#needed it freed from my drafts

[mystxmomo]

still not sure how to fix that one.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Sakumo being a super popular borderline sex symbol in his era will never stop being my favorite hc, I need to see more of it

All the people his age and younger had a crush on him. It was just a Thing(tm) where 9 times out of 10, a Konoha shinobi's first crush was probably Sakumo. Even other villages young shinobi hung up his bingo book picture above their bunk and dreamed of both killing him, being killed by him (in a hot way), having a battlefield fling with him, and more. There was blackmarket fanfiction. He was incredibly popular among civilians all over fire country. Some popular romance novels had love interests very blatantly based off him.

Even before they were on a team together, Obito and Rin both had a silly kid crush on Kakashi's dad (Obito more than Rin) and he was aware of it. This did not help make him like them any more. (By the time hearing smthn positive ab his dad would have made Kakashi softer, they'd both gotten better at hiding the crush, so to Kakashi it looked like they'd gotten over Sakumo.) Even Minato had a bit of a thing for him, not really but like— strong, popular, feard and very friendly ninja who is now paying him some attention (bc hes his kids teacher) he's not immune. Kushina understands, she is also not immune. (Kakashi is going to throw a fucking fit)

Even after his failed mission, when his reputation crashes and burns within the village, he still can't completely shake his admirers— they possibly just get more disrespectful ab the attraction when it mixes with the hate. (Which tbh could make for an interesting discussion all on its own)

Kakashi is haunted by his father's insane popularity for decades after his death. He does his very best to ignore the lingering evidence of people being insane ab his father.

One day he realizes one of his favorite romance novels has a romance interest based off Sakumo and has a break down ab it and can never read the series again.

When raiding an old abandoned enemy camp w Team Ro, he finds an old, autographed photo of his dad covered in lipstick marks in the communal bathroom. He chooses to ignore it but it's quickly spotted by his teammates, who do not know who Sakumk is, and v quickly begin to remark on the poster, who this mysterious Konoha nin is, and ahaha damn he is kinda good looking, huh? (Kakashi wants to DIE)

Shisui ends up taking the poster back to Konoha with them and hangs it up in the ANBU communal quarters where it is VERY quickly recognized. And also some of the people in that room recognize it so quick bc they also used to own a similar poster. (Kakashi wants to DIE someone PLEASE kill him now)

Its only when he's given team 7 that he finally thinks he's escaped the legacy of his father as Konoha's Most Sexiest Shinobi. Only for Naruto, when being trained by Jiriyah, to find his drafts for Icha Icha very clearly inspired by his dad. Which he can never publish for multiple reasons (lingering respect for Sakumo. Also for Kakashi, who is his biggest fan and would probably never look at him again.)

Naruto somehow accidentally brings this up with Kakashi who like. Has war flashbacks and immediatley stands up and walks away as Jiryah scrambles to try to explain himself and Tsunade looks on in scorn (she will approach him later to carefully ask for the drafts while trying to seem like she's not really asking for them bc she's too proud to admit it)

Naruto and Sakura discover Kakashi-sensei's dad was a sex symbol. I don't even know how they'd react but like. Oh my god. Oh my god you guys.

Funniest option would be they accidentally revive his popularity a little bit by being so loud ab it they like, remind people ab him. + introduce another generation to the idea of him

Kakashi is crouched on the floor with his face in his hands. When will he be freed from this hell.

Sasuke does not escape tho, he goes to sound and finds a picture of Sensei's dad in Orochimaru's office (???????)

This is such a shitty sketch but the vision:

Itachi, who learned who Sakumo was from that poster thing, goes on to find a photo of him in ""Madara's"" belongings and gets super weirded out but ultimately doesn't. Super care. But also. Like. What. What.

After Itachi finds the photo, which Obito genuinley forgot he fucking had and keeps in part just bc its like one of the only belongings that remained from his Konoha days, he shoves it somewhere in Kamui to forget about.

But then in the Obito vs Kakashi Kamui fight, it fucking flutters down in the middle of the fight and Obito fucking dies of humiliation as Kakashi realizes he will truly Never Escape and that this reality is his own personal hell

Uhh endgame Kakashi becomes Hokage and accidentally retreads his father's path in becoming the new Konoha Sexy Man. Which simultaneously crushes him (he will never escape) and fills him with delight (he will now be able to impart the pain of having your father figure be lusted after by all ur friends and acquaintances onto his students)

[dimonds456-art]

CUPHEAD CROSSOVER!

@year2000electronics ask and ye shall receive

Ramblings under the cut!

The general idea is that the AU follows a similar story structure to Cuphead, but the lore is similar to Gravity Falls. There's just one key difference: everyone can see and interact with Bill. He just can't really interact with our world. Yet.

Bill is a projection, brought forth by Gideon Gleeful. He would allow Bill free presence, and in return, Bill basically made him famous, AND his Earthen right-hand. So he takes the place of King Dice.

From there, the history is almost the same as GF. Ford came here to investigate anomalies, found Gravity Falls, met Bill, and started building a portal. The possession came with a different cost this time, though; Ford's soul. Bill promised he'd be in good hands and that it's just kinda part of the gig, but because of this, Bill's ability to possess him never left.

Once Ford got the metal plate installed, Bill was limited, sure, but he still had control of the soul contract, meaning he could basically just. Force Ford to do shit. The main limiting factor here is that he has to know where Ford is and has to be able to see him. If he can't see him, he can't control him. Once Ford is in the multiverse, this is the main reason Bill can't get him. He doesn't know where Ford is.

The main story is just everyone in Gravity Falls making really really stupid mistakes. The only person who has not fallen for Bill's games is Stan, who- like Elder Kettle- tried to warn the twins about making bad deals, but ultimately this fell through when they got curious and visited Gideon's tent, where Bill was also observing.

In my interpretation of this AU, Pacifica takes the place of Ms Chalice. She's hurt and alone, and her dad made a deal with Cipher that resulted in. this. I like to think it was a Monkey's Paw type scenario, but my brain is an egg so I'll figure that one out later. Basically Pacifica wants her body back (ghost rules the same as the DLC), so she decides to help Dipper and Mabel under the belief that they can assist her once Bill is defeated.

However, this falls through. However the deal worked, it persists, and Pacifica starts to wonder if she'll always be a ghost. But that's where Ford comes in.

Ford, taking the place of Saltbaker (kinda? kinda.), offers to try and help her restore her physical form. Call in the twins and let's be off let's go. He says he needs to build a machine that could potentially reverse the effects permanently, and he needs parts. So that's what the twins are doing. The cookie is replaced with an astro-physical restorative remote, but a really, really weak one, and it requires a host to work, keeping the idea that one of them will always be a ghost until the machine is done.

The only problem with this plan is that Ford's contract with Bill is not up, and was not destroyed by Dipper and Mabel, and Bill can see him now. So. In short, that ain't Ford.

The parts the kids were gathering were for the portal.

Once they figure that out, we get a Baking the Wondertart equivalent, Bill is defeated, and in doing so, Ford is freed of the contract as well, meaning Bill can't mess with him anymore.

Not sure if Bill lives all the way to the end of this story, but there is a good chance unless I figure out how to kill him, seeing as Weirdmageddon probably doesn't happen here.

Gotta think on it more, but that's the basic idea. First draft. All of this is subject to change hdfsdfjh

[lyrefromthesea]

Male Hashira x Reader - Livin' on the Farm

author's note: this was a request, but i've managed to accidentally delete my whole inbox. as a result, i can only work on the requests i still have in mind or in my drafts, apologies.

request: how would the hashira react as livestock on a cow hybrid farm with a new farmer!reader? (i was mildly surprised when i read they get milked by their cocks. it made me laugh without a doubt.)

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: nsfw, probably cum as milk alternative?

Tengen:

• Obanai and him were the first to spot you. they initially thought you were another cow hybrid that got transported to the farm.

• he'll quickly realize that you're, in fact, just a human, who had been given the duty to watch after the livestock here.

• he's one of the biggest cow hybrids you'll find, only smaller than Gyomei, but much more territorial. he has no problem seeing you with the other cow hybrids unless he wants you alone, it'll instantly get his mind to sync with his more animalistic instincts.

• how they behave when it's time for milking: he won't walk to the machine alone, you have to bring him there every time it's his turn. has no problem letting you put the pump on his cock, but gets whiney when near the end.

• "it's enough, i can't make more milk.. take it off, how am i able to produce more like this?" luckily for him, you listen to his whines. truthfully, he could probably get milked one or two times more, but you still take pity on him.

Obanai:

• like i mentioned earlier, Tengen and him were the first to spot you, confusing you for another cow hybrid at first.

• it took him a minute or two to realize you were just a normal human. his tail had already started swaying slowly by then, leaving the impression on his mind that you were fragile and needed protection.

• he was really silent at first. he's not the most social person and it's seldom someone new arrives at the farm. it doesn't take him long to warm up to you, seeing how you quietly sneak him treats, because he tends to eat less than the others.

• how they behave when it's time for milking: while Tengen only lets himself get milked when it's necessary, Obanai finds the building pressure uncomfortable at some point. he'll quietly approach you by then, giving you a glance that has you realize what's wrong.

"i'm sorry, Obanai! How long did you stand there? You could've said something." you had been working around the farm, it took you a while to notice others during that timeframe.

"not long.. can you..?" he's shy to ask, but never disappointed when you immediately agree and guide him to the milking machine.

Rengoku:

• Gyomei and him met you last. you were supposed to check on the livestock, having walked towards him because you spotted Gyomei near.

• Rengoku sat up, head poking out of the hay to get a sight of the new farmer. he immediately liked you, you looked like a nice person with a big heart, albeit a bit shy.

• he has a habit of exploring, often forcing you to search for him. somehow you'll always find him sitting somewhere on the meadow, doing whatever seems fit to him.

• how they behave when it's time for milking: he's up for it, often already waiting near the milk machine so you have an easier job. it's the least he could do. he doesn't complain about the machine, but a few words and a laugh always signaled when he was nearly out of milk.

"i think that's ha- i thinks that's enough.." it doesn't take long for him to be freed of the pump. he tries to keep himself from whining, overplaying it with one of his laughs, but the sight always makes you quietly laugh.

Sanemi:

• you met him a few minutes before Giyuu. he is truly one of the more tiring cow hybrids. he takes pride in his being and presents himself as a strong bull if you were to ask.

• he had ignored you at the start because, why should he give you attention? you were a mere human - fragile and weak. and-

• and when you pulled on his tail, making him yelp and turn around with wide eyes, you suddenly looked much stronger in his eyes. it was milking time and he had ignored you, that was your revenge.

• how they behave when it's time for milking: he'll trot after you like you're about to give him a punishment. you swear he doesn't stop complaining about the pump, but it's surprisingly easy to put it on him.

"this stupid thing should be thrown away. there's no need to-" will give you a glare and a groan, you turned the pump on without a warning.

Giyuu:

• he had spotted you before you had spotted him. he had watched your first interaction with Sanemi, not surprised when the other male walked away after a few minutes.

• he just didn't expect you to see him a moment later, walking towards him with a smile. he wasn't a social man, but he quickly became smitten with you when he learned who you were

• nice and beautiful. smart as well and you treated him so kindly - almost as nice as a mate. he'll quietly stay near you from time to time, ready to help but too silent to say anything. the day you asked him for help just made him more fond of you.

• how they behave when it's time for milking: he doesn't complain and lets you guide him towards the machine calmly. he tries to stay silent until the pump has finished, but his small moans and grunts signal that he's near the end with his production.

"are.. are we finished..?" he almost looked disappointed when you took the pump off his cock, he could do more for you! but you know it's enough from the way his eyes almost looked a bit clouded over, ears twitching when he grew overstimulated by the pump.

Gyomei:

• if it hadn't been for his size, you would've met him last. he was more silent than the other hybrids on the farm, but his presence seemingly was enough to establish some kind of respect for him.

• you knew that he was blind from the information that was stored about the different cows, but you nearly wouldn't have been able to tell by his confident stance.

• he probably spent a long time on the farm, now knowing it like the back of his hand. in addition, he liked following you around, carrying heavy objects for you, because he knew you weren't as strong as the hybrids on the farm.

• how they behave when it's time for milking: he's probably the calmest out of them all. he know what's about to happen and doesn't see a problem, you're doing your job and you do it good for them all. he doesn't complain either, only small shudders indicating that he has had enough time on the pump.

"you're good, Gyomei! you can go back to the others now." you smile, seeing the man slowly stand up. if you hadn't known him so good, you wouldn't have noticed that he's a bit slower after milking sessions.

"do you need help?" you were almost surprised by his offer, but seeing the tall hybrid tower over you made you smile. you wouldn't mind help when it was from someone like him.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hellooo, can I please request a Joel miller x reader oneshot where the reader had a really bad day at work and she’s calling him from the bathroom crying and he immediately rushes to pick her up? 🥰🩷

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary A disheartening setback at work leads you to call Joel, who always knows exactly what you need [fluff, 1.6k].

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! Really enjoyed writing this one.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Hi, are you busy right now?

A heavy exhale is freed from your chest the moment you hit send. It’s quiet in the bathroom except for the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet. Muffled voices arise from the hallway as people pass by, some preparing to commute home. Warm tears stream down your cheeks. 

No sooner does your phone vibrate to life, a picture of you and Joel at McKinney Falls filling the screen. There isn’t much time to compose yourself before you press the accept button with a shaky thumb. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Got done early today, we’re cleaning up the site,” Joel greets, wind in the background. Tommy’s voice emits from nearby as well, followed by rowdy, cackling laughter. “Hold on a second, lemme get someplace quiet.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

There’s shuffling on his end of the line that eventually subsides. It’s still worth clinging to even though he’s miles away. 

“Sorry about that. Everything alright?” Concern dances around the edges of his words. You can tell he’s trying to keep them from being consumed. 

After Sarah moved out for college, he’d gotten better at accepting that every phone call he received from her didn’t automatically mean trouble. Most of the time, she simply wanted to catch up now that she lived two hours away. 

However, the opposite was true between you and Joel. Nowadays, you spend so much time together that there’s seldom a need to talk on the phone. The fact that you were calling him, from work, no less, meant something was up. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t do much for the wavering of your voice when you finally speak up again, “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your subsequent sniffle makes him grow still. You can see it through the phone. It’s in the way he doesn’t immediately respond, gears undoubtedly turning in his head. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” There’s a gentle, almost melodic quality to his voice that makes you wish you could lay your head on his chest and feel the rumble of his words. 

“Today’s just been a lot,” you tell him. “You know Alexander, the Bulletin’s editor?” He makes a small sound of affirmation. “It wasn’t his decision, but he pulled me aside to let me know my feature has been put on hold for further revision.” 

Relaying the news makes fresh tears well in your eyes. Over the past few weeks, Joel has watched you pour yourself into each stage of constructing the story to do the subjects justice—the meticulous research, heartfelt interviews, and late nights perfecting every draft. 

It was a labor of love, a piece that sought to illuminate the struggles of longtime Austin residents, artists, and small business owners navigating the challenges of gentrification and displacement. 

“Something about it being redundant.” Which, for all you knew, could be higher-up code for we don’t want this stepping on the toes of donors with deep pockets.  

“You’re kidding,” Joel grouses, disappointed for you. 

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “I wish I was,” you breathe. “Redundant, yet they’ve got room for age-old dieting tips and holiday gift guides every year,” you say, voice wavering. 

“I know, I hear you. I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothes, releasing a heavy sigh. “At least it hasn’t been canned entirely. That’s worth something.”  

He’s right, but it still feels like a slap in the face considering all the time invested. From you and everyone who shared their story. 

“It just sucks,” you sniffle. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now I feel even worse.” A dull ache has settled in your temples. 

Shuffling arises on Joel’s end of the line again, and you remember that he’s still on site. 

“I’m sorry. You can go if you need to.” 

Instead, he comes back with, “Hang tight, okay? Gonna come get you.” 

When you bite your lip instead of responding, he keeps talking, “Should be there in twenty, give or take.” 

As appealing as it sounds to be whisked away, reality is quick to set in. 

“No, it’s fine, Joel. Tommy and the guys need you. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t good for it,” he replies. 

•••

Outside, you’re met with a relaxed breeze and the dwindling warmth of downtown, where the sun eases towards the horizon. A few tourists mill around, men and women in business casual stride by with messenger bags. At Joel’s truck, which is parallel parked across the street, he gets the door for you. An 80s station plays low on the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run faintly recognizable. 

You watch as he rounds to the driver’s side in that relaxed stride you love. He looks handsome despite his mused hair and the specks of dried paint on his shirt. When he climbs in, you’ve taken notice of the ice-cold raspberry tea in the cupholder closest to you. 

Along the way, he’d stopped and gotten it from the cafe you and Sarah frequented whenever she was visiting from school. You only went alone as an occasional treat, but he knew how much you liked it. 

A smile buds on his face when you pick it up and take a grateful sip. There’s a softness to his gaze that makes warmth bloom in your chest. With him, even the little things seemed to say, I see you. 

When you extend the cup his way in a silent offer, he waves you off. However, curiosity gets the better of him after he pulls off the curb. “Guess a sip won’t hurt.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, you smile when Joel hums at the flavor. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. When he places his hand on your thigh, you intertwine your fingers with his, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

A comfortable silence settles between you. It isn’t until you’ve left downtown that Joel speaks up again, voice measured and sure, “Your story will get out. Those guys know good journalism when they see it, and they’re gonna have to run it.” 

You glance over at him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as hope kindles in your chest.

“Hell, I’ll make my own publication if that’s what it takes. The Miller Times.” 

A chuckle bubbles out of you, but you could cry at the same time. For an entirely different reason this time. 

“I could get in trouble for going to a different publisher,” you remind him, running your thumb over the back of his hand as a small smile plays on your lips. “I’m on staff.”  

“I know, honey.” Joel squeezes your hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it, though. You thought about it for a second. The Miller Times has a nice ring to it.” 

He can see you fighting against your growing smile. “It’s alright.” 

“I’ll take that,” he concedes. Then, a greater air of sincerity settles over him. “What’s that one saying—setbacks are setups for something better.” 

You nod, gazing out the window as you turn into his neighborhood. 

“Don’t let this weigh you down.” 

You felt worlds lighter with him. 

•••

The warm spray of the shower feels so good against your skin that you remain under it even after the day’s troubles have washed away. Three months ago, you would’ve had to use Joel’s body wash, but your products and belongings had since made their way here. Some, he bought because he knew you’d be around, and others—namely, clothes—that migrated from your apartment. 

The word home has lost its shape in that regard. Not in a detached way of not belonging in any one place, but in that Joel’s house had begun to feel like just as much of a home as your cozy one-bedroom a few miles away. 

When you finally step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around yourself, you can see straight into the bedroom, where Joel is stretched across the bed. The sound of the shower door closing prompts him to sit up with a low grunt. You offer a shy smile upon meeting his gaze. 

“Promise I’m not creepin’ around,” he says, standing to his feet. “Just wanted to see if your headache was gone. Can bring up some Tylenol if you need it.” 

“It’s fine. I feel better now,” you assure. With a satisfied nod, he turns to leave with the intent of giving you space, but stops in his tracks when you speak up again, “You’re allowed to creep around if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Joel saunters into the bathroom doorway, propping an arm against the frame. The motion causes his bicep to strain against the sleeve of his shirt. Getting to see you like this, the intimacy of it all, always makes him feel grateful and warm. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re the boss,” you lilt.

With a low chuckle, Joel pushes out of the doorway and moves to stand behind you. You stare at your joint reflection as he rests his large hands on your hips, then leans down to press a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder. His frame is broad and rugged behind you, but his eyes are kind. 

When you rest your hands over his, he presses a second kiss to the crook of your neck. Then another just beneath your ear. His lips are so soft and warm against your damp skin that you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine and makes you press back into him. 

“I like you like this,” he whispers. “Relaxed…smiling.”

Now that you’re in his arms, it’s hard to imagine having stayed at the newsroom. With the meetings, chatty colleagues, and constant blue light. It’s quieter here with Joel. The world at large has disappeared while your smaller one keeps turning.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” you admit. 

But Joel did. He always did. 

-

Thank you so much for reading. Like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

MORE

[deltarogers]

FRENZY

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

SUMMARY: Steve comes home to you from a mission after being hit with some sort of powder. Turns out it’s an aphrodisiac…and it’s strong.

WARNINGS: PURE SMUT, no plot really, 18+, MDNI, SHORT AND NOT PROOFREAD.

A/N: I was craving some depraved Steve, so here! I had this in the drafts and decided to finish it. I hope you guys enjoy! I have more plot thick fics coming out soon!

You were curled on the couch with a half-finished mug of tea, a blanket draped across your legs and your phone dimming with a forgotten text thread. The apartment was quiet, soft city sounds bleeding through the windows…too quiet without him.

Missions always made you anxious. Steve could take a punch better than anyone, but still... he was your safe place, your constant, and when he was gone, it felt like the world had lost color.

He was late. And not in the usual "had to stop by HQ for debrief" kind of way. No, this was hours.

Long enough that you'd started pacing. Long enough that when the front door finally clicked open, your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding.

He was staring at you like he hadn't seen you in years. Like he was starving. His fingers flexed at his sides, and he didn't speak, didn't drop his duffel, just closed the door behind him and locked it with a decisive click.

"Steve?" You were hesitant. "Are you okay?"

He was not. At least, not by your standards. His chest was rising and falling faster than it should've been for someone who'd just walked in. Sweat beaded at his temples. His voice was rough when he finally spoke.

"They hit us with something. Some kind of fuck- I don't even know. Red powder. Natasha said it was a hallucinogen. But it's not. Not really. It's..." His eyes dragged over your body like a caress.

"It's something else."

You were swallowing thickly, heart racing as you stepped closer. "What do you mean something else?"

He was already moving. One second, you were standing near the kitchen island, next, your back was pressed against it, and he was crowding into your space, heat pouring off him in waves.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he was growling now, words bitten off between clenched teeth. "Since it hit me. Can't breathe right unless I'm near you. My skin hurts. Everything hurts, except when I think about touching you. Being inside you."

You were breathless. Scorched. Wet already, embarrassingly fast, and he hadn't even laid a hand on you yet. "Steve-"

He was kissing you before you could finish, mouth crashing into yours. Desperate. Messy. He groaned like it hurt to kiss you, like it hurt not to. His hands grabbed at your hips, your waist, your thighs, like he couldn't decide where to touch first.

You were melting. Your fingers slid into his hair, tugged hard, and this made him growl into your mouth.

"Bedroom…" You tried to say

"No time," he was gasping, already pulling your sleep shirt up, hands greedy and trembling. "I need you now. Right now."

You were half-lifted onto the counter, legs parting for him automatically, instinctively, as if your body had already made the decision for you.

He tore at his suit, too frenzied for finesse, groaning low in his throat as he freed his cock…thick, hard, already dripping.

He was out of his mind. Kissing you like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth.

Pressing the blunt head of his cock against you, slick with your arousal. "You smell like heaven," he said. "Taste better. Fuck- gonna die if I don't-“ He mumbled, not able to finish a single thought as you consumed him.

You were gasping as he pushed himself inside of you, your nails digging into his back, anchoring him there. He filled you in one slow, torturous stroke…too big, too good, hitting deep.

He was panting against your throat, rocking into you with bruising, punishing thrusts, his control shot to hell. "So warm. So tight. You were made for me- fuck- made just for me."

You’d never seen him this desperate. He was normally a perfect gentleman, preferring to make love to you, taking you nice and slow. But this- this was feral, this was unhinged for him.

But you loved it.

You were clinging to him, sobbing his name, the edge coming faster than you could handle, everything inside you tightening like a bowstring.

And he held you so tenderly, making sure you weren’t hurt from the counter. You didn’t know how he was multi tasking…not like this.

He was relentless. Worshipping and ruining you in equal measure. "Not gonna last," he growled.

It hadn’t even been five minutes.

He normally had good stamina, and lasted a while before he came. The powder, whatever it was had to be behind this.

"It's the powder- I can't-shit, I need-need to cum inside of you, please-"

You were already there, already falling apart, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to complain, not that you cared. Not when Steve was grinding deep, chasing his own release, spilling hot and thick inside you with a broken sound.

He was trembling when he kissed you again, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged. He rode you both through your high, pressing his head to your chest.

As you both stilled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, sweetheart” He said after a few seconds, his breathing still uneven.

You shook your head, still out of breath as well. “You have nothing to be sorry for” You said softly, nodding “I really enjoyed whatever that was…” You admitted and he looked up to meet your eyes.

“Really?”

“Really, honey” You confirmed “I love when you’re gentle, but this…I’m speechless” You said and after that, you felt him get hard inside of you again.

The poor Super Soldier let out a whine. “I don’t know how long this is going to last” He said and you gently cupped his face in your hands.

“You can take whatever you need, honey” You said “As long as it lasts…” You assured.

And with that, round two began….

FIN.

A/N: This was an old draft but I spiffed it up a bit. I hop you guys enjoyed!!

[siphoklansan]

「 ✦ Who’s Watching Me?! ✦ 」

COMIC UNDER THE CUT (CONTAINS OCTATRIO🫧)!

NOTES ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

I have this in my draft for a long time now and only posted it now because of this short comic help😭🙏

I should explain what is happening right? So, this was set when Jun-Pa stole Siphok’s identity against her will. Siphok was trapped in a jar during this time. As you know, Siphok is Jun-Pa’s soul, and Jun-Pa needs her soul back to be able to go into the afterlife and meet her father. When Jun-Pa revealed her true motives to Siphok and asked her to “merge” with Jun-Pa, Siphok politely declined.

I mean, who wouldn’t? Siphok wants to live and be with her friends. Totally valid, right? Well, not to Jun-Pa. Siphok unfortunately couldn’t escaped in time before Jun-Pa trapped her in an ancient jar. Those who go in, can never get out unless they are freed from the outside.

Jun-Pa was only doing this to give her a little scare, but who knew committing fraud can be so difficult?! While they both do look alike, their personalities were quite different. Which is why a few of NRC main casts can tell something was off. Floyd, for one, says that his “shrimpy is not squeezable and too stiff” and also finds her off putting. The beastmen have sensitive noses, and Jun-Pa smells like incense, they are also off-put by her. Leona later on told Jack to keep an eye on “Siphok”.

Ortho can definitely see that “Siphok” has no vital signs (AKA no heartbeat or breathing because, well, Jun-Pa is dead) and was alarmed. Jun-Pa managed to silence Ortho just in time before he made a ruckus.

Storyline aside, the last frame of “Siphok” was supposed to show Jun-Pa’s not-yassified-form. I wasn’t feeling like drawing any gore, so I only gave her some burnt marks. The shattering line across her face was inspired by old Thai mannequins that is kinda creepy. I couldn’t capture the creepiness much here so I do apologize because this was quite rushed😔🙏

Thank you for reading till the end! I appreciate any questions regarding this story💖🙏

[amaikute]

cheer up, baby!

SUMMARY&TAGS: nerd, unistudent !gojo x fem unistudent! reader. established couple, the reader is stressed out abt a grp project, fluff, kissing, petnames: baby, lovely

authors note: A bit self-indulgent lawl my novel study group refuse to read the book which we get graded on our discussions for.. n e ways thank u for the love on my last fic, I love love uni toru with my heart so more to come for sure!

It's freezing. Snow fell all over the campus, dusting the trees and sidewalks in a white blanket. She trudged through the big uni campus, bundled up in her puffer coat, thick scarf, earmuffs, feeling the weight of her frustration in every step she took. There's a project due next week, after sending who knows how many emails to her groupmates about the project, politely reminding them about the deadline for their parts. Yet, she's been in a monologue this whole time, being met with silence.

Her feet led to a stop right in front of Sartoru’s apartment, fixing her thick scarf and trying to ignore the tears building on her lower lashes. Her classmates weren't making it easier for her while already trying to balance her classes, her part-time job, and now this stupid project.

With a soft sigh, she presses the buzzer to her boyfriend's apartment. After a few seconds, the entrance unlocks. She walks in slowly, her footsteps heavy and her shoulders slightly hunched from exhaustion. Her eyes were already glossy, the first hint of tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she looked at him. A soft pout sat on her lips, trembling slightly as she bit down on them, trying to hold it together.

When she reached his floor, his door opened with a click, as if he were waiting for her. There, Satoru was, barefoot in grey sweat pants and a hoodie with some dumb obscure math pun on the front of it. His black rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, and his messy white hair had a pencil tucked behind one ear. She must’ve caught mid-study.

“Toru..” she murmurs, a little broken. A quiet sadness is present in her voice.

He pauses, his eyes scanning over her: the puffiness around her eyes and how her head seemed to hang. She never showed up at his place with a look on her face like that, or a defeated air that appeared to replace the more playful air she usually carried. He quickly stepped closer to her.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs gently, stepping aside to let her in. “C’mere.”

She steps inside, shaking off her boots as he shuts the door behind her. He turns to her, helping her unwind her scarf, brushing strands of her hair out of her face before removing her earmuffs. The last to go is her coat, which he zips down with careful hands. As her arms are freed, she wraps them around herself. Satoru hung her jacket in the closet, then reached for her again, cupping her cold cheeks, his thumb softly brushing under her eyes. “Baby, what happened?” he whispers, every word dripping with concern. She tried to speak, but her voice faltered. Her lips trembling before she sniffled, finally choking out, “I’m doing this project, and all my groupmates aren't answering my emails, messages.” She hiccups. “I've been doing everything by myself, and it's due next week, and I'm so exhausted, toru.”

“Shh,” He hums, pressing a kiss to one corner of her lips, and one to the other. “I got you, breathe, lovely.”

“But–

“Nuh uh,” He kisses away a tear. “Worst case, you email your prof and explain what happens if it isn't done in time. I’ll help you draft it, or better yet, I’ll vouch for you myself if I need to.”

She blinks up at him through wet lashes.

Satoru grins, trying to lighten the mood. “We can even attach text receipts and the ghosted emails if we want.”

“But…” she mutters softly. “What if he thinks I'm just blaming them?”

Satoru shakes his head slightly, gently nudging her with his hand on his back until they reach the couch. He sits down, pulling her down, and she drapes her legs over his immediately. “Then try reaching out one more time. Only once, though. But it's Friday night, why let this ruin it?”

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. She melts into him, face buried into his hoodie, inhaling the faint scent of his ridiculously expensive cologne, detergent, and something sweet that always clung to him. His chin rested on the top of her head.

“You deserve better groupmates,” he whispers. “You’re intelligent and hardworking, and even though you're extra pretty when you cry, cheer up, lovely.” She lets a muffled sound into his chest, a half-laugh, half-sob.

“I'll always be here for you.” He murmurs quietly.

“I just wanted to do good on this project,” she sighs, fingers curling into his hoodie. “I don't want to fail.”

“You won't. You just need a break. You've been going at it nonstop.” He whispers back, tightening his arms around.

Her sniffles start to halt, her breathing steady as she sinks into him.

“And in the meantime,” he said, resting his cheek against her hair. “You're staying right here with me all night.”

“But I didn't bring anything over to sleep in?” She mutters.

“Good think I bought you a emergency pair huh?” he smirks, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She titled her head at him, puffy brown eyes meeting sharp blue ones. “You're weird, Toru..”

“Incorrect, I'm just prepared for anything s'all.” His words earn a soft giggle, a smile sitting on his lips.

“There's my girl,” he coos, a stupid grin on his face. “Missed you.”

She looks up at him, something genuine and warm sitting on her face, “thanks toru.”

He leans down to press a kiss to her lips, slowly and carefully. “Always, lovely.”

© amaikute '25

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega/ Fem!Bodyguard

Summary: you’re her bodyguard also g!preader

Warnings: bad smut prepare your self

WC: 1.7k

Author’s Note: it’s my first time (most likely my last) writing smut. Don’t know where this came from but hope y’all like it. Sorry for any mistakes. Also I have few too many unfinished drafts some of them being AU’s for Tara I’ll try to finish them as soon as possible. Or least finish one.

You stood a few inches away from the actress as she smiled and talked with a few fans. 'Never be too far from her. Keep her in arms length.' That had been a rule you always followed. The short six months that you've worked for her have been, different. You had joined the marines right after high school. Being in the marines for six years. You had been given the choice to renew your contract but you had declined. Figuring that six years was enough.

Now you worked as a bodyguard for a sweet actress. Jenna Ortega. Americas new it girl. So far you loved the job. Jenna was everything and more. Caring, kind and amazing. She was so kind to her fans, which was why you were behind her as she spoke with some. She had been talking with the small group of girls for the past few minutes. You looked down at your watch, the actresses had a tight schedule you had come to learn. Especially Americas it girl.

A small tap on her elbow was the signal. "Sorry guys but I have to go. It was nice meeting you." Jenna smiled and gave the four girls separate hugs. Thanking them and saying goodbye. Allowing you to lead her way.

"Bye Jenna! Bye Y/n!"

Strangers knowing your name had also been something you were now used to. You smiled at the girls and waved back. Leading Jenna away towards the building. It was a good thing it was a mostly empty parking lot. She had an interview but it was a video interview and she had it set back in her hotel room. It was the last thing she had scheduled for the day. You smiled slightly when she looked up at you, while you both waited for the elevator.

It wasn't long till you were in the hotel room. Closing and locking the door before you had your arms full of a short brunette.

"Finally. We're alone. How can I miss you so much when you're with me all day." Jenna complained her face hiding in your neck. She couldn't help but smile when she smelt your cologne. It was a sent she loved. The feeling of your strong arms wrapping around her waist as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The way you effortlessly picked her up. She had never felt so safe with anyone, not in the way she felt around you. From the very first moment she met you, she had known that it'd be easy being friends. She had not prepared herself to fall in love. Loving you was so free, so easy.

"Mmh I missed you to baby." You walked towards the bed and laid on your back. Jenna was quick to get comfortable on top, tuck her face into your neck. Stuffing her hands into your shirt. Smiling when you felt light kisses being placed on your pulse. Never did you think that by getting this job you'd find the love of your life.

"I can feel, how much you missed me."

Your breath hitched when you felt her grinding on your lap. Part of you hardening. Your hands moving to rest on the back of your head as you watched her grind on your lap. Bitting your lip at the sounds of her moans and whimpers. The way her nails dug into your stomach.

"Y-Y/n please." Her hips stuttered before trying to go faster. Her hands shaking a clear desperation of need, as she tried to unbuckle your pants. She looks up at you her eyes filled with lust and desire. "I-I need you."

"Now? baby you have an interview in a few minutes. Don't start something you can't finish." But just as you said that. You thought of something. Something that had you taking a grip of her wrists. Stopping her movement. Your length fell heavy on your stomach after you freed your self from your pants.

"Come on then. You know what to do." You knew exactly what you were doing. Was it risky? Yes. But did you love the thrill. Absolutely. You watched as she quickly pushed her panties to the side. Not bothering to take them off. It was a great thing she was wearing a skirt.

"FFuck." The overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure over took her body as she felt your tip grazing her clit. Then the stretch of your tip entering her. No matter how many times she was intimate with you, she'd never get used to your size. The need and want of always having you inside her was something she always craved. The feeling of your length stretching her out as she continued moving down until she bottom out. The ecstasy of it all.

You jerked your hips up, watching in satisfaction as she threw her head back the way her breathing hitched before the moans escaped her lips. The way her walls tightened around you as she continued to let out her screams of pleasure.

The sound of Jenna's phone ringing was heard throughout the room, "Answer the phone." Seeing the tremble of her body you knew she was close. But she had a job to do. So with that you gripped her hips. Halting her movements. You ignored the whine coming from her lips.

"Answer the phone. I won't ask again."

Knowing she couldn't argue she answered the phone. Her hand shaking, her hips instinctively twitching every few seconds. Like her hips had a mind of their own. "H-Hello?"

"Jenna the interview is in 5 minutes. Get your laptop set up, the link has been sent. I can go to your room to hel-No! I" A small moan escaping her lips, when you jerked your hips up. she was quick to cover it up with a cough. Eyes widening as she looked down at you. A smirk was what she got in return.

"I got it don't don't worry about it. I'll I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone throwing it to side.

"Y-Y/n baby please. Faster."

You knew it was a risk but your horniness was at an all time high. So you got the small foldable bed table. Putting it on your stomach. It already had her laptop.

"Nonono. I can't. I'll I'll just reschedule it."

"No. Do your interview or we will stop right now. Now be my good girl and do your job." Your hands squeezed her rear cheeks. Her soft flesh warm in your hands.

She could see how red she was. The thin layer of sweat was noticeable but not as much as she tried to focus on what the interviewer was saying. You were using her, your length still inside her. you stayed like that for a while, then you started to move. The shock of pleasure shot through her body, biting her lip so hard to keep in the moans that threatened to escape. She felt it again. And again. Every single twitch into her g-spot. It almost had her rolling her eyes in pleasure. But holding in the need to bounce into your length was starting become painful. She needed to come, needed for you to wreak her like you always did. The need for you to leave her satisfied and legs shaking from the strong orgasms. You never left her unsatisfied.

"You alright Jenna?" The interviewer asked when he got no response.

"Uh y-yea. Just think I'm coming down with a cold or s-something."

But then you started to fuck her slowly, her hips being held down by your strong hands. The pace was painfully slow.

"Oh a cold? I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try to wrap this up as quick as possible."

She covered her mouth with palm of her hand. Masking it as a yawn. As you found a steady but still careful pace. The pleasure she was feeling in this very moment was becoming too much. Just the thought of getting caught had her clenching on your length. The filthy thought stayed. What if people knew what was happening? The thought alone had her wanting to chase her orgasm more.

You on the other hand were having so much fun watching the actress struggle. Twitching your cock deep inside her, seeing her fight the pleasure as she tried to keep a straight face and answer the questions being asked. You could feel her wetness sliding down your cock. The way her thighs were trembling. Ah the self control that she was showing, it made you want test it even more.

Reaching your hand in between her legs, finding the swollen bundle of nerve and pinching it. Loving the muffled squeak that escaped her lips. Her underwear was completely soaked, the feeling of her clit in between your fingers, your own heart beat thumbing in your ears as her walls clenched your length the more you played with her clit.

Her knuckles were white from how tight she was holding the handles on the small laptop table.

"Okay Jenna that's it. Thank you for taking time out of your day to do this interview with me. I hope you get better soon."

"Th-Thank you. And thank you for having me." With a wave the interview was finally over. Slamming the laptop shut. She pushed the table off of you. Not caring that laptop was on the table as it fell on the floor. Her nails scratching your toned stomach. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed you, she needed you to move. The two orgasms that she had while she spoke to the interviewer were not enough. Although her thighs would say otherwise with how much they were shaking.

"Baby please, ffuck me."

The night was spent with rough but passionate love making. If someone asked her why she was walking weird the next day, she had ignored your smug look as she explained how she fell the day before. But she couldn’t deny that she was eager to do it again. The soreness be damned.

:)

[rekino2114]

Prosecutor girls when you get accused

A/n:sooooo this might have been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months and I needed something to post today because I'm still busy with tomorrow's drdt fic (I know but I swear it's gonna be worth it it's coming out great in my opinion and I can't wait for you to see it)

There are spoilers for Layton vs Wright in darklaw's part but only in my author's note

Lana skye

Lana was livid when she heard her partner was being accused. She had already gone through that herself, and she hated the experience. The idea of you suffering the same way she did filled her with dread.

She asked Phoenix to defend you like he did with her, and assured you that he was the best defense attorney she knew. She also tried to use her connection as ex chief prosecutor to get a prosecutor she knew wasn't corrupt to take your case.

While she might look calm and composed on the outside, she was genuinely so worried while watching your trial from the gallery. No matter how many times Ema tried, even she couldn't calm her sister down.

After you were found not guilty, she just hugged you and breathed a huge sigh of relief. She was incredibly happy your trial ended the same way hers did

"It's alright you're free now, I'm really happy for you........ I love you, I don't you to feel the same way I did"

Franziska von karma

If lana was livid, then Franziska was just furious. What kind of foolish fool would think her partner could commit a murder? She took your case without thinking twice and went to comfort you at the detention center assuring you that you would get freed

Her whip is gonna get one heck of a workout with how many people she'll use it on:gumshoe whenever he missed even the most minor piece of evidence,your lawyer whenever he did anything really,she thought they weren't doing a good enough job defending you (especially if it's Phoenix) and the judge whenever he referred to you as the killer.

This was basically the only time when she thought her win record didn't matter. It was already broken anyway, and her love's life was way more important, she would gladly lose a case if it meant you would be saved.

After the trial ended she went into the defendant's lobby and hugged you tightly and silently, it was probably the most emotion you had seen her, she was scared to lose you but now she had you again and she couldn't be happier.

"I'm happy those fools have finally understood the truth. You could never be a murderer, I love you my love"

Darklaw/eve belduke

(Let's say that both men and women can be witches in this au, and also the magic is real cause that plot twist is really really dumb and I hate it)

Darklaw was also angry when she heard you were being accused of being a witch but unlike the other two girls she was angry only at a specific person, the storyteller, the fact that he had the nerve to write a story where her lover was an accused made her even more pissed at him that she already was.

Normally, she'd get barnham to handle such cases, but since it was you, she obviously took it . Literally everyone was surprised to see the high inquisitor herself taking a seemingly normal case like this.

She seemed as ruthless as usual against Phoenix but you could see how her heart ached with every argument she presented as the possibility of you being found guilty and thrown into the flames grew and grew.

Luckily, you were found not guilty, darklaw went to you after the celebrations were over congratulated you and apologized for taking your case, you understood why she did, then you kissed and she carried you back to your house (she insisted)

"I always knew you weren't a witch dear, I simply took your case to make sure you would be found not guilty, I hope you understand, I'll never leave you and I hope you feel the same"

[women-in-ssports]

DRAFT NIGHT

“Paige Madison! You look HOT twin” Nika yelled walking into the door catching a glimpse of Paige getting her final touches done for draft night. “TWIN” Paige squeals as she tries to move toward Nika, before Brittney’s arm shoots out to hold her in place. “Hold on, just a second” Brittney says eyes rolling over Paige to make sure everything looks perfect

Nika now pouting in the corner turns slightly “Well if she won’t give me a hug, can I get one from you? I did come all the way from Croatia to be here tonight” Laughter breaks out in the room as Azzi moved from her seat with open arms toward Nika. “Of course Nika! Come here! We missed you” “I missed you all too!” Nika gets out before Azzi swallows her up in a hug.

Azzi feels a hand on her shoulder “Hey you’re going to hurt my twin” Paige says laughing moving to hug Nika as Azzi steps aside laughing. “So where is everyone?” Nika says looking around the hotel room

Looking over at Paige, Azzi raises her eyebrows with a small smirk. “What happened to everyone Paige” Paige turns to face Azzi with disbelief visible on her face “way to sell me out” turning to Nika, Paige adds “I might of had a mini meltdown and needed some space. They all went grab some food. We don’t have pictures for an hour and then have to be at the carpet”

Time Jump

Now that pictures were done Paige found a quiet corner to the side to gather herself before the carpet. Her whole world was about to change in one night. After tonight she was no longer going to be a UConn Basketball player she was going to be living her dream.. the WNBA. It was to surreal to take all in right now. “Hey P, are you ready to go down” Azzi says softly reaching out a hand to take Paige’s in hers. “As long as you’re there to catch me if I trip on this carpet” “Promise” Azzi replies places a small kiss to the hand she was holding in hers

Paige walked down the carpet alone, at first but was soon joined by her sibling. Azzi stood to the side admiring Paige and how radiant she was. Tonight was her night and Azzi wanted to let her shine. However just because Azzi was okay standing off to the side, didn’t mean that’s where Paige wanted her. As if on cue Paige was waiving Azzi over to take a few pictures with her. “Have I told you how stunning you look Az” Paige whispers as she fixes a stray string on Azzis outfit. “Only once maybe twice in the last 10 minutes” Azzi replied through a dimpled smile aimed at the cameras.

Draft Time

[Paiges draft table: Mom, Dad, Sibling, Azzi]

The intro to the draft is background to Paige at this point. Are white noise to her as she twirled her fingers around a loose string on her napkin She goes to the in a breath, then another, same as she does when she is on the freed throw line to calm her nerves, but it isnt working. She feels a hand slip between her own. When she looks over she sees Azzi smirking not taking her eyes off the presenter. “Paigy, this is so cool. I’m so glad you’re my sister, I am so proud of you.” Drew loudly whispers from across the table. Causing a few head turns and small soft smiles at her little brothers words. “Thanks Drew” Paige replied with a soft smile

“And with the first pick in the first round of the 2025 WNBA College Draft, the Dallas Wings select Paige Buckers from the University of Connecticut”

Paige’s heart caught. She could hear the crowd, picking out her teammates voices cheering for her. This was it. She stands almost robotically turning to hug her family going to her parents first, then her siblings. Each saying how proud they were of her. Lastly she turns to hug Azzi, placing a small kiss on her cheek before turning to go on the stage.

It’s not until Paige is back at the table seated, listening to the 3rd pick of the draft that it kind of all hits her. She’s officially in the WNBA. Her dream. As if she could read her mind, Azzi scotches her chair alittle closer reaching out to grab her hand she whispers “Your dream Paige, it’s real. Relax” Under Azzis touch she takes in a deep breath and for the first time that night her heart calms. Looking around the table at her family first and then turning to look at where her teammates sat in the crowd she couldn’t help but smile.

Later that night

“Let me carry you” Paige slurred moving to pick Azzi up as she opened the door “that for when you get married P” Azzi snorts squirming away from Paige worried they might both end up on the floor if she picks her up. “Put I got drafted” Paige says turning toward Azzi with puppy eyes and a pouted lip. “Then shouldn’t I be carrying you” Azzi reply’s raising an eyebrow “come on” she says as she grabs Paige’s hand and walks toward the bed.

Slipping on the shirt Paige was wearing earlier and throwing another at Paige herself to put on she slipped into bed. Azzi anticipating the warmth of her gf looked up confused when she didn’t feel her after a few moments. Turning over she looked toward Paige staring out the window. Sliding to the opposite side of the bed she positioned the pillows where she could easily lean back and reached forward to guide Paige’s hips to sit between her legs. Pulling Paige back on her she wrapped her arm tightly. Neither girl spoke as they watched the sunrise and slowly fell asleep in each others arms.

A peaceful silence in the air.

[mariacallous]

A famous parable revolves around the troubled relationship between a scorpion and a frog. A scorpion needs to cross a river. Unable to swim, the scorpion asks a frog to carry him on his back. Listening to the request, the frog responds that he is hesitant because he fears that the scorpion will sting and kill him. After the scorpion assures his new friend that he would never do that, the frog agrees. Halfway through the journey, the scorpion stings the frog. Slowly dying, the frog asks, “Why did you do this?” The scorpion responds, “I’m sorry, but it’s in my nature.”

The story is a classic lesson about how dangerous people don’t usually change. Even when promising that they will act differently, the likelihood is that they won’t. It is also a tale about taking warning signs seriously. The frog understood the risks that he faced, yet he chose to ignore them.

U.S. presidential elections frequently involve warnings signs. Over the course of a campaign, voters learn a great deal about the candidates running and the potential costs of putting someone in office. Sometimes, a majority of voters decide to heed those warnings, yet there are other times in U.S. history when voters end up the frog.

In 2024, there are more warnings signs than usual about one of the major candidates: the Republican nominee, former President Donald Trump. There are big red flags from both his first term in office and his post-presidential years waving over and over about what Trump 2.0 would bring. Another one came on Wednesday, when the Washington, D.C., district judge handling the federal election conspiracy case against Trump unsealed a 165-page document with the fullest picture of what special counsel Jack Smith had found.

To understand how voters have the capacity to cover their ears to avoid hearing alarm bells, look back to 1972, when President Richard Nixon won reelection in a landslide victory against Democratic Sen. George McGovern. Too often, the story of Nixon’s reelection in 1972 and Watergate are treated separately. The thing is, there were, in fact, many people warning of who Nixon was as a politician and what he would likely do when freed from the restraints imposed by having to worry about reelection.

The familiar narrative on the 1972 election is that, riding high on diplomatic breakthroughs with the Soviet Union and China, Nixon defeated McGovern in a stunning victory that rivaled President Franklin Roosevelt’s coalition-building reelection win in 1936. There were many Americans who didn’t like Nixon or his policies, but it wasn’t until investigations in 1973 that his severe abuses of presidential power were revealed. Had the country only known more, so the story goes, the electorate could have averted the disaster they collectively faced on Aug. 9, 1974, when Nixon stepped onto a helicopter, leaving the White House in the middle of his second term.

In fact, numerous representatives and senators had been trying to expose Nixon’s nature even before that election. After Nixon announced on April 30, 1970, that he had secretly deployed troops to Cambodia and conducted a massive bombing campaign, there was a fierce outcry from Democrats about how he had lied and threatened the balance of power to accelerate a disastrous war. Idaho Sen. Frank Church and Kentucky Sen. John Sherman Cooper began drafting a bill to prohibit the president from using congressional funds for operations in Cambodia. Congressional critics railed against Nixon’s turn to impounding funds that they had appropriated and which he failed to veto. Soon after the break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate building in June 1972, Democratic Rep. Wright Patman, a Texas populist, attempted to launch an investigation into the connections he suspected between the burglars and Nixon’s reelection campaign. The effort, covered by the press, was undercut by Nixon and his allies on Capitol Hill.

Journalists and public intellectuals were on Nixon’s case long before most voters cast their ballot. In 1971, the administration’s efforts to prevent the press from publishing the Pentagon Papers, a secret Defense Department study exposing the lies told to justify the war in Vietnam, required the Supreme Court to intervene, culminating in the 6-3 decision in New York Times Company v. United States, which allowed publication. The media praised the decision as a blow to a president who was intent on stifling the press. In March 1972, Life published a story based on a nine-month investigation that accused the Nixon administration of having “seriously tampered with justice” to insulate supporters in San Diego from criminal prosecutions involving illegal campaign contributions. “The administration has in several instances taken steps to neutralize and frustrate its own law enforcement officials,” the magazine noted.

By mid-October 1972, the Washington Post, the New York Times, and Time were publishing stories about an FBI investigation into whether Nixon’s reelection team was involved in sabotage operations, including the break-in at the Watergate building, against the Democratic campaign. On Oct. 16, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein published a blockbuster story about how Nixon’s personal lawyer, Herbert Kalmbach, revealed that he “was one of five persons authorized to approve payments from the Nixon campaign’s secret intelligence gathering and espionage fund.” Nixon campaign manager Clark McGregor was so frustrated with reporters that he accused the press of acting politically, stating, “the Post has maliciously sought to give the appearance of a direct connection between the White House and the Watergate, a charge the Post knows—and a half dozen investigations have found—to be false.”

And then there was McGovern, who made Nixon’s corruption a major theme in his final months on the campaign trail. In his acceptance speech at the Democratic Convention, McGovern said, “From secrecy and corruption in high places, come home, America.” In late September, during visits to three states on the East Coast, McGovern called Nixon “scandal-ridden” and “corrupt.” Speaking to labor leaders in Atlantic City, he warned that “If we let this Nixon-Agnew administration have another four years, I think they’ll make Warren G. Harding look like a Sunday school teacher.” McGovern called the Nixon administration the “trickiest, most deceitful” in U.S. history. On Oct. 17, he told a rally in Fort Worth, Texas, that Nixon was attempting to “escape responsibility” for the break-in and, in the process, “polluting the faith of the American people in government itself.”

McGovern’s emphasis on corruption intensified in the final weeks of his campaign. “As the net of truth closes tighter and tighter around the president himself,” he said, “they try to persuade us that the spying, and lying, and burglary, and sabotage will not affect the election because people expect these things of politicians.” If voters chose Nixon, he said, they would be selecting four years of “Watergate corruption.”

The problem was that McGovern was running against the wind. In mid-October, Gallup found that a minute percentage of Americans ranked corruption as a top issue; only 52 percent had even heard of the Watergate affair. The public concluded that both parties were equally corrupt, so it didn’t matter who was in office.

Nixon defeated McGovern by winning 49 states, including a sweep of the South, and 60.7 percent of the vote.

Today, the warning signs about Trump are all in broad daylight.

The first threat is Trump’s embrace of election denialism. The former president demonstrated that he is willing to destabilize the democratic system when election results don’t go his way. Multiple investigations have unpacked the systematic campaign by Trump and his allies to overturn the 2020 election, which culminated in the violence of Jan. 6, 2020. Since the insurrection, Trump has continued to deny the outcome—as did Sen. J.D. Vance during his debate against Gov. Tim Walz, when he refused to acknowledge that Joe Biden won. Moreover, the Trump campaign has made several strategic moves, such as supporting a change of rules by Trump-allied members of the Georgia State Election Board that will make it easier for local officials to question and delay the counting of ballots; this could easily create a certification crisis.

During his time in office, Trump refused to accept that there were limitations on what a president could do. Surrounded by advisors who believed in the unitary executive theory, Trump did what he wanted to do until someone was able to stop him. Formal or informal guardrails were not his thing. Trump’s expansive, and dangerous, views of presidential power were clear during the first impeachment trial when the United States learned how he had threatened congressionally appropriated aid to Ukraine if Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky did not agree to help dig up dirt on Biden and his son. Trump and his supporters were very clear that he will flex even more of that muscle should he be given another chance to do so. He has often spoken in public about collapsing the firewall that has separated the president from the Justice Department since Nixon’s downfall, and he has threatened to use that prosecutorial power to go after his opponents. In one Truth Social post about Smith’s investigation, Trump said that there would be “repercussions far greater than anything that Biden or his Thugs could understand.” Written by many high-level officials in Trump’s operation, including Stephen Miller, Project 2025 is a 900-page road map to a massive expansion of executive power.

Finally, Trump poses a serious risk to human rights. Between 2017 and 2021, undocumented immigrants were subject to intense and inhumane punitive measures, such as the separation of families, in an effort to disincentivize border crossings. In response to #BlackLivesMatter, Trump asked former Defense Secretary Mark Esper about shooting civil rights protesters in 2020. He famously had peaceful protesters in Lafayette Park cleared out with tear gas all so that he could get a photo-op. Finally, he was the instrumental force behind the creation of the 6-3 majority on the Supreme Court that overturned Roe v. Wade.

The United States paid a high price for its decision in 1972. Nixon’s second term was consumed by the Watergate scandal, which rocked U.S. politics, traumatized and divided the nation, and resulted in decades of deep distrust of government. In 2024, will voters heed the warning signs?

[wystiix]

"just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat."

❥ pairing: furina x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: So it's all finally over, Furina was free from the restraints of the curse and now she could live as a normal human being. Oh, but oh shit! What is it like to live as a human? A very strange concept to grasp indeed. ❥ cw: post-archon quest spoilers (fontaine), angst, first fic so it may be a bit ew but anyways ❥ additional tags: second pov perspective, reader is not traveler ❥ word count: 2.7k ❥ notes: remind me to NEVER write again because what the shit why is this so long. but yeah anyways my first fic woohoo 🗣️🗣️ i jsut want to get this out of my drafts like please this has been bugging me I HAVE SCHOOL TOO OMLKSDJSAJ. also this is kinda based off my last relationship cuz like my ex pushed me away and allat yk (i'm praying to god they don't see this). but ye reader is kinda a bitch like towards the end btw. i wrote this mainly in a romantic perspective, but this can also be interpreted as platonic!! yahoo enjoy <33

Humans are complex beings.

Tapestries of contradictions, thoughts and emotions, all woven together into the fabric of mere existence. They can wear masks, putting them on as a display for the appeal of others. Other times, they put on a mask to deceive—making others believe they are something that they are not. Perhaps if they fake it just a little more to an extent, even the divine could be fooled.

People may do it to gain approval. Others may do it for self-satisfaction. Whatever their reason, they have the choice to remove their mask at any point.

Furina, on the other hand, had to put on that facade for five hundred years. All that, in order to fool the Heavenly Principles and to free Fontaine from its prophecy.

In that, she succeeded.

Ever since Focalors’ execution, she was freed from the curse that had been laid upon her for centuries. The restraints and pressure to conform to the public persona she had put on to please the citizens of Fontaine. That, of course, meant that she could finally live her life. Not as an Archon, but as a normal human being.

But how does one conform to the reality of human existence? Especially since she’d been in the guise of a god her entire life?

Furina was so used to presenting herself as a performer for so long that the experiences of mortals and her identity have been fractured and completely out of reach. She couldn’t even begin to grasp the nuances of mundane human interactions. Usually, she’d sit around, observing the humans– people around her. 

Differences flurried.

Some faces radiated with joy and their laughter could be heard like a choir of tinkling bells in the air. Others wept, perhaps even grieving, in the arms of their loved ones. Arguments erupted in one corner, and people’s raised voices could be heard.

Different faces and different emotions, all in one area. Very common human experiences—they all acted differently too.

As she continued to observe, it was apparent that they all had something quite similar: they all seemed genuine and had someone there to stick with them. If one person cracked a joke, they had someone to laugh with. If they were crying, they had someone’s shoulder to cry on.

Amidst all, the realisation struck her. It was painfully clear and it was being shoved right at her face. There was something they possessed that Furina herself lacked: authenticity.

Everything she did for the past five hundred years was an act. And she did it alone.

Sure, she was well-known throughout Fontaine—she did make sure to flaunt herself with a sprinkle of dramatic flair to protect her title as an “Archon” of the nation and to be seen as capable. She also had assistance from her Iudex, Neuvillette, working closely with him.

Other than that, she never had many friends throughout her life. She was lonely. Now that she wasn’t an “Archon” anymore, she felt she wasn’t needed. It was like she was going to get discarded now that she wasn’t making that false claim anymore.

That was until she met you.

You were but a passerby, strolling through the city, when the sound of soft sniffles caught your attention. Your footsteps led you outside the Opera Epiclese. There by the fountain, you caught a glimpse of Furina’s figure hunched over, her tears glistening in the faint light of dusk. The evening air was thick as you observed her from a distance. You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on her in her sorrowful and seemingly private state. Oh, but your empath instincts were acting up. Something urged you forward.

You took one step. Then another. And another. Until you found yourself standing before her, just a few feet away to keep a distance, each movement being out of impulse. Was your body on auto-pilot, perhaps? It wasn’t until—

“Lady Furina, is everything alright?” you asked gently.

Furina looked up at the sound of your voice, a little startled. Shit, was she not crying silently enough? In an attempt to mask the redness in her eyes, she quickly wiped her tears away and straightened up to her usual composed demeanour. Her crying was not a pretty sight, and she definitely did not want a passerby to see her in this state.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied in between sniffles, her voice wavering despite the attempt to appear nonchalant.

You stared at her. “Uhm, you sure? Your eyes seem all… puffy.”

Furina blinked, caught off-guard by your simple observation. “Puffy?” she echoed. She glanced down at the water fountain to examine her face.

While she was aware of the fact that she was not blessed enough to be a pretty crier, she may have underestimated how ugly crying actually was, because sweet Celestia she looked like she’d been stung by twenty angry bees. Her eyes were not only puffed up as you have mentioned, but her dark circles were more prominent, and her cheeks appeared inflamed and swollen.

“It’s nothing!” she insisted, waving her hand dismissively. Though, her gaze faltered as she glanced away from you.

You weren’t convinced. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“But it is nothing. It’s not like I’m crying. I’m just…” she trailed off, unable to form a proper sentence. “Just… don’t look at me like this. I’m not particularly at my best look as of right now, and I’d hate to display myself openly to a citizen. It’s humiliating.”

The air was thick with shrouded silence, and her closed-off body language indicated her hesitance to continue this awkward conversation. 

“Hey, I don't know if this means much hearing from a citizen as you call it,” you said. “But it's okay to cry. I'm not going to judge you for it.”

Furina blinked at you, her tears still cascading down her cheeks.

You shifted awkwardly in your spot, attempting to stand straight. “I may be a stranger and all, but I consider myself a good listener,” you professed, before briefly rubbing the back of your neck. “Then again, you don't have to talk about it if you're not keen to. I apologise for intruding. I could always go—”

“No, actually, uhm,” she cleared her throat. “I could use some company. I suppose that I, Furina, shall grant you the honour to grace you with mine own presence. Sit with me, dearest commoner.”

She patted the empty spot next to her, and you complied.

“My apologies, it seems I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm [Name],” you say.

She nodded. “Furina. As you may have already known.”

And from that simple interaction alone, a newfound bond blossomed, akin to a beautiful rose that had just sprouted in a garden. That day, being the best throughout her whole five-hundred years of living, because she made the greatest decision ever—giving you a chance to sit with her and opening up to you, because then, she could also have the chance to be with you.

Furina had a mass amount of free time in her hands now that she was, well, free. And she was more than willing to do it all with you.

People like you were difficult to come by. You were attentive, open-minded, considerate and caring. Throughout your time with her, you’ve always adhered to her needs—from surfing with her, to purchasing her most-wanted item in her shopping list no matter how useless, to actually reading any book she recommended, to watching her direct a film. It was not like she could complain, you both thoroughly enjoyed each other's company.

Ah. Was this what she was missing out on throughout her whole life? She felt much calmer and… happier. She’d never known such a feeling, the fact that she was able to let her guard down around you, the warmth seeping through her entire being. Furina was starting to appreciate the little gestures, the little mundane experiences humans experienced through you.

Even so, a sense of doubt crept into her head, agonisingly swallowing her being little by little. There was a shitload of things she was capable of doing, she is the Furina who acted without any celestial or divine powers, which was beyond impressive. But when it came to relying on others, she was practically braindead and felt completely lost. Her first instinct was to isolate herself and push others away and you were no exception.

However, you stayed patient, trying to be the attentive and understanding person you were and listened intently.

“It’s like learning a new dance,” you would say as you stroked her hair, gently wiping her tears away. “You don’t aimlessly move around and expect to make a cohesive dance routine. It takes patience, taking baby steps and feeling the rhythm. Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat.” You paused before adding, “I promise, I’ll always be here.”

She nodded, leaning into your touch. “And I promise to show you the same amount of affection you’ve given to me.”

One, two, three. Each basic step, slow and deliberate. Miss Furina had familiarised herself with performing arts, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was skilled in the area of dancing. This time, she was following your lead.

It almost made her feel bad that you'd be willing to do anything for her.

One, two, three.

However, like a rose in the garden, it was bound to die eventually. 

For your sake, she’d often mask whenever she felt any sort of negativity and play it off as something foolish. Hell, it felt foolish and idiotic. How dare she feel that way after the countless times you’ve reassured her?

One, two, three.

Whenever she felt out of sync and faltered, she would retreat immediately, often needing time alone by herself. You didn’t press further and would watch her isolate herself in her room. The rhythm was quite unfamiliar, but you shrugged it off. Perhaps it’d be something she’d get over and will be fixed eventually?

One, two, three.

That didn’t happen. It happened more and more often. The breaks occurred frequently, and Furina grew increasingly distant from you. The promise you bestowed grew emptier and emptier each passing day. 

One, two, three.

But she is trying her best. She really is. It’s been hard.

One, two, three.

“Hey, I’m not going to do anything. Just take it slow, breathe. Take a deep breath in… and out.”

One, two, three.

It had been months, almost a year now. You felt as though you were the one shouldering the burden of this relationship, leaving you utterly drained.

One, two, three.

The metronome ticked. The rhythm was far too unfamiliar for you.

One, two, three.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Furina looked at you as you stood by her door, confusion etching her features. “Pardon?”

You sighed heavily. “How long will this last? Do I not matter to you?”

“...What prompted this?”

“I'm not sure, maybe for the past few months you’ve been actively avoiding me and completely shutting down my efforts to help you?”

“No, [Name], it’s not that! You just don’t understand. I just… I just need some time—”

“Don’t understand what, exactly?” you snapped. “I'm trying my best to be patient with you, I really am but I can’t do that if every fucking thing is about you. I feel like I’m the only one trying to put effort into this, but you keep pushing me away. It’s like you don’t even fucking care. C'est exaspérant, I’m tired.”

Her lip trembled and she could feel the tears form in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Shove it up your ass, Furina,” you place a hand on your forehead as if you were pushing back the impending headache that was forming. “I don’t want to hear it. How about instead of spouting empty apologies, you actually do something and try to put in some real effort, yeah?”

“But I am trying!” she protested.

"Sure you are. You don't even seem like you acknowledge the things I'm doing for you,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fat tear that rolled down her cheek. You averted your gaze away from her and got ready to leave. “I’ll just go.”

Furina’s heart dropped, more tears spilled from her eyes. She got up to grab your arm. “Wait, please. Don’t leave.”

You stood still, not turning your head towards her. “That’s new.”

“Huh?”

You jerked your arm away from her touch. “That’s new,” you repeated. “What happened to your ‘I want to be alone’s, hm?”

“Why are you asking such ridiculous questions?!” she croaked, almost sounding like a whine before shaking her head. “No, I won’t allow it! Stay with me for a little longer, please. Can we just talk about this later?”

“Give me one good reason why.”

“I’ll do better, I promise!” she pleaded. Archons it was hard to get her word across and think straight when her throat was practically constricting while she was fucking bawling in front of you, but her desperation palpable. She didn’t care if she looked ugly, she didn’t care if her eyes burned like hell. This was far more important.

“You’ve said that for the umpteenth time,” you take a deep breath to prevent yourself from exploding because this goddamn headache was not helping at all. “This isn’t the first time you promised that, you’ve been ‘promising’ that for almost a year. It’s losing its meaning and, if I’m being honest, I don’t believe it anymore.”

Furina couldn’t find the words to respond to that. The deafening silence enveloped the room shortly before you broke it with a sigh. “Yeah, I should get goi—” “I’m just afraid.”

The words hung heavy in the air, taking a while for you to process it. You wanted to ignore it but something was holding you back. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that I’ll end up pushing you away for good,” her voice was barely audible. “I don’t want to make things worse for you if I suddenly open up.”

“You know,” you shook your head, the frustration was bubbling up. “It’s actually ironic because that’s the problem. That’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re doing everything you can that pushes me away further than anything else ever could.”

She hated how she couldn’t deny it.

“So what now?” she sniffled, her tears flowing more freely. “You’re just going to walk away just like that?”

“I have to. You're exhausting.”

And you did. Those were the last words she heard from you before you walked out the door. You never entered it since.

One, two, three.

Promises are fragile things. In the end, they are merely just words. It's funny how words alone can shatter someone so easily.

Every day, Furina would sit by the same fountain where you met, hoping to catch the glimpse of your figure walking by. She would look into your favourite places and special spots where you used to hang out, hoping you'd at least be there and patch things up.

You never did, not even once did you come.

She could never do the same things she loved the same anymore, because it often reminded her of you. Each time, she’d envision your silhouette, leaving empty spaces in places where you would normally stand or sit next to her.

So here she was in this position again. The lonely vessel she always was since the day she was created for the sake of the prophecy. Was this her fate? Could she find any peace of mind at all?

“I shan’t sulk like this,” she scolded herself. “I am the Furina, for Archons’ sake! I know better than to further humiliate myself like this.”

She wiped away her tears and straightened up. Acting like this as if Teyvat just exploded over one person was pathetic.

Just take it slow, and move your feet to the beat, she recalls you saying.

There was still time to heal. You weren't there anymore, but she still had to keep pushing through it.

It’s like a dance.

That line still echoed in her head.

One, two, three. The metronome still ticked. She had to move on. 

Furina still danced. She still had to take it slowly, step by step. Eventually, she will regain her footing—just this time, alone.

[tachiharastanacc]

please consider angsty platonic pairing: tachihara and kunikida

Current me here, I found this in my old drafts.

I’ve said it before but Kunikida and his “problems with authority” actually working with Tachihara would be so interesting.

I can imagine the ADA and mafia needing to work together for something, and Kunikida sees this teenager who (according to asagiri) looks like some kind of delinquent. And he fully expects him to not listen to instructions and just do his own thing, but to his surprise Tachihara takes everything he says incredibly seriously bc he needs orders.

So Kunikida is surprised, but it’s a nice change from babysitting Dazai and Ranpo who distinctly Do Not listen.

And maybe part of him thinks it’s a little odd that he follows orders without question, but he doesn’t think much of it.

Until, that is, he’s sitting in a hospital bed after being mocked by Jouno.

And Tachihara comes in dressed in his lil uniform and it just clicks for Kunikida,

And unlike Jouno, he’s nice and respectful, but he’s clearly anxious around Kunikida- partially from guilt, mostly from thinking he’s a terrorist.

Tachihara brings him meals when he’s free, and Kunikida tries to break through to him, but it doesn’t quite work.

Eventually they just silently agree not to discuss anything about the DOA or Yosano or Tachihara’s past.

Kunikida is freed, Tachihara fights Fukuchi, etc.

[pumpkin-padparadscha]

What if I just read "The Art of Losing" by @wafflelate a million billion times because it's my favorite.

Anyway the rest of this post is just going to be me going !!!!! so, spoilers ahead

Things I think intensely about:

-how suna is going to react to Gaara deciding to become the kazekage

-how any detractors of his new position are going to be IMMEDIATELY shut down because the "first" thing he does is "contract with a seals mistress to get the dead wastes converted into arable land" (who is going to prove it WASNT a seal? Sunas sealing sucks lol. And technically it did originate from a seal. Gelels seal.)

-how devastated Gai is going to be upon learning literally everything Kakashi went through

-how pissed as fuck people are going to be upon discovering that root seals can apparently block soulmate bonds? I feel like sealing people without their informed consent is about to become very very illegal outside of emergency circumstances.

-how the fuck is cat feeling. Does he believe Kakashi is dead? Does he hope Kakashi is alive?

-nara shikakunand yoshino are about to fucking eviscerate the elder council. Either they were aware of this bullshit or they were criminally negligent. Oh, what's that inoichi and shibi? Some of your family got kidnapped too? Maybe we should bring torture back to t&i. Just this once.

-kakashi is going to be so fucking proud of shikimaru. In his super repressed way. Maybe in a he deserves that legacy more than I ever did if he's feeling self deprecating.

-do you think temari has to sit through a million drafts and revised versions of kankuros shikabane play the more information comes out. Soul mates who were cut off completely from their connection, one believing the other dead, and the other never even educated about soul bonds. Them still recognizing each other enough that Kakashi was kind to her and she freed him instead of killing him. Please kankuro why can't you make the fight scenes longer.

-shikaku seeing shikakos complete shadow transformation and being like "yeah that's insanely dangerous to so much as think about attempting, I don't want to consider how bad things had to be for her to create that. Forbidden jutsu on account of who the fuck knows how she didn't end up falling into the black"

-does Gai feel like he failed Kakashi. Does he swear never to do so again. Imagine him thanking shikako for saving his friend. Imagine Kakashi being shocked Gai still considers him a friend

-hi inoichi this is my soulmate Kakashi, he did not take thinking I was assassinated well at all, do you have any self help books because he hates talking about feelings

-obviously she knows about seals because danzo wanted his own nara level intelligent seal master. Obviously she hid as much of her skill as she could from him because she isn't stupid.

-anyway here's a book a better storage scroll some medical seals and the seal to get rid of roots evil tattoo of shittyness.

-actually now I'm thinking about what if she DOES join suna because Kakashi has trouble feeling safe in konoha or just because being around a shikamaru who never knew her and idolizes Kakashi is kind of awkward.

-if they share dreams do you think she explains her original world to Kakashi after he dreams of cities he's never seen.

-wondering who was the first person to remember the lookalike yoshino nara missing nin that got mentioned in that one report.

-if I think about how nervous Kakashi is going to be the first time he trolls shikako and how he'll feel when she grins or laughs or goes along with it I experience An Emotion™

-"I don't know if you'll like them, but here's other you's favorite books. They make a good social barrier, and you've been looking a little overwhelmed."

-yoshino is going to cry so so so much. Her baby needed her all this time and she never knew it.

-kakashi learning that he was absolutely invited to shikakos funeral and danzo is just a dick who lies

[annieqattheperipheral]

you have to read this in full!!

i gotchu from behind the $wall:

The day Luke Prokop shook the hockey world by coming out, he needed to get away.

And stop looking at his constantly buzzing phone.

It was July 21, 2021, and the right-shot defenseman had just become the first openly gay hockey player under an NHL contract. The Nashville Predators’ No. 73 pick in the 2020 draft was just 19 years old and hadn’t even turned pro yet. He didn’t know how it would impact his future. His nerves were fried.

But one text message was impossible to ignore. He didn’t recognize the number but certainly knew the name.

“Hey, it’s Auston Matthews. I wanted to congratulate you. I look forward to sharing the ice with you someday.”

Prokop was blown away. The Toronto Maple Leafs superstar wasn’t the most famous person to reach out — that honor goes to Elton John — but the fact that so many NHLers, including one of the league’s best and most powerful players, were offering support meant a lot.

Now 21, Prokop still hasn’t taken the NHL ice, but on Wednesday he took a step forward, being recalled by the Predators’ AHL affiliate in Milwaukee. He could become the first openly gay player to appear in an AHL game Friday night for the Admirals in Rockford.

As difficult as the decision to come out was, Prokop told The Athletic in an extended conversation recently that he’s been mentally and physically freed by it. He doesn’t have to hide. He can be himself, on and off the ice. Heck, he can even date.

“It’s been massive,” he said.

Teammates and fans have welcomed him in his journey toward the NHL so far, from Calgary, Edmonton and Seattle of the junior WHL to, most recently, Atlanta of the ECHL. They treated him like he was any other player.

Not that there’s not room to grow. Prokop figured more players would come out after he did. They haven’t, not that he would rush anyone’s decision on that. He’s also been disappointed by the developments over the past few years with the NHL’s inclusion efforts, including the Pride tape “debacle.”

He can only control his own actions, though, and doesn’t regret his decision.

“I’d like to think I’m a realistic person,” Prokop said. “I know hockey is not going to be forever. As much as (when I came out) I would have loved to keep playing, I was OK with not playing any more if it didn’t work out — just being able to live my life the way I wanted, to be myself.

“But now, I don’t want to stop playing. It was definitely nerve-wracking. You never know what the reaction is going to be inside hockey, outside hockey, because no one has done it before. We kind of went out on a limb and hoped for the best. It’s been way more positive than we thought it’d be. You’re going to have some keyboard warriors, which there were a few, but I was expecting more.

“I did not expect the amount of support I got from NHL players. That was really cool.”

- - - - - - -

The Matthews text and Elton John phone call the morning after were memorable, with the gay rock legend welcoming him to the community and offering his email address if Prokop ever needed anything.

Prokop found even more comfort in a moment that came a few days later — the first time he played hockey since his announcement. It was a four-on-four league in Edmonton at Meadows Rec Center, a place where pros and NHLers competed and kept in shape during the offseason.

Prokop was on a team with Colton and Kirby Dach. The other team had Philadelphia Flyers goalie Carter Hart and the Boston Bruins’ Jake DeBrusk. During warmups, Prokop found himself near mid-ice. The first guy to approach him was DeBrusk. The two had met previously through mutual friends. DeBrusk tapped Prokop’s shin pads with his stick.

“Congrats,” he told him. “I’m really happy for you. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I didn’t know what the reaction would be,” Prokop said. “So that meant a lot.”

Prokop was returning that year to the Calgary Hitmen (WHL), the junior team he had played for the previous four seasons. But there had been a lot of turnover on the roster and, of course, a lot had changed for Prokop. So he decided to address the team in its first meeting in training camp.

“Everyone knows what I did last summer,” he told his team. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. There might be a lot of media asking you for an interview. If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to do them. If you have any questions for me, come ask me. I’m an open book. I just don’t want you guys to feel uncomfortable.”

In that dressing room, Prokop had heard plenty of the uncomfortable language that’s not uncommon for any locker room. He even admitted using it. He didn’t want to out himself. He wanted to act straight, be “one of the guys.”

“I heard it, but it wasn’t all the time,” he said. “I also took it from the perspective that these guys don’t know any better. It’s hockey language. It’s how guys talk. They don’t mean it in a harmful way. They use the word ‘gay’ as a filler at the end of a sentence to make something stupid. ‘Well, that’s so gay.’ I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I used it myself. I didn’t want to seem like I was out of the mix.

“Some guys texted me (after I came out), ‘F—, sorry if I said anything to offend you when we played.’ I’d just say, ‘Guys, you had no idea.’ The lesson is you don’t know what everyone is going through. The words you say do matter. Make sure you think before you speak. It’s a silly rule you learn in kindergarten. It applies to life when you’re 22 or 35 and never goes away.

“The way hockey is going with the language, guys are naturally changing their language. I’ve heard a change in language on every team I’ve been on.”

Prokop said that season was the best of his career, both from a production standpoint and a personal one. He was traded to the Edmonton Oil Kings early in the season and had 10 goals and 33 points in 55 games for them, helping them win the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup and advance to the Memorial Cup.

Luke Prokop won the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup with the Oil Kings in 2022. (Courtesy of Oilers Entertainment Group)

Luke Pierce, then an assistant coach for Edmonton and now the head coach, said the staff and management had discussions with the leadership group before acquiring Prokop — making sure they were comfortable with it, feeling out whether their room could handle the attention. Pierce said he asked one of the captains, Blues prospect Jake Neighbours, for his perspective. Neighbours had known Prokop since they were 10 or 11, growing up playing in spring tournaments together. He told Pierce and the staff there would be “zero issue” and he’d be a great addition.

Neighbours said nothing really changed, that Prokop “fit right in” to the team. Pierce at first wondered if players would have any issue with rooming assignments on the road, but nobody blinked. Pierce noted that Prokop would joke about situations and even opened up about his boyfriend coming to visit.

“He put everybody at ease,” Pierce said. “I often tell people, if the outside world could see how the group of men interacted, it would be just a tremendous inspiration on how we should treat everybody.”

Pierce and Prokop pointed out how this generation is more comfortable and equipped to handle LGBTQ+ inclusion issues. Everyone seems to know someone, be friends with someone, or be related to someone in the community.

“I just don’t think guys really care anymore,” Prokop said. “They might be nervous as they have this stereotype version of what a gay guy might look like, sound like, act like. Like me, coming to a team, they think I’ll act a certain way, look a certain way, but they’ll realize three minutes into talking to me that I’m not that.

“Hockey is part of me. It’s who I am. Guys totally forget (about me being gay) when I’m at the rink. They’re not afraid to ask questions. But other than that, it never really comes up. That’s how I wanted it to be. I wanted them to know, but we can all go out and play. I never wanted to be a distraction.”

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The NHL’s decisions around Pride jerseys and stick tape weren’t a distraction, Prokop said, but he has gotten frustrated about it.

He understood the issue over wearing sweaters during warmups — “jerseys weren’t really their choice” — but lamented that the fact the focus was on the handful of players who refused to wear them and not all the others who did. The NHL’s initial banning of Pride stick tape, then its reversal, was a whole other topic.

“To take away choices from players was really confusing,” Prokop said. “Some of them don’t really care. For some, it was near and dear to their heart. To take it away was mind-boggling. From the players’ side, the support was there. Zach Hyman talked about it, Travis Dermott. I like what they did. They didn’t make a big deal about it before — they just did it. Let fans see the rest, and it’ll take care of itself. There’s a massive amount of support from players in the NHL.”

What do the Pride tape and sweaters mean for someone in the LGBTQ+ community?

Prokop didn’t recall noticing them growing up going to Oilers games. He never got to see someone who was gay using Pride tape on the TV screen. He had to deal with it himself — “jump over those barriers without any help.” But Prokop continued pursuing his hockey career whereas “a lot of people don’t feel comfortable pursuing their career without that exposure, without feeling like they’re being seen.”

“I think with the Pride tape stuff, they were trying to show support for their older fans,” Prokop said of the NHL. “The fans that have been watching hockey for 40-50 years. That’s not how you grow the game. You want to get the younger generation, put these guys in the best situation to promote the game. Sometimes I don’t think the NHL does that the correct way. The Pride tape is one example.”

Prokop has been part of two Pride nights since he came out, one with the Edmonton Oil Kings and another with Seattle. The Oil Kings staff approached him after not having that event on their promotional calendar. They planned it in two weeks and it was a big hit, with around 8,000 fans in attendance.

“Some guys told me it was the most impactful game they’d been in during their career,” Prokop said. “They said they didn’t realize how many Queer fans they had. I don’t think they realize how much my community watches hockey, plays hockey and cares about hockey.

The Seattle Pride night was fan-driven, which made it unique. Thunderbirds fans noticed that other rival teams had a special night for Pride and made a push for their own, making bracelets and T-shirts. Prokop told teammates they didn’t have to wear the stick tape — he knows how superstitious hockey players are. They all wore some, for him.

“I always look at the perspective, the other side of Pride nights — why do you have them if no one on the team is gay?” Prokop said. “The point is that it’s for the fans. For me, it means a lot to play in them to show my community and be a representative on the ice.”

While education is important, Prokop said any real change in the NHL when it comes to inclusion will start with other players coming out. He’s not putting any timeline or pressure on that. He didn’t have one. But that’s when players in the league will see a different perspective, get more comfortable with it.

“Otherwise, it’s always going to be a story,” Prokop said. “I also can see why guys don’t want to come out. Especially in the NHL. They’ve been very successful, so why change? I kind of saw that from the perspective when the whole Pride jersey story came out. My phone was blowing up. I don’t think guys want to have to deal with that. There was a responsibility for me to talk about these topics. I don’t think guys want to do that. I can see it from that side, why they don’t want to come out.

“I don’t think anything is going to change unless someone else does. Someone else will step up. It’s only a matter of time. I thought there’d maybe be two, three of us by now. But it hasn’t happened. But I know there’s going to be someone else soon. It’s math. There’s what, 700 players in the league? There’s definitely a few more.”

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While there have been some derogatory comments coming from the stands on a few occasions, Prokop has been encouraged there have been none from opposing players.

“Zero,” he said.

Most of the feedback he’s received, even on social media, has been positive. And it’s not just the comments like Matthews’ that stick with him. Two high schoolers in Seattle, Kaitlin and Jo, reached out to him over Instagram. They are part of the LGBTQ+ community and were struggling.

“Like everyone, they just wanted someone to talk to,” Prokop said.

Part of Prokop’s pregame routine is usually to hang by the bench and listen to music. On many occasions, Kaitlin and Jo would come by and the three of them would just chat for 10, 12 minutes. They’re the fans that Prokop saw every game above the tunnel on his way to the dressing room. They’ve stayed in touch. Prokop even did a Zoom meeting with their high school class last month. “They have a special place in my heart,” he said.

When, and if, Prokop makes his NHL debut, he says he’ll have a special secret plan for them.

Whether Prokop lives his NHL dream remains to be seen. He’s praised the Predators for their support from the first time he did a group video call with the staff. Former NHLer Mark Borowiecki, now a development coach, has been someone Prokop has leaned on often, not only for on-ice advice but for help getting through things mentally.

Scott Nichol, the Predators’ assistant GM, likes Prokop’s potential.

“Big right-shot defensemen that can skate, move the puck. They don’t grow on trees,” he said. “He just needs to polish up his game in some areas in the defensive zone. He’s got the tools. He’s got the skating ability. It’s just patience and embrace the process.”

Prokop is grateful for his support group, from his parents, Al and Nicole, to his brother, Josh, and sister, Alanna. He’s kept in touch with Heather Lefebvre, who is a specialist in hockey engagement and alumni relations with the Oilers Entertainment Group. They talk almost every day. What sticks out to Lefebvre is how young Prokop was when he came out (19), and while he wears this “trailblazer” cap, he’s still standing alone.

“I think this generation is more ready for it than past generations, for sure,” Lefebvre said. “It says a lot to me that nobody else has come out in the year and a half since he has. He’s the only openly gay player under NHL contract, but he’s not the only gay player under NHL contract.

“That’s where I think we have work to do. Is it great that he’s been accepted and can do his thing? Yes. But he looks at the positives, which makes me really happy for him. But that doesn’t mean there’s no negative.”

Prokop takes the positives in his off-ice life, too. He lives with Alanna in the offseason back home in Edmonton. He’s found teammates to share in his hobbies, like golf (he plays 40 to 50 rounds a year). He loves to read, from biographies to sci-fi. He watches basketball more than hockey and has more than 25 jerseys. He cooks. He got into puzzles during the pandemic and is bullish about doing them on his own.

Prokop also feels comfortable getting out there on the dating scene and not having to hide it from teammates.

“Obviously, the lifestyle of a hockey player is tough for some people,” he said. “I’m trying to find the right person to connect with. I’m a softie, a romantic guy. I love love. I’m always on the lookout for that right person to spend the rest of my life with.”

Prokop doesn’t see the label of being the first openly gay player under NHL contract as a weight. It’s more of a responsibility. He has a platform and wants to use it. He’s realistic, “dreaming about winning the community service award more than the Norris Trophy.”

Making the AHL jump or someday the NHL jump won’t define him.

“One of my main goals when I came out is that if I could have an impact on one person outside of my family and friends in my lifetime, I’ve done my job,” he said. “I think I’ve done that and more. And I want to continue to do that.”