Stevie. Well, you didn't have a choice anyways."

"It's alright, really. It was... fun." he smiled at you, getting inside the car "Never really shopped with anyone before."

"Really? Not even with friends?"

"Don't have any."

"Aw, how come? You're so fun to be with."

Steven's heart skipped a beat. He stared at you with bright eyes as you drove. He felt his face heat up. When he turns his head to face the side mirror, he finds Marc judging him.

"You've just met her, huh?"

"Shut it..." Steven mumbled under his breath, looking away from the mirror. He watched you, still smiling as you drove. It was like you weren't real, like you were too good to be true. If he had known years ago a woman like you existed, he would've searched for you everywhere. But you landed right outside his flat.

"I don't think I can pick you up after your work, training interns and all." you stopped near the steps "I'll see you later, Stevie."

"You don't have to, it's really okay." he blushed "I'll see you around, love." he got out of your car, looking back at you as he walked up the steps. You pushed your sunglasses down and waved back before driving away.

After an exhausting day, you drove back at 1 am. You shoved your files in the back seat with your shopping bags and rested your face, your signature smile falling from fatigue.

The streets of London were quiet, only the crickets' mating call filling the cold air. You rub your eyes, some of your mascara rubbing off "So tired..." you sighed as you turned the car to the right.

Though your sleepiness immediately went away when you spot a ridiculous ugly-patterned shirt. It was Steven walking back.

"This late?" you whispered to yourself. You sped up a bit to catch up with him "Stevie!" your cheery voice halted the quiet night.

His head turned towards you, a scowl displayed on his face. Though his eyebrows softened upon realizing it was you.

"Don't they have buses out late? You poor thing. Get in." you smiled as you unlocked your car, allowing him to enter.

"I should've totally given you my number. If I only knew you'd be out late like me I would've picked you up." you let out a yawn before continuing "I'm not that busy, I swear. Like, I'm a lawyer but I know how to manage my time."

As you went on and on, Steven just sat there and listened to you.

You parked your car and stepped out, trying to get all your shopping bags in one go. But Steven stepped in and helped "Aw, Stevie, thanks so much!" Steven looked exhausted too.

You talked more in the elevator, detailing how frustrating your day was at your firm before walking to your doors.

"-and he was like no and I was like totes! And he was like noooo and I was like, definitely!" you giggled "Whoever said orange is the new pink is totally disturbed."

You unlocked your door and let Steven in to set your bags down. He went to step out afterwards when you pulled on his sleeve "Thanks so much again, Stevie. You are like, too good to me. We should totally shop again some other time! Goodnight!" you placed a kiss on his cheek before closing your door.

He froze in place, staring at your door before unlocking his own door and getting in. He breathed in the cold air before walking to his fish tank, feeding the two fishes before his vision focused, looking at his reflection on the glass.

"Marc! What was that?!"

Marc looked back at Steven "It's nothing."

"Back off. I really like her, okay? There. I said it."

"You kissed my wife and your crush kissed me on the cheek."

"I said I was sorry."

Jake spoke up, appearing from a small mirror "You like her? Dios mío, that woman wears a lot of pink. What is it about her? Is it because of the car? I have a limousine."

"No! She's- she's really nice."

"Be more specific, amigo. Nice isn't how you like someone."

"Enough." Marc shakes his head "Steven, if you like her then go ahead. But just don't get attached."

"What do you mean?"

"I have Layla— we have Layla. I'm married to her. You can have a crush on your little neighbor, sure, but it's not like you can date her."

"Marc... come on, I have my own life... we have our own lives. What if I decide I want to date her? What if I really really like her, you know?"

"I don't know." he sighed, scratching his eyebrow "It's gonna be complicated, you know that."

Steven let out a sigh, looking down "I-I know... but I just... I just really like her."

Jake on the other hand was deep in this own thoughts. Marc heads to bed when Jake fronts, taking over the body. He cracks his neck before walking out and knocking on your door.

You were just about to take off your makeup when you head his knock. Your fluffy pink slippers squeaked as you made your way to the door, opening it "Stevie? Did you miss me already?" you giggled.

"Do you want to go out with me?" Jake put on his best performance, speaking in a kind of shy British accent.

"Out? Like, a date?" you blinked twice.

"Yes."

Jake understood now. He saw the way your eyes sparkled and your blinding smile "Oh my gosh, yes!" you squealed before covering your mouth, looking side to side across the halls, worried you might've woken up your neighbors "Yes. Let's go out. Uh, maybe lunch? I'm free."

"That's alright with me." he nodded.

"Alright." you couldn't help but smile like a fool "Goodnight, Stevie."

"Goodnight..."

After closing your door, you silently screamed, jumping up and down in excitement. Your exhaustion suddenly disappears as you start planning out your outfit for the morning.

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight system #steven grant x reader #x reader #x you #x bimbo reader #bimbo!reader

[krispdreemurr]

At first, she's not sure she's even hearing the notes.

They're distant and quiet. Even with her earbuds out, she has to strain to hear anything at all. The notes keep faltering before she can be sure what she's listening to.

She sets aside her notebook and moves out into the hall.

As she starts the walk to the dining room, she can hear them more clearly. It's definitely the piano in the side room, she's sure on that now. But the song...

The song is just the first few notes and chords, again and again, played clumsily and haltingly. There's jarring dissonant edges, and the rhythm is unsteady.

If the tune weren't so familiar, she'd have no idea at all.

(In front of her, or with family, they'd play things she knew - classical music, adaptations of songs from video games or Asriel's anime, more than a few Rickrolls.)

(It was only when they were alone that they'd play the same few songs, simpler melodies that she never heard anywhere else before or after.)

She reaches the doorway, gazing in through the open door.

The room is dimly lit, the moonlight through the windows providing most of the illumination. They're framed against an open window, a silhouette bent over the piano. She watches, silent, as they drag their hand down the keys, press down too hard and get a jarring burst of sound.

She remembers how they used to play. Fluid, graceful. It was the only time she ever really saw them comfortable in their own skin.

That's gone, now.

"Kris...?" she asks softly, stepping through the door.

The next part, at least, is familiar. They stare at her, wide-eyed, looking half-panicked. Hands frozen.

Despite herself, she tries to smile, glancing at the open window. "You know, I'm pretty sure dad gave you a spare key."

They stare a moment more, then laugh, hoarse and tired. Some of the tension bleeds. "Yeah, but breaking in through the window is cooler."

"You're just lucky I forgot how to set up the alarm system..." She steps closer, hooves clicking on hardwood. "It's one AM, Kris. Why are you here? Not that, um, you can't visit, just--"

There's a long silence, where they just stare at their hands on the keys. They're shaking, she realizes.

"Sorry," they say finally. "It was a stupid idea. I just--miss it. And the hospital is closed to visitors. I just wanted to, to at least try... Even if I know I can't any more, not like this." Another ragged laugh. This one has less humor. "Sorry. I'll go."

She looks at them a few moments more.

Maybe she should push more. Ask them what they mean by "like this", demand explanations for why they've been so weird lately, reprimand them for breaking in. She remembers them nine years old and coughing without end, begging her not to tell their mom and dad. She remembers how they drew away in the days after the accident, and how quiet they've been ever since. She knows they shut down, hide, conceal themself. She knows.

But she's tired too, and if she pushes they'll run, and she's lost so much already.

"Can I listen?" she says instead.

They blink, once, then shrug. "Sure, yeah... You wanna sit outside like old times? Think I can handle an audience for the world's worst concert, but..."

"No, I'd rather stay." She goes to settle down in the corner, folding her legs. "I never got to see you play much back then."

"Well, you're not going to see much today," they say dryly.

Their fingers linger a moment more, shuffling uncertainly and stiffly, trying to find purchase--

And then they play.

It's still halting and awkward, marred by misplaced notes and stilted pauses. It's nothing like it was, back when they were something not quite like friends and not quite like family.

But still, still--

Still she closes her eyes, and she listens once again.

#krisp fic #deltarune #thinking abt trying to play piano when your body is stuck on manual

[hyunnieshannie]

Suspended | KSM

🖤: Seungmin x AFAB Reader 🖊️: 10k 🖼️: Check out the Mood Board! 🚨: Teacher AU, unprotected sex, use of sextoys, bdsm themes - rope play/impact play/blindfolds/handcuffs, choking, edging (so much edging i practically edged myself while writing the smut-K), cumming multiple times, pet names (angel/pup & sir), sexual harassment in the workplace, use of light system (reader uses: yellow), crying (from overwhelming amounts of pleasure *wink wonk*), corruption kink if you squint - methinks that's it, if we missed anything please let us know- If you think we proofread this, no we didn't - M ♡: I hope you all know this took us SEVEN MONTHS to write- WHY did it take us Seven months? WHO KNOWS?? But it did. LIKE LOOK AT THIS SCREENSHOT THAT WAS WHEN WE STARTED THIS. anyways We hope you enjoy our little teacher Seungmin one shot. Please Reblog and let us know what you thought <3

There's something both satisfying and annoying about teaching and shaping the young minds of the new generation. Sure, you’re someone who most kids look up to. You have the honor of making an impact on their lives. Maybe they'll remember you in the future, maybe not. Either way, you're ultimately the one who helped prepare them for life outside of these high school walls you teach within. As much as you revel in this fact now, high school was a place you never wanted to return to. Within the walls of the high school live rowdy, unhinged, chaotic minds mixed with a splash of calm, put-together minds; and that only explains the student body. 

The staff on the other hand, well they’re on another level of unhinged and chaotic, though somehow put together enough to be able to contain themselves and careful to never unleash those thoughts on another member of staff- for obvious reasons. Sexual harassment claims, being fired over the smallest of flirting, let alone the fact that if anything escalated beyond such, you could expect the cops to parade you through the halls, with the curious eyes of the students all watching as you’re taken away. In any case, it was always best to stay away from any sort of relationship with a coworker. No matter what. 

Students, on the other side of the spectrum, never hid their relationships. You couldn’t count how many times you’d found students making out against their hallway lockers, running off to do god-knows-what in the staircase at the back of the school- or worse, when you’d be called to explain why student A and student B are being suspended, after being caught having sex in the washroom. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days. 

The two students sitting directly in front of you seemed to show zero hint of remorse,  for, quite literally, being caught in the act during the middle of second period. Could they really not wait until after classes? It wasn’t until both sets of parents had filed into the room that the students began to look embarrassed. “Welcome,” you sighed as you arose from your seat to shake the parents' hands. They were agitated, clearly disappointed and rightfully so. You didn’t get too graphic about the details of the suspension, as the printed notice would detail everything anyway. The parents read over everything carefully.

The father of student A scowled at his son. “I’m sorry for the actions of my son,” He muttered, as he ripped his son from the chair he sat on. “This is beyond unacceptable and we will make sure he has learned his lesson.” Their verbal assault launched as your student was dragged through the somewhat empty school and you just barely caught the words "embarrassment" and "disgrace" as their voices faded down the halls. Student B sat quietly as she watched her mother read through the printout. Signing her name and passing the flimsy sheet of paper to her daughter to sign, in acknowledgement for her wrongdoings, they spoke not a word, but the anger radiating from them was enough indication that she would receive a thorough talking once out of the eyes of the school's principal and yourself. 

It was, undoubtedly, one of the longest days of the year. Not that there was any reasonable explanation, such as a time change or anything. No- it was simply just a day full of students who had decided that this particular day would be the best to ‘act up’. You often wondered why students who were caught by you seemed to think they would magically get away with their actions. Why your students lacked basic respect for you until the moment you smacked down the hammer, clearly marking the line between friendship and an authority figure. Sure, you’re one of the younger teachers in the school, but none of the others seemed to have this issue with their students. Hell, even the two students from just now thought they were merely getting a slap on the wrist for their actions- never expecting you to follow through with your threat of calling their parents in. Did they truly not expect you to do so? Could they really have thought you’d just speak to them, and tell them a small ‘Don’t do it again’? 

As you meandered through the empty halls of the school, you wondered why you had even taken up this job. You had barely finished your degree and mostly hoped to be working with children of elementary age. Children, though energetic and clumsy, still seemed like less work than a class full of twenty-eight, moody teenagers all in the age range of fifteen to sixteen. Somehow an elementary school still seemed like it would have more order than this mess of a high school. You know the curriculum, you’re a good teacher- Credit where credit is due, and surely you deserved it. When your students did in fact listen- instead of making snarky remarks about you that they thought you wouldn’t hear- they would pass tests and exams with flying colors. So what was it you were doing oh-so-wrong to deserve passing comments such as ‘Can I get your number?’  or the boy's new favorite ‘Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?’

The moment you reached the faculty room, you threw yourself on the couch face first, thinking you were completely alone as you’d seen no one when you walked in, you let out the loudest scream your lungs could manage into one of the throw pillows. “WHY” you wailed, allowing the pillow to muffle your desperate cries for answers. 

“Rough day?” a voice says with a light chuckle. Slowly you lift your head to see another staff member standing alone by the coffee maker. You drop your head in embarrassment as you have now learned, you were indeed not alone when you let out that blood-curdling scream. “Miss. Y/L/N. Are you alright?” He said as he approached you. Leave it to one bad day, for you to not be fully aware of your surroundings and to let out such a scream in front of the ‘most perfect’ teacher this school has ever had. He’s a very intelligent man, there has never been a problem that he couldn’t fix. He’s polite, well-spoken and could practically substitute for any teacher in the school. He had a teaching degree, as well as a few others that he had picked up ‘for fun’. Not only was he all of that and more, but of course he also happened to be around your age, perfect. He made everyone else, including senior staff, look like they had done nothing productive with themselves. You let out a soft laugh into the pillow, as the realization that he had caught you in a mental war finally began to sink in. 

“Mr. Kim,” you say as you hastily sit up to save what little pride you had left. To be laying on the couch would be one thing- but the way you were planted with your head buried in a pillow was another. How embarrassing. “What are you still doing here? It’s well past school hours.” He smirks as he lifts his coffee cup in the air as if to say ‘Cheers’ 

“Had a few tests to grade,” he chuckles, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the steaming coffee. Your gaze settles on his hands wrapped around the mug, the mug looking small in his hands. You watch as he sips on the liquid and swallows it, making his Adam's apple bob up and down again. God, he’s stupidly beautiful. “And how about yourself Miss. Y/L/N, what are you doing here well past school hours?” He repeats the words back to you, raising a brow in a teasing manner. 

“Caught two students again,” you sigh, “I can’t even think of one good reason for them to be doing such things in the washroom, during school hours much less.” You slump further into the couch, rubbing your temples in annoyance. 

“You tend to draw the short straw every time huh?” Seungmin chuckles as he sips some more of his coffee. He keeps his eyes trained on you as you close your eyes, rubbing your head. He smirks to himself as he approaches you cautiously. 

“Unfortunately.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face and leaning forward, elbows resting on your knees. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” He pulls a chair up as he gets closer, swiftly shifting the chair so he can sit on it backwards, taking another sip of his damn coffee. Fuck, the bare minimum and its too motherfucking sexy. 

“Don’t you have papers to grade?” You eye him unsure if you really want to waste his time complaining if he has more important things to do. You’re also not entirely sure you want to talk about the whole thing anyway. 

“They can wait, you on the other hand look stressed.” 

“I don’t know Mr. Kim, I think it’s a bit beyond stress if you ask me.” You sigh again. “I think- I’m just tired and frustrated?” 

“Tired and frustrated, heavy combination.” he nods in understanding. “I feel as if catching students in the act isn’t what’s making you so tired and confused though.” 

“No, I mean yes- but not really.” You admit and Seungmin gives you a questioning look. You again sigh, “It’s the disrespect I receive, Mr. Kim. It’s overwhelming, and to be quite frank - annoying.” 

“I mean yes, doing such a thing on school grounds is disrespectful, but I wouldn’t take it personally Miss. Y/L/N.” Seungmin says as he takes another sip from his mug. 

“I don’t take that kind of thing personally Mr. Kim,” you laugh lightly. “I am genuinely constantly disrespected by my students, your students - at some points it feels like it’s the whole school.” You sigh in defeat. Seungmin is now sitting up straighter, he’s got a look of surprise. He seems genuinely confused at your statement. 

“How have they been disrespecting you?” He asks in concern. He desperately needs to know what the fuck the students have been saying about you. “Have they said something to you? Done something? Anything my students have done Miss. Y/L/N, I must know in order to speak to them accordingly.” You let out a light chuckle, shaking your head, and resting your chin on your palms. 

“Where do I start Mr. Kim? Would you like the comments on my body or should I tell you which students have attempted at grabbing my-” You stop yourself before finishing that thought, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “In all honesty Mr. Kim, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Perhaps after this year, I’ll resign.” At this point, you are so done with this school and you are so ready to quit and leave this school, it isn't doing your mental health any justice. As you are contemplating your future, Seungmin is reeling, he doesn't understand how his students have been saying such horrible things to you.  

“You can’t resign Y/N-” Seungmin says quickly, almost jumping out of his chair. He shocks himself from his sudden outburst, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie. Why would he drop the niceties? “I mean-” He runs his hand through his hair. “Miss. Y/L/N, the school would suffer a great loss if you were to resign.”

“How do you figure Mr. Kim?” you give him a questioning look. You truthfully thought that no one would really miss you, so why is he so adamant that you stay?

“Well, for one your students tend to have the highest grades in the school, which is no easy task.” He looks around the room as if to find the answer to your question written on the walls. “And from what I have always seen, all of our students absolutely adore you. The staff loves you, and I’m sure you’re on track for a few awards this year as well.” 

“You flatter me, but is it worth the verbal harassment from the students?” 

“You never told me what they’d been saying,” Seungmin mumbles through the pout of his lips. Fuck, I’m not strong enough for this. 

“The comments are different every day, from asking me on dates to calling me” you gesture air quotes, “Mommy. In the middle of class.” Seungmin’s jaw basically drops to the floor in complete shock. 

“Have-” he says cautiously as he picks his jaw up off the floor. “Have any of my boys said these things? If they have, I’d like names Y/N. Truthfully I’d like the names of all the boys who’ve made such inappropriate comments. ” He says sweetly but his jaw is set in anger, you can tell by the vein that is pulsing on his neck. 

“Mr. Kim-” 

“Please, call me Seungmin. I don’t see why we insist on speaking to each other as if we were students.” He smiles kindly at you.

“Seungmin.” Fuck, his name is so pretty. “It would be easier to list off the names of those who do not make such comments.” Seungmin looks immensely disgusted. 

~~~~~

Since the evening you spent speaking to Seungmin, he had begun loitering in your hallway. In the mornings, as students raced to get to class on time he would stand at your classroom door next to you, greeting students as they came in. During the lunch period, he would make his way into your classroom, and insist on spending the time with you- and if he had any sort of free period, he would keep a close watch on your class- well out of both you and the student's sight. 

He wanted to see with his own eyes, his students acting out. He wanted to be able to hear the disgusting comments himself. He thought surely it wouldn’t happen every day, right? Wrong. On the first day, he had heard the alleged Mommy comment at least four times. On the second day, he watched as a student attempted to smack your ass, only for you to turn around instantly and scold him yourself before sending him to class right after. 

Disgusted, was an understatement. Seungmin was livid. How could the students be this sick? He wondered. He would not allow this to continue. On the third day, he had finally had enough. After hearing passing comments about you in his own classroom, he’d immediately excused himself and marched his way down to the principal's office. 

“Sir,” Seungmin says as he enters the principal’s office. He’s fuming, barely holding himself together. 

“Mr. Kim, how can I help you?” The principal asks from his chair, motioning for Seungmin to enter the room.

“It seems we have an issue.” 

“Regarding?” 

“Miss. Y/L/N, and our students,” Seungmin announces, expecting the principal to be concerned, however, that wasn’t really the case.

“Ahh, Miss. Y/L/N again?” The principal tuts. Seungmin is shocked. Again? What does that mean? Has she already brought up the issue? 

“Ah, so you’ve heard-” Seungmin sighs calmly, and the principal nods. “To be absolutely truthful with you sir, this sort of behavior is absolutely-” The principal cuts him off before he finishes. 

“I don’t see why she’s so dramatic, I’ll have to have another talk with her.” The principal announces, picking up his office phone to get a hold of you.

“I’m sorry sir?” Seungmin asks, confused. Why would he have a talk with you?

“I don’t see why a woman like her would wear such clothes and later complain about boys being boys.” The principal sighs in annoyance. “I mean one look at her and any man would want a piece.” Seungmin wraps his hands in a tight fist at his side. He really wishes he didn't walk into this room.

“Sir, that is wildly inappropriate to say about a member of staff.” Seungmin seethes. This is not how a supervisor should be treating a subordinate, this isn't how you should treat another human being, especially one that is trying to do her job. How can someone have the audacity to say that openly? “She is-”

“A woman, Mr. Kim. She is a woman, and women, especially women like her, should dress according to their bodies. Wearing such tight clothing around boys who are barely getting their hormones in check is just asking for-” 

“She wears dress pants, sir? She is always professional in her clothing. I don’t see how this constitutes harassment.” The principal attempts to interrupt but Seungmin continues. “To say a woman is ‘asking’ for sexual harassment from students, or men in general for what they wear is absurd. It is her body, she may do with it as she pleases so as long as it is school appropriate. She is not asking for anything but the bare minimum!” The principal rolls his eyes at Seungmin’s statement. “She deserves the respect any of the other teachers receive!” 

“Well, she isn’t like the other teachers now is she?” 

“What does that mean sir.” He fists his hands even tighter if that was even humanly possible. 

“She’s different- she’s more of a looker. Please, Mr. Kim, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The entirety of the faculty knows you’ve had the same thoughts as the rest of us.” Seungmin can feel his blood boiling, if he could, he would launch himself at the principal and punch him out for the shit that was coming out of his mouth. The principal admitted to thinking of you grossly and has now accused him of the same. Sure, he had thought you beautiful, intelligent, and funny but to mentally undress you was something he never did. No. He respected you far too much for that. 

“I do not appreciate you painting me as a predator.” Seungmin grits his teeth, tightening his jaw. 

“Seungmin, go back to your class. There are more important things to deal with.” The principal waves him off in annoyance. “I should have gotten rid of that woman after the third time she brought this issue up, if it was so bad she would have changed her appearance.” 

“Her looks should never have been a problem in the first place!” Seungmin yells at the steaming pile of shit in front of him. “How dare you speak about her as if she was nothing more than some sort of-” he struggles to find the right word. “Doll!” 

“Mr. Kim.” the principal warns in annoyance.

“She is much more than that! An intelligent woman who has put up with this for far too long! If you do not wish to punish the students for their actions sir, I will have no choice but to email the board.” Seungmin glares at the principal. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. 

“I will be putting you on suspension, Mr. Kim. Think about what you really want to do here. Go. I’ll have someone cover your class. Get out of my sight.” Seungmin leaves the office in a huff, walking aggressively back as he internally thinks about how he will absolutely fuck that mans career. He walks past your class and you notice that he's pissed, you race out to see him.

“Mr. Kim!” Seungmin stops in his tracks and looks at you. You let the door close to your classroom behind you to have a more private conversation with him. His attitude changed when he saw you but he was still tense. You notice his knuckles are white, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. “Will I see you for lunch again?” 

“No.” He says angrily. He never misses lunch with you. Why is this time different? What made him so angry? 

“Are you alright Mr. Kim?” You ask cautiously. He looks around the hallway and sighs. 

“Miss. Y/L/N, it seems in attempting to do what was right, I have been suspended. My apologies, but I will not be staying for lunch.” 

“Suspended?! For what?!” You yelp in shock. Seungmin is the most perfect teacher at this school, how in the world did he get suspended?

“It seems harassment in this school goes unpunished.” You look at him confused. What the hell is he talking about? “I will also be considering my position here. Perhaps I will join you in resigning.” You’re stupidly confused. What brought all of this up? Did he say something about the harassment you faced daily?  You should have warned him that you brought this issue up to the principal in the past only to be ignored every single time. 

“Mr. Kim, I’m- I’m so sorry. I should have told you not to bring it up-” you stutter as you’re finding it increasingly difficult to look him in the eyes for feeling guilty that your problem had caused him to be suspended. He shouldn't be suspended. 

“Y/N.” Seungmin sighs and softly brushes his hand against yours to gain your attention again. “It’s not your fault that the people who are supposed to stand by your side haven’t. My suspension only opened my eyes to the massive flaw we have within the school. I intend to either fix it or remove myself from the equation.” Seungmin bows to you lightly and walks away, thinking about every way he could get the principal fired. He would have to email the school board. You stand in the hallway completely flabbergasted by what just happened. The bell rings stealing your attention from him, as you turn back to call for him, he’s gone.

➽──────────────❥

➽──────────────❥

You hear a knock at your door. You quickly run into your bathroom to make sure you look presentable after slaving over dinner prep. You run to the door and open it quickly. Seungmin is standing there dressed casually, not in his usual slacks and button-downs, with a bottle of wine in his hand. You beam a smile at him. “Welcome!” You motion for him to enter your home. 

“Thank you,” he smiles back. The atmosphere in the apartment is so heavy with awkwardness. He looks down at his hands and realizes he still has the bottle of wine in his hands. “Oh, I- uh, brought this for you- I mean us,” he says as he holds the bottle out for you. You take it with a small thank you and make your way to the kitchen. This is the first time the two of you have hung out outside of work so it’s bound to be a little awkward… right? You can't help but sneak glances at him. He looks handsome even in mundane clothes. He stares at all the food you prepared in awe, “Seriously, you didn’t have to do all of this?” 

“I felt like it,” you chuckle lightly. You’re incredibly nervous for him to taste your food. You very rarely cook for anyone and especially since it’s him you kind of went a little overboard. “Anyways, sit or-”

“Where’s your corkscrew?” He asks politely as he makes his way into your kitchen. “I find a bit of wine is always a welcomed relaxant.” You laugh and point to the drawer. You take out a few wine glasses while he struggles to pull the cork out of the bottle, making the both of you laugh, and breaking some of the unnecessary tension. You both sit down to enjoy the meal and the wine, the conversations flowing smoothly. 

“Oh please Mr. Kim-” you laugh, your cheeks tinted pink from drinking so much. Seungmin’s mind is reeling, he thinks you’re absolutely adorable, but in a corruptible way. Wait, did I just think that? Do I want to corrupt her?? No… I’d be no better than those fuckers at school… but she looks so pretty right now, her eyes glossed over, cheeks pink… fuck.

“I told you, call me Seungmin, we’re not in school,” he chuckles lightly, helping you out of the chair at the table and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.

“Sorry, old habits,” you frown. “I’m sorry you got suspended… because of me.” You sniffle a little as you finish your sentence. He was the only person who treated you decently at that hell hole, of course, you’re upset he's gone. And he’s also the only eye candy at that school and you can no longer ogle over him from down the hall.

“Hey, I told you, I got suspended because I couldn't keep my mouth shut about what was going on at the school. It was in no way your fault.” He said softly as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, wiping away a single tear that ran down your cheek.

“I just feel like I didn’t do enough to make it up to you,” you say softly as you play with the hem of his shirt. He watches your hands carefully, studying the curve of your fingers, wondering what they’d feel wrapped around his- no- stop. Don’t think like that… Seungmin quickly shakes the thought out of his head, but he couldn’t help but admire you. So sweet, so sickeningly innocent. The way you look up at him with those eyes, like a siren beckoning him to kiss you, god how badly he wanted to kiss you, touch you, make you, his- only his. 

He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he shouldn’t want you as badly as he does but as he looks at you- shying away from him all he can think about is how he could ruin that innocence you seem to unknowingly have, he wants to hear the sinful noises he just knows you’d be capable of making at his command. Fuck-  oh fuck, the ways he could ruin you. I really am no better than the rest of them… 

“Well, there is something that we could do to make it up to both of us,” he said carefully, tracing his fingers over your knuckles, a shiver running down your spine.

“What do you have to make up for?” you ask softly, looking at his eyes for the first time since you sat on the couch. His pupils have blown out, a slight blush to his cheeks, his ears red.

“For the thoughts, I’ve been having all night,” he admits, ghosting his fingers further up your forearm, tracing over every blemish on your skin.

“O-oh? What k-kind of thoughts?” you ask shyly as another shiver runs down your spine from his gentle touches.

“I’ve been thinking about how much I want to corrupt you, how I want to wrap you up in a bow like a fucking Christmas present begging to be opened, how I want to see you writhe beneath me as I fuck you hard and rough until you’re screaming my name.” 

You moan at his words as he rests his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly in his hands. “What… what’s been stopping you?” You close your eyes as he massages your thighs, slowly running his fingers up under the hem of your skirt.

“I…” Seungmin pauses as he slowly removes his hands from your legs, suddenly feeling guilty at his actions. “I don’t want you to think I’m just another sleazy guy.” You immediately shake your head vigorously.

“I don’t think you're sleazy. At all.” You say, shocked at the confidence in your voice. “I… you’re the only person that has stood up for me… cared about me.” You trace your fingers over his knuckles. “And…” you’re not sure if it was the atmosphere or the alcohol that gave you the confidence but you blurted out without even a second thought, “I also think you’re incredibly handsome, Seungmin.”

Without a second further, Seungmin lunges forward and crashes his lips to yours in a hot, wet, steamy kiss. He licks into your mouth and quickly dominates the kiss, guiding you to match his rhythm. His hands glide further up your legs, under your skirt again and his fingers brush along the gusset of your panties. 

“Already so wet for me, angel?”

You whine into his mouth and grip the hem of his shirt tighter, trying to pull him closer to you. He wraps his hands around your wrists and yanks them away from him as he smirks into the kiss. 

“When did I say you could touch, angel?” He asks darkly, his tone firm, demanding. He held your hands down to your sides as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “Be a good girl and stay still for me.” You felt your body shiver and a high whine escaped your lips. You wiggled slightly, the need between your legs growing to be unbearable.

“Stop moving or I’m going to have to tie you down, angel.” Seungmin teases but pauses at the immediate blush that flashed across your cheeks.  “Oh, you like that don’t you.” Seungmin chuckles as he bites at your chin. “I don’t have anything to tie you up, angel, maybe next time.”

You squirm underneath him, desperate to get his attention since your words seemed to have been caught in your throat. “S-Seung-”

He stops sucking on your neck to allow you some space. “What is it, angel? Are you ok?” He looks so concerned as he looks over your face for any discomfort.

“‘M ok.” You say breathlessly. “H-have rope.” Seungmin stops and stares down at you, his eyes darkening.

“Oh, my naughty, naughty girl. You have rope? Who’s tied you up before, angel? Hmm? Tell me.” Seungmin seethes as he grips your wrists tighter, feeling incredibly possessive over you all of a sudden.

“N-no one. I s-swear. N-never tried it.” You begin to cry, not wanting him to run away from you, disgusted by your desires. Seungmin lets go of your wrists to wipe away your tears, kissing your cheeks and then your nose.

“Ok, angel. I believe you, don’t cry just yet.” Seungmin runs his hands down your cheek, down the column of your neck, through the valley between your breasts, across your stomach, and ghosting his fingertips across the hem of your skirt. “Why don’t we take this to your bedroom then so we can use that rope of yours.” He holds his hand out to help you up off the couch. You take his hand and rush toward your bedroom and close the door behind both of you. You go to your bedside and pull out a box from under your bed.

“I know it’s cliche to have a box of toys under the bed, please don’t judge me.” You say shyly as you stay knelt on the ground with the closed box in front of you. Seungmin slowly walks up to you and runs his fingers through your hair as you lean into his touch.

“So obedient,” Seungmin chuckles. He leans down and opens the lid to the box and inspects the toys inside. “Which one’s are your favorite?” He looks at you when you don’t respond and he chuckles lightly again. “You have permission to speak, angel.”

You point to a black bullet vibrator that sat atop all of the other items in the box and a clear silicone dildo sat right next to it. “These two,” you whisper quietly.

Seungmin huffs and takes the two toys out and tosses them on the floor next to you and continues to examine the other toys in the box. There's a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, rope, a thick veiny long lifelike dildo, and a curved vibrator - the type that has internal and external stimuli. “Have you ever used any of these?”

You shake your head no. 

“I want you to speak when I ask you a question,” Seungmin says in a demanding tone, making a shiver run down your spine.

“N-no, I haven’t used them.” You respond shyly, keeping your eyes focused on your hands folded in your lap.

“No, what?” Seungmin says as he lifts your head up with his fingers pressed under your chin. “What do you call me, angel? You get to decide.”

“N-no, I haven’t u-used them, sir.” You say as a blush creeps across your cheeks and you feel more wet between your folds. You see Seungmin shiver when the title rolls off your tongue, but he still keeps his cool.

“Why haven’t you used them? You bought them, you should use them, no?” Seungmin says as he begins removing each item from the box and placing them carefully in between the two of you.

“I-I never had the opportunity, sir.” You say as you look away from him. He tuts and guides you to look at him again. He’s giving you a knowing look like he knows that’s not the entire truth. Fuck, was I always this easy to read? “I-I’m scared, sir.” You say quietly, the confession making you feel more shy than you already were. You’ve never shown anyone your treasure chest before and the fact that you were showing Mr. Kim, the man you’ve had a crush on for AGES, was fucking with your brain more than you would’ve liked. You wanted to do anything, everything he asked. Wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you’d do whatever he wanted. Seungmin’s gaze softens and he brushes his fingers across your cheek, you lean into the touch, desperate to feel his warmth again.

“You’re scared of the toys? Hmm, my poor angel isn’t very heavenly if she has all of these naughty toys, right?” Seungmin asks and he sees the panic flicker in your eyes. “Shh, angel it’s ok. I like your naughty desires, but it makes me want to corrupt you even more. Would you like that? Can I teach you?”

You nod your head excitedly. “Yes, yes. Want you to teach me. Show me, sir.” 

Seungmin shivers in excitement. He pets your cheek gently. “Anything for you my angel. Get on the bed on your knees for me.”

You do as he says and place yourself at the center of the bed, carefully tucking your knees beneath you and placing your hands in your lap, awaiting his instructions. He smiles when you’re settled and stands at the end of the bed, looking over your body as if you were a piece of art in a museum. 

“Such an obedient little thing aren’t you.” Seungmin praises, you feel a satisfied shiver run down your spine. “Now, I want you to be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, and when you’re done, get back into that position. Understood, pup?”

“Y-yes sir.” You carefully remove your shirt, trying your best to make your movements as sexy as possible. You lean back and remove your skirt and panties, tossing them onto the floor next to your discarded shirt. You prop yourself back up on your knees and slowly reach back to unclasp your bra, suddenly feeling all too shy to be so naked in front of him. Seungmin walks to the side of the bed and sits down beside you when he notices your hesitation. He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He runs his fingers down your cheek to your chin and tilts your head towards him.

“You don’t need to be shy, pup. You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers running up and down your arm. “Let me see all of you.”

You nod your head, unclasp your bra, and let it drop to your lap. Seungmin picks it up and tosses it over his shoulder as he stares at you. He looks you up and down, briefly licking his lips when his gaze locks on your lips. He gets up from beside you and stands at the foot of the bed again right in front of your box of goodies.

“What shall we do first pup?” Seungmin looks down at the box and a small smirk dances across his lips. He pulls out the silky black blindfold, “Shall we start with this?”

He walks over to the side of the bed again and places his hands on your shoulder, lightly pushing you down so you’d lay flat on the bed. He pushes the hair out of your face and places the silky material over your eyes. “I’m gonna need you to tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable, ok pup? You know the stop light system?”

“Y-yes sir,” you mumble breathlessly. The removal of sight has already heightened your other senses. His voice was caramel sweet to your ears and you wanted.. no.. needed more.

“Good girl.” You feel the bed lift beside you as Seungmin begins to walk away from you. “Stay just like that.”  You hear him moving around the room and the rustling of the items in your box until you hear him gasp. “Ohh fuck.” You hear him whisper probably to himself so you stay silent. “You really are a pup aren’t you?” You hear a chain clanging against itself as seungmin removes whatever it is from the box. “Sit up.” Seungmins words are commanding and you obey immediately. You listen as the chain and inevitably Seungmin approaches you again. He grabs your jaw and leans in close to your ear. “I can’t wait to see you in this pup. And I swear to god, if you disobey me I will not go easy on you. You’ve been such a good pet so far, let’s not make it go to waste huh?” You shudder and nod as best as you could within his grasp.

“Y-yes sir, I’ll be a good pup, I swear.” You want to please him, you want him to praise you again and call you a good girl. You wanna be so so so good for him.

He chuckles in your ear and he moves his hand down from your chin and rests it around your throat. You keen at the motion and lean into his hand, wanting so desperately for him to squeeze. “Oh, it’s a good thing you like things wrapped around your neck pup.” Seungmin teases as he tightens and loosens his hold on your neck in quick succession. You whine and buck your hips up at nothing, the need between your legs starting to become unbearable. 

Seungmin removes his hand from your throat and you let out a desperate whine. “Shh, pup, be patient.” You suddenly feel cold, rough material tightening around your neck. Seungmins face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want to turn your head and kiss him but you want to be good. Need to be good. So you stay still and wait for his instructions. Once he latches the material together you feel the cold metal chain drape across your chest and down the valley of your breasts. “Go ahead, pup, feel it.” You reach up to your neck and feel at the material that was placed around your throat and you gasp at the realization. The studded collar you bought a few months ago, was now sat prettily around your neck, the leash dangling down the front of your body. 

“Oh,” you whisper breathlessly as you run your fingers up and down the cold metal leash. You suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. You’ve never been in a position like this with any of your previous partners, most of them finding your desires to be too much. Your breath hitches as you sit in the silence. You can’t tell if Seungmin moved away from you or where he may be. Does he also find you undesirable? Is he disgusted by your wants? You drop your hands to the bed and feel around for him. “S-seungmin..” you whine as you’re worriedly searching for him. You start breathing heavier as you’re stressing over not being able to see him, hear him, or feel him.

You feel warm hands wrap around yours. “Hey, I’m right here pup.” You whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Do you want me to take the blindfold off?”

“No!” You reply a little too quickly. You shake your head. “N-no, I wanna keep it on… a-at least for a little while.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek again. “Ok, pup. For a little while.” He begins to pull his hand away from you but you quickly chase after it and pull him back to you. “Pup.” Seungmin sits beside you on the bed and lifts the blindfold off from your eyes. “Look at me,” he says in a soft but demanding tone. Your eyes take a minute to adjust to the light but you look directly in front of you and see Seungmin sitting inches from you, his face a whisper away from yours. He looks at your eyes and it feels like he’s searching for something in them. “Listen to me pup. You’ve been so good so far, such a good girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good, but I need you to trust me.” He gently runs his finger across your cheek. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’ll be right here and if you want me to stop at any time just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop immediately.” His gaze softens as he notices the slight quiver in your lips. “You really are new to this aren’t you pup?”

You nod your head. Seungmin carefully watches you as you open and close your mouth, trying to find the words you want to say. “Y-yes. Wanted to try, b-but no one…” you trail off as you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. “No one’s wanted to d-do this with me.”

Seungmins gaze darkens slightly and he looks away from you, his jaw firmly set. You reach your hand up and guide him to look at you again.

“Please teach me.” You whisper as you touch your forehead against his. “I trust you Seungmin,” you say in a featherlight voice, closing your eyes and bringing the blindfold back over your eyes.

Seungmin is perfectly still as he watches you in awe. His precious pup is gaining some confidence, you saying you trust him, you wanting him to teach you. He’s not sure he’s ready for it himself. He feels the tent in his pants tightening. “Of course I’ll teach you pup,” you feel the bed lift from in front of you and feel a searing smack against your ass. You whimper at the pain, feeling a hand smoothing over the red mark that was most definitely left behind. “Firstly, you called me the wrong name, pup, and for that, you need to be punished.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” You say breathless as Seungmin nips at your neck.

“You better hope it doesn’t.” There’s another slap on your ass. “I want you to count, pup. Starting now.” He lands another smack and you start counting in your head. Seungmin yanks you by your hair and forces you to lean against his chest, his voice seething and close to your ear. “Out loud pup.”

“O-one.” You say with a shaky breath.

“Good girl.” Seungmin praises as he pushes you back down on your hands and knees. You keen at the praise and you push your ass backwards awaiting the next round of slaps.

You count out loud for each slap across your ass. “Eighteen.” Slap. “N-nineteen.” Slap. “Twenty.” Seungmin rubs soothing circles on your ass as the sting subsides.

“Well done pup. You did a good job.” Seungmin guides you to lay down on your back. He gives you a few gentle pecks on your lips as he runs his fingers across your tummy. “I’m gonna tie you up, okay pup? Can you tell me your color?”

“Green, sir. P-please keep going.” You say as you try to reach for his hands. Seungmin chuckles and kisses your knuckles.

“Ok pup, I’ll keep going.” Seungmin kisses your forehead and walks towards the end of the bed. You hear him rummaging through the box and he slowly approaches you again. “Lift your hands.” 

You slowly lift your hands up and Seungmin places the toy in your hands. You wrap your fingers around the material and feel the coarse threads of the rope you had inside your box. “Can you tell me what it is, pup?”

“Rope, sir.” You say as you run your fingers over the rope. You know the rope is a deep crimson, a color you thought would look stunning against your skin. You were so nervous to proceed, but you wanted to trust Seungmin. He’d take care of you.

“That's very good. Very good girl.” Seungmin praises and takes the rope from your hands and helps you sit up. “Listen to me carefully. I am going to tie you up. The rope is going to be nice and tight around your skin. It’ll feel good, but if it's too tight or you're having a hard time breathing or you're nervous, you tell me immediately and I’ll cut you free. Do you understand?”

You smiled towards the direction of his face and nodded lightly. “I understand, sir.” You feel him run the rough material over your skin. You shudder at the feeling, goosebumps rising over your arms as the rope is wrapped around your body. Seungmin tightens the rope every so often around your chest, your hips, your thighs. You feel the wetness pooling between your legs as he continues slowly. He traces your skin before the rope tracks over the same space. You suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed by the intimacy of this type of play. Something you’ve never experienced before. Something you weren't prepared to feel. You noticed that Seungmin stopped his movements. “Pup.” Seungmin whispers, his lips grazing your shoulder as he places light kisses over the skin. He pulls your blindfold off and throws it off the bed. He’s looking at you with so much care in his eyes, but there's an underlying lust that he was holding back. “Don’t cry. Not yet.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying and you try to reach up to wipe the tears away quickly realizing that your arms are tied tightly to your sides. You start to fluster and your breathing picks up. “I-I’m sorry…” You start but Seungmin quickly places his hands on each side of your face and looks at you deeply.

“Hey, you’re ok. I’m right here. Color?”

“Y-yellow. Yellow, sir.” You say as you close your eyes feeling the tears pooling behind your eyes. Seungmin moves closer to you and places your forehead on his shoulder as he runs soothing lines up and down your spine and pats your head with his other hand. You two sit like that for a few moments, your breathing coming back to normal. “G-green.” 

Seungmin lightly pushes you back to sitting up. He smiles at you and grabs the rope again. He goes slower this time and finishes wrapping the rope around your body. He sits in front of you as you wiggle slightly as he asks if it's too tight. You promise him that you’re ok and he carefully lays you down on the bed again. He moves back to the box and pulls out the vibrator and the dildo. He returns to your side and traces the vibrator over the rope. You nod at him to continue and Seungmin smirks at you. He climbs on the bed and sits between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your soft skin as he turns the vibrator on.

He traces the vibrator over the rope and runs it along your arms. He slowly drags the vibrator between the valley of your breasts, making direct eye contact with you as he puts the device straight onto your nipple. You arch your back into the sensation and whine high as the vibrations send a wave of warmth down to your core. Seungmin spits into his hand and grabs the dildo, bringing it to your core and running it up and down your lips. You thrash at the feeling, bucking your hips to try to relieve the tension that's been building up between your legs since you and Seungmin were making out on your couch.

He teases the dildo against your entrance, slowly pushing the tip between your lips and quickly retreating, repeating the motion over and over again as he quickens the vibrations on your nipples.

“S-sir, please,” you plead, you need so much more than he’s giving you.

“Okay, pup, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin says sweetly as he forces the dildo into your core in one swift push. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, your walls pulse around the toy. He pulls the dildo out entirely and pushes it all the way in once again. There's a teasing smile on his lips as he pumped the toy deep into your cunt. 

“F-feels s-so good,” you whine as you roll your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. “W-want you, s-sir,” you say with a stroke of confidence. He slowed his pace and he looked at you carefully. Something flashes across his face for a brief moment, his dominant persona being replaced by something else, something more desperate. He shook his head and his dominant persona was back. He removed the dildo from your cunt and turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. He leaves you alone on the bed as you watch him remove his clothes, the waistband of his underwear catching on his hard cock, releasing it to let it slap against his stomach. You watch him in awe as he pumps his cock a few times, running a hand through his hair pushing it back, giving you the most exquisite view you've ever seen. Seungmin pauses his movements and smirks down at you.

“Would you like to stay tied up or do you want your hands?” Seungmin looks down at you cautiously but still with a fire behind his eyes that makes you want to hide behind your hands… if they were free.

“I’d like to stay t-tied please,” you say quietly, wiggling on the bed. Seungmin nods and crawls over you, running a finger down your cheek to your chin. He places a feather-light kiss on your nose and continues his light kisses down your neck as he lines himself up to your entrance. He pushes his tip in slowly and harshly snaps his hips into yours, punching the breath out of you. Seungmin stills as he places gentle kisses along your collarbone, snaking his hand up to gently hold your neck.

“Breathe, pup,” Seungmin whispers as he begins to thrust into you at a slow but calculated pace. There isn't any rhythm to his thrusts but the depth that he's reaching inside you already has you seeing stars. You let out shaky breaths, trying your best to focus on Seungmin’s piercing gaze. He’s staring down at you, taking in every single twitch and hitch in your breathing. He’s analyzing what feels good, gauging your reactions to each thrust, each touch. 

After a particularly pointed thrust you let out a high-pitched whimper and Seungmin’s gaze darkens. He starts thrusting in a steady rhythm now, hitting that spot that made you see stars, forcing high needy whimpers from your puffy lips. His hand on your neck tightens and his other hand finds your sweet little bundle of nerves. He lightly runs his finger over the bud and you attempt to reach down and pull his hand away from you, but your hands stay where they are, tied to your sides. You try to wiggle away from him but with his hand around your throat and his cock pressing deep inside your wet cunt you’re not entirely successful. Seungmin chuckles cynically at your attempt and he flicks his fingers over your clit repeatedly, watching as you hold back your moans with your lips pulled between your teeth and he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Feel good, pup?” You whine in response, unable to form coherent words at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. You think for a brief moment that Seungmin will punish you for not answering his question with words, but apparently, he doesn't mind this time and continues his assault on your clit. After a rough thrust, you muffle another moan. Seungmin slaps your messy cunt harshly before soothing his hands over the area. “Don’t hold back your pretty moans, pup. Lemme hear how loud you can be for me.”

You're a writhing mess below him. Moans, ragged breaths, and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard in your small bedroom. You felt like you could've come at least 10 times already but this time, you can feel it’s different. You want to touch him, pull him close to you, kiss him as you come. “M-min, pl-please stop,” you ask breathlessly.

It takes him a moment to pause his movements before he's looking down at you attentively, searching your features for any discomfort. “Did it hurt? Are you ok? Did I go too rough?” he asks calmly, but there is concern written all over his face. You wiggle your hands that are still bound to your sides and look down at them and look back up to him quickly. 

“Wan my hands,” you say quickly, adding an almost forgotten ‘please’ at the end. Seungmin looks down at your hands and quickly pulls at the knots, releasing your tired limbs from their hold, and resumes his previous pace before you have the time to recover. You yelp at the sudden movements and quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. “S-seungmin~” you whimper, “G-gonna, w-wanna cum.” 

Seungmin must be close as his grunting has gotten louder since you wrapped yourself around him. “Cum when you’re ready pup, getting close.” Seungmin pushes his nose into your neck, lapping his tongue along your skin, pressing messy kisses here and there as he moans into you.

You feel something deep in your stomach begin to tighten. You dig your nails into Seungmin’s back as your moans get higher in pitch. You babble incoherent phrases as you wrap your legs around his body, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. Seungmin quickened his fingers against your clit, sliding his fingers into your tight cunt with his palm resting on your puffy (and incredibly abused) clit. The additional intrusion was enough to push you over. You muttered out an incoherent sound along with a breathless, “c-cuhm”, as your body shudders and your cunt pulses around Seungmins cock and fingers. A loud shriek pushes past your lips as your climax rushes through you. Seungmin mumbles encouragements into your skin, kissing your ear, chin, and neck. “That’s it pup, wan you to feel so good. Such a good pup, my good pup.” 

You feel like you're floating as Seungmins pace begins to get more sloppy. He grinds into you as he groans more praises into your ear. “Good pup, so good for me. My good girl. Good pup, making me feel so good.” He curls his fingers up into your cunt adding pressure once again as he pushes in deeper, his tip kissing your cervix. “Cumin, pup, cuming,” he mumbles as he releases deep inside of you. The pressure of his fingers, his cock pushing against your cervix, and his cum filling you has another orgasm racing through you. You dig your nails into his back as you soundlessly cum again. Seungmin collapses on top of you, his breathing harsh as he softly rocks into you, riding out the last of both of your orgasms.

After a few moments, he pushes himself up to look down at you. He places a light kiss on your nose as he carefully removes himself from you. “Stay right there,” he whispers as he moves towards the bathroom. While he’s gone you catch your breath, stuck in a semi-trance. He’s back in a few moments with what looks like lotion and a towel. Seungmin makes quick and gentle work to wipe you down, rubbing lotion along your skin, all the while he's whispering sweet words to you. You feel so warm, so cared for, so wanted. He has you take a few sips of water before he pulls you into bed, letting you cuddle into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. As you slowly drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel so loved, so safe.

The weekend passes by quickly, Seungmin leaving only to gather some clothes from his house. He spends the weekends exploring you, learning your inner workings, how your mind ticks and functions, how your body reacts to the things he does, and how his mind and body react to you. He also spends a portion of the weekend sending emails which he tells you are simply to figure out when his suspension ends. On Monday Seungmin will return to school, and though it has only been three days, getting used to calling him Mr. Kim in school again seems daunting with you now being used to simply calling him Seungmin. 

“What if I just quit and go to another school?” You whisper as Seungmin parks the car in the school lot, Seungmin takes your hand softly, giving you a small smile before speaking. 

“Everything will be fine, Miss Y/L/N. No more harassment from students, or staff.” 

“How’d you know about the staff-” 

“I just know my love, but I promise you, no more.” You’re not sure how Seungmin can make such a promise but still. You make your way into your classroom, your students all waiting attentively for you to start your lesson. The few typical troublemakers in the back sit unusually silent as you begin. A knock on your door causes you to stop your slideshow as a woman you haven’t seen before walks in, followed by Seungmin directly behind her. He closes the door and waits patiently for the woman to speak. 

“Good morning students,” she starts, “Miss. Y/L/N.” she nods to you, “My name is Mrs. Im, as some of you may know,” she says as she stares to the back of the class where the usual group of boys sit up straight, some with their heads hung down. “I am your school's new principal. I’ve come to introduce myself. Miss. Y/L/N may I speak to you in the hallway quickly?” You nod as you follow her and Seungmin out into the hall. Your heart racing from not knowing what any of this was about. 

“Mr. Kim, Mrs. Im. What is this about?” 

“Miss. Y/L/N, I’ll need you to give me a list of the staff who have harassed you. I apologize for this being so sudden, but I’d like to rid my school of such behavior immediately.” Seungmin stands proud beside Mrs. Im as she speaks, “Though for now, I can only offer a suspension as we await investigation but I hope this helps you feel a bit safer within your workspace.” You nod softly as she smiles and walks away, leaving you alone for a moment with Seungmin.

“See my love? I told you. No more.” He smiles at you as he takes your hand gently in his, tracing his fingers across your digits and placing a soft and quick kiss on your fingertip. “Nothing bad's gonna happen to you anymore, not when I can help.” You can’t help the blush that dusts across your cheeks.

“I- uh, gotta get back to my class,” you say sheepishly as you slowly back towards your classroom. 

“I’ll meet you at the car after school?” He asks cooly as he tucks his hands into his pockets, smirking at you.

“Of course, Mr. Kim,” you sing-song back to him as you walk into your classroom. Seungmin stands in the hallway for a beat before he turns around, kicking his feet, and lightly chucking to himself. 

“My lovely little pup,” he whispers with a smile on his face as he walks down the hall, planning how he is going to have his way with you later this evening. 

➽──────────────❥

Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi @skzstaykatsy

#seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin drabbles #seungmin drabbles #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz drabbles #skz scenarios #stray kids seungmin #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x y/n #skz x you #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #seungmin hard hours #seungmin hard thoughts #kim seungmin hard hours #kim seungmin hard thoughts

[tobiasdrake]

Thinking about redemption yesterday got me thinking about fallen heroes today, and how rare it is to see a character initially painted as a hero be driven to heinousness for legitimate reasons.

Often times, if a hero goes bad, it's because of an external force corrupting their mind. Or it's a misunderstanding and they were secretly still good all along. Or they were just having a rough day and they'll be good again in five minutes.

We rarely see get to see heroes go sour purely on their own merits. Maybe because their values weren't so benign as they'd seemed when pushed to a natural conclusion. Maybe because they expected too much of themselves or of others. Or maybe personal experience taught them to believe something else.

Whatever the case, as often as writers will attempt to examine the transformative power of better angels, we rarely get to see the transformative power of worse devils.

Which brings me to....

Sayaka Miki is a character that holds a special place in my heart, not for overcoming her flaws but for being consumed by them. She's a cautionary tale into the perils of righteousness.

I need to preface this by bringing up that the characters of Madoka Magica are children. They're irrational, judgmental, ignorant of risk, and quick to throw themselves into horrible mistakes with absolute confidence. Because they're children. That's how this works. The villain of the series is a psychological predator who feeds on the impulsivity and poor judgment of youth, grooming them into self-destruction.

The entire system of Magical Girls exists to give these children enough rope to hang themselves with and then to kick the ladder out from under them. That is the plot, with Sayaka being the primary means by which the show demonstrates the complete journey from rope to ladder.

I just. I need you to understand that even at her worst, Sayaka is a victim of predatory incentives and calculated coercions meant to cultivate her worst traits while stripping her of hopes and dreams. To drown her in mistakes she could never take back. She didn't have the life experience to know better. That's why her predator targets children.

Sayaka's rope is woven from virtuous self-image. It's not immediately apparent when we meet her, but Sayaka's fatal flaw is ego. Her moral compass is wound extremely tight, and it's only later that we realize it's wound around her neck.

Like many children, Sayaka is trying on an identity moreso than expressing her inner self. She wants to be altruistic. She wants to be selfless. She wants to be a true hero. She wants to live by nothing more than high-minded ideals, expecting no reward for her efforts (but receiving it all the same).

She wants to be the kind of person that Mami was.

But she has no idea who Mami was. She wasn't there to see Mami fracture. To see her break down in vulnerability and express the isolating misery she lives in.

Sayaka didn't see that. She only saw how cool Mami looked when she was killing Witches. So when she tries on an identity, she's specifically trying on the identity of Mami - blissfully unaware that her interpretation of Mami was nothing but a mask. She is emulating the behavior of a victim already consumed by the predatory incentives she's accepting.

Sayaka was doomed from the moment she made her wish.

Once again, the show does a brilliant job of concealing this at first. Right off the bat, it's easy for Sayaka to be the hero. She saves both her BFFs Madoka and Hitomi from a Witch in her debut adventure, before being immediately thrust into a moral argument that's super easy for her to win.

This is what a hero looks like! Should we stand by and let monsters eat people YES/NO

Sayaka says no. Sayaka says letting monsters eat people is bad. Solid Bioware-level moral dilemma she's got here. Sayaka won +10 Paragon points for the choices she picked out of this conversation tree, lemme tell you!

Moments like this work to disguise what's going on here with Sayaka. Obviously Sayaka's making good choices and doing the right thing when the alternative is Kyoko going "Want me to break your crush's limbs so he needs you for life support?" That's awful, so since Sayaka's against it then that means she must be right. Right?

Kyoko is the devil. Sayaka is the paragon.

But this is a story about nuanced and complex people. Sayaka isn't that person. Sayaka likes the idea of being that person. She's being dishonest - With herself, with others around her, and with the universe.

She's trying on an identity, not fully understanding who she really is or what her limitations are.

Incidentally, so is Kyoko, which is what makes their Yin and Yang dichotomy so potent. Having never been tested like this before, Sayaka is more selfish than she truly understands - While Kyoko, damaged by trauma, is more selfless than she wants to believe.

The thing Sayaka doesn't quite grasp is that, to an extent, it's okay to be selfish. It's okay to want things for yourself. Again, the identity she's trying to live up to was a lie to begin with. She only saw the mask; Never the humanity underneath. So she fails to recognize her own humanity; Her own needs and wants and desires.

She imprisons her own mind in a cage of altruism.

Sayaka is warned multiple times against spending her wish on another person. But she doesn't understand the perils of it. She lacks the necessary perspective to grasp the level of sacrifice she's making. (Because she is a child. I cannot stress this point enough.)

When she makes her wish, Sayaka wants her sacrifice reciprocated. She wants to be rewarded. But she doesn't want to want that. She wants to be the selfless hero for Kyosuke. To silently grant him a miracle because it's the right thing to do for her friend. But she expects, without consciously thinking about it, that the universe will deliver her nice things because she is good.

But life doesn't work like that. It doesn't give you things you aren't willing to reach for. Sayaka said she just wanted him to be happy. She just wanted to help people. She just wanted to dedicate her life to virtue and altruism, with no wants or needs or desires of her own.

Kyoko was being cruel and unfeeling when she suggested crippling Kyosuke; She was trying to express a mask of selfishness, the same way Sayaka's been trying to express a mask of selflessness. But she wasn't the only person telling Sayaka that it was a mistake to do this. She's just the only person who said it after the fact.

So the universe calls her bluff. While Sayaka waits for her sacrifices to be rewarded, fracturing more and more from learning what those sacrifices truly entail, someone else claims her prize. The work gets harder, not just physically but emotionally. And she only gets what she asked for. Nothing more.

This is what a hero looks like. She wanted to be Mami.

Remind me. What was Mami's reward for her sacrifices?

Oh. Yeah. That's right.

The thing of it is, there is a reward for a Magical Girl's sacrifices. There is a prize you're meant to receive for the unjust hardships and self-destruction that you're volunteering to undertake.

It's the fucking wish.

That she, in her righteousness, gave away.

Sayaka's rope is woven from virtuous self-image. Her fatal flaw is ego. She was undone by arrogance expressed in ignorance, not of glory the way we often think of egotistic people, but of righteousness. She held herself to a standard no reasonable person could ever live up to, and it crushed her as it came crashing down.

And yet, she was a victim all the same. Because she was walked, hand-in-hand, to that pier by a predator. Children are meant to learn from their mistakes. Not to die for them.

#puella magi madoka magica #sayaka miki

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I know theres a lot ot talk of Hobie's past and I love the idea of BigFamily!Hobie. But may I PLEASE add to the table:

StreetKid!Hobie -

It's not as happy or wholesome of a backstory as Hobie with a big family, and a big community - but there's still tenderness there I PROMISE.

Like - Maybe Hobie understood what Gwen was going through because he's been through it himself. He knows what it's like.

I like the headcanon that Hobie just...didn't have a family. No tragic backstory or anything. Just the sharp reality that the system lets some kids fall through the cracks.

Because it's a story or reality we hardly ever see, but it's one that exists - being a homeless street kid. We hardly see that story in it's entirety, rather than just the dramatic scenes.

But like STREETKID!HOBIE

He doesn't have anyone to take him to school or buy him uniforms - so he went to the library to teach himself. He doesn't have much money, but the men at the kebab shops know him, the kid that comes in asking for 'anything they've got' , with 2 pounds 50 pence. So they start feeding him, free of charge.

He helps run errands for the old ladies, and they make sure he has clothes for the winter. They'll knit him sweaters and scarves, and give them to him, telling him to run home and get inside, not knowing that might not be an option for him.

But even if they don't know the whole story, the know Hobie the streetkid, who looks tough but has a heart of gold and will help with anything - the kid who'll feed the stray cats before himself.

Most nights, he sleeps at F.E.A.S.T - because we always talk about how great F.E.A.S.T is but never what it's like to actually have to live there as a homeless person for an extended period of time.

The adults know his face, they worry if they don't see him in a bit. They set blankets aside for him, ask him if he's eaten, and for the first time in forever, maybe in his life, he has people who cares - people who want to help.

F.E.A.S.T makes Hobie wanna help people.

And THAT's where he finds his family.

He starts finding other kids too. Older Streetkids start helping him out. They let him squat with them, and show him how to do things like steal electronics, and which shops throw out a bunch of good food at night.

And he starts meeting people, and seeing the teens that'll make him person he is later.

He starts hanging out with them more and more - and they start calling him Hobie.

The take him under their wing. They looked out for him, made sure nobody messed with the youngest of the bunch.

Anywhere they sleep or squat - Hobie does too. And on the nights that it's the worse, that's it too much, or too scary - or the nights where he's just angry at the world,

They're there to remind him there's kindness in the world.

That kindness and joy and having a laugh with the mandem is RADICAL, it's an act of defiance, and a form of power. And that you don't need a big house with the picket fence and 2.5 kids to grow up 'right'.

One of the street kids give him his first patches. They snag him the leather vest he wears today, back when he was tiny and short and he had grow into it.

They taught him everything he knows - from laces code to how to stud a jacket. They start taking him to protests, starts explaining why things are the way they are, how the system is meant to keep people like them down.

They teach him what ACAB means and true anarchy

The first person he ever met wearing blue laces - was a Streetkid. An older kid that Hobie couldn't help but look up to, or even be a little jealous of. A cooler kid with tall leather boots and blue laces.

And when the kid smirked and told him what they meant, Hobie couldn't help but think 'That's SO kickass'.

One night, one of the kids brings a record they stole. They play it on the player - and it's Ramones. Hobie, maybe only 13, hearing rock for the first time.

And he's wide eyed and asking who that is, who's playing the guitar, what's the song name, and the older kids just smirk and chuckle cause they KNOW -

That's when Hobie falls in love with rock.

And Hobie spends his teens with these people, becoming the punk rock anarchist god he is. He learns how to help people like they help him.

Some of those kids are still around, some on their feet now, and some living free, sticking with the life of a Streetkid by choice. Some he sees often - they're the ones he has a laugh with at the pub.

Others, have moved on, or passed away.

And one day Hobie looks around and realizes he's the oldest one now. He looks around and realizes he's the older street kid now. He's the big bro - and he loves it.

Gwen wasn't the only one staying there when she lived with him. She's not the first Society recruit either.

Because of the streetkids that gave him a family, Hobie is who he is - he has a houseboat that always has at least one or two kids staying there, just looking for a place to stay or a meal to eat.

No matter what - Hobie will help.

At to all the StreetKids that came before, Hobie remembers them all - all the help they gave him and all the times they saved him. He hopes that one day, there are people to remember him too, the same way.

Because that's what he wants to be remembered for.

Because he's not a hero - SpiderPunk isn't the hero. Those streetkids were the heroes.

They way they helped him - is the way he helped Gwen.

I need more StreetKid!Hobie SO BAD S OBADDDDLLY

What if Hobie's brown ideology and fashion and beliefs and his love for everyone around him is a reflection of the very teens who raised him and kept him safe and they're the reason why he does any of this to begin with for the streetkids MY GOODDDDDD

HOBIE BROWN - THE PATRON SAINT OF WARWARD TEENS

#BACK ON MY HOBIE SHIT #i was never off it #also no proofread lol #spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #Hobie headcanons #hobie brainrot

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 13

Masterlist

Warnings: Stalker vibes, confrontations, anxiety.

Photo by shaazjung on Instagram

"There's something you haven't explained to me." Billy says suddenly.

You pause, from sending your messages, looking across at him from your spot in the passenger seat.

You raise your eyebrows expectantly.

"Why do you think hackers- or people trying to breach security in general- would underestimate the level of sophistication of the system?"

You take a deep breath, lean back.

"Because," You say with a tired sigh, "When they search up the company structure, they'll see me as a consultant."

"You?"

"Female." You clarify.

"You really think that people will make that assumption?"

"Why not? It's been happening for most of my life anyway, I'm just weaponising it now."

He's silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through that."

"It's fine," You sing, "It means I get to design a system that looks dumb but ruins some fucker's life."

He smiles fondly, glancing over at you.

"Come over to my place next week, I'll do the cooking this time."

You hum, prolonging your response so that it seems like you take some time to decide.

In reality, saying no was never an option.

"Sure, I'd like that."

You don't notice the way his shoulders drop subtly, relaxing, just moments after.

.

It's not as difficult to leave your place alone as it was before.

Sure, for those first few weeks after the robbery, you'd only gone to and from work with Billy and occasionally, one of your friends would accompany you to the supermarket.

Today, when Amy calls to find out of you're still on for later, you pause, and tell her that maybe you're going to try to go by yourself today.

She's quiet for a moment, and you can almost hear her thinking.

"Okay, but please call if you feel even a little bit unsure?" You can hear the worry in her voice, you know that she's thinking about the first time she accompanied you, and you hid in the bathroom for ten minutes cause you thought you were being followed.

"I will, Amy, thank you."

Truthfully, you could never shake the feeling that you were being watched.

It went with you everywhere, like a shadow that just kept coming back no matter how much light you shined on it.

You tried to take deep breaths, and reassure yourself that everything was okay. It was the best you could do.

Billy was the only person that made you feel completely safe, his knowledge and background meant that you could very much trust whenever he said you weren't being followed.

But now? Alone like this, you try not to look over your shoulder too many times when examining apples, or not to freeze up when someone got too close to you.

Overall, at the cashier, you find yourself a little glad that you're able to at least get this far despite anything that may happen later.

It's a step in the right direction for your self-empowerment, a reminder that time can sometimes help repair the damage caused by traumatic events.

You're piling your groceries into the trunk of your car when you hear someone say your name.

Freezing in fear is a normal response for you, but once again, you do your best to breathe through it, and turn.

"Andrew? Hello," you greet.

Your former boss gives you a sharp smile and approaches. You take your time, assessing him as a possible threat.

He looks a bit sallow, the underneath of his eyes are a little grey, possibly with lack of sleep, a shadow of a beard sprouting on the base of his face.

He looks a bit unkempt, his hands in his pockets and you make sure to casually put your trolley between him and you for safety.

"You look like you're doing great." He says, taking in your piles of items, and then carefully looking at you.

You watch his eyes trail down your body and your head lights up with warning signs.

You smile politely, nodding your head.

"I'm fine, I hope you are too." You offer lightly, trying to finish packing your car as quickly as possible.

"Well, when you left, the everyone was counting on Anvil to accept our offer. When he declined, the board decided I wasn't good enough at my job."

You swallow. Is that was this was? A guilt trip?

"I'm sorry to hear that." You state calmly.

He takes a shaky step forward, and you stand your ground looking right at him. You think if he tried something, the shopping cart would come in handy in keeping him away from you.

"It's odd though, I keep playing my last meeting with Russo over and over in my head, and do you know what stood out to me?"

You don't respond.

"What stood out," he continues, "Is that Russo only wanted you."

So this was an accusation.

"Now why would he want someone like you, if you weren't fucking him?"

You press your teeth together angrily.

"Fuck. You." You grit out.

He blinks, having never seen you this angry before. You continue before he has the chance to speak.

"You think I wanted to leave? I left because you kept treating me like shit. Over and over again, and now you think you can come here and accuse me of this? No wonder you got fired when I left, because you couldn't keep taking credit for my work."

"You little bitch." He says taking another step forward until his body is right against the shopping cart. He grips the metal side of it, leaning forward even more in an attempt to get into your space.

"I vouched for you so many times. I'm the reason you got this job in the first place. You were nobody, nothing, until I decided to give you a chance. I've been watching you for a week now, trying to get you alone to talk to you, and you've been hooked to William Russo like dirt under his boot, and you want to tell me you aren't fucking him?"

You feel the fear of realization sink under your skin. Your stomach turns, making you nauseated.

"You've been following me?" You ask, in a much smaller voice than you want to.

He frowns, pushes away from the trolley and turns his back to you for a moment.

"Don't flatter yourself, I only wanted to talk."

He grits out.

You don't say anything, just watching his figure, trying to figure out how to get away from him.

You close your trunk, he watches you return your cart to the little docking station nearby.

"I'm sorry for the way things turned out." You say to him finally, trying to ease the tension.

He studies you for a long moment.

"You can fix this. Bring Russo back to us, they'll take you back, you can vouch for me like I once vouched for you."

"I'm not going to do that."

He grunts angrily, taking steps to approach you.

You back away, but he just keeps coming, he's almost in your personal space when suddenly a hand claps down on his shoulder.

The parking lot security guard looks very stern as he pulls Andrew a safe distance away from you.

"Is this man bothering you?" The security inquires in your direction.

You gulp, thinking that if you said 'yes,' you'd be forced to stand around here for longer.

"A bit, but I just want to leave." You finally say.

The guard nods, standing as a wall between Andrew and you, and you take the out, sliding into your car as fast as you can and reversing out of your park.

You don't look back.

.

'I don't suppose you could spare a moment to come over?' You send in his direction.

You swallow, turning your phone over in your hands, deep in thought.

You phone vibrates, you glance down.

'Be there in 5.'

"It's open." You say, when you hear a knock on the door.

He comes through slowly, no harsh sounds ever present when he's around.

"I know this building is safe, but you really should check before you let people in. What if that wasn't me?"

You don't answer, just staring at him as he locks the door behind him.

You sigh, your feet tucked under you as you lounge on your couch, your third glass of wine cupped securely in your hands.

You look up when he says your name.

You study him the same way he studies you. His hair is wet from a recent shower, but he's dressed comfortably this time, in black sweatpants and a soft green hoodie. He looks so comfortable, and the words 'boyfriend material' spring to mind, your mouth twitches, deep in thought, thinking about what he would say if you said that to him.

"Are you alright?" He asks after studying you.

You nod, taking another long sip of wine. He looks behind you, probably noting the abundance of unpacked groceries on your kitchen counter. You'd brought most of them up, only really worrying about the frozen and refrigerated items before you'd stopped, in favour of the sweet white you were now holding.

"Sometimes, I really hate the field I chose."

Billy looks at you for a moment, trying to read into you, but you know he doesn't have all the information.

"Why?" He asks, stepping forward and dropping into the spot beside you easily.

You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, looking up at him.

"It would be easier. I could have picked the culinary arts instead of this and no one would question if I was sleeping with my boss everytime I did something good."

"Someone accused you of that?" Billy asks evenly, doesn't take his eyes off of you.

You sigh, nodding, swirling your wine around in your little cup- not using a piece of glassware out of fear that you may break it.

"Andrew," You say softly to Billy, despair heavy in the farthes reaches of your mind.

"He followed me, confronted me, accused me, and then tried to bargain with me to come back."

You sigh, sniffling for a brief moment, fighting the pressure behind your eyes as tears pool.

You blink quickly to stop them from falling.

"He told me that I would be nothing without him. And all the way home I kept thinking that if I'd just picked something else, anything else, I might be a little bit happier."

A teardrop splashes into your wine, you wipe at it quickly.

He lets out a slow breath and you glance up at him in surprise, half realising that he's still here, watching you.

His dark eyes are tender, studying you in great detail before lifting a hand and crooking two fingers at you.

"Come here." Is all he says.

You breathe out a rush of air, knocking back the last two moutfuls of wine in your cup before setting the item on the little table in front of you.

You move slowly, giving him a chance to change his mind, leaning into him, and slowly resting your head into the crook of his neck.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer until you're half seated in his lap.

There's just a rightness to being in his arms that finally breaks the dam inside of you. You let out a little sob, and his arms tighten around you as your body begins to shake as you cry.

"Sorry," you hiccup, "I- I'm sorry."

He shushes you softly, his cheek resting on the top of your head.

You feel small in his arms, a fragile thing made to be picked up and cared for and he very sensation makes you cry harder because it feels good, and you find yourself unable to gather the strength to think about pulling away from him. His scent is around you, his body pressed so tightly to yours that there's no gap between you.

There's a small abstract moment in your head, that you're able to identify a wholeness that wasn't there before.

You shiver, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, noting the feeling that you'd never realised you were missing something until he took you into his arms.

His thumbs wipe at your fresh tears, pushing them back, forcing them away.

You press your head back against his chest, shudders out a sigh as his arms go right back around you.

"There's so much I want to say," Billy starts, "I don't even know where too begin."

You sniffle.

"You don't have to." You murmur, hoping that he doesn't feel obligated to comfort you with his words.

You feel your head begin to swim as your third glass of wine begins to catch up to you.

"When I started Anvil, I had nothing." He says, his voice smooth and deep in your ear.

"There was me, and an idea, and I made a lot of questionable deals in order to get my company started."

You hear him swallow.

"There was one man, he believed that because he gave me a chance when no one else would, that he owned me. He treated me like his own personal dog, and for a couple of years, all I did was whatever he asked."

You listen intently, melting into him as he begins to rub circles into your lower back.

"It took me a while- longer than I'd care to admit- to understand that just because he helped me, it didn't mean I owed him everything. Sure, his generosity was appreciated, but it was my work that took Anvil off the ground, and seeing how far it's come, how far it has yet to go, and how much good it does makes it worthwhile for me."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"What I'm saying is, that you don't owe anyone a damn thing. Your successes are your own, because you did them." He makes a little sound of amusement at the back of his throat before continuing, "You're the secret ingredient."

You sniffle, smiling at his words.

"Andrew thinks he gave you these opportunities out of the goodness of his heart, but that's bullshit. You showed him who you were, and he picked you because he thought you were good at your job."

"And you?" You ask, desperate to hear it, "Why did you pick me?"

He makes a tiny huff of amusement.

"Because I love my company," You feel his face press into your hair, "And I wanted to give it the best chance, which is you."

You sigh, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, breathing in that amazing spiced scent, before relaxing fully, turning to a boneless mass in his arms.

"Thank you." You finally say to him.

He makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, you feel the vibration against your cheek.

He doesn't let go, and you have to motivation to pull away.

You're so at ease that you can't help closing your eyes, falling asleep in his arms without a second thought.

.

He holds you for a long while, a stupid smile on his face as he breathes in your strawberry scent.

When he's sure he won't wake you, he slips a hand under your knees, and stands with you in his arms.

You make a little sound, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck.

Billy takes his time, walking you to your bedroom, pulling the covers back and placing you down.

You don't let go of him, clinging like a koala, his eyes widen as you almost pull all of his body weight on top of yourself, he catches his weight on his arms before he crushes you.

He tries to pull away but you're not having it, maneuvering him in your sleep, until he's on his back, and your body is cradled against his, your head on his chest.

He lets out a breath of amusement, raising the hand that isn't pinned under you to stroke you hair.

He hears you hum in bliss and he smiles.

He wants to worship you so badly, kiss every inch of your skin, and then twice over for good measure.

He can't help it, pressing his thumb over the pout of your lips, his heart flipping when you draw even closer to him.

How can he pull himself away from you now? What kind of strength would that take?

Billy thinks about what would happen if he stayed right here beside you, if you wake up in the morning and find him here, you'd probably be so at ease.

He wanted that, he would probably kiss you at some point.

He can feel his heart racing as he thinks about it, kissing you breathless, giving you rounds of uninhibited pleasure, hearing you beg for him as if he would ever deny you.

But what about after?

He swallows, worried about after.

He wouldn't be able to keep himself away from you. Once, would never be enough.

He'd have to have you, over and over and over, never wanting to hide your relationship.

But that would make rumors true, it would invalidate your successes because you were sleeping with your boss.

The breath that escapes him is so pained that it takes him a second to take another.

He'd never forgive himself if he ruined your reputation that way.

He sighs, tracing the back of his hand over your cheeks and listening to the way you sigh.

He knew what you wanted, your body made it crystal clear everytime he was around you, calling out for him, and if he were a weaker man, he'd oblige.

His relationship with control was strained on a good day. The military had helped him focus his anger, train his rage and his bloodlust, but nothing had trained him to control his desire.

As Billy looked at you, sleeping in his arms, he felt his control grinding down with each breath you took.

It was only a matter of time.

.

Alone.

Again.

You sit up, taking a sad breath.

How did he always manage to slip away from you? Why?

What would it take to wake up next to him?

A question that goes unanswered.

In your kitchen, you're stunned to find that all your groceries have been packed away, only a few items in unfamiliar places. A warm feeling in your chest, you almost want to text him and thank him, except that you remember the last time you did that he left you on read. You decide to tell him in person when he's taking you to work.

You get dressed for work like usual, but when you're halfway ready, you pause, thinking about Dani's words from a few days ago.

In an effort to torment him, you shed your fancy work shirt and grab one of the work appropriate dresses in your closet.

It's sky blue, with half sleeves and matching belt. You're not sure if it will even catch his eye, but you decide to try anyway.

Except that when you step out of your aparment building, it's not Billy waiting for you.

You've seen Sergei around before, but you blink in surprise when he nods his head at you, and pulls open the back door of the car he's standing in front of.

Your heart plummets.

He'd sent someone else to pick you up.

You smile at Sergei, asking him for a moment before you pull your phone from your pocket and dial his number.

"Russo." Is what he says when he answers.

"Hey," You greet lightly, trying to be quick, "Did you send someone else to take me to work?"

He's silent for a moment.

"Yes, I-"

"Okay thank you," you interrupt, not interested in hearing what he had to say, "Just checking to make sure. Bye."

You end the call, staring at your phone for a second before shaking your head.

You turn to Sergei, giving him a smile and a word of thanks as you slide into the back seat of the car.

"Do you have any music preferences?" He asks kindly, and you wonder briefly if that was even in the scope of his job.

"Anything is good with me." You respond, crossing your arms and looking out the window angrily as he begins to drive.

You have many hindsight realisations on your way to work, that you really could have driven yourself. The only reason you were okay with Billy taking you is because he was going in the same direction anyway.

This just seemed like way too much time and effort to get you to work.

You try to make excuses for Billy, like maybe something urgent happened at work, or something personal, you didn't really know every aspect of his life now did you?

But you knew in the back of your head, that this was something he always does. He gets close, gives you blissful peace, and then pulls away, ignores you for a few days.

Frankly, you've hit your boiling point, and by the time you get to work, you're fuming.

You drop your things on your desk, and you give your coworker a big smile when she compliments your dress.

You'd worn it for him. Pathetic.

You make it up to his office, smiling at Katerina, his secretary, asking her if he's available and waiting for a yes before you knock on his door and enter when he says.

He doesn't even look up at you.

Taking notes at his desk, and there's just so much anger inside of you that you're not really thinking straight.

"Is there something you need?" He asks flatly, still not sparing you a single glance.

So he knows it's me, you think, and yet somehow he refuses to look up.

It cuts like betrayal.

"I can drive myself to work from now on, thank you."

He pauses, finally, looking up at you.

You watch him swallow.

"I insist, really, it's safer this way." He says.

"But inefficient," you counter, "To have Sergei go out of his way no doubt, when I have a perfectly good car."

He looks like he wants to argue, but can't form the right words.

He stands, eyebrows drawn, coming to stand in front of you.

It's probably a bad idea on his part, given your warped headspace, your eyes drop to his lips for a brief moment, before going back up to his dark eyes when he speaks.

"Very well, if you insist on driving, it's your choice."

You nod sharply, your throat closing up in despair. Was this the end of your friendship?

"Good." You say, no emotion in your tone, "One more thing."

"Yes?" He asks.

You swallow, grabbing the knot of his tie and pulling him down a little, while simultaneously rising onto your toes.

You don't give it a second thought, pressing your mouth to his.

It's like fireworks going off in your head, sparks spilling over and scattering into the farthest reaches of your mind.

You let out a little sigh of bliss into his mouth before releasing your grip on his tie.

You pull back from his mouth, taking a deep breath to apologise when suddenly his hands are on your hips. You feel the way his fingers twitch, as if he's fighting something bigger than you.

You gasp as he pulls you closer, body pressed tightly to his and you look up into his eyes.

He angles his head down, and his mouth is on yours once more.

He returns the kiss this time, with eager hums and steady pressure. It's greater than any other kiss you've ever experienced.

Your chest feels warm, your stomach flips, sizzling sparks work their way over your skin.

Your hands grip his shoulders, snaking their way up behind his neck.

He groans, hot breath into your parted mouth and you accept the sound greedily, more desperate for him than ever before.

He turns you, presses you up against his desk, braces his arms on either side of you for a moment before his hand cups the back of your neck securely.

It's all consuming, the way his mouth moves this way and that, the friction of his beard on your chin the taste of his mouth threatening to undo you.

His blunted fingers pressing tight into your skin, his hands wander your body, reaching for your knee, raising it to wrap around his hip. Your clothed center just barely brushes a hint of stiffness at the front of his pants and all you're thinking in various levels of enthusiasm is 'yes.'

The loud pitch of his ringing phone startles you. You shove him away quickly in surprise, gasping as you slide from your spot between him and his desk.

Your body is hot, cunt throbbing, skin hypersensitive and aching for his hands.

You suck in a big breath, smoothing your hair over in a panicked frenzy and running your hands down your dress.

Oh God.

Oh God.

Had you really just did that? Kissed him when you'd come in here to tell him off?

You try to take another measured breath but Billy seems to have taken all the air in the room with just one touch of his lips.

.

"Russo." Billy says, leaning over the desk, putting his phone on loudspeaker.

"Apologies for interrupting, but Miss Meachum is here and demanding to meet."

Billy huffs, of course he'd be interrupted by a Meachum. The entire family never understood boundaries.

He looks over at you, facing the windows, taking deep breaths and looking more and more flustered by the second.

"Tell her I'll be with her shortly." He says, hanging up right after.

He studies you, the ripe scent of your arousal filling the air. The panther tears at him, to sit you on his desk and follow through with exactly what he was about to do.

When he resists, the beast plants images of you writhing in pleasure as he licks your strawberry sweet cunt. His cock is half-hard, growing more erect with each second his mind replays what it was like to finally have your soft lips on his.

He swallows, opens his mouth to speak.

You beat him to it.

"I'll drive myself to work from now on." You utter harshly.

He watches in disbelief, mouth parted, as you head to the door, opening it and stepping out without so much as a glance at him.

It's all he needs to realize how much he's fucked up.

.

.

.

A/N: sorry 😞

#werepanther!billy russo #billy russo #monster!billy #monster!billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #ben barnes #billy russo fic #billy russo x y/n

[octuscle]

You’re so good at transforming others so I was wondering if I could thank you by transforming you. Who do you want to become? 😊💪

I am almost 27 years old. I graduated from university almost two years ago. Since then, I have been working for an auditing company, auditing the risk management systems of banks. Not a particularly erotic job. But well paid. I travel a lot and my working hours are also less from 09:00 to 17:00. Not good conditions for getting back into shape. I used to be a competitive athlete. Open-water swimming. My shoulders and back are still quite broad… But the waist is no longer as narrow as it was in my best days. Well… The course of life, I would say…

Sunday morning. Normally I would sleep in, go somewhere for breakfast, then maybe do a bit of work. But today I feel like going for a run. At 06:00 in the morning. In the drizzle. I'm really crazy! But running clears my head. After just under an hour, I pass an outdoor gym in the city park. Yawning empty in this weather, of course. I really enjoy it! It's almost 10:00 when I get back home. Now for a hot shower. Uh, no. A cold shower! Hardens off. And then breakfast. Low-fat quark, protein powder, bananas, some fruit. Doesn't taste particularly good. But gives me the energy I need. A bit of Resident Evil 3 to relax. And around 3 p.m. I have to make my way to the stadium. Kick-off is at 5:30 p.m., and I'd like to be in my regular place in the south curve at 4 p.m. Getting in the mood with the boys. Highlight of the week!

Hehehe, that was a good brawl with the opponent's fans last night. That's a good black eye… And my lip is still a bit swollen too. Looks a bit dangerous. Despite the crisp white shirt, navy blue suit and polished black Oxfords. Even after a year on the job, I still haven't got used to getting up early on Mondays. Mondays are usually at 03:30. An hour of push-ups and a bit of weights training, as best I can at home. And then get ready, go to the airport and usually the plane takes off at 07:00 or so. And then I'm back to being the good auditor candidate. It's not as if the job isn't fun. But especially after the weekends, which are packed with hard training and fun with the lads in and around the stadium, the changeover is tough. I can only hope that none of my customers or colleagues ask me who beat me up like that at the weekend. I can't say that I'm one of the militant Ultra fans… Well, if anyone asks, I'll say that it happened during boxing training. They'll take my word for it. At the latest when I take off my jacket and people see my shirt, which looks like it's been painted onto my skin, nobody questions the boxer in me anymore.

05:30 on a Tuesday morning. An hour's run, then an hour's workout in the hotel gym, breakfast, 09:00 at the client's desk. A routine that I would never have expected a few weeks ago when I was doing my Master's degree. With your criminal record, the blatant undercut, the tattoos on your neck and the back of your hands, you'll never get a serious job, my parents complained. But damn it, I'm clever, I'm disciplined and I'm hungry for success. In the cage at MMA, in the fan curve at the stadium, at university and now at work. And fuck, when I show up at a customer's in a suit that perfectly accentuates my athletic figure, I'm surrounded by an aura of respect. Even if I'm the rookie in the project. For the first few days, my colleagues tried to persuade me to go out for dinner or a drink with them in the evening. Not in the mood! I found a club near the hotel where I can train properly in the evenings. Not the kind of wimpy workout I get at the hotel.

I'm so fed up with this fucking Master's thesis. Pumping, eating, fighting… This is what I live for! I've been working at the martial arts school since I got my bachelor's degree. On the one hand in accounting. And also as a trainer. Shit, why do I even want anything else? Would I like it better if I became an desk jockey in some office? I suspect not.

I love the moment when I open my gym in the morning. The sweat from last night is still in the air. Whoever had the last shift yesterday didn't leave anything tidy. I do my rounds and stuff forgotten socks, jockstraps and water bottles into the lost-and-found box. Okay, I wank on it again first. There's nothing like the smell of a used jockstrap that's still a little damp. I don't officially open for another hour, so I have that long to get my body ready for the day with the weights and sandbag. Let's see how full it gets. The place isn't yet self-sustaining. But with my jobs as a bouncer and my OF account, I'm more than able to keep my head above water. At least my tattoo artist doesn't have to worry about me not paying my bills. It's better that way. After all, it's his job to make sure I'm scary!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #age reduction #ai image

[hadesoftheladies]

"Not All Men" is a War Propaganda Tactic

i just watched a tragic documentary on the british colonial regime in kenya with my mom and dad, and they were talking to me about the experiences of my grandparents during the era of slavery, resistance and concentration camps and i learned so much about the history of my family, country and tribe and how my mom and dad came from different sides of class history in kenya

that's a story i'll share later on here sometime

but one thing that struck me that i wanted to talk about was how documents indicting the british government of horrific cruelty were buried and sometimes addressed as isolated incidents

the british government, despite the uncovering of the hanslope disclosure files, denied that they sanctioned or approved of any of those things

systemically sanctioned practices, once exposed, were then announced to be isolated events due to the irresponsibility of a particular branch or administration

basically, when the human rights violations came up (and this was addressed in i think 2013), the british government denied direct involvement and acted as if it were just a few men gone rogue

and that propaganda WORKED

there are british people today (and even some kenyans) who don't think the colonial regime was all that oppressive; maybe legally wrong, but not monstrous and sordid and grotesque

and it really is an effective war tactic to blame individuals so that the system itself is ignored. you send concerned, everyday people chasing after villains in narratives you created, throwing your minions to the wolves so they're off your trail, while insisting that the system and the people who uphold the system are at worst benign and, at best benevolent

so it stops the people from organizing against the system

this is also the case with feminism

every time women participate in consciousness-raising, the people and events that would serve as proof of the failure of the system and how those in power are unfit to rule, the conversation quickly dissolves into "not all men" or "do you think women are naturally more moral than men? that's bio-essentialism."

guys . . . this is a tried and true propaganda war tactic. it is effective because not only does it distract anyone willing to do their part to make the world a better place, but it successfully discredits the evidence and voices of victims as "fringe" and no one's fault but the individual's. it's really just a form of gaslighting.

eventually, people end up getting mad at the tumors while not dealing with or seeing cancer. they'll denounce that convicted serial rapist/killer because his crimes are visible, provocative and out there

but the moment a woman opens her mouth to criticize rape as culture in bdsm or porn, it's "not all men" because the only bad men are those men, those bad ones on tv whose mugshots we've seen

we've seen this happen with men defending andrew tate, and then backing down when he's arrested for human trafficking, but no feminist was shocked because we recognized tate's rhetoric and the system it was born in, we saw the natural conclusions, we know where the tumor is coming from

but we're only supposed to talk about the tumor, because that's the most visible and provocative

so the cancer continues to spread quietly and freely

#colonialism #feminism #propaganda #radblr #radfem

[nottapossum]

Itty Bitty Sinners Chapter 1.1: The Test!

Summary: Classification tests aren't typically taken by sinners, they're usually taken by the hellborn. But still Charlie decides it might benefit the hotel if everyone took the test so they can better understand them.....Chaos ensues

Notes: Hazbin hotel be like: You’ve been waiting for years and now you have this super dark yet meaningful story about mythology, the complexity of human nature as well as other worldy beings, redemtion, abuse, abusive relationships, substance use, toxicity, redemtion, corrupt systems and overall the fight between good and evil and how it's more complex than we're lead to belive.

Me be like: Aw! Babies! 😍

⚠️ READ ME! ⚠️This work is an Age regression/Classification fic. So there will be things such as Diapers and their usage, pacifiers, cribs, bottles, exc.But there will also be cursing and talking about sex, abuse, drugs, alcohol and lots of adult things when characters are out of headspace, and it also mentions some trauma. (Any future trigger warnings will be added to chapter notes if needed. Be careful.)

❤️Age regression is not sexual, it’s a safe coping mechanism.If this ain't your thing. Just don't read it.💜

“Okay everyone! Today I have a bit of an experiment for you all.” Charlie announces. “You are all going to be taking the infamous Classification test!” 

“The what now?” Angel asks.

“This test will determine what kind of person you are! And it will help us better understand your needs to better help you. The types in question are: Littles, Caregivers, Babysitters, Pet regressors, Handlers, Guardians, and neutrals.” She explains. “Hellborns take this test when they turn fifteen to find out their best possible place in our society to live their best lives!” 

“Wait, so all hellborns take this test?” Angel asks.

“Yeah, is that new information for you?” Vaggie asks. “It's pretty common knowledge.”

“I have never heard of that!” Angel says.

“You know, you should go outside every now and then, maybe you'll learn something.” Vaggie says.

“Do you have any idea what happens when I go outside?” Angel asks her. “Not a lot of learning happening.” 

“Don't worry, I have all the definitions riiight here. I'll read them out for you.” Charlie says. She clears her throat and reads through the classifications: “First we have: Littles or regressors, these people will often regress to a younger state of mind to help them cope with day to day life. They're usually traumatized individuals who either had to grow up too fast or those who had a bad childhood, regressing allows them to heal their inner child. They also need to be properly taken care of by Caregivers.” 

Angel raises an eyebrow, but Charlie continues: 

“Caregivers are the ones assigned to take care of littles, these people usually have natural instincts

Much little Littles, Caregivers are thought to have a traumatic past but they cope by helping others.” Charlie explains. 

“Guardians or ‘protectors’ I think is pretty self explanatory. These people are very strong, fearless leaders who are very protective of their loved ones.” She reads, smiling at Vaggie at that part.  

“Pets or pet regressors are a lot like Littles, except instead of regressing to a child's mindset, they regress to an animal mindset.” 

“And Handlers are a lot like Caregivers except for pets. Usually Caregivers and Handlers go hand in hand, so it's rare for someone to get this classification.” Charlie explains.

“And what's the purpose of these tests? Like what happens to you afterwards?” Angel asks.

“Well, anyone who gets at least fifty percent little on the test will be assigned a caregiver, either a parent could adopt them, or a partner,” Charlie holds Vaggie's hand. “Or they'll be taken to an adoption center to meet their adoptive caregiver or assigned caregiver. A caregiver assigned by the people who run the program. Usually this is a last resort though.”

“Caregivers are very similar, having to have a little, and if they don't have one, they'll be assigned one.” Vaggie adds. “They usually can't get away without having one. Unless they're royal or have kids that is.” 

Angel's mouth hangs open. “...And this is just something you do? You assign people to other people and force them to live their life based solely on a random test they took when they were fifteen?!” Angel asks.

“Yup, pretty much.” Vaggie says. 

“And you're all just fine with this?!” Angel asks.

“It's a flawed system, I will admit. But it has helped a lot of people too.” Charlie says. 

“In what way?” Angel asks. 

“Well, Littles have someone to take care of them, and Caregivers have someone to take care of.” Charlie explains.

“That's stupid.” Angel says. “I am not taking that test.” 

“Oh, come on, Angel. We just want to help you.” Charlie says. “Everyone is going to be taking to, so you won't be alone.” 

“Who says I'm taking that test?” Husk asks as Vaggie tries to hand him one. 

“Everyone is taking it.” Charlie says again. “It'll be fun!”

“Wait a minute, if all the hellborn take this test, does that mean…you've taken the test?” Angel asks Charlie.

“Oh yeah, of course!” Charlie says.

“If you're going to be knowing our results, isn't it only fair that we know yours?” He asks.

“Okay. Well, I'm a classified caregiver and little.” She says, moving some hair back awkwardly when mentioning the little part. 

“You can be both?” Angel asks.

“Yup, 50/50. She says.

“Well, just because you're okay with it, doesn't mean I am.” Angel says. 

“What's wrong, Angel? Scared?” Husk asks.

“No.” Angel says. “I just-” Angel didn't know how to say it. “Fuck you!”

“Come on, Angel. Get on board.” Charlie encourages, handing him the test. 

Angel takes it and looks through it skeptically. 

Suddenly Charlie gets a phone call. She checks her phone but her eyes widen. “Oh.” She looks at everyone and presses the phone close to her chest. “Uhh… I'll be right back, you guys just answer these questions as honestly as you can.” Charlie instructs before walking out.

Vaggie looks at Charlie with concern and wordlessly follows her into the other room. 

~~~Charlie and Vaggie:~~~

Charlie got off the phone quickly, the phone conversation only lasted a few minutes, and even then she exclusively answered with small answers:  ‘mhm’ ‘sure’ ‘uh..okay.’ and finally ‘Yeah, bye.’

“Everything okay, Charlie?” Vaggie asks. 

“Everything is super!” She says, smiling brightly and adding extra enthusiasm to her voice to make sure Vaggie wasn't suspicious. 

“Oh good. So, who was on the phone?” Vaggie asks.

“Just- my dad. Don't worry about it. It's nothing.” Charlie says. 

Charlie was about to leave, but Vaggie grabbed her hand. “Hey, you know you can tell me anything….right?” 

“Of course I know that, silly.” Charlie laughs. “Everything is fine, I promise.” She says. 

“Okay…I trust you.” Vaggie shrugs, keeping a smile on her face. 

What else could she do? If something is wrong but Charlie doesn't want to talk about it, it would be wrong to pressure her. 

Charlie grabs Vaggie’s hand and smiles kindly. “Let's go back to the others. Also, you need to take the test too. I wanna see your results.” 

Vaggie rolls her eyes. “As if you don’t know what I am already? You're the one taking care of me all the time.”

“I'm just curious.” Charlie says. “And of course I will always take care of you, we take care of each other. It's kind of our job.” She chuckles. 

Vaggie smirks. “Well, yeah. But, you're not as young as I am.” She says. 

“Or as absolutely adorable!” Charlie baby talks.

“No way, you're way cuter, little or not.” 

“You keep thinking that.” Charlie says, booping her beloved girlfriend's nose. “But we both know you're the cutest little ever.” ~

~~~Husk~~~

“Come on, Angel. Get on board.” Angel mocks once Charlie left the room.

“That bitch is hiding something.” Husk says. “I can tell.” 

“Who cares? I have work to do.” Angel says, getting up and leaving the test behind. 

“It's the weekend.” Husk says. 

“Yeah, but Val has a party tonight and he wants me to help…entertain the guests. If you know what I mean.” He smirks. 

Husk rolls his eyes as Angel smiles at himself. He always looks so proud to get under his skin or make him feel uncomfortable. 

“You sure you don't want to take this with you?” Husk asks. “The princess won't be too happy when she finds out you're walking out on yet another activity.” Husk smirks in an attempt to tease him back. “...You might get in trouble.”

Angel gasps. “Oh please, I'm so scared.” He says sarcastically. “She won't do anything. The worst thing she could do is tell me she's very disappointed in me or some shit.” He scoffs, continuing to walk away. 

“Angel?” Husk asks him.

“What?” Angel asks. 

“Just…be careful. Okay?” He asks.

Angel frowns for a moment, then smiles. “Yeah…I will. Thanks.”

Alastor looks over at the cat, and smiles at Husk wordlessly. 

“Mind your own fucking business!” Husk snaps at him. 

Alastor laughs. “Well, if you didn't make everything so obvious, perhaps I would.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Husk says. 

Alastor chuckles. “Of course you don't.”

Husk looks away from Al, turning his attention on anyone else-

It's what he always does… he observes. 

Sir Pentious and Niffty were already working on their tests, Niffty rather fast and violent and Pentious very slow and hesitant.

“This test is impossible!” Sir Pentious complains. “How can they expect me to answer these hard questions? What am I supposed to put for gender?”

Husk looks at the test, the questions varies from mildly personal, complicated, to way too personal: “How do you deal with your failure?” He reads out loud. Wondering how the fuck that could tell them their place in…

As Charlie put it: ‘Society,’

“I put down: kill tiny things and drink their blood.” Niffty says. 

“Blow stuff up!” Sir Pentious says. “Or perhaps I'd try try again? Oo! Both!” 

“You are all such a pleasure to have around.” Alastor says. Very quickly finishing his test with no issues. 

Husk was honestly surprised he was going along with this. He probably found the idea hilarious. 

Husk sighs, normally he wouldn't engage with something like this either, but he knew Charlie wouldn't stop bothering him if he didn't. It was a lot easier to just do it and then get the rest of his day over with. 

~~~Charlie:~~~

Charlie enthusiastically returns to the main room. “So, how's everyone doing?” She asks. “Where's Angel?” She asks before anyone could answer her first question.

“He left.” Husk says. 

“Oh.” Charlie says. “That's…fine. He can just take it when he gets back!” She says.

Vaggie sighs. “When is he finally going to take anything we do seriously?”

“I don't think Angel knows what serious is.” Husk says. 

They continue their tests, and Vaggie starts hers.

~~~~A few minutes later:~~~

“Finished!” Niffty says, handing her test back to Charlie. 

“Perfect, thank you Niffty.” Charlie says. 

“This test is impossible!” Pentious says. “How am I supposed to know all these personal questions?”

“Don't over think it.” Charlie says. “Just write the first thing that comes to mind.” 

Husk leaves his test on the table, and Alastor leaves his on the floor, then both of them go back to their business. 

Vaggie picked them up so as not to lose them. 

~~~Charlie and Vaggie, Later:~~~

All Charlie had to do was scan the tests on their computer and the test results would print themselves. They had gotten access to the program the test centers use. Perks to being the princess of hell. 

Her and Vaggie both awaited the answers for everyone. 

“This will be so great! Getting to know everyone better so we can help them." Charlie says. "I can't wait to find out what the results are!"

“Just- be careful. Okay? I don't want you to blow this out of proportion.” Vaggie says. 

“Psh, Vaggie! When have I ever done that?” 

“When you found out I was a little, you bought me the whole little store!” Vaggie says. 

“I gave it back after you told me to.” Charlie says. “I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed.” 

“I know.” Vaggie says. “I just want to make sure you don't get yourself hurt...or scare anyone away. You know?"

“Ooo! Your results are in!” Charlie squeals, grabbing the paper from the printer. 

Vaggie rolls her eyes, but she's still smiling. She can't help it, Charlie is too cute. “What does it say?” 

“Fifty percent little, fifty percent guardian!” Charlie says. “As I expected.” She says, in some sort of accent to make her sound smarter. 

“Sounds right.” She says. 

The next results get printed. “Husker!” Charlie  sings.

Vaggie grabs the paper and reads it. “Seventy-five guardian, twenty five Neutral.” 

“Niffty: Fifty percent Handler and…” Charlie tilts her head. “And unclassifyable nonsense.” She reads. 

Vaggie nods. “Also sounds right.” 

“Ooo, Sir Pentious is sixty percent little and fourty percent neutral.” Charlie says. “Little snake!” Charlie squeals. 

“Okay, calm down there.” Vaggie laughs, taking the paper from Charlie. “Just grab the last one so we can get started planning the actual activities.” 

Charlie grabs the final test result. “Uhhh.” 

“What does it say?” Vaggie asks taking the paper from her. 

Charlie couldn't even answer, she just stayed quietly shocked as Vaggy looked over the results. 

Vaggie's eyes widen. “There's no. Fucking. Way.”

Alastor: 

100% Little. 

Taglist: @todayimfour

#helluva boss age regression #Itty bitty sinners #age regression fanfic #hazbin hotel agere #Little!Alastor #Niffty #charlie magne #Little!Charlie magne #Little!Charlie #Little!SirPentious #Hazbin hotel age regression #Ittybittysinners #Hazbin hotel fanfic #Little!Vaggie #Vaggie

[drdemonprince]

if you ever have the time and space to answer this i'd be very thankful

how can i take any let downs by friends less personal and continue giving people chances/inviting them in and being vulnerable without hurting myself/gettung hurt in the process? i'm guessing the answer is to find a balance, but are there ways to go about it easier? no matter how much i try to communicate and and manage expectations... i appreciate my friends greatly, but still i often feel let down when they cant come to things that are important to me though i understand that things can happen and theres usually reasons for not being able to make something and i am not their priority number one in a system that exhausts all of us- it just keeps happening and i don't want to grow bitter and alone but cherish the people in my life and trust they are trying their best

I think you can start by practicing being more flaky and unreliable and more reliant up on your friends' grace as well! When we feel resentful, it is often a sign that we are doing far too much, and not having our needs cared for. I used to be one of the most reliable mother fuckers around -- it was my senior superlative, actually, Most Reliable! ha! -- and I resented just about everyone for being less put together, less likely to follow through, less prone to doing what they said and saying what they'd do than me. I was a bitter little Type A overachieving cunt who considered myself superior to everyone (in part because my hyper literal Autistic ass believed that if you said you were going to do something, that meant you absolutely Had to Do It and Why Would Anybody Lie about a thing like that?)

Today I am a fuckin MESS and I am a much better person for it. I amble up just barely on time, I cancel plans, I forget things, I tell someone I can't make it even if in the most literal sense I could but I don't feel like it -- and many of my friends are tired, spent, fuzzy brained exhausted messes too! And it's fine! I have some friends that I regularly rely upon to cancel our plans because it frees up a little extra room in my schedule that I always wind up needing. I'm not mad or disappointed in them for bailing, my ass is relieved because I definitely have some shit to get to myself and probably four other people that I'm kinda letting down at the moment. It's not that any of us lack concern for one another, that's just what being a busy adult is in this day and age. We have work and creative pursuits and lots of friends and fucking and exercise and tile to regrout. Shit happens. It's not a big deal if I end up needing to see the movie solo or if we need to reschedule our breakfast date. Shit happens. I have too many actual problems to make a problem out of someone having a hangover and not being able to show up to my birthday or whatever. I missed their birthday last year, but I'll make it there this year, and maybe next time they'll make mine, too. The grace of accepting chaos washes it all away. My friends are my fellow comrades in the fuckin trenches and we each get to make one another's tours a little less miserable by understanding shit's crazy and fucked and that none of it is personal and that at the end, we still love eachother and are doing our best.

With time, may you find that kind of serenity and that ability to just keep on moving in life rather than fixating on the little slights and unpredictable things that will happen whether we fight them or not. Don't read too much into anyone's cancellation of plans or lateness or flakiness. Put your mind toward more interesting problems in your life, ones that some thinking can help solve. Easier said than done, but you'll get there. If my bitter anal retentive ass could become so sloppy and lovingly blase so can you!

[immajustvibehere]

Spark (6/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 6 summary: While still recovering from your wound, you get wind of a trap being layed out for Arthur. You might be the only one who can protect him from something bad happening...

link to my masterlist

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5

Warning: You have to live with my headcanon that Micah had something to do with Arthur getting kidnapped by the O'Driscolls.

3800 words, 18 minutes reading time

Your wound was healing agonisingly slow. Or at least, it seemed like that to you. Miss Grimshaw had sternly forbidden you to leave your bedroll for the first two days. Afterwards, she'd remain on high alert and snatch everything out of your hands that was even remotely heavy.

Grimshaw also urged you to take care of your wound, so it wouldn't get infected. She offered to have a look at it. Charles and Hosea also offered their expertise, showing that they meant well. Yet, you always refused. Though the sight wasn't a pretty one, you insisted on taking care of it yourself. Had Arthur offered...you might haven't refused. But only because he was the one who stitched you up in the first place. You knew he was capable and secretly, you longed for his gentle hands, but you’d never openly admit that.

The following week passed with a certain routine. You'd wake up early, often forced awake by the pain in your abdomen, and share a cigarette with Arthur. You never said much in the morning. The only thing he usually mentioned in a gruff and raspy morning voice what he'd do today and how the previous mission had gone. Then you'd do the chores that Grimshaw allowed you to do: cleaning weapons, washing the dishes and chopping vegetables. This aside, the days were marked by sitting by the fire and listening to whoever's story was being told at the moment.

Tonight, as it grew late and camp gradually emptied, with every person retiring to their designated bedroll one by one. Micah was the only one left. And while you had enough alcohol in your system to numb the occasional pain in your abdomen, Micah had decided to get absolute shit faced. If you understood correctly, it had something to do with losing some decent amount of money while gambling earlier. For the past half hour, your half-brother had been mumbling a bunch of nonsensical words, you had stopped bothering to listen. But suddenly, you perked up your ears.

"Ohh, I gotta tell you something", Micah rambled on, but he put such peculiar stress on the words, it made your stomach turn. "You know some people here...", he went on.

Micah paused and grumbled, opening his sixth bottle of beer. Honestly, not too much of an astonishing number, hadn't he already arrived drunk at camp a couple of hours earlier.

"Some people here ain't no good for the gang...just gonna make a lot of trouble down the line", he slurred.

Though your thoughts on "those people" had changed significantly in the last weeks, you knew better than to let Micah know that. So you answered with an air of nonchalance and a hint of mockery: "The women, you mean?"

"No, no", Micah chuckled darkly.

"The hophead of a priest?", you swallowed after delivering these words. Swanson was getting on your nerves daily, but he had proven to be a good listener.

"You ain't thinkin' big enough!", Micah gestured some huge motion with his hands, "Morgan's gone soft recently...Ain't no use for that. I'll just send him up the ridge and maybe they'll take care of it", he hiccupped. Your eyes searched the camp, you weren't sure why, but maybe you wanted to see if Arthur was still awake. At this very moment, you couldn't make any sense of Micah's words and when you looked at him again, his body was slumped over with soft snores escaping his open mouth.

The next day, lunch had barely passed when you heard the commotion, whose cause was a livid discussion between Dutch, Hosea, Pearson, Arthur and Micah. Something about Colm O'Driscoll and a parley. You hadn’t been properly introduced to the feud Dutch had with Colm, but you have had enough run-ins with his boys. After all, when you stole the bank stage with Micah and Arthur, they had almost managed to surprise you.

While you watched from a distance, the discussion seemed to have found an end. Dutch and Micah strolled off to their horses, followed by Arthur, who reluctantly trailed behind them. He wasn’t so happy about the conclusion of the conversation.

"Fuck", you mumbled. Is this what Micah had been talking about? You waited until the group had left, staring at the dust their horses had stirred up. You had to follow. This uneasy feeling in your stomach that Arthur was in danger wouldn't leave.

For a moment you took a deep breath and thought: "The heck? Why should I care?" Only to blink and admit to yourself, you cared a fucking lot. There was no way denying that. As Arthur stitched you up, his warm hands all over your body, that did something to you. You never thought anyone would ever treat you this kindly. And even though the circumstances had been...peculiar...you didn't care. If there was even the slightest chance....of chasing this feeling could pay off...

You strode towards your horse, aware that neither you, nor your horse, were carried any weapons. Grimshaw still had a stern look at you and when you tried to carry your guns yesterday, it was frowned upon with some demeaning remarks. You were still grounded to camp chores and resting your wound, though you were pretty sure it had beautifully healed the last couple of days. It didn't matter now. You sneaked to your horse and seized the opportunity to ride off before anyone could tell you not to.  

-

Arthur was lying in the grass, the scope of his gun pressed to his eye. He didn't exactly know what the hell he was doing here. It hadn't sound like a good idea before, and it didn't feel right even now, though he had a good view of the surroundings and saw that the coast was clear. A sigh escaped Arthur’s lips when he suddenly heard grass behind him rustling. He was in the motion of turning around when the sound of a muffled groan came almost simultaneous to something warm splashing onto his exposed arm.

When Arthur looked up, he saw you slitting the throat of an O'Driscoll that had sneaked up right behind him. There was still some life in him when you whirled him around to bury your knife in his stomach. Once, twice,...

"God damn fucker!", you hissed, your knife about to stab him for a third time, when Arthur tackled you from behind and pulled you on the ground.

"Jesus, woman! What the hell are you doing here?", Arthur hissed.

"Saving your ass, you ungrateful bastard!", you yelled back. The adrenaline was rushing through your body and you feared your heart would jump out of your chest any second now. Your horse was at some distance, so nobody would hear you ride up and you had sprinted the last yards.

Arthur had to give you credit for staying almost clean after pretty much gutting the fellow, most of the blood had landed on him, anyways. When you opened your mouth again and sat up, angrily wrangling yourself out of Arthur's grip, you spoke more quietly, and yet not quietly enough for a mission where the job was to stay hidden: "This fucker was about to knock you out, Arthur! If I hadn't been-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Arthur's hand was slapped onto your mouth and he grabbed your collar, to pull you into a lower position again.

"Shhh! I hear you. Stay low, damnit", Arthur's eyes bore holes into you as he tried to get his point across. For some moments, neither of you said anything. Your heavy breathing, which you had trouble calming down, was the loudest noise. With his big hand pressed on your mouth, you feared you might suffocate if you didn't calm down. This man's blue eyes that looked you up and down did nothing to relax the situation, quite the opposite actually. The thought alone that they would be closed by now if you hadn't stepped in made you sob, muffled by Arthur's hand that was still covering your mouth.

It wasn't only that. Your suspicion had turned out to be true. Micah knew. He fucking knew. This whole thing was designed to get rid of Arthur, and aside from Micah himself, only you were in on that. Arthur too, was wrecking his brain right now. He quickly checked on Dutch and Colm before he lifted his hand off your mouth only to put his index finger onto his lips, indicating you to be quiet.

"We gotta get out of here. They know you're up here", you whispered. Your voice was shaky, which you found deeply embarrassing. But you were upset.

"M'kay darlin'. Come on", Arthur announced, gripping his rifle and crawling away from the edge before he stood up to go to his horse. You followed, flabbergasted. Darling? Where the fuck did that come from? He hadn't even given you time to react. You just hurried after him, catching up when he was mounting his horse.

"We gotta lay low for a while. I'm not supposed to be here and I dare say you aren't expected back either", you said as you pulled yourself onto your horse.

"I gotta tell Dutch that this was a set-up. I knew it was a bad idea to begin with", Arthur answered.

"No. Please", you almost whined. Arthur looked at you with knitted eyebrows. He did not understand why telling Dutch was bad idea, but he hadn't expected that tone from you either, so he decided to give in.

"Okay. I know a nice spot..."

You rode off, leaving the Heartlands behind. The next best creek you passed, you used to get some blood off of you. Despite stabbing the O'Driscoll from behind, you still had managed to get your arms dirty. Arthur watched you in silence. The last couple of questions he had asked had fallen on deaf ears, so he had given up poking for answers right now.

Later, you entered a wooded area. The sky had taken a mesmerizing shade of purple and the presence of some darker clouds in the South suggested that the drizzle that had just started was about to transform into a solid rain shower. It already smelled like damp earth. Guiding your horses with ease, you navigated through the light-filled gaps between the trees. They did a decent job of shielding you from the rain, except for the occasional drop that would land on your arm.

"I camped here a while ago", Arthur explained as he jumped off his horse when you reached a nice place, "'s a good spot."

"Yeah. I'll get a fire started", you said briefly, hitching your horse and walking off to quickly grab some dry twigs. Arthur was left behind at the spot he had picked and kept wondering at your behaviour. He noticed that you didn't have anything on your horse, no spare clothes, or a tent...So, instead of putting up his tent the normal way, he used every inch of the material, not fixing the corners in the dirt, but spanning it in between some trees.

You returned with wood and build a fire. Nothing was said until Arthur had warmed some beans and passed you the can before he had tried some. His eyes were begging for some explanations, but you sighed: "Please. Don't ask."

"I'm not", Arthur put his hands up in defence and though he remained silent, you felt his gaze on you. Trying your very best to ignore it, you gulped down the beans.

"Y/N...", Arthur started.

"Mh?", you replied, mouth full, starring into the flames. The fire had become strong enough to withstand the occasional raindrop, but the air around you had cooled significantly.

"Is your wound okay?", Arthur asked, "You have some blood on your shirt..."

You checked the brownish stain on your shirt, it was indeed at the same height as your wound should be. The wound which should have healed by now.

"Did ya take the stitches out already?", Arthur inquired when he saw your sceptical look.

"Planned on doing it today, but some things came up", you shot back.

"Want me to have a look at it?", Arthur now offered, already changing his sitting position to better accommodate you.

When Arthur caught the slight questioning gleam in your eyes, he smiled softly. You weren't someone to trust easily – he knew, because he's like that too. Yet, despite the wall you both harboured, Arthur couldn’t help but worry. He wasn't sure if you felt the same, but the events of the afternoon had surely left an impression on him. The fact that you had rushed to his side and stabbed a man a few seconds before his light would have gone out...You had been so calm the last two weeks, but today you were visibly shaken. Arthur wasn't sure if there was some deeper meaning behind this or if he let hope dictate his thoughts.

"I ain't gonna hurt you", Arthur said gently, when you didn't answer.

"I know", you shrugged, setting down the can of beans, "I just think that your reasons for getting me to take of my clothes are somewhat unimaginative." You gave a cocky smile when Arthur released a shaky breath. He mumbled a 'You're insane woman’ as you slipped one arm through your sleeve and therefor exposed your bare side.

In a moment, Arthur's hand was on you again. You flinched a bit as his thumb grazed the flesh near the wound.

"Looks good. Just a slight tear, should be all healed up again by tomorrow", Arthur assessed.

"Good", you replied briefly, getting into your shirt again quickly enough to not let Arthur notice the gooseflesh that had formed at his touch. He still saw the blush on your cheeks though.

In a tender moment, your eyes locked in a silent connection, and in that instant, you discovered that his hand hadn't budged. It remained steadfast, gently resting beneath the fabric of your shirt. It was as if an unspoken agreement held you both captive, unwilling to release the intensity of your gaze, except for Arthur's occasional stolen glances towards your lips.

The feeling of wanting nothing more than to protect you overwhelmed Arthur. He wanted to claim you as his, but not in a selfish, unreflective manner. More as a testament that he still could feel so strongly for someone. Arthur wanted to ensure that love was still possible for him. So he leaned in and in a moment, his lips met yours. The touch was so soft and loving that neither Arthur nor you would have expected that your body jerked away. The same moment, your hand met Arthur's cheek, slapping him. It wasn't meant to hurt, it was more your natural answer to this sudden invasion.

"What the hell?", you mouthed breathlessly.

Arthur's head remained frozen in the position your slap had left it in. His lips had curled into a sad smile, his eyes now avoiding yours. The slap had inflicted a sting, but it was a peculiar sensation, not one he was used to from other brawls and beatings.

"Sorry", Arthur mumbled in a soft whisper. The sad smile didn't leave his face, as if something else would surface if he dared to change his expression. "Might have gotten somethings wrong...", he added. Still looking down, he adjusted his hat, so it threw a darker shadow over his eyes.

You found yourself stumbling over your words, caught between the urge to apologize and swear at him at the same time. But your incapability to express your emotions frustrated you deeply. You managed a loud enough "excuse me" for him to hear before you stood up and walked off. Not too far, just a few feet into the shelter of forest where you thought the light of the fire couldn't reach. Arthur watched you walk off. He figured you thought yourself shielded from his gaze, but he saw as you leaned against a tree, lightly bumping your head into the wet bark.

Arthur couldn't bear watching you for long, so he took his journal out and quickly started to write. It was a momentary update of his state of mind and purposefully, he left some space before he started to sketch the outlines of the dark forest and the campfire in front of him, knowing that you would dictate how this evening turned out for both of you.

However, it wasn't long until he heard your boots rustling through the twigs and leaves. Arthur looked up and his eyes followed you, until you were seated right next to him. The closeness surprised him, but he took it as a promising sign. It was a flicker of hope that soothed the anxiety that he had felt at the thought of having offended you seriously. You had your words prepared, but Arthur was faster: "'M sorry, y/n. I should've asked."

Your eyebrows knit together in a sceptical look. You thought about snorting and and mocking him by saying 'Micah's right when he told me you had gone soft' but deep down you knew that this was just further proof that Arthur was more than what meets the eye.

After you had cleared your throat, you said: "It's okay. I didn't mean to slap you, I was just...surprised."

"Remind me to never surprise you again", Arthur joked, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. With light-hearted spirit, he continued the drawing in his journal. You caught a glimpse, but quickly averted your gaze and instead stared into the fire. You sat right next to Arthur, your arms occasionally brushed against each other, yet he didn't bother closing his journal - seemingly unaffected by your presence.

You couldn't help yourself. It was too impressive to see the drawing come together. When he sketched the shadows of the trees, you could make out the raindrops, though he hadn't specifically drawn them. Your eyes became fixated on the tip of his pencil, captivated by its movements, unwilling to tear your gaze away. But it didn't feel right, not after the last time.

Arthur noticed you were restless, so he said in an affirming voice: "I don't mind you watching, ya know?"

"All of a sudden?"

Arthur shrugged and continued to draw: "Not like you learned to read the last couple days, did ya?"

"Maybe I did. Didn't have much to do recently", you teased.

"Sure", Arthur replied, knowing you were bluffing, "So? Read it out then!"

You helplessly stared at the letters he had written, with not one clue in the world what was spelled out there. You tried to come up with something that could have been written there, but you weren't quick enough. Arthur interrupted your thinking process: "Knew it."

You sighed in defeat but lightened up when Arthur chuckled at your frustrated response. Both of you listened to the crackle of the fire. In a silent agreement, every passing moment saw you inching closer, gradually, you leaned against him. Astonishingly, Arthur showed no signs of discomfort, allowing the newfound proximity to exist, as if it were the most natural and cherished space between you.

"I like your drawings, you know", you whispered.

"They ain't special", Arthur replied. He was done with his little painting of the scenery and skipped back two pages to reveal a sketch of a squirrel.

"How can you even draw that thing with those little fuckers moving around all the time? Was it dead when you drew it?", you asked in awe at the level of detail.

"No", Arthur replied, "I jus' remember how it looks like."

Amidst the crackling of the fire, you uttered words that were almost indistinguishable, your voice muffled by your mouth pressed against Arthur's arm. Perceiving your intent, he instinctively adjusted his arm, skilfully manoeuvring it around you. Both of you were now enveloped in a half-embrace and you let it happen willingly. This was exactly what you had been craving the last couple of days. It was unusual, and yet so welcoming and soothing.

You sat like that for a while before Arthur stated his intent of laying down. You replied you'd still sit and tend the fire for a while.

Arthur lied down on his bedroll, staring at the canvas that obstructed his vision of the night sky...which probably was cloudy anyways. Aside from the usual forest noises, it was silent. About fifteen minutes had passed, but Arthur was still far from falling asleep.

"It just has never worked out for me...every time I tried the whole trusting thing...it ended badly", you explained. Your voice ended the silence and caught Arthur's attention. He sat up again.

"'m sorry to hear that", Arthur answered, "But yer still young. There are plenty people out there. I'm sure you'll find someone. If ya weren't so bad behaved-"

"Hey!", you turned towards him, to see a sarcastic smile back at you. You wondered why he’d just said that, when he kissed you earlier. When he clearly wanted you.

Arthur continued in a teasing manner: "I thought you were a nasty companion at first too, but you’re alright if ya calm down a bit and let yer guard down."

"Could say the same about you", you drew circles in the dirt.

After a while, in which you felt Arthurs eyes on you, he said: "You should try 'n rest. There's nobody around."

"Maybe a bear passes by and attacks us."

"Sure", Arthur readjusted his bedroll, "You ain't much to chew on, so ya gonna have plenty of time for running as long as it's busy with me."

Arthur had adjusted his bedroll vertically, so you could at least put your upper body on something softer.

"I bet ya taste like shit. It won't bother with you for long", you grinned at the teasing, surprised to see that Arthur had arranged a sleeping setup that would benefit you both.

"No doubt", Arthur chuckled.

You looked at the bedroll.

"If ya don't mind sharing with an old man that tastes like shit, it might be more comfortable for you like that", Arthur offered and lied down, his head now resting on one part of the soft material, while still leaving enough space between you. You joined him in the grass, turning your back towards him and fixating on random trees in the darkness. It was difficult to get those words out, but you had promised yourself to at least try expressing some of your emotions.

“I…I don’t really care if there’s plenty people out there. I think, I already found the one I’d like to trust...” You might have rushed the delivery of those words, but Arthur had understood them very well. There was a boyish smirk on his lips when he answered.

“I don’t mean to offend, miss, but you picked a real weird fella.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Next chapter HERE

@xclovers @photo1030 @cowboydisaster @stilinskiwitch @globetrotter28 @unbotheredbeeeee @eyelovie @ashjbu @lovrgirlsstuff @how-the-heck-would-i-know @j4llyf7sh @urfavjanalein

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[samoankpoper21]

With Love, Oikawa

A/N Still reeling from the loss of my cousin '^^ It's not an easy experience to lose someone, it never will be. Surround yourselves with your loved ones, tell them you love them daily because you never know when they'll pass. I'm glad I was able to tell my cousin that I loved him before he passed so please don't mind this post '^^ I just needed to get this out of my system ^^ hope that makes sense and as usual hope y'all enjoy this drabble. T/W: Small mention of unaliving oneself

Word count: 1880

It was a freak accident. At least that's how the doctor's described it.

Morning of you woke up and your inner being was off, something felt misaligned. You peered over to your smirking husband as he reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. "Morning love."

"Morning." you whispered. Years of dating and 2 years of marriage Oikawa could sense when something was bothering you. His eyebrows scrunched together studying your face. "What's wrong?" Taking a shaky breath you answered, "Honestly I don't know. I woke up feeling...weird."

"Anything I can do to alleviate that weirdness?" he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively pulling you closer to him. You giggle giving him an eskimo kiss. "I'm sure it's nothing babe." You both lay there staring at each other, the love for one another apparent in your eyes. He sighs contently kissing your forehead. "What did I do to deserve you?" you hum in response. "Come on babe, gotta get ready for work." He groaned, interlocking your legs together. "Gimme 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes."

"Babe I would love to but I have an important meeting today." He pouted hugging you impossibly tighter. You couldn't resist his pouty face so you chuckled, hugging him back promising, "5 minutes top Toru."

"Yes!"

15 minutes had passed and Oikawa was walking you to the door watching as you slipped your flats on. "What do you feel like eating for dinner babe?"

"You know I'm fine with-you know what, scratch that. Maybe bone broth soup? It's starting to get cold."

"Ok love, I'll get it from that shop in town."

"You're a god send."

"You're just now realizing." You pinched his arm pulling him close. Leaning down to your height, cupping your face, he says, "I love you you know that? Not more than myself but you're alright." You giggled lightly smacking his arm. "I guess you're alright too." He pecked you once, twice, the third time his arms snaking around your plush waist pulling you close, your hands instantly weaving in his light brown locks, his cologne and scent filling your nostrils. "Okay, okay I have to go. Seriously Toru." Trying to pry his arms away from you he pouted dramatically. "What am I gonna do without you for 8 whole hours?"

"Babe you're more than enough entertainment for yourself. Chill."

"You're right. I am pretty awesome." Chuckling, shaking your head, you gave him a quick peck again turning around to wave at him. "I love you."

"Love you more."

The meetings seemed to drag forever. You just wanted to rush home into your husband's arms as he held you. Just one more hour. This was the mantra that was getting you through this work week. It finally hit 5PM and you rushed to the kiosk swiping your card. "Bye everyone! Have a good weekend! Good work today!" you rushed out bowing to your superiors before rushing to your car pushing on the accelerator. Pulling into the driveway you noticed Toru's car not there. Probably went to get dinner. Stepping out you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet your neighborhood was. Usually there would be some type of noise but everything was...still. You tried shaking off the anxious, dreadful feeling that stayed with you since the morning but it just wouldn't dissipate. Slipping off your shoes at the entrance you changed into your house slippers when the shrill notes of your ringtone broke the silence. Frowning at the unrecognized number you debated on whether you should ignore the call but something in you urged, nagged, you to pick up. "Hello?"

"Hello is this Mrs. Oikawa?"

"This is she."

"My name is Ito Asahi. I'm calling from Midori hospital in regards to your husband." With a quivering voice and shaky hands you ask, "Is...is he ok?"

"Your husband was involved in an accident."

"I don't-I don't understand." the dispatch cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the news he was about to deliver. "Mrs. Oikawa, your husband was hit head on by a drunk driver and was pronounced dead-" the phone dropped, everything sounding muffled, your breathing ragged. You clutched at your chest, tears falling down your eyes, trying to focus on what to do next. Why was it so got damn hard to breathe? "Mrs. Oikawa? Mrs. Oikawa? Mrs. Oikawa?!" Ito's voice slowly brought you back, your hearing now accompanied by a ringing in your ear. "He...he's dead?"

"I'm sorry." you broke down sobbing clutching at your chest. Fumbling for your phone you dialed Hajime. "Hey Y/N-chan."

"Ha-Hajime," your voice broke.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Are you ok? Is everything ok?"

"T-T-Toru,"

"What about him? Did he hurt you?" shaking your head you continued. "T-T-Toru -hic- i-is -hic gone. -hic- He's gone Hajime!" The sound of shoes fumbling and keys being thrown into a pocket could be heard when Hajime blurts out, "Stay there I'm coming to get you."

Hajime found you sitting on the floor in the dark staring numbly ahead. Gently he helped you up, put on your shoes and coat, and asked where Oikawa was. Surprisingly you were able to utter, "Midori Hospital." The drive there was silent, Hajime having already called your mother-in-law. You watched as the green trees and pink hued sky zoomed by, your ears still ringing. The emergency room doors slid open, the bustling of the the patients being wheeled past and nurses zooming by brought you back to the present. You could hear monitors beeping, the intercom paging a doctor to the maternity ward, nurses taking note of vitals from patients sitting out in the lobby. Hajime lead you to the reception area stating, "Hello. We're looking for an Oikawa Toru." the nurse quickly clacked away at her keyboard when she affirms, "Go through the double doors on your left hand side, his room is 1-B which will be on your right. We were waiting for next of kin before wheeling him away."

"Thank you."

You were numb. Everything felt off. It was as if your body was merely a shell and you were just a third party watching, observing as you and Hajime made your way to his room. With shaky hands, Hajime slowly peeled the green curtains back only to find Oikawa's lifeless form covered by a white and green plaid blanket. "Oi," Hajime's voice broke. "Oi trashy-kun wake up. Wake up! Oikawa Toru wake up!" the sobs began racking through Hajime's body, you began rubbing his back. Shortly after your mother-in-law appeared beside you, her shrill wailing piercing the air, your tears silently falling.

The funeral procession went by smoothly and quickly, you being on autopilot. Former and present teammates came to wish their condolences. You instantly recognized the short, orange haired wing spiker and Oikawa's junior setter looking down cast for the first time. "Thank you for being here." you mutter. Numbly you watched as the casket lowered into the ground, the thud of the casket deafening. Iwaizumi escorted you home. "Are you sure you'll be ok Y/N-chan?"

"I'll be fine thank you Hajime."

"Are you sure? If you need anything-"

"I just...I just need time alone." Worried he gave you one last glance before engulfing you in a hug. "Call me? For anything."

"I will." The door silently clicked close as you dragged your feet towards your shared bedroom. Plopping down on the bed you clutched and inhaled Oikawa's San Juan jersey. You got a whiff of his scent and cologne, the dam you tried to hold in your chest finally bursting. Your sobs came out in waves racking your whole body folding the jersey within the confines of your pudgy body, your chest.

4 months later

Since Oikawa's passing you have been on leave for bereavement; you weren't ready to face work, reality really. Hajime and your mother-in-law made it a habit to check in on you; concerned when you brought it to their attention that you would be taking a trip to Kamakura. You reassured them that you would be okay and that you had no intention of ending your life. Walking the shores of Kamakura you peered out towards the ocean with Oikawa's jersey in your beach bag. Laying your towel down in a spot near the shade, you took out your notebook, his jersey and began journaling.

Hi babe, it's me again. It's been 4 months since you've been gone and I can't say that it's getting easier. Hajime and mom have been checking up on me regularly, making sure that I put a little something in my stomach, especially on the days that I don't feel like it. Remember babe when you promised me that we would go to the beach? You kept telling me about how beautiful the beaches in San Juan were and how they don't compare to your beauty so I'm taking a solo trip to Kamakura. I figured this beach is probably on par as San Juan and your essence ha ha ha. How are you? I miss you. I'm taking it minute by minute, the whole bullshit about taking it day by day is hard. As each day comes to a close it gets hard to sleep because I'm always expecting you to come through the door yelling, 'Baaaaaaabeeee I'm hooooooomeeeee.' Each day has its struggles. Some days I'm okay, other days I find myself sobbing nonstop, others I sit there numbly staring at the wall. Pathetic huh? I just know you're probably giving me shit about not doing things extravagantly ha ha ha When is this gonna end? This empty feeling I mean. Since you left there's a gaping hole in my heart that will be tough to fill. Tough but not impossible. You wouldn't be you if you didn't leave me with a little surprise. I found out earlier this week that I'm pregnant. We're having a boy baby! Can you believe it?! When the doctor told me I had tears of joy, sadness, and just remember this feeling of being scared. How am I gonna do this without you? :(( I'm thinking of naming our son either Touki for winter pleasure since that's when he's due or Towa for eternal peace; I'm leaning towards Towa kekeke Oikawa Touki? Oikawa Towa? Has a funny ring to it ^^ What do you think? I've already told mom and Hajime that I have news for them once I get back home late tonight. I want them to be the first to know. I miss you babe. I love you. I will tell our son all about how flamboyant, egotistical, loving, and romantic his dad was and how amazing of a setter you were. Are you playing up there? Wherever you are. Every time I see a clear, starry night it takes me back to when you asked me to marry you^^ Sorry. I know I'm going all over the place but I just really, really, really wanted to let you know that I love you. so so very much. And I miss you more than words can describe. Talk to you later. Sending kisses to the sky. Wait for me my love. I have a lot of work to do here before I can join you^^ love love love you. With love, Y/N.

#haikyuu #haikyuu! #haikyu #haikyu! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu x plus size reader #hq #hq boys #haikyuu boys #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu anime #haikyuu manga #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq x chubby reader #hq x plus size reader #oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fluff #oikawa angst #oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa tooru

[fountainpenguin]

"I simply must go-" ("Baby, it's cold outside...") "The answer is 'No-'" ("But baby, it's cold outside...") (x)

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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 22 - “Fizzle (Bdubs, Scar, Mumbo)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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Bdubs ruins the soul delivery route for everybody. Scar tolerates NPC_Grian's snark as best he can. Mumbo eats pizza and makes a new… friend?

Also, Scar follows up with Grian on the rumor that he's secretly trapped in his red life even in the Between dimension, one slip-up from a perma-death... That talk goes great!

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Bdubs - Phantom

Status: Morose

Captain of New Star Station’s Phantom Hybrid Flock

💙  🧡  💚

There are no horses in New Star Station. Not even one. Horse hybrids, sure, though they're not as common as you think. People have been saying for years that horses might be extinct in Between by now, but he's still got hope. You're sharing minds with Bdubs right now, just so we're on the same page. He's the guy with hope.

It's fine! There's no time in his schedule for horse caretaking anyway. Being captain is practically a full-time job. Seriously.

Phantoms don't need to go offline (as long as they're absorbing souls on the regular for the energy zing, of course). A phantom who goes more than three days without a single soul will start dropping the hunger meter fast, and if they can't find someone to eat, they'll probably go offline a while so they can rest and think things through.

It's all about energy. Even Scott's not immune to naptime, no matter how hard he denies it. Have you ever seen him sleep when he's on-server for like, the Life series and stuff? He's out cold. Might as well be in free-cam with how little reaction you'll get out of his body. Maybe he really does go into free-cam and wander around, pretending he's sleeping when he's really not. Scott's the type who can't settle down for anything. Maybe that's why he's so big on cozy little builds.

But the thing about 'No horses in New Star' is, well… Not having horses doesn't leave him with much to do on nights like this when he's stripped of title and stripped of wings. He should probably be taking Brittney out to dinner, but since he wasn't expecting to, y'know… Lose his wings this weekend, he didn't make reservations early enough. Brittney's fine! She's doing Gals' Night tonight with Cocoa, Jewel, Ferks, and Vera. They'll have fun. Bdubs snorts, kicking his foot against the edge of town square's fountain.

A stubborn sniffer, an athletic ravager, a sharp-eyed hoglin, a parkour-loving axolotl, and a beefy glow squid walk into a bar… Now that's a group you don't wanna mess with. The ravager is not the one with the most XP in her close combat skill. And Bdubs knows firsthand that as mellow as his beloved wife is, she's not afraid to headbutt or wrestle around. Look- phantoms do wrestle, but even Bdubs finds himself all too easily pinned when facing a woman with four arms.

I should bring her some chocolates. Not back to their server, obviously, but they've got an apartment he's spent… way too little time in lately. Bdubs stares down at his reflection in the fountain water. His mossy cloak sways, hands tucked in his pants pockets beneath. No wings. Nobody paying him any mind. Hhh… Well. Brittney still loves him. And even though she's got a Gals' Night going on, it's not hard to be romantic. He does this all the time, obviously.

Plucking blossoms off the cherry trees is going to be such a pain without wings.

I mean, it's just temporary… He'll get his wings back after someone cycles him through the system, but that'll knock him out for a week if he's not careful. The secret plan is to join Cub in Hermitcraft tidying - They're down to the last couple days before the Season 9 download drops, you know - and then treat the guy to dinner tonight. Scar ate last week. So did Etho's mystery vex… whoever he is.

See, that's the problem. Since unthreading's illegal, it's not like there are lots of other vex to choose from. Phantoms have a game balance stipulation in their code that prevents them from logging each other out properly, so submitting to a vex is the easiest way to go. Not a lot of other vex besides those two around, which is such a shame. Sure, New Star Station is a refuge, but most of its residents peaced out of the anarchy world before they ever mod up (either forcibly or of their own will).

Modding is a skilled art, especially if you're looking for body tweaks that will stay consistent in and out of different servers (not to mention Between). Tango's one of the best aesthetics modders Bdubs has ever met. That lion-like tail he wears wherever he goes? That's free advertising. Do you have any idea how hard it is to code an additional limb like that, and make it prehensile and expressive at the same time? Yeah. Tango's your guy if you like looking pretty.

What? Oh, yeah. There's zero horses in New Star. Bdubs already logged out a straggler who dropped to phantom hour and refused to pathfind home, too busy flirting instead. Combined with the "Thanks for being a captain; here's your parting meal" thing from yesterday, his hunger bar's topped off. No point in hunting. There's nothing else to do if you're a phantom except whatever the captain orders. And Martyn tasked him with the delivery route.

Bdubs climbs the clock tower and ducks inside the storage room. Pungence already prepped a satchel of souls for delivery. He always does. Good on him. Some people have an easier time hunting than others (Physically and/or emotionally). Bdubs slings it over his shoulder and turns out the lanterns. He shuts the storage room door, but leaves it slightly propped so it won't auto-lock. None of the fox eggs look like they've hatched yet. Hard to tell, though… Most are under a blanket. A few sit by a magma block.

Bdubs glances at the stairwell, but Martyn stomped off with Cleo. He'll be back soon, of course, of course, but… Don't they need to be rotated? That's what Etho always says. Etho used to eggsit for his mom all the time before he finally moved out of her den and settled long-term in New Star.

The fox eggs are Martyn's responsibility. It does him no favors if Bdubs handles everything for him. But… Bdubs walks over and touches one of the exposed eggs with a hand. He yanks his fingers back.

Too hot. Oh, they're cookin'.

Dozens and dozens of eggs lay cozied up in warm wool blankets all around the roost. Bdubs shifts the eggs nearest the magma block away and replaces them with the eggs at the farthest blanket edges. He tucks the blanket under a bit more, sends Martyn a whisper - Leaving for delivery route, eggs look kinda cold btw but I rotated the ones on the magma - and heads downstairs again. Every step clunks and clangs. When he reaches the bottom, he's got a response from Martyn… but it's not much to look at.

InTheLittleWood: k

All right. If that's all he has to say, that's all he has to say. So off on the delivery route he goes.

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

#trafficblr #Grian #GoodTimesWithScar #desert duo #MumboJumbo #BdoubleO100 #SnifferMyFeet #The Buttercups #ridwriting #Dog's Life #Dog's Life art #apparently art #fic announcement #mcyt #Pixels Imperfect #Sniff and Pig #NPC Grian

[ultraviolet-cello]

Today's episode analysis is number 7 - Wolfwood. Now from here on out I get wild abt theories so do watch out hehee

Spoiler warning for tristamp and trimax, general tws for most of those, and enjoy my analysis/details if you want :]

@tristampparty

TL;DR, there's still something fucked up with Livio and Razlo

I CANNOT believe this MOTHERFUCKER is wearing a seatbelt, but still reading a book and controlling the car steering with his mind. I hate him.

Okay so when Livio gets up here, he's been down for the count for a while, the mask has seemingly. Broken a little bit, his irises have contracted a noticeably amount, and the way he moves is different. So I could attribute that to just, whatever brainwashing EOM has on Livio is falling apart, but I think it's more likely Razlo is stepping into front in some way or another. If the remote-switch mask theory has anything to do with it, the breaking of the mask could be tugging them both into a rapid-switch state.

In any case; something is clearly different - Livio's fighting style as we've seen is very steady, holding the guns in place and just walking forward. Maybe-Razlo here just gets up and flings himself at Vash, starts running, absolutely whaling on the Punisher with the Double Fangs (Which is accurate to Trimax - if you read their pages closely, Livio and Razlo have very different ways of moving that then converge into a more semi-coherent style post volume 10)

Also like, it doesn't have to just be one thing. All of the things I point out here can also be interpreted as just the breaking free from brainwashing thing. Could be both!

I'm Not Done with this scene yet because then uh. Livio-Maybe-Razlo starts looking a little dizzy, starts wobbling, hands shaking. So with Dissociative Identity Disorder, the difference between that and OSDD-1b (Another type of system) is usually the dissociative aspect. When alters switch in, it's usually accompanied by a period of dissociation, which looks to an outsider like the person is dizzy, vacant, or blank. The dissociative period is also common in rapid-switching. I read Livio and Razlo as a DID system and it is definitely the most well-known type of system, so if Studio Orange is trying to portray them as a system, they'll most likely be characterized as DID.

MORE VASH FIGHTING STYLE STUFF!!!

So aside from being just a physical martial artist, I dabble in traditional okinawan kobudo (weapons) as well - one of these being the tonfa, which is a baton type of weapon. Vash in this scene is using his gun similarly - holding it by the handle and swinging the muzzle to block and strike. In the second image you can see him winding up to get the full arc of the swing in for more power.

These are what tonfa look like, so I especially appreciate how similar Vash's gun functions! You hold the handle in a loose-ish grip and can swing them overhead and around for extra Thwack Power

Oh you can actually see him spin it back in that blocking position (holding the long end against your forearm so you can just lift and block with your forearm, since the part of the tonfa is shielding you) here! Come to think of it, when blocking with the Double Fangs, Livio uses them similarly.

Once again Roberto calling out that Vash is not human - again he's had the longest time to Hear about Vash's reputation and now he's seeing it firsthand. Imagine spending all your life knowing of a legendary guy and then when you actually see him he looks. like 20, and at least some of his fighting prowess is true.

I guess I'm also curious about like. The mask has been breaking for a While now, and then when it completely powers off that's when Livio starts coming back to reality, which could lend to it being neural-connected in some way. I think it's really really interesting that EOM has specifically suppressed or trained Livio's mind so well that he barely recognizes Wolfwood - But how did that happen without Razlo's interference? Did he agree to this, was he manipulated into it, did Livio make that decision and it was too late for Razlo's protectiveness to kick in? Or is this a means to control both of them? Season 2 please please please ple

I'VE GOT MY ONE FRAME OF RAZLO EVERYONE GO HOME

Okay seriously though I do want to uh. Has Razlo just always had that idea of what he wants to look like or is there some kind of Very drastic change going on lmao. Because there is no way Stampede "Twink" Livio has the body to pull this off, no matter how much hair gel and tits out clothes Razlo can put on. If that sort of image was created by eom as an intimidation thing (because Razlo is Chapel's golden child) though, that's fucked up especially because like. Razlo and Livio struggle sharing a body enough by themselves.

Not grabbing a screenshot but it's uhm. Well. Livio shoots himself in the head specifically, which does seem to be the weak spot for EOM agents, which uhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Like we've seen Razlo foreshadowing Right There there's not a chance he's actually dead, but it's probably gonna fuck him up. Further. I wonder if there's gonna be some body construction fuckery going on later on?

Roberto just sitting down and giving up is kinda funny but also like. Yeah. What do you do in the face of such alien, incomprehensible odds and events. Roberto's very,,, chill about dying, which is an attitude that lots of people would have on Gunsmoke/NML (I know it's nml. but i like gunsmoke). He just wants to go out drinking on his own terms (which... well, he does.)

Meryl's decisions in the control room are so so fascinating. Meryl in Trimax is a little bit insane about Vash (following him, quite literally, through the apocalypse), and we're starting to see her belief and trust in him in this scene. She believes in him And in Wolfwood. and Roberto, Roberto who has always said that he'd take the path to live, believes in Meryl, enough that he's apparently ready to take the chance to die with her, even when given the option to leave by himself.

Meryl is also taking control of her own agency in this situation; she has been an extremely reactive character up till now, but here she gets to say what Meryl Stryfe would do in this situation. Not getting yanked around by people bigger and taller than her, not having to report to her seniors, just making a choice on her own that she knows might kill her. Women on Gunsmoke/NML aren't afforded a lot of agency (Rosa had to try and capture Vash for the bounty so Tonis could live, Meryl in any iteration deals with a lot of adversaries using her as leverage against Vash or taking control away from her, hell, Tristamp Elendira isn't being afforded the agency to grow up! She's been like that for 20 years there is definitely some fuckery going on, whether it's Tesla cells not allowing her to age past the point Tesla was when she died, or Conrad or Knives keeping her that age for some reason). It's nice to see Meryl's arc revolve around taking that agency for herself.

OKAY NORMAL AGAIN. the fucking MUSIC in this scene is insane, it's so,,, I don't know how to explain it but it's so Big and Vast. Also the ion cannon laser looks much like a Punisher laser. Which uh. Woag, if that's the case. And Razlo gets three of those bitches? forget the deadly weapons everyone's gonna just die looking at the light show.

A design element I really like for Legato is his hair and how neatly it's trimmed. I drew a parallel to Knives cutting off a slice of his hair when they first met each other, but I do genuinely think that Legato might be so meticulous about it specifically because of that. Knives means so so much to Legato, and Legato seems to reclaim his body from his past sexual abuse by devoting himself to Knives in an act of empowerment (or at least that's how I read it), which,,, I mean it's hair, but i really am a curtains are blue guy.

Tristamp Wolfwood is often. A tad shorter than Vash which is extremely funny to me. Nightow said Wolfwood's taller and everyone, including the guys making a 3d animated love letter to trigun, said no he isn't ^_^

I need to start collecting these fucking smiles that Vash gives Wolfwood. It's specifically,,,, Trimax and 98 Wolfwood call Vash out on the fake smiles. But Tristamp Wolfwood doesn't, because most of the true smiles we see from Vash are directed at him. Or something. Idk i'm normal

Wolfwood has been holding the Punisher like this all episode, and it's ~~really cute~~ (Tristamp Wolfwood gives me awful cute aggression) but also,,, maybe self-soothing. Keeping the Punisher directly in front of himself as a shield. Looking out over Hopeland as the Punisher acts as a barrier.

White Girl Wasted :pensive:

Vash's hair looks like a little flower here :]

Annnnd Vash down for the count!

So there's so many things, always, to do with these episodes, and I will Not be stopping lmao

Thank y'all who left nice comments on my last analysis post, i'm glad everyone had fun reading it!

#cli speaks #tristampparty #trigun #trigun stampede #cli analysis