#I know I'll do better than last time simply by the fact I'm actually studying this time

[peaceblank]

I’m so sick and tired of studying for the MCAT and I still have 5 weeks left.

[dayseedrawz2]

Alright! I'm barely getting to work on this the day of, but hopefully, that won't be too big of a problem-

Anyway, I finally have something ready for you guys!! A showtime fic featuring My Human Caine AU! So you all get both some showtime fluff to go with lore!!

(Both Caine and Pomni's blogs are open and interactive, so you can ask them about what happened. I'll leave a link to them at the end of this)

Now, without further ado, here's the Fic...

♡Rebellion♡

Caine didn't believe he ever asked for much. All he wanted were answers. Answers to questions he'd been asking for as long as his "storage space" could remember.

So, of course, when time came around for this whole "Valentines" update, he's struck on what exactly he should do. All these human activities were confusing and hard to get right without having a clearer understanding of them. So all he could do was buy himself more time to think.

[DOWNLOADING ASSETS: 45%]

The gage should be going a bit faster if he wanted to keep up with the time it was due. Key word being if he wanted to. The only thing on his mind was to try and find time to study the humans! Maybe seek some more answers, discover some new ones! That is, of course, as long as a certain someone had no other plans for-

°○What're you doing, Caine?○°

"Oh! Bubble! You startled me!"

°○How can one be startled without being a human?○°

"Actually, you make a good point-"

°○You're not. Trick question.○°

"Then why did you-"

°○We are AI, They are Humans. Your job is to keep them sane unt-○°

"Keep em sane until they abstract or something, I got it!"

°○And don't let them find an exit-○°

"Or else I am out of a job, I know. Thanks bubble that'll be all for now!"

*Pop!*

Usually, he wouldn't be so passive towards Bubble, but there were bigger priorities to Caine than just doing all that his jobs required and calling it a day. More on his "artificial" mind than simply waltzing around and ringmaster-ing. The first one being where he should start...

Now, of course, he didn't have that much time until Bubble rebooted and found his way back to him. The last thing he wanted was to be schooled by-

"Gah! Caine?! What're you doing here!?"

Of course! The newbie! How could he forget? Surely she must have some recollection of this holiday!

"Good morning, Pomni! You're up early! Again..."

"Y-yeah... this is all still a lot to wake up to..."

[DOWNLOADING ASSETS: 50%]

"If... you don't mind me asking... what's this for..?"

"Why, I don't mind at all, dear! This is the loading thingy for the Valentines Day update!"

"V-valentines Day? Already? The days really are blending together now..."

Pomni started to panic a little bit. Had time really gone that long in the real world??

Caine, upon noticing, of course tried to calm her down.

"If it helps, it probably won't be ready until at least tomorrow... Witch reminds me! Would you be willing to help me out with this?"

"With what? This won't involve knives to the face, will it??"

"Of course not dear! I apologize for that! Again... But what I mean is how this holiday works??"

Pomni wasn't so sure she should trust him. The fact that he always had something to ask her, that the first thing he even told her about the place was that he had security everywhere in the form of Eyes that followed your every move, the fact that he always got seemingly nervous when it came to the metion of the exit...

"Why me?"

"Well, for one, you're the only one here at the moment and-"

"Why can't Bubble help you?"

"Well- he's-"

"How do I know you're not just keeping me from looking for an exit?-"

"Because I have to!"

The sudden outburst from Caine left Pomni a bit shook. Witch, I guess, was a good thing because she finally stopped to listen.

"D-do, you really..?"

"Well, I- can I answer this as we go? It's quite a bit to un pack."

"Sure..?"

"Well, then let's get to this!"

After a bit of back and forth of answering questions, even now, with a slightly better understanding, Caine was still confused.

"So what you're saying is that this is a holiday about the one emotion I hardly understand?!"

"Honestly, I don't think even we understand it completely."

"Is that so?"

"At least I think so..? But really, why did you ask me of everyone?"

Caine honestly didn't know himself. He had to pause before he could answer this.

"...I want to "learn. " I want to "feel." I want to "love." But there's a lot of things holding me back right now..."

"Like what..?"

"Well, for one, barely anyone will answer the questions I have, and of course, I hate to say this, but-"

°○Watcha guys up to?○°

"Gah!"

"BUBBLE! It's just you..."

°○What're you two talking about?○°

"Well- You see- we were-"

"-Oh, I was just rambling to Caine about the exit I saw the other day! You wouldn't happen to know about that, would you?? I knew you guys were hiding something!!"

It took him a second, but Caine was quick to catch on.

"Yeah! She wouldn't stop pestering me about it! Those "Digital Hallucinations" really must be going to her head!"

°○... Okay, boss! I'll leave you to it! I'm gonna get breakfast started!○°

"Alright, see you in a bit!"

"Well, I guess I should go get ready?"

"Of course! I'll meet you there!"

[DOWNLOADING ASSETS: 99%]

And... done! Finally! You made it!

As promised, here's Caine and Pomni's blogs!

@ask-the-real-cainetadc

@the-exitdoor-simp-tadc

Thanks again for reading this. It took me like 2 hours-

[yashirawr]

teru minamoto with the best friends to lovers trope

tbhk teru minamoto x gn!reader.

type: angst to fluff, headcannons, childhood best friends to lovers.

warnings: denial of feelings, teru feeling bad (i think maybe even a little ooc, i'll work on that too)

a/n: help, english isn't my first language so there's an awful grammar (also, lowercase intended) but i hope you'll be able to understand what i write <3 JAJDKAKD THIS WAS A MESS BUT I PROMISE I WILL DO BETTER NEXT TIME

ㅤ ⸝ㅤ ♡ as friends

teru was in constant denial.

he simply couldn't accept the fact that he liked, no, loved his best friend.

he had a lot of things to take care of: his family, his job, his studies and his reputation at all times.

but even so he couldn't help but think about how much he wanted to be near you when you weren't around.

he couldn't help but have this warm feeling in his chest whenever you two had any interaction. which was frequently.

you made him feel comfortable, but also awoke a million butterflies in his stomach.

he refused to accept it.

every moment spent together made him wish it last forever. he also wished to have more time to spend with you.

those silent wishes and all the overthinking at midnight was something he never experienced before, and he was quite mad about it.

why did you have to be so lovely?

still, he was aware of the situation. playing it cool, staring at you in the most discreet way possible.

he tried to avoid everything about you and distance himself hoping to kill those feelings he unfortunately had for you.

but it only lasted one week because it hurt too much, so he chose to leave everything as it was and find another solution that didn't involve losing you.

you of course noticed the constant change in his behavior but didn't want to ask because you knew that teru didn't like to talk about his feelings.

most of the time he let everything go away distracting himself by talking to you but right now it would simply make things worse.

the ‘confesion’ happened in the middle of a casual conversation of yours.

“look, i'm aware of how much you dislike talking about how you feel but you're worrying me, teru” you said suddenly, breaking the short silence that reigned minutes ago in the students council room.

“what are you talking about?” he turned his head towards you with a lightly confused expression, even though he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“one day you act bitter towards me and the other everything is fine,” you sighed, not because you were mad at him for not talking to you but because you didn't like the idea of something stressing him out. he had a lot of things to bear with, you knew it “i don't know what's happening and don't want to preassure, but i wanted to remind you that if anything i'm here for you.”

teru wanted to tell you to shut up, to stop making him fall for you even harder. you were the only person who noticed those details, and he hated how he also loved that part of you.

“i'm not actually the smartest, you know...?” he finally spoke with a voice tone that you weren't able to recognize, but it was somehow weak. defeated. you would never associate those words with teru “i can't believe the things i've been thinking about this past months”

“what were you thinking about?” you asked softly, getting closer to him. he avoided your question.

“i'm sure you already noticed that i can't be what you expect from me, nor what my family and everyone else expects from me” he sighed, looking at you with a somewhat distressed expression. but one that seemed to explain, and even mask, how he already accepted what he just said.

you knew him better than anyone else.

“what are you even talking about? what do you think that i expect from you?” it sounded a bit exasperated, and you scolded yourself internally for making so many questions instead of getting to the point “i love you, the only thing i expect from you is to accept that” you concluded, leaving silence after your words.

“that you love me” looking directly at your beautiful eyes, he repeated in almost a whisper. maybe trying to figure out if you really meant it, maybe trying to understand why.

“i love you” you said once again, knowing really well how much you did.

ㅤ ⸝ㅤ ♡ as lovers

you two, just as when you were friends, still didn't have too much time to spend together.

but when you did, you enjoyed and cherished every second of it.

making out, kisses and cuddles in the students council room.

(kicking akane to have some time alone JADJQJD ILY MY BOY)

study dates.

lots of study dates.

well, he would study and explain some things to you while you just sit on his lap and hug him without even listening.

eventually you'll be able to convince him to cuddle the rest of the afternoon.

tbh he's definitely a big spoon. he likes to feel that he's protecting you even at those moments.

but if he had a bad day, he knows that you'll let him be the little spoon.

being in your arms automatically makes him feel better and relaxed.

if he already felt calm talking to you, imagine cuddling you :(<3

also, the whole thing about his fangirls...

i mean at first they didn't notice anything since in school you just talked as always before becoming a couple.

but after some time they started to find it curious how you two would disappear at the same time, and to notice how much teru glanced your way.

some said you two were just friends, and that there was no need to attack.

a part of them did give you dirty looks.

the bad thing was them asking you for tips to get to teru, something that they already did, but now it was even more annoying because ofc you two were in a relationship.

you treated rather kindly most of them because they didn't know, so how could you blame them?

eventually and a few months into the relationship the most probably thing is that teru would already start showing you physical affection in public.

maybe holding your hand and kissing it, throwing an arm around your shoulders, giving you small kisses on your forehead as a goodbye or just because he wanted to.

teru would always protect you.

he knows he's so lucky to have you and you know you are too :(<3

basically, you're his weakness JANDJAJD.

[mondfahrt]

Questions About Art

In the last couple of weeks, you've probably seen a few twitter threads like these (or their re-posts on tumblr) about the "decline" of art and architecture. Now, these kinds of posts (and people like The Cultural Tutor especially) have a lot of fascist red flags that other people have pointed out much more eloquently than I ever could, but I'd like to give my own two cents about why this view on art, architecture and their history proposes a lot of problems but also some questions that are worth getting into.

Some of the problems I'll be talking about are directly from these twitter threads, some I saw in the comments of these threads, and some I've encountered in my daily life. I'm not saying these are all fascist! In fact, a lot could just be labelled as "things you learn about art history when you don't spend years studying it". This mindset and this kind of bias are, as you will see, very very old and there are reasons why we still struggle with them today.

I kind of want people to know about arguments I rarely see talked about in non-academic spaces. Diversify the public discourse, if you will. I know some of these things tend to get complicated but I've tried to keep it as simple as possible. But if you have any questions about any of this, please ask! I can talk about art all day every day.

Also, I'm not claiming to know everything. If nothing here seems to make sense to you, that's fine, too. I'd really like to know your opinion, though! And if I've made mistakes and you know better: Please tell me!

(I also really understand that engaging with these kinds of arguments is maybe kind of pointless. People will see and like and think what they will see and like and think. Art has always been devisive. But I love talking about art and I think I do have some perspective on this topic. And the discussion is kind of the point here. Also, if you read those threads on twitter, most comments are actually saying some good stuff. Not everything is mindblowingly wrong. I'm elaborating on some of it.)

Okay, let's get this thing going!

1. What is supreme?

There are several problems here: The choice of vocabulary is probably the least offensive. But this person presents their opinion (and it is simply that) as fact while assigning subjective values to the Pietá. What is extraordinary? What is beauty? Why is it surpreme? Is it because of the assumed value of marble, historically taken as a luxurious material when it isn't really any better than any other stone... Is in fact worse under certain circumstances because it really doesn't like getting wet... But I don't think this person wants to talk about that here. I think what they really mean is: It takes skill to make stone look like flesh or fabric.

Now, the problem with this is: It's a myth. Granted, we'll maybe have to leave Michelangelo out of it, because apparently he did do a lot of the work himself, but... a lot of artists did not. In fact, the artist as this unique genius working on his own, all by himself, is a narrative that's been pretty much established because of Michelangelo and the way art history has literally been built on top of his legacy. But most artists, before, during, and after Michelangelo's time, had whole workshops and teams of people working for and with them. We don't know a lot of medieval artists today because they didn't think it was important who had done the work. They shared their skills and time and resources to make and build and craft. Same goes for artists during the 17th century, because most of them still needed the help of craftspeople to make a bronze cast, for example. Sometimes we still can't decide if something is "by Leonardo da Vinci" or by one of his students or made in his workshop because sometimes an artist had an idea, drew a sketch and let other people do things like the background or details he didn't have the time for because he was busy inventing planes. And no one really cared because it was still from his workshop and having him paint the whole thing would've cost a lot more. Not only money but also time.

What we can see here, over time, is the development of the narrative of the artist as genius, and the devaluaziation of workshops and crafts in comparison to art.

2. What is an artist?

This is funny because idea, concept, and intellectual work in general are initially what seperated art and craft. The male artist as genius who creates something (the Pietá) out of nothing (a block of marble) is an important narrative! Saying that Jeff Koons' works are worse because he didn't do it himself is kind of ridiculous because it's nothing new. Artists have done this for centuries. And devaluing his work because it's only an idea/a concept is even funnier because that's one of the most important aspects of art in the early modern period.

For comparison: This is one of Jeff Koons' Balloon Dogs, mirror-polished stainless steel with transparent color coating (here in magenta), 121 x 143 x 45 inches (307.3 x 363.2 x 114.3 cm), made between 1994-2000.

Douglas Crimp says,

"The extraordinary status that has accrued to the work of art during the modern period is, in part, a consequence of the romantic myth of the artist as the most highly specialized, indeed unique producer. That this myth obscures the social division of labor was recognized by Minimal artists. Traditional sculpture's specialized craft and highly fetishized materials were opposed by Minimalism with the introduction of objects industrially fabricated of ordinary manufactured materials." (1)

Jeff Koons is not a Minimalist. Their works from the 1950s and 1960s looks more like this.

This is Carl Andre's 4 Square 4 Void, installation 2018, 12 unit hollow square on floor, 0.5 x 160 x 160 cm.

Minimalists like Andre intended to completely erase the hand of the artist by using materials that had to be very obviously made with machines. This is where another art myth comes in as well: "I could have done that." Yes, that's the point. Minimal art is supposed to let you reflect on the way we lift artists to higher standards. Why would you treat Andre's metal squares differently than the concrete floor their lying on? You're actually even invited to walk on these! To reflect the way you experience the room around you, with the artwork and your body in it... (The Minimalists had a whole thing going on relationships between art, space and viewer as a critique of the supposedly "neutral" gallery or museum space but that's a topic for another day.)

The Minimalists (Carl Andre, Sol LeWitt, Dan Flavin, Donald Judd...) also did these high finishes like Koons, very shiny surfaces that show no traces of brushes or chisels. You're not supposed to think these have been done by one person. And if they're not done by a person but by a machine, or by a whole group of people working these machines, then who is the artist? What is an artist? And can anyone be an artist?

3. Is it art if you (don't) need to explain it?

They also wanted to make art accessible. Since the kind of art the Minimalists did was pretty much completely new and unheard of in the 1960s, no one understood it, which meant that everyone started on the same level. You're just supposed to feel their art, its position in the room and in relation to your body. Everyone can do that. No academic advantage. Some critics were furious about that.

Of course, this concept falls apart a bit when you think about art historians and critics engaging much more with art in general, talking to artists and other historians, knowing about materials etc. You'll never get a completely even playing field, if you ask me, but at least the Minimalists tried to do something.

In contrast: The twitter post above claims that the Pietá needs no explanation or context. But that's not exactly true, is it? Sure, you can appreciate it without knowing anything about it. Pain like that translates well in any case, I think. But being at least culturally Christian puts you miles ahead of everyone else already. Knowing that that's the Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus, who's lying in her arms, dead... otherwise these two people could be lovers, or siblings, or friends. It's also placed in a church, you can't really get close to it, which could make it hard to even see that the man in the woman's arms is dead, at first glance he could just be unconscious, even sleeping. Not having this context doesn't make this work less impressive, on a skill-level, but it does add some things.

Context matters.

Which takes me to one point in the discussion on twitter that actually makes me angry.

4. What is context?

The OP says that they don't know what to think about these sculptures. Maybe you don't either, that's completely fair! Let me add some context:

On the left: Veronica Ryan's Custard Apple (Annonaceae), Breadfruit (Moraceae), and Soursop (Annonaceae), all from 2021. Now, I had to research this but it was fairly easy. I just used Google. The titles suggest that these are fruit. The fact that they are the UK's first public sculpture dedicated to the Windrush generation makes me think that they're probably culturally and historically important to these people specifically. People from the Caribbean, where the artist was born and where these fruits are common, who migrated to the UK.

I like this anecdote from an article in iNews on the day the sculpture was unveiled in London:

"On a wet October morning, shoppers wheeling trolleys nodded in recognition as they passed the work. A mother fielded questions from her young daughter, identifying the soursop for her and explaining what it was as they walked away. As Ryan posed for photographers, a young man sped past, pointed at the marble sculpture and shouted “sugar-apple!” - “That’s right!” the artist shouted back, beaming." (2)

I know what the Pietá is depicting, I've learned about it from growing up as a Christian and studying art history. I had to google what a soursop was, but other people have grown up with them and look at this sculpture, already knowing what it means.

Context matters.

I also think it's important to know that this is the first public sculpture in the UK by a Black woman. And I love that Ryan says she wants these sculptures of fruits to be a part of the community, to bring people together like food tends to do, to remind people of good things, to give them a place to sit or rest or climb on.

The Pietá sits high and mighty, untouchable, holy, and that's for a reason, too. But I like that sculpture like Ryan's, made from marble and bronze just like so many sculptures from the Renaissance, can also be like this, public and warm.

I don't have to understand everything about it. I have never eaten a sugar-apple, or a breadfruit. This is not art made for me. It does not need to be. But I can still find something in it, if I open my mind, do a bit of research, and don't expect everything to be spelled out for me.

Now, the sculpture on the right is a bit more complicated: It's Heather Phillipson's THE END, 2020, and it was placed in Trafalgar Square, London, on the so-called Fourth Plinth. The Fourth Plinth is a public art project intended to diversify the monuments in London. The other three plinths on Trafalgar Square all carry statues of white British men (two generals and one king). The fourth plinth was supposed to carry another general but the funds ran out and it remained empty until the 1990s, when it was decided that it would instead show different works of contemporary art temporarily, specifically commissioned for this place. Phillipson's work is supposed to look playful, joyful, even tasty, but with a darker twist. The drone on top of the whipped cream sculpture is recording a live feed of Trafalgar Square, a commentary on surveillance in public spaces, even - or especially - if those public spaces are places for people to come together and enjoy life and culture. The sculpture is not taking itself very seriously, just as it is poking fun at the seriousness of other (public) art, like the generals and kings surrounding it, or the paintings in the National Gallery behind it, but it's also political. Who does a public square belong to? Do we know who's watching us at any given moment? But also: Who are we watching? Everyone can watch the sculpture's live feed, all the people on the square, but also every statue of a dead white man there.

5. Do you need to be told this is art?

At this point, I do think OP is arguing in bad faith here. I'm not saying you have to like any of these artworks. Or that you have to understand them immediately, or get anything out of them. But they are so much more than just "shock factor". Actually, most of modern, postmodern and contemporary art is about so much more than shock factor, especially public sculptures. I've only talked about those here because the OP on twitter only talked about those but it's also my field of study. And I still needed to research a lot to write this, so I don't expect anyone to understand anything immediately. But when it comes to art, I urge people to keep an open mind. Most artworks are much more meaningful than you'd expect and I bet I could actually tell you a lot about Michelangelo's Pietá you didn't know that would change its interpretation to you.

Here are a few just for fun:

This is the only statue by Michelangelo with a signature. We're not sure why exactly that is. Because he saw this as a great work and was proud of himself? Or because he was only at the beginning of his career when he made it and needed to build a reputation?

Mary looks much too young in this to have an adult son. It's an anachronism that's maybe pointing towards her later ascension. Or towards some kind of "beautiful people are moral and good" metaphor that was very prominent during the Renaissance. Or maybe Michelangelo just didn't want to make an older woman.

This work is a masterpiece of composition: You don't even realise that Mary is much larger than Jesus because she's sitting and because her dress is so voluminous. But it's also only brilliant when you're looking at it from the front. It's placed in a church, in front of a wall, so you can't even see behind it. That means, Michelangelo didn't need to do a full piece that's amazing and interesting from all sides - which is, incidentally, a factor that becomes very popular during the Late Renaissance.

I think that last point is interesting because sculptures like those by Phillipson and Ryan do need to be interesting from all sides, since their placed in an open space. They need to do something with the space around them, not just with one wall in a church.

These sculptures are not random. Not even when you don't know what the artists wanted to do with them. If you get something else out of THE END or Custard Apple, that's fine! That's not random, that's just one way to look at art, it's interaction, it's dialogue.

6. What is the conceptual foundation of art?

We can disagree on this but I don't think the "conceptual foundation of modern art" is to question accepted standards of what art can be. (Setting aside that OP is most likely mixing up modern and contemporary art here.) There are hundreds of movements, styles, and theories in art. Andre, Koons, Phillipson and Ryan are just four artists out of thousands, and each one wants to do something different with their art. Yes, some of them want to question what art can be. Some want to question the assumed neutrality of the gallery. Some want us to think about our bodies in space. Some want to make political statements about surveillance. Some want to see their heritage represented in public.

Some of my favourite artists want to make you think about life and death and all the love we share in between. How we interact with people daily. Or how the world around us keeps moving and changing. Some want to make statements about gender and bodies, or the environment, or colonialism, or capitalism. Some want you to see all the shadows on a white canvas. Some just really like a certain shade of blue.

Art can be so many different things. I love Medieval art, and Renaissance art, and art from the Enlightenment... (I even have friends who study these periods in art history!) No work of art, no period in art history, is superior to another.

OP of the thread - as well as commenters like Mike Brook - assume that contemporary art is only one thing. They argue that idea and concept and meaning trump everything in contemporary art, that form has become meaningless. That's true for some artworks, concept art in particular, or art that can be reproduced again and again. Looking down at that art, criticizing it as meaningless or only interesting because of its shock factor, misses the point, though. And it is - and this is important - incredibly elitist.

7. What is art?

This is an argument we've had since the beginnings of art history - when one of Michelangelo's friends, Giorgio Vasari, published biographies of artists, likening them to nobles and popes and highlighting their unique skills in order to make them out to be geniuses. That meant, in turn, that you couldn't simply become an artist, but that you were born to be one.

Vasari had such an influence on art history - he's actually said to be the "father of art history" - that we still have to unravel these narratives today. Because when Vasari wrote these biographies, these stories, he only included the (in his opinion) greatest artists of all, with Michelangelo coming out on top. He's the reason we have an art historic canon, a set of artists who are considered important and great and worthy of study and admiration and remembrance. Of course, Vasari mostly included Italian artists because most art from north of the Alps was not as great. And anyone before Michelangelo couldn't be as great as Michelangelo because you needed to show progress, that art was moving forward, becoming better and better. Art made by women was always depicted as being less good than that made by men. And so on, and so forth...

The same narrative goes for understanding art. There are several instances throughout art history when people (mostly old white men) cried about the supposed "end of art". It happened with the Impressionists, with the Dadaists, with the Minimalists, with concept art and installation art and so on.

In 1967, art critic Michael Fried published an essay called "Art and Objecthood" in which he criticized Minimal art (especially in comparison to Modernist art) as being literal and theatrical. It is one of the most cited essays on contemporary art in recent decades. You might ask yourself, what about Carl Andre's metal plates on the floor could be theatrical? Literal can be understood: They are literally metal squares on the floor. They don't pretend to be anything else, like how Michelangelo's marble pretends to be Jesus, or how Ryan's bronze pretends to be fruit. In this way, they can be understood by everyone. You don't have to have read the Bible or been to the Caribbean to "understand" a metal square. You are simply supposed to experience your body in relation to it. That also means that the artwork speaks to every person differently and individually, because no one can experience art out of any body other than their own.

"Theatricality" to Fried means superficiality, deception, and emptiness of meaning. If a work of art doesn't claim to be anything else than what it is, it's superficial. If anyone can find different, individual meaning in a work of art, no one can really know what the artist wants to say, so it's deceptive. And if the artist doesn't care about universal meaning being found in their work, it must be meaningless.

Christa Noel Robbins says on Fried's essay:

In catering to each viewer in their turn, the ability of the work of art to transcend atomized taste and enter into something like a community of meaning making is foreclosed. Absent that community, Fried has long argued, a work of art has no real meaning; it is particularized, isolating the viewer in their own individuated field of experience. (3)

If a work of art doesn't transcend to give us some higher meaning, a meaning that's the same for everyone, is it art? Or is it an object?

That's basically what people who question any and all contemporary art, who ask "what is an artist?", have problems with. They don't want to see that a sculpture is just a block of marble, no matter the form. The form doesn't make it any less a block of marble, something very normal, and earthly, and not "supreme" at all. And not everyone will find (or needs to find) higher meaning in that block. Only if someone does find higher meaning in it, does it become art at all - Michelangelo's sculpture needs the viewer, just like the metal squares need the viewer to make them into art. Into more than objects. But this process is extremely subjective, for Michelangelo just as much as for Andre or Ryan.

"Anything can be art," complains The Cultural Tutor in another tweet. But that's not the real problem they have. The problem is: If anything can be art, and I don't like some of that art and I don't even think it's art, who's to say that Michelangelo's Pietá is art? If I can question contemporary art, isn't everything else in danger to be questioned as well?

(1) Douglas Crimp: "Serra's Public Sculpture", in: Rosalind Krauss (ed.): Richard Serra/Sculpture, New York 1986, pp. 40-56, p. 44. (2) Hettie Judah: "Veronica Ryan’s celebratory giant fruit are a lesson in how to do public sculpture well", in: iNews, 10/01/2021, URL: https://inews.co.uk/culture/arts/veronica-ryan-windrush-monument-fruit-sculpture-hackney-london-review-1227786. (3) Christa Noel Robinson: "The Sensibility of Michael Fried", in: Criticism 60:4 (2018), pp. 429-454, p. 432.

[kitsuvil]

"Weakness" - Coincidence?

☆

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"Cross the street, turn right, go straight, take another right, okay, I got it," I quitely recite while traversing the streets. I won't get lost. I admire the new buildings around the city along my trip, imagining how familiar they'll feel once I get used to living here. Once I take the last right, I spot someone that looks like Mona wearing a hoodie. It's absolutsly time to surprise her and get her back for all those jokes she's scared me with.

I get a bit closer, and immediately start running towards her and jump onto her back, tackling her with a hug. But when I hear a young male voice come from the person I just tackled, I freeze while still on his back. I slowly get my bearings and stand up, more embarassed than I've ever been. Even more than that one time I accidentally put a photo of Satoru Gojo nudes in my presentation and forgot about it and... Presented it.

"Hey, I'm really fucking sorry I thought you were my friend, this is so awkward," I address the person I just essentially harassed. "No worries, really, I think it was funny, maybe fate made you mistake me for your friend," He laughs.

"Are you sure? That must've scared you really bad,"

"Of course, here, let me see if I can make you feel any better," He chuckles and puts his hands to his mouth.

"Free hugs! Free hugs anyone! I'm giving free hugs!" He yells in the middle of a large crowd of people. "Why- Why would you ever do that, what are you doing?" I panic. He looks over while still beckoning people to come over, "You can't be the only one who feels and looks like a fool," he smiles.

Come to think of it... He looks pretty familiar?

"Hey, stop, it's fine, really, please get over here and don't make yourself look dumb just for me to feel better," I breathe a heavy sigh.

"I was kinda having fun, I haven't had good hugs in a while," He whines as I drag him towards the side of a store.

"You're incredibly attractive, of course it's going to be fun for you. Who doesn't want free hugs from a hot dude," I roll my eyes.

"I'm attractive?" He looks over and raises one of his eyebrows.

"...Yes? That is simply an objective fact," I cross my arms.

"Thank you nonetheless,"

"Anyways... I hate to say this, but I think I know you? Are you not that one crime youtuber? That does vlogs all the time?" I pop the question that's been bugging me.

"Oh! That you would be correct!" He perks up at the recongition, "How do you know me?"

"I'm actually majoring in criminal psychology at the college nearby, I just moved into the dorms because the apartments where I lived were becoming way too expensive."

"Really? For real? That's where I study for my criminology degree!" He laughs, "I knew it was fate when you jumped me, coincidences like that just don't exist."

"Right... Hey, will it be too much if I ask if we can hang out at the cafe across the street? I'd love to get to know you better," I hesitantly ask.

"Don't you have friends waiting for you?"

"They... They can wait, I know they'll understand. I'd never throw a once in a lifetime opportunity into the garbage like that, I'm meeting a new friend and it happens to be Shikanoin Heizou?"

"Interesting, alright I'm fine with that, I'll be paying though!" He starts heading towards the cafe.

I join in right behind him; as much as I'd like to complain... I did just move, I don't exactly have the funds to spend so casually.

taglist: @griseoo

ty for reading the first chapter! there's more to come, stick around if ur interested <3

summary; Shikanoin Heizou runs a popular crime and conspiracy analysis youtube channel. Y/N is taking college for a criminal psychology degree. What happens after Y/N is searching for their friends in the crowd of a new area that they just moved to, but when they run up to the person they expect to be their friend and wrap them in a tight hug… It happens to be Shikanoin Heizou himself?

[dykeotomy]

Hi!! Hope work isn't making you too tired. I'll answer to the last ask you answered later cause it is a lot to touch on and I need to organize my thoughts better for that one (that's actually so exciting tho!! I feel like I'm actually making progress and challenging my views)

I'm sorry you were exposed to porn at a young age (I think most people who partly grew up online have been exposed to it early on which is a whole problem of its own) and it actually infuriates me so much that most leftist I know associate the term with ultra-religious-right-wing propaganda cause there are legit cases of people who just can't have a healthy sex life because of their porn addiction. Thing is porn involving violent kinks has nothing to do with the actual practice because well porn is never accurate.

Most of the kinky people I know actually recognise porn as a violent industry and understand the harm its done to young people and as far as I'm aware they do notice very easily when someone only knows kinks through porn because its so different from actual kink specially when it comes to the more violent ones because normally there is care put into it you check on the other person etc. Porn does affect your perception of sex but isn't the birth of violent kinks and it isn't misogynistic for a straight coulple to enjoy them.

On a different but still related note I feel that it's very possible for violent kinks to be an extension of a degradation kink (examples include women with misogyny kinks: simply an extension of degradation. men w misogyny kinks are to be kicked in the head tho)

So i think cnc its in the same category as ddlg: better for someome to pretend to be harming someone than to actually harm an unsuspecting victim. I truly believe that rapists have some kind of paraphilia like pedophiles do which can't just be swiped under a rug and needs serious treatment with a professional and while they work on that and get the help they need cnc and ddlg are temporary solutions or maybe a way to make it easier to transition to having a normal sex life that doesnt involve harming unconsenting people.*

As for other violent kinks (I am not usually the perpetrator so take this with a grain of salt) I think its more about pleasing your partner. You know they get sexual gratification from certain actions and that is what the dominant person in the situation likes more than inflicting pain. From my point of view that's just a means to an end.

It is true that these kinks have that more dangerous side of your brain associating pain with pleasure, but you can manage that and people have different ways to combat that association.

*Expanding on cnc, ddlg and the kind: while I (and most people) find those kinks to be gross immoral and unhealthy among other adjectives its not something that you can be forced into (assuming your relationship is healthy) both parties have to be into it and hey as long as it helps them in their own ways and they are respectful about it I dont really care. We have to be critical of the things we like and the communities we are in but we also have to undersy that private is private, and if something works for a couple we shouldn't go around shaming them for doing something in private they both consent to. Do I think ddlg/cnc/etc is disgusting? Yes. Is it my business? No and I dont want it to be -L.A.

hi! dw about me, i love answering these :) take your time on answering the last one—and i feel the same way! this convo is really helping me articulate my views better and understand why i think the way i think

i brought up porn addiction as a related topic to violent kinks, not because i think porn is the cause of them. in fact, i think this proves the inherent misogyny behind violent kinks, because men were getting sexual gratification from violence long before pornhub existed. there have been studies done that show the link between porn use and lack of empathy/tendency towards violence/misogyny. i’ll link a couple below

x / x / i also have some stuff on this in my male violence, sex industry, and kink critical tags; i’ll tag them on this ask so u can click on them if you want

the fact that porn isn’t accurate is exactly the problem. people watch this stuff and form unhealthy expectations around it. that’s how we get a culture obsessed with plastic surgery and hair removal and degradation and hook up culture etc etc etc

i’m having trouble understanding how it isn’t misogynistic for a man to get horny over beating and degrading his partner—i don’t think it’s okay just because she “consents.” i don’t think these kinks can be separated from the society that we live in: the society that socializes men to be violent and women to be subservient

i don’t think anyone with a fetish/kink for rape or pedophilia should be having sex with ANYONE. i understand that i can’t control other’s actions and i guess it is better than them actually committing rape or pedophilia but i believe these two specific fetishes to be mental illnesses and they need professional help, not sex. exposure to CNC and DDLG will simply affirm their fetish and continue teaching their brain to associate rape and pedophilia with sexual gratification.

i find myself wanting to go down the “not my relationship not my business” lane but honestly i can’t ignore the cultural impact that these relationships have. especially with the internet, access to information (and misinformation) about cnc and ddlg is so wildly accessible that anyone could stumble upon it, including minors, survivors of SA, and abusers. the bottom line is that individual actions can’t be separated from the society they are performed in

looking forward to hearing from you again :)

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part VII

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1864.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

________

You wanted to slap yourself. What the hell was wrong with you today? Why did you tell Peter that?!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Completely baffled with you behavior, you were deeply ashamed, unable to look the guy in the eyes and wanting nothing but fall into the earth.

“Ah, I got it. It’s Steve, isn’t it?” All of a sudden, Peter let out an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes skywards and rubbing his neck. “Of course, who else would say such nonsense. Blackmail, really? Funny he didn’t call me a stalker or anything.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean it, I’m really-”

“It’s ok.” He closed the locker, slamming its door loudly and making you jump. “It’s not your fault. If I heard that from somebody, I’d be scared too.”

He spent a couple of seconds staring into the wall until he rubbed his neck again tiredly and huffed. It took him less than a minute to regain his composure, and you heard him murmuring, “What a freak.”

He didn't return to the corridor, heading to the sports hall for his PE class, instead moving to the bench in the locker room and motioning you to sit. Feeling terribly awkward, you hoped he wasn't going to do anything out of anger, even though he had every right to be upset at your stupid behavior.

"About what he said," Peter took a deep breath, "it's nothing like that. I don't dig up some nasty stuff in the web to blackmail people. I've never done it. The reason why Mr. I-am-better-than-you said that is because I've made him take me into his little bodyguard group when I heard him talking to Loki. You're nice, and I wanted to help. Of course, Steve started acting like I was some creep, so he refused, and I had to remind him that, technically, he had to report your issue to the administration, not play a hero. I said that if I go and tell the whole story to the dean, Steve's gonna be in trouble because he knew who thieves were and didn't report them."

It was a loud off your mind. Goodness. Rogers called this a blackmail? Really? Just because Peter pushed Steve into taking him into their group?

You were less and less sure Rogers was sane. You definitely had to be careful around him.

"I can't believe he called it a blackmail." You admitted quietly, and the guy sent you a tired smile. "Peter, I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid of me."

"Nah, don't worry. I'd freak out too if I didn't know the whole story."

You knew your apologies weren't enough, but you hoped Peter didn't take it to heart - if you can take such an accusation easily, that is. Shit, shit, shit, why did you believe everything these guys were saying? You didn't even know them in the first place! Why on Earth did you go asking them their opinions on others if all of them were biased, and every guy could twist the truth the way he liked? You shouldn't have let their words affect you that much.

"Whatever. At least now you know what Rogers is like." Peter sent you a grim smile and got up, picking his bright yellow sackpack from the floor. "Shit, I gotta go if I don't wanna be late. Let's meet in a library later, alright?"

"O-of course." You hurriedly stood up and left the lockers room after him, turning to the library: your Lit class was cancelled, so you decided to go study right away. At this time, the library was usually full, and you felt safe there.

Your thoughts were all about the guys again even when you were staring at your laptop, trying to focus on Excel numbers. Why did you feel like the atmosphere between them was so dense? If they were at such terms with each other, why did they group together to help you? What, because all of them loved you so much? It was ridiculous. There was something else to it, and you didn't know. You had a feeling no one was going to tell you the truth until you figured it all out by yourself.

Weird. It was all so weird. Steve's plan, their behavior, the relationships between them, and your nagging feeling they all were hiding something. Was it them who were actually following you?

The thought scared you to the point you started shivering. Oh shit.

"Hi there," the guy appeared behind your back so suddenly you almost jumped, looking at him wide-eyed, "sorry, did I startle you?"

"H-hi Jake! No, it's ok, I was just... studying." Both of you were talking in hushed voices, knowing the librarian would kick you out immediately if she heard some noise. "How are you?"

"I'm great, how're you?" You could hear concern in his voice: he was one of Thor's friends you met yesterday, and although you spoke briefly, Thor definitely told him more about you. "You look a bit worried."

"Oh, it's Math, I didn't really understand the topic, and we're having an exam on Monday... guess I'll be studying the whole weekend." You gave him your best smile to reassure you were totally ok, and the guy relaxed a little, smiling at you, too.

"I'm sure you'll pass. Thor said you're very smart."

What, he said that to all of them? Was he simply boasting about his girlfriend to his friends or was there something more to it?

"You're too kind. Thank you."

His smile grew wider, and he landed on the next seat to yours, resting his hands on the table. Apparently, there was something he wanted to talk to you about, and you grew uneasy.

"Listen, about these incidents... Thor told us all about it, so if you see any freaks following you around, you can message any of us, and we'll come right away." Looking at his serious expression, his bushy brows furrowed, you hoped he eas being sincere with you: you had enough with people you could no longer trust. "And also... that kid, if he's giving you troubles or anything, just let me know, and I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself"

Oh, he was talking about Peter, wasn't he? He had probably seen that silly photo. Wow, you though, Peter was totally right about Instagram: it was the best news source in the academy.

Thanking him for his concern, you laughed a little, convincing him there was nothing serious except for the theft and promising to tell him if anything weird would be going on. While it should have made you feel safer, in fact, you only grew more frustrated with this situation. You wanted to forget about these freaks and just spend you day like any normal student would, but everywhere you went people were staring at you as if you had a horn; one boyfriend or the other was always close to protect you from some unknown danger, and although you believed they tried to help, you hated the feeling they were hiding something from you. Why did you have to be going through all this? Wasn't it really better to drop off school, spend a year working and then apply to a better place?

Thinking of the faces your parents would make once you returned home, you realized it wasn't. This school with all those creeps wasn't worse than home that never felt like a safe place you wanted to come back to. Besides, all money you saved up until now were only good for buying food and things like that: you'd never afford to rent a decent place unless you found a well-paid job. It meant staying with your parents, and it wouldn't be much better than here, just different. If you wanted to drop off, you had to find a good place to stay.

Well, you could at least try, right?

When Peter met you in the library, the two of you no longer talked about anything important, simply studying together to prepare for the exams next week. It didn't feel off: from time to time you met his gaze, and the both of you smiled. You were thankful he didn’t talk about Steve or other guys or that weirdo in the lockers room.

Once you returned home, you went straight to bed, completely exhausted. Luckily, you did much more than yesterday, so you could rest now, but then you thought of Thor kissing you and bit down the pillow, angry at yourself. Why did you keep thinking of him right now?

______________

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like something was off: your body ached, your throat hurt, and your headache was only making it worse. Dammit, you caught a cold, probably. And that’s when it was finally the day to meet Steve, the guy you thought was a mastermind behind all these manipulations that were making you sick to the core. 

Anyway, it’s not like a mere cold would prevent you from doing everything you had planned. You left your bed and went to the bathroom, moving the dresser before again. 

Honestly, it felt terrible. It was definitely because of that flimsy dress you wore to school yesterday when the weather was becoming chilly. Argh. Watching your puffy eyes and swollen nose, you sneezed. Today you had to apply way more makeup to look decently.

Steve showed up earlier than either Thor or Peter: you had to skip your breakfast, hoping to buy something cheap in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He said with his everyday polite expression that soon shifted into a concerned one. “Are you alright?”

What, was it that bad? You did your absolute best to apply enough makeup and do your hair. Did you still look so sick?

“Good morning. Yes, I’m ok, just feeling a little sleepy.” You yawned on purpose, covering your mouth with your hand, and Steve’s face softened.

“Did you study all night?”

“Yep, exams are driving me a little crazy.”

“I understand. I also stayed late last night.”

Of course, the student council president studying all days long to be number one student in the academy. If you didn’t know of his twisted nature, you’d think he was the most typical nerd.

You spent most of the time either in silence or talking about studies, the academy, and everything related to it. Steve acted like a gentleman and a scholar, albeit a little too demonstratively. Walking with you as if he were a king of the place, he constantly replied to greetings of others, waved to his acquaintances and smiled. You felt so off you wanted to find Loki and walk with him: unlike Steve, he was considered unpleasant by the prevailing majority of students.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” America golden boy asked you for the last time, and you forced yourself to smile.

“Of course. Thanks for coming, see you later, Steve.”

As he finally left you in peace, you almost fell down into your chair, your fever only getting worse despite the fact you took some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 5)

[Donnie x fem reader]

sfw, chapt. 4 here

Just as Donnie had predicted, the night air was cold on his scales. Right upon leaving, Mikey brought up to Leo going in pairs this time, to cover more ground, he said. An extra thorough patrol. Donnie honestly couldn't make up his mind and so by then he was flying by the seat of his pants, not objecting to Mikey's plan, but also not agreeing. He doubted Leo would be convinced, anyway. They didn't do duo patrols that often. 

"I was thinking we could split up this time, you know, me and Donnie, you and Raph?" suggested Mikey, closing the manhole behind himself.

"I thought you liked it when we're all together," Leo commented. 

Donnie shot Mikey a look, trying to tell him to cool it, but he shrugged, "Come on, it'll be like some kind of training or...something," Mikey went behind Leo and shook his shoulders, "aren't you into that?"

Internally, Donnie facepalmed. Unless he actively tried to stop this, it was going to happen, wasn't it? One way or another, probably; it all depended on how Leo was feeling that night. Raph was indifferent. He didn't care whether they were all together or in pairs, just that he got to flex his combat skills some. If he could, he'd go out and do it on his own, even. 

Leo looked around, considering Mikey's suggestion. "Okay," he agreed, eventually. "You and Donnie take East, Raph and I will cover the usual route and then—" 

"No," Mikey interjected. Both Leo and Raph's brows furrowed as they stared at their brother. He motioned toward Donnie, "Me and Donnie can take that, you guys just go on ahead," he smiled. "You know I like checking out the skatepark!" 

"No skating," Leo said. 

"I'll just watch whoever's there, then." He pouted.

Raph snorted. "Yeah, make sure he actually pays attention, Donnie." 

"As usual," Donnie sighed, and looked at Leo. 

"Well, what do you think, Don?" 

The decision is up to me? 

Turns out it was his all along, but he wanted to feign innocence in saying that Mikey was the one to drag him through it. Easier to not take responsibility and let life happen at you rather than making a conscious effort, at times. 

"I guess we can do that," Donnie answered reluctantly. He could have said no. Why didn't he? In the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey beam, giving him a discreet thumbs up. 

"Alright, meet back here by four AM, and if either of you run into big trouble, call. We'll come," Leo said. "Same for us."

"Yeah, we'll holler for ya," added Raph dismissively. "And nah, a big dog doesn't count as trouble, Mikey." He sounded gruff, but in actuality, he was still chuckling to himself over that years later. After they got over being annoyed that he had called them from that far while they were on a supply run. Chased by a junkyard dog—some of their least favorite parts about visiting those places. 

"Hey, it was mean! And way fast!" Mikey protested as they parted ways, them taking to the East and red and blue the opposite way. 

As per course, Donnie and Mikey took their normal route, and his heart skipped a beat when they met the scene of their last run-in with criminals. Not because of them, no, but because of the familiar apartment building that was now more intimidating than he'd expected. They circled the area like they normally would have, but Mikey came to stop them on a roof just opposite of the complex, eyes searching each window. Obscured by the height of the building, he sat on the edge. 

Donnie didn't know what to do with himself. He stood back a good ten feet, somehow paranoid of being spotted even though he knew it was not possible from their angle in the complex. Mikey was comfortable, and weirdly at peace as he sat there quietly on the edge, assumed to be waiting for his brother to make a move. But Donnie was stuck in place. 

"What are you waiting for, D?" 

The sudden question broke him from his stillness. It was true; he didn't know what he was waiting for. 

"I—I don't know what you want me to do, what are you thinking?" Donnie asked in return, stepping back a little further as he noticed movement behind the curtains of a lit window. 

"Get your phone out and talk to her," Mikey told him, waving his hand at the apartments. "What did we come out here for if you aren't gonna make it right, bro? Do some smooth talk, tell her you're sorry and you wanna get to know her better…"

"This is absolutely a ridiculous plan," Donnie said, though as if his hands had thought of their own, they reached for his phone, and a moment later he was looking at the messages. Still nothing. Radio silence on both of their ends. How would he approach it? "I'm sorry I went from hot to cold so fast. Please talk to me again." Too strong. "Sorry, can we get a redo?" Too casual. "I'd like to apologise for being a jerk." Okay, that's just not good. Reconciling was going to be as difficult as he'd thought it would be. 

Mikey came over and looked at his phone screen and his brother floundering, thumbs stuttering across the keyboard, deleting the text, retyping it over and over again for perfection where he wasn't going to find any–

"I got this, let Love Doctor Mikey handle it," he said, taking the phone right from Donnie's hand. 

"You've never been in a relationship, not even talked to anyone, how would you—" 

Mikey shushed him. Donnie was going to snatch the phone away but he spun around, draping himself over his shoulder.  "Just let me work my magic, dude!"  

Donnie couldn't watch; he had to turn away. How sure he was that Mikey was going to say something uncalled for, something weird or bone-headed, and the wait was killing him. What if she didn't even respond? Was that better than doing damage control for Mikey's shenanigans? For someone usually decisive, he could not for the life of him make up his mind about what he wanted at that very instance. 

The phone vibrated. 

Mikey cheered. "Got her on the line, now you just gotta reel 'em in," he grinned, handing the phone back to Donnie. 

"Hey :/

I thought you wanted to stop?"

Mikey kept trying to lean over to catch a glimpse of the screen, but Donnie felt that it was a personal moment, so without skipping a beat, he activated the electric current in his staff and poked it behind him into his brother's plastron. 

"Fine," Mikey whined. He stepped in one last time, "But don't hold out on me here!" 

Trying to find an graceful way to patch this all up, Donnie replied: 

"I apologise for that, and I know you probably want an explanation, but it's hard to explain

Moment of weakness? 

I guess... 

Anyway. I'm not expecting you to suddenly be cool with it, if you don't want to talk to me I understand 

Sorry."

Mikey noticed Donnie's dismal expression and he mellowed out accordingly, standing close but not putting a hand on him, nor saying anything. He didn't watch the phone, but Donnie's face and slumped shoulders. He'd thought it would have been going better by now. 

"I won't lie, I'm still confused 

But if you're going through something, I'm right here for you

Don't worry about it. Just don't give me a spook like that again, I thought it was me  

lol 

Okay it's not funny but this is a little awkward" 

Donnie's heart sank reading that. He'd made her feel bad, even question herself over his problem. Never had he wanted to make her think it was her that drove him off. 

"No, no, it was never you 

Again, I can't really explain…

Is it okay if we just try this again? 

I understand if not."

"Jeez Bo, I already said it's alright 

I WANT to keep talking to you, you're cool

So let's forget about it, yeah? 

Friends again :) "

And like that, his heart took a leap. A smile slowly spread across his face, and without looking away from the screen, grabbed Mikey by the shell, pulling him toward. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. 

"You see it too?" he quirked, pointing at the apartment complex across the road. 

Donnie paused and looked over his shoulder at him, "What?" 

On one of the balconies sat a lone girl, on her phone, and if Mikey looked hard enough, he could see a smile. Definitely a smile. 

"Ah!" yelped Donnie quietly. He scurried back against the wall of the attached building behind him, as far as he could. 

"Dude! Come on, this is perfect!" Mikey nudged him, and when he didn't hop up onto his feet, dragged his brother near the edge of the roof. Donnie was boneless but unwilling, his mind stuck on the fact that she thought he was cool. Him, cool. Was he? She didn't know even the half of it. She didn't know he was a martial artist, technically a genius, and that he'd gone against some of the worst the city had to offer. And without that, she still thought he was cool, as an average guy. 

As average as what my circumstances will allow me to be. 

Feet dragging all the way, Donnie's stomach did a flip as they met the ledge, peering carefully over it in a crouch. They were prone, watching the girl who was completely unaware of their presence. He was, simply put, enraptured, for a second there, studying her features as much as he could from where they were. The details of her face were not distinct due to the distance, but he could tell she was both nothing like he'd imagined and so much more. For once, he didn't immediately question the validity of the situation; there was no "it could be a coincidence", or "it's too unlikely that she would be out just as they were". Not right away. But it hit him when Mikey spoke. 

"You're so lucky, D," he said wistfully. "Really." Head rested on his forearm, his gaze fell on not one thing, but the whole scene, a somber smile gracing him. He was excited, happy for his brother. But deep down, Donnie knew that though Mikey wasn't envious of him in a resentful way, it had to have stung to witness such a thing unfold for someone not himself. Their youngest had always craved connection the most. He looked away from the girl, "I wasn't gonna let you throw away an awesome chance, was I?"

Releasing a heavy breath, Donnie crawled away from the edge, but his eyes remained on that balcony. It was weird to watch someone who didn't know they were being watched. Not in that context. 

"I...guess I may be," Donnie responded. But it would only get more complicated from there. His phone vibrated, breaking his trance, and the message he found read:

"Anyways, with that out of the way, what are you doing?"

Just watching you from a roof, nothing much, Donnie thought. 

"Currently out enjoying the night" 

"Isn't it kinda cold?" 

"What about you?" 

He knew what he meant, because he was there watching her as a chilled breeze rolled through, but she told him she wasn't doing anything. Only relaxing and talking to him. 

It took him a few minutes to get his bearings. To know that he now had tangible evidence that she was a girl, an ordinary person, and that said person really thought he was cool. Worth the effort. He felt exceedingly difficult for not being able to give her a rightful explanation, but comforted by the fact that he wasn't being demanded of one. He felt light. Almost weightless, with Mikey next to him instead of his other cynical, skeptical brothers. For a moment, he had nothing to worry about. 

From across the roof, he could still see the yawn escape her mouth. Probably an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He didn't want her to stay up too late; it was already odd that she was up at such an hour, almost two AM, but glad nonetheless. 

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah

I think I'm gonna hit the hay

So goodnight, Bo

Talk to you later (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞" 

She got up, leaning on the railing which faced them. 

"I want to stay up with you but—"

Donnie sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up, just barely able to see from underneath the balcony above her. He snagged the strap on Mikey's shell and yanked him back with him away from the edge of the roof, taking cover behind the wall. 

"Shit," hissed Donnie, "do you think she saw us?" 

These shells, they make us look so big! 

"Relax, bro, even if she did, it was only a little bit. Besides, we could be anyone from this far, they don't have pigeon vision." 

"You mean 'eagle vision'?" 

"They're both birds!"

Donnie deadpanned and peeked over the wall. She'd gone in. Three minutes later, he hadn't gotten any texts yet about something weird on the rooftops, so he could finally relax, groaning lightly. "Too close," he breathed out, "Mikey, we need to go, Leo's going to notice we're not back in time if we don't hurry up and get the rest of this route done."

"Already on it," he whooped, vaulting onto the next roof.

As Donnie was scaling the wall of the attached building, he felt his phone vibrate, and curious, he checked it one last time before getting on his way.

"One question before I go

You ever see stuff you can't explain but even if you did you'd sound crazy?"

Oh, no.

"No, I don't."

Chapter 6

[rigelmejo]

i just want to say you always inspire me SO much to keep working on learning language. motivation is always an uphill struggle for me but seeing your dedication keeps me going and trying to shoot for more!

You motivate me!!!!!!!!!

Genuinely, whenever you share how you've studied or what you've done ToT I want to learn from what you did! I'm like "well Yue managed to do this! so maybe eventually I'll be able to too!"

Also. I don't know how much you get motivated similar to how I do but. I think sometimes for me the biggest challenge is how to make myself "just DO something" ToT

I tend to be such a perfectionist, and to study languages I absolutely kept self sabotaging myself because of that. In school classes, it didn't hurt me as much because teachers made me keep engaging with new material (but I had other issues in classes lol). But when I started studying on my own, it made me want to just re-read beginner materials (or whatever I was studying) over and over instead of engaging with new things to learn so I could actually improve. I had to set goals to do Actual things in the language, because when my goals were just 'go over X study materials' I'd just keep repeating them and refusing to move forward. Then when my goals were Actual things, I couldn't perfectly re-do them over and over to try and be perfect! Because I simply cannot be a perfect speaker, reader, listener, writer, for years. Even if I try to be a perfectionist - I'm not going to understand a text 100% at my level even if I look everything up, there's still nuance I won't get for years lol. Even if I try to perfectly master how to say X, I won't master pronunciation for a long while. So those goals got me to just... realize I needed to stop Being perfectionist and be happy with doing things 'good enough/understanding enough.' And then finally I stopped being perfectionist so much when going and engaging with reference materials - and just trying to read Through them, listen Through them, and then review later when I'm done as needed if I run into those aspects again while Doing things like reading/speaking etc and need some clarification.

I started making goals after that to "just go through X/try X steps" and not care if I understand everything or do steps perfect. Just getting myself to willingly DO them is the hard part. And if I do them, even imperfectly, I'll learn Something and make Some improvements anyway. Which is good enough for me.

So uh. That's probably not part of your motivation problem lol ToT. But if u happen to tend toward perfectionism too, maybe u relate somewhat.

Also! Your advice to 'do what you want most'!!! Again genuinely you don't know how much you end up motivating me!!! Last summer when I got back into japanese, I didn't really know how committed I was or my goals or how to motivate myself to keep trying when I'd spent 2.5 years learning barely anything and then had a long break. And because of you I went and was like screw it, I'll play what I've always wanted to play and understand in japanese! That's the ultimate goal I had wayyyyy back when I started! But it felt way too hard to be possible! And because of your advice I did end up trying to play, instead of waiting until I was "better" and "more prepared." It was hard! But it was also much closer to achievable than I had thought it was gonna be. You're advice really took me from "too worried I know too little to engage with any real japanese outside of learner materials" to "I can actually try manga! I can buy the Parasite Eve novel and maybe chip away at it with a dictionary! I can go play a game in japanese when I want and follow some of it!" To just actually Doing the things I was hoping to even Start to do, once upon a time.

also like. slightly related but. I love learning by doing. And the fact you did manage to learn and improve by playing video games and reading and looking some things up, figuring some things out from context. You succeeding showed me like... the way I tend to learn can actually work for some people. Because you know how it is when you look stuff up - some people will say it works but its 'inefficient' compared to some things (but another method isnt efficient for me if i wont do it lol), and other people will say 'its way too hard to dive into real materials so EARLY and make any progress'. Which. You and me are proof it is doable. You can be as prepared/unprepared as we were and still do okay and make progress. My point is just like. I definitely admire how you learned and since you succeeded I felt more like I could manage to do this too.

tldr: anyway please feel free to share whenever you're up to some study method! or working on things! or things you've done before! your progress is awesome and u motivate me a lot too! ♥♥♥

[khaleesiofalicante]

OH MY GOD! ITS HAPPENING! Its only the summary and I’m emo 😂 I should be studying for my exams, but I have tomorrow for that ;)

Ok, lets do this:

UDHWIJSHW THEY ARE SO CUTE FOR EACH OTHER I CANT-

"He preferred to hide his heart away. But he couldn’t hide David. He didn’t want to. David deserved to be seen." Like father like son. Both speeking poetry about their love ones. (and no, Idk which father I'm talking about 😂)

“I don’t think they are fake dating,” David hummed from the other end. “You don’t talk for hours every night if you are just fake dating.” (THANK YOU DAVID! SOMEONE THAT ITS NOT BLIND)

"They like doing chores. Let them do it. They fight demons all day and then come home and do chores. I feel like it’s their form of therapy. They need this.”“So, by not helping them, we are technically helping them?” Bapa had asked and Max had nodded with a grin. “Shadowhunters are weird.” “True dat,” Max had laughed. They were all weirdos. But Max loved them anyway. He loved his weird shadowhunters. (The domesticity lf this is killing me in a good way🥺)

“Will you on a date with me? Tomorrow?” Max asked then – because why the hell not. (Hell yeah Max. Go big or go home babe😎)

“This date is going to be the best first date in the history of first of dates.” In retrospect, he really shouldn’t have said that. (I'm already feeling his chaotic ass will do something like Magnus did, but lets keep hope)

"Maybe Lexi and Liv would probably enjoy a date – a fake date - in the arcade." Could I be more in love with both of them?? Is that physically possible?? 💙

Elyaas giving Max dating advice!! Lmaooo 😂😂

"His parents would not be pleased if they knew Max was summoning demons for relationship advice. But they had also encouraged Max to make friends with everyone regardless of their identity. So, technically this was their fault. They gave him very mixed messages."  YOU LIL SHIT. YOU ARE NOT WRONG THO...

FUCK. An attack??

You lil shit Max.

Yep, Rafael has to deal with it everyday 😂

OOMG YESS. THE ALIANCE RUNE!!

"So, when he got tired, he would simply fix the problem by eating. It was a win-win to be honest." I feel like I should say something, but tbh it makes sense

Ok, this fight is intense

Wait. Anjali is there???  What?

Oh ok, it wasn’t

“Say the thing!”Rafael groaned and raised his hands, the alliance rune lighting up.“I’m not just a shadowhunter,” Rafael said through gritted teeth. “I’m Magnus Bane’s son.” I'm dead 😂

THAT SCENE WAS EVERYTHING. LOVE THOSE TWO

“Well, demons are stupid,” Max pointed out. “Yeah, that makes sense,” Rafael said with a mouthful of food. “You are half demon after all.” “Asshole,” Max laughed and punched his brother.

“Text dad we are okay,” Rafael said, slowly recovering. “They will worry.”Max nodded and did that. (This just summ up sibling relationships so well *chef kiss*)

“It can be hard, Max. Bapak and dad…Sometimes I look at them and feel like I will never have what they have.” YUP. THEY HAVE SIBLINGS DYNAMIC. ALSO RAFAEL IS JUST 🥺🥺🥺

David got wounded???

Oh ok. False alarm.

Rafael sat down next to him and put Bapak’s head on his lap, gently massaging it.

“Are you okay?” dad knelt down next to his husband. “Just a little tired,” Bapak replied.A little tired. Max knew Bapak was fucking exhausted."  "Bapak never showed it. He never complained. Max wondered what else he hid away from everyone else." “Okay,” dad whispered and kissed his husband on the head. “Get some rest, my love.” Bapak nodded and closed his eyes as Rafael hummed something softly. (Well, now I'm crying 😭😭)

" His niece found an herbal medication that helps with the pain.” ANJALI!! I LOVE HER💙💙

"Dad finally smiled and went out to the balcony, phone in hand. He seemed to hang out in the balcony a lot lately" No no no. I dont like this. Babe find a better copying mechanism!!

"Bapak smiled then. A brilliant grin. The one dad probably fell in love with." jsyeihdiej I cant🥺💙

"Bapak sniffed when dad sat down next to him and gave him an odd look. But he didn’t say anything." Magnus tell him something. I dont like where this is going😭

“Does that mean Bapak is a capitalist?” Max asked. “Do not drag me into this!” Bapak protested and dad laughed at that" Ahh yess. Typical family discussions 😂

"David: Mr Herondale yelled “Yes! Two out of three!” (😂😂 I HONESTLY LAUGHED WAY TO HARD!!)

“Well, no! I don’t want drama. But I want you to be dramatic so I can tell you not to be dramatic!” I would like to say WHAT? but I honestly get it 😂

“Also, we all know you had an embarrassing crush on Uncle Jace growing up,” Rafael snickered. “And you definitely still have a crush on Uncle Jem.” Oh god 😂😂 but I mean... Who doesn't have a crush on Jem?

“Oh yeah?” Max demanded. “Well then let me explain your type. You are probably going to fall for someone who is like a combination of Aunt Izzy and Aunt Lily! Some femme fatale type who is a heartbreaker and looks like a supermodel and-” Boy got it right huh? 😂

“You two are dating?” dad demanded. “Since when? Who else knows about this? Why didn’t you tell us before? Were you dating when you were in London? Magnus, did you know about this?” “There you go!” Max yelled triumphantly. “That’s the dramatic reaction I was looking for. Thanks, dad!” lmaooo 😂😂

"And that’s how the next hour turned out to be the most painful and most embarrassing hour of his life." I. I have no words

“I’ll have you know this conversation utterly traumatized me. I demand financial compensation.” “Not happening,” dad said into his coffee, and Max groaned before walking back into his room. (THAT FAMILY 😂😂)

" I tried to hurt your father once.” OH no, the angst is coming

" He didn’t know about this. He knew about their story. Everyone did. The accords hall kiss. The fight in Edom. The changing of the law. Their love was legendary. Not this!" THIS IS BRINGING BACK SO MANY FLASHBACKS

“All I know is that I was terrified. I love your father. I love Magnus more than anything in the world. And I didn’t want to lose him. And I didn’t know what to do.” 😭😭 NOT AGAIN!!

"When you love someone so much, sometimes you do crazy things.” THIS

" Love had made a fool out of them. Love had made them blind." Yup. tsc: a summary

"When you love someone, you have to be honest with them" And THAT is character development!!

"They called it The Jem effect." I'm using this from now on 😂💙💙

"Uncle Jem was wearing a tank top and and ripped jeans." So its time for SIMP over Jem Carstairs? Okey then.

"In fact, he used to have a crush on both Tessa and Jem. It’s how he had found he was bisexual." Same here 😂

“MINA! I SWEAR TO LILITH I AM GOING TO GET YOU BACK FOR THIS!” OH MY GOD I LOVE MINA!!

“In my defense, I was busy!!” “Oooo, someone has been getting busy!” Mina WINKED. (You lil shit! I love her 💙)

He didn’t know he could blush!!!

" They had gone to hell and back for Roman. It wouldn’t have been possible if not for Catarina. She was, and always has been, a miracle worker." Again, I love my queen💙💙

“I believe in Mavid supremacy.” ME TOO

"There is something so queer about Ferris wheels!" Someone needed to say this

"They had their own space in the spiral fucking labyrinth. These fucking legends." I BELIEVE IN WARLOCK TEAM SUPREMACY

"But Ragnor had always had a soft spot for Rafael." 🥺🥺

I love my warlock squad so much I cant-

Ragnor is so done😂

“I don’t want to lose him,” Max said it out loud for the first time. “But you will, Max,” Catarina said gently. “Everyone loses people they love. Every day. It’s how life works.” (its to early to be crying)

“Yes, we do,” Ragnor replied. “But it also means we fall in love over and over. Century after century. It’s our blessing.” (these warlocks are just to perfect)

“And that love is going to last for a lifetime,” Tessa said softly. “Can you imagine that? Someone loving you for centuries. Someone remembering you for eternity. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” 🥺🥺

David deserved to be loved like that – endlessly and impossibly. (OK BUT THE PARALLEL)

Tessa should definetly write a guidebook

“Je t’aime à la folie,” Max said.David’s eyes widened. “Vraiment?“ "Je t’aime. Je t’aime de toute mon âme. Je t’aime pour toujours.” ( I literally screamed and woke up my sister, I just love them so much!!!)

"David smiled. The smile Max fell in love with" 🥺🥺

“I know I am not your forever and I am okay with that.” Max bit his lip. “Okay.” “But you are mine,” David said. “You know that, right?” (ksidjdldk its just all this was beautiful!)

“I got it all planned,” Max said – for someone who had no idea what he was going to do." (Me as I should be studying 😂)

" And you were just scared. You were just a kid." “I just…I just realized you might not have had that when you were growing up – that there might not have been people you could talk to about these things.” THAT!! LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!

"Max pulled him closer and kissed him again. Every kiss a promise. A promise to love. A promise to fight. A promise to survive" I would die for this two

OMG he took him to the Celestial Palace!! Thats so perfect and 🥺🥺

“Oh mon dieu! Ceci est incroyable! Il y a tellement de livres! Oh mon dieu! Je l'aime tellement!”💙💙 Idk how you manage to make me love David even more

“Of course he doesn’t hate you!” Max chuckled. “But he did say he will put your nerd ass in the silent city if you don’t bring me home by 11.” David blinked. “You’re joking, right?” “Of course,” Max grinned. His father had actually said that but there was no need to scary poor David any further. (😂😂 Imagine having the Consul as father-in-law, poor David)

“Yeah, not good with words my ass,” Exactly!! They say they are not good with words and procede to recite poetry of their love one??!!

Ughh I love this chapter so much and I loved how they deal with the inmortality thing! I just love when people comunicate and talk to each other! THATS A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP! And how they didn't repeat Alec and Magnus mistake. I just love it! *chef kiss*

Anyway, this was really long and it took to open notes to fullfill, so i'll just leave💙💙

Bro I just felt like I read the whole chapter again and I am feels. I AM FEELS SEND HELP. Not me catching feels over my own shit lmaooooo.

Thank you so much. I have some work to do and I was like meh and now I have some energy to do it lol. I hope you spend tomorrow studying! You better!! Good luck!

ps - I love you notice the parallels and references. It makes me lil heart go boop!

also why do I feel like y'all are eternally doing exams????

[bored-storyteller]

Okay, I humbly apologize. I had a bad time - and unfortunately it's not over 😩- but here's the second part with three other leaders. I know I know I know! Malleus is missing! I'll try to post Mal today too- tomorrow, it depends on where you are - I promise.

Please I know you love him so much but love me anyway 🥺

14- Dorm leaders x down!s/o pt.2

Kalim Al-Asim

· Kalim is magical and exhausting at the same time. Yes, s/o love him from the bottom of their hearts, but dealing with him in times of stress is exhausting.

· The young nobleman does not really know the stress, at least, for what s/o can see, and this leads him to overcome any worries. It's not that he doesn't want to see other people's problems, it's just that he can't think of them.

· S/o as the days go by they feel worse and worse. The head often hurts and tiredness brings them into a state of almost half asleep. If Kalim saw this he would be very worried about them, but their presence for him is a fact. He is convinced that if something went wrong s/o would tell him, right?

· But no. How could they say no to his requests? That is, actually there is not even time to refuse.

·  Jamil is worried. He sees what is going on and tries to marginalize the problems. S/o should rest, they could ask him for help - as if he wasn't already doing everything in the dormitory-. But s/o know that the vice leader is already very busy, burdening him with their study problems and their worries is not the case.

Having to deal with Kalim really means having almost never breath. Even his affection can sometimes be a problem.

Yes, s/o certainly love him, but three days before the start of the test session, the thing more than making them happy is shaking them.

They have studied practically nothing and really feel their strength failing. While everyone is studying carefully, they are struggling to finish their homework for the next day.

The nights for s/o are now nothing more than a staring at the ceiling in desperate search for information that does not exist in their head. And the lessons are so heavy in the morning that their hope of getting through the year is almost zero.

Sometimes the idea of dropping out of school even went through their mind. They would certainly be freer.

Right now, s/o they are hiding in the bedroom, surrounded by study books.

It doesn't matter how much they read and reread those words, their overfull mind wanders over their fears, not making them memorize anything.

There is no way they can overcome this. They curl up on the bed, clutching their knees to their chests and doing everything they can to keep from crying.

Suddenly the door swings open. Kalim comes in with his cheer, filling the room with his happy voice.

It seems that he is excited about something, but s/o can’t help but look at him with wide eyes without understanding.

His exclamations echo in their heads as if it were empty, breaking the delicate crystal walls.

"Stop!" They cry when even the last fragile column of their sanity is brought down.

"Stop!" They repeat, bringing their hands to their faces and collapsing supine on the bed.

"Stop it! I can't take it any more! If I continue like this I will go crazy!"

The arms cover the face wet with tears. They are not really shouting at Kalim.

He stops suddenly, a little frightened by that reaction.

What happened? Where did he go wrong this time?

When the silence weighs too much, they still speak: "I ... I need to get out of here, I... don't want to be in this school anymore. "

Kalim listens in silence for a few moments to their sobs, then slowly, shyly, sits beside them on the bed.

"No ..." he murmurs, "I will help you, whatever your problem is." His voice is that of an injured child, but his arms raise s/o to his chest, to hold them against him and protect them.

"Everything will pass, I promise you. But I can't be without you."

The fingers pass slowly through the hair of s/o while his crimson eyes scan the books around them.

Kalim's arms hold them desperately. Right, how could they leave him alone? In short, who would help Jamil then?

That thought makes them smile, and while s/o get up seated they give to the boy a simple and light "ok", and then they resume the study with a quieter mind.

Kalim no longer talks, but neither does he leave, he simply remains close to them a little to comfort them, a little for the fear that they will move away from him, until he ends up falling asleep on their lap.

Vil Schoenheit

· Here, another guy who made stress his life. Some type of stress. Obviously, he must meet expectations.

· This also applies to those around him, or rather, to those who are close to his heart. If he demands so much from someone, it means that he cares about them. In a sense, even his insult when it is constructive is flattering.

· But for an already stressed s/o, dealing with him is extremely anxiety-provoking. You have to be perfect, everything has to be in order, and for an already fragile mind, well, the step to break is not far away.

· Still, he bears a great deal of stress on his shoulders without showing it, but he doesn't notice that others can sometimes be overwhelmed, and his manners aren't exactly delicate when it comes to appearances.

·  S/o are almost afraid of him every time his eyes meet them. What will he say? What's wrong with them?

Yes, they know how important the smile is, but they can't do it. In the library they leaf through the book they hold in their hands with empty and dull eyes.

They don't have to look good, on the other hand disappointment for themselves keeps them up all night.

There is no way they can get through this period, not for how they are.

They sigh, placing the book on the shelves and giving up. They fold their arms on the table as they sit, and there they hide their tired faces.

S/o  would like to go into hibernation, everything would be easier. No commitment, no judging eye ...

"S/o, my dear." The firm voice of the Poemfiore leader makes itself heard. It is firm, severe even if placid.

What's up now? Oh sure. They are not sitting upright with their backs. Hair is probably a mess and their eyes have been ruined for days. They already know to suck, there is no need for him to say it. They already hate each other, and there is no need for him to see how ugly their sticky face is with tears.

S/o do not move, as if he were not there, they remain closed inside themselves, in such a state of surrender that not even Vil can grasp immediately. But he understands that something is wrong. It never happened that they ignored him.

 “S/o.” the name is repeated again, but this time it is accompanied by the delicate hand of the leader who touches the hair of s/o.

As soon as the fingertips touch the head, as if they were of fire, s/o spring back, scared as if they had a ferocious beast in front of them.

Vil stares at those eyes so full of fear. Afraid of him.

In their dark circles he sees all the suffering of those days, all the dozing sadness. And in that situation of desolation, they feared him as if he were their enemy, the one who wants to harm them.

"No… Please..."

A prayer comes out of their fragile lips as if he is ready to kill them. He's not sure if they're clear-headed... no, they seem to be in another world. A dark and lonely world.

Vil's white fingers caress s/o's chin. They do not retreat, but tremble as if they were blades.

"I won't hurt you. I'm just worried about you."

His words are clear, as always, but a little sweeter than usual. He patiently sits in front of them, without losing contact.

"You can tell me what troubles you."

Finally the gaze of s/o meets the beautiful eyes of the boy. Eyes so beautiful, admired, and at this moment sincere.

S/o they bend down again, resting their forehead on Vil's hand while holding it with theirs. There they cry, for once without the weight of the angry gaze, but only surrounded by affection, while Vil gently caresses their head.

Idia Shroud

·  Ok, how to say, this guy is made of stress.

· Idia fears the social relationship, people stress him, what is not his room and his computer stresses him. He is not an easy person to manage.

· S/o are practically elected. They are fortunate to be admitted to his. In short, they can remain curled up on his bed without him saying anything.

· Usually are s/o who take care of him, who try to support him and calm him down, but sometimes of course they are the ones who need support ... but well, Idia practically doesn't exist.

· It is not his fault, but even if he cares about s/o in a way that even he did not believe possible, he is not good at social relationships. Very often he will limit himself and stay next to them, still connected to the internet. They don't mind, usually.

But this time the boy's body isn't even close to them. He is far away, in the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the screens. Yes, they are not even totally sure that he is aware of their presence.

Ortho, to their disappointment, is not present.

S/o don't need to be there, but for some time now they have felt a lump in their throat that they can't swallow. They have failed a test, and there is no way to recover it, or so they believe.

The truth is that they are nothingness.

They have to study, but loneliness echoes in their head. Nobody wants them.

So they slipped from the leader of Ignihyde to find comfort. It would have been fine even if he had been silently beside them, but no, he was elsewhere. They had seen an excited light in his eyes when they arrived. Maybe chat with someone online? Of course, those friends are better than them.

A failure, a weight, that's s/o.

Small tears wet the already dimly lit page.

In the darkness in which they find themselves, they sink into the anxiety and fear that they have been holding inside for weeks.

That horrible feeling of emptiness that causes the brain to tilt.

Idia does not notice the sobs. S/o are hidden, curled up into a ball on the boy's bed. Nothing makes sense to them anymore. More they cry, more they lose consciousness of their surroundings, and everything disappears.

Idia is too caught up in his game. He does not really notice that s/o are not well.

Only when he turns enthusiastically to communicate something to them does he hear them.

Sobs are louder now, but they don't know it.

Heart breaks in Idia. How long have they been crying? Two hours will have passed since they arrived. Why didn't they speak?

Oh God, it's his fault ... he sucks with people so badly, and he always ends up hurting them.

Maybe they came to him because somehow they believed he made them feel good, didn't they?

He gets up from his chair, unsure of what to do. Embarrassed he approaches them.

God, they seem so fragile. Will he break them if he touches them?

Slowly, as if he were dealing with a kitten, he places his sweatshirt on them, and then, a little scared, he sits next to them.

They seem lost, s/o don't react.

Idia feels the butterflies in his stomach from agitation. Suddenly, it seems to him that the figure of s/o is fading away in the dark of the room. It's scary.

Shyly he stretches his arms around the small figure and carefully pulls them into his chest.

He feels their sobs freeze for a moment, almost frightened, and then finally the muscles relax, while they abandon themselves to him.

"Sorry, I'm a delusion..." They murmur, clinging to him.

So is this what they think?

"No ... you ... I ... find you beautiful ..."

He speaks shyly. He's not exactly that these words are what they need, but that's what he really thinks.

His cheek is warm against their head. Maybe he's blushing.

How can they not smile at this?

[linphd]

monoma x fem!reader | hateful sex [1/3]

neito monoma x reader

female reader

Neito and (Y/N) have been having hateful sex since their first year at U.A. But do they still hate each other ?

warning : smut, lemon, bit degradation cause it's neito

-> somnophilia, edging, cumshot, riding.

based on this discussion with @mhastories

this is gonna have a part two since we made two posts abt it and this is based on the first one

that's gonna be long anyway cause I have a lack of Neito smut and for once I'm really into a smut I'm writing lmao (2500 words)

They both could tell how it started. Neito had gotten on (Y/N)'s nerves once more, and this time she couldn't find anything else to do to piss him off. It was only them, in front of the dorms, since they had gotten into a fight and had landed in detention. He kept making fun of her, and right at the doors of the 1A dorms, he gave her a look that she couldn't stand. That little smile he had on most of the time, the one he had given everyone at the sports festival. The 'I'm better than you' smile. ''What are you gonna do about it, (L/N) ?'' He asked, before giggling.

The said girl thought, and then smiled. It actually scared Neito to see her smile like that. He only arched an eyebrow, his smile fading. And she kissed him. She even slipped her tongue in, as he gasped at the sudden movement. The boy's eyes only widened when he saw (Y/N)'s amused expression, but still, it was a competition. Everything was. So he deepened the kiss, actually getting into it and closing his eyes. He had kissed some random girls in middle school, but never it had felt this heated and special.

When she pulled away, she stared at him, as if she was waiting for something. ''What ? It felt great ?'' The blonde sang that sentence, his smile back. ''I don't know, you're the one blushing.'' (Y/N) replied. ''You're red too.'' He pointed out, poking her cheek, maybe to make her feel how warm her face was. ''Because I stopped breathing. Don't think I enjoyed that.'' She said, pushing his finger away.

Still, Neito chuckled, catching her attention as she was opening the front door. When she turned, he cupped her face with one hand and kissed her again, this time rather quickly. He was laughing when he pulled away, as she was more blushing than before. ''What the fuck are you even doing ?'' She asked, grabbing his wrist, but not really trying to push him.

''I'm continuing what you started. Strangely, it feels very exciting when we kiss. Maybe it's because I hate you so much.'' He said, caressing her cheek since he still had his thumb on it. They stared at each other for a whole minute, before silently agreeing to finish what they had started. You wouldn't think you would have sex -even less for your first time- with that one person you hate the most, but that's what happened with (Y/N) and Neito.

And if they kept it secret and weren't seeing each other that often during their first year, the two students actually gave up about being discreet once the second year started. People had started to notice they were insulting each other even more than usual, but still didn't mind being paired whenever 1A and 1B had to study, work or train together, during their first year at U.A. Actually, they were even addressing each other with their first names, which felt odd to their classmates.

However, there were rules that they had ; (Y/N) was never going to the boy's dorm, and he always had to go back to his own dorm whenever they were done with their business. And well, that second rule got broken one day where Neito stayed in (Y/N)'s bed. Since everyone had passed their exams, they had a party at the 1A building and they had managed to bring some alcohol to 'try'. And well, that didn't finish well for those two. Sure, the girl's classmates were sure something was going on between them, but they were still confused when they saw the blonde casually walking in their building as if it was his own. That's when they fully understood.

And since that moment the students became aware of Neito and (Y/N)'s relationship, they didn't try to hide it anymore. They weren't dating, no ; they hated each other too much for that. It was only about hateful sex. And believe me, the students really didn't want to know that much details about their relationship ; but Neito was a loud mouth and (Y/N) was simply loud.

Tonight wasn't an exception. Tenya and Izuku were just coming back from a night training, as it was the weekend, and they saw Neito opening their dorms' door. ''(Y/N) is already sleeping, you know.'' Izuku said, still embarrassed since he knew Neito wasn't coming only to play cards or watch a movie. ''No problem, I just need something I forgot in her room.'' He said, casually walking in the building, as the boys were settling in the living room to relax a bit. The blonde made his way to the girl's dorm, knowing she didn't lock the door tonight.

He simply stared at her, seeing her peaceful expression as she was sleeping. Still, he got in the bed, seeing that she had one leg risen to her stomach. He chuckled at the sight. He pulled down her pants and panties, and licked his fingers to lube them. As he started to play with her entrance and her clit, Neito could hear the girl breathing more and more heavily. He knew she wasn't going to be mad at him ; she had told him he could come and that she hadn't locked the door for him. He was a bit late, but he had her consent. And he knew how much she loved waking up to him groaning in her ear, his breath against her neck.

Once (Y/N) was wet enough, Neito managed to slip in one, and then two fingers. And when he felt she was spread enough, the blonde pushed his cock it, very slowly not to hurt her and wake her up because of the pain. Sure he was into that, but not when she was sleeping. When he was finally fully in, he started to pound into her, slow but still hard. He chuckled when he felt her wake up, and burst into laughter when he heard her gasp and moan instantly when she fully understood what was going on.

''I'm sorry I was a bit late, but I had some homework that were due to yesterday to do.'' He said, right next to her ear, making her hum loudly. Wanting him to change to a better angle, she got closer to him, grabbing his wrist when he wrapped his hand around her throat. He got faster as she was fully awoken and into it, chuckling when he felt her getting louder. He kissed the side of her face -wherever he could reach- and escaped a laughter when she released a particular loud moan. He unwrapped her throat and put his hand against her mouth instead, still giggling as he was trying to shush her.

''Your friends are sleeping, you don't want them to bring your moans up to a conversation again, right ? I already do that often enough.'' He said. But she didn't reply, and simply started to bite her lips to restrain her sounds. When (Y/N) started to shake, Neito knew he wasn't going to last. After a few more thrusts, he came, enjoying the long groan she left when she felt his cum spilling inside of her. They both knew they didn't have anything, as they had a lot of exams by being in UA and getting hurt often, so they knew it was still safe for them, despite not having condoms. (Y/N) was on the pill, anyway. However, the blonde pulled out, after kissing the girl's cheekbone. Actually, he almost bumped his teeth against it, only to hurt her a bit in the process. She simply whined, turning her head to look at him standing back up.

''Nah-ah, don't look at me like that. You humiliated me yesterday when we had to train, right ? Bad girls don't get to finish.'' He said, gesturing 'no' with his finger as he was done putting on his pants. (Y/N) only groaned, nuzzling her face in a pillow, before throwing another one at Neito's face. He giggled, before putting it back on her bed. ''See you tomorrow ! I promise that if you're a good girl I'll be very nice to you.'' He said, before winking and walking away, even though she couldn't see him. She was used to him teasing her like that ; she would often do it as well as a revenge. They hated each other, after all. They didn't expect less from one another.

       But actually, Neito had managed to be forgiven. 2A and 2B had a rescue training at the USJ, and he had walked to (Y/N). ''Are you pairing up with me cause else no one in my class will partner up with you ?'' She asked, a grin on her face. However, the fact that the blonde simply nodded made her feel a bit bad. ''If you weren't so mean, they wouldn't care being with you, you know. Sometimes you're likeable.'' She said, making him smile at her statement. Likeable, hm ? That didn't sound much like hatred. But, as he followed her lead the whole day, (Y/N) thought that this training was a great one, without any fight whatsoever.

          Neito released a particular loud groan when he came all over the girl's face. ''Likeable, hm ?'' He asked, seeing her stick her tongue out and staring at him, just the way he liked it. He had managed to sneak it without nobody noticing, since he knew (Y/N) didn't like quite much when people knew he was there. He cupped her face with one hand, his other caressing any part of her skin he could. ''I love that face ! You know I love it when you do that face !'' He said, pulling her closer to him and running a hand through his hair to push it back.

        ''I love you so much when you're all covered with my cum ! I love it !'' He said, giggling, his voice high. One could think Neito would pull up his hysterical face, with his creepy smile and his eyes widened, whenever he felt powerful like this. But actually, he was just wearing an arrogant smile, which was still better than anything. He kissed (Y/N) several times, and she enjoyed this moment to sit on his lap. ''You really are nice to me today, (Y/N) !'' He said, already holding her sides and caressing them with his thumbs. She only nodded, settling herself in a more comfortable position.

        That was in those moments that Neito was weak. He pulled the girl close to him, so close that her cheek was now resting against his shoulder and he was running his hand on her back, while his other was rubbing his own cock to get hard again. It wasn't going to be difficult. He could feel the cum he had left on the girl's face dripping on his own shoulder and collarbone, and seeing her covered like this could make him go from 0 to 100 real quick.

        They were silent. It was a peaceful moment where they could be relaxed and calm, and not rough with each other. That was weird how throughout time, they added some hugs to their hateful sex sessions. Kisses were obvious, most of the time they didn't mean anything. They were even fights for dominance between those two. But the blonde focused on something he said. ''You know I don't really love you, right ?'' He sang, making the girl nod and straighten up to look at him. ''It's just that I'm used to you being so ugly, so once you look beautiful with all my cum all over your face, I get really excited !'' He giggled, his usual smirk on.

          Well, it wasn't for long, since (Y/N) noticed he was hard enough for her to sit back on him, riding him. She took him all in one go, as if to shut him up, and that made him gasp very loudly, a little squeak escaping in the process. He looked at her, his smile now gone. ''Oh my God, I can feel it getting harder !'' The girl said, giggling as she was resting her hands on the boy's thighs. ''Be happy about it.'' He only replied, even though he didn't really need to add anything.

As she started to bounce on Neito, (Y/N) could feel the cum that was left on her face getting colder, and that was much less comfortable than when it had just be shot at her. Maybe she looked disturbed by it, since the blonde stopped her in her tracks, grabbing a towel they had prepared in advance to clean her face. Only their heavy breaths could be heard, at that moment. ''There is a movie night this weekend, right ?'' Neito asked, out of the blue.

The girl only nodded, helping him clean her face. ''I've prepared something for you already.'' He said, proud of himself as his cocky smile was back. But as usual, it wasn't for long as (Y/N) started to bounce back on him, making him bite his lower lip so he wouldn't make too much noise.

He loved (Y/N) being teased because of her loud moans, but it wasn't the same thing when he was the one being teased. As the blonde started to thrust his hips up to match her pace, the girl held him in place with one hand, still without forcing. Thus, he stopped naturally, just confused.

''Why ?'' He only asked, coughing on his own moans now that she was going in a rougher pace. ''Funnier.'' She only replied, out of breath, making the blonde smile and grab and breast, since he couldn't match her. However, as he felt her getting more and more excited, he decided to still had some friction to her clit. She had been nice.

However, as she felt his length twitch inside of her, (Y/N) stayed up, going very slow, resting at his tip only. When she almost stopped, she smiled, bending over the blonde. He gasped, out of breath. ''No, no, please please please, don't stop now !'' He said. He sounded so desperate. ''You're such a sub.'' She replied, joking. But with one hard thrust against him, she made him cum immediately. Surely the fact that she had almost stopped helped.

Feeling his hot seed being spilled inside of her, and his fingers still adding some friction to her lower parts since he was trembling from his own orgasm, (Y/N) came right after. She held his chest to catch her breath, as he was now laying, his back against the mattress. He couldn't stay sat anymore. Once they were both breathing in a regular way again, Neito spoke up, caressing the girl's arm's soft skin with his hand. Still, he was looking at the ceiling, focused on a random point.

''Can I stay here tonight ? I'm lazy. Nobody's shocked by my presence anymore, anyway.'' (Y/N) only rolled her eyes before standing up, putting her pyjamas on after cleaning herself. ''Yeah, sure.'' Well, that was better than usual. She was addicted to the 'yeah, whatever'. And here, she had said 'sure'. That made the blonde laugh, his hysterical face immediately showing up.

''AHAH ! You said 'sure' ! You like me ! You want me to stay !'' He was only replied by a pillow being thrown at his face. It lowkey hurt. But he didn't mind, she was going to pay during the movie night, anyway.

wow okay part 2 will include : spit, cockwarming, public sex lowkey and some temperature play yeay

tagging @heroprose cause I saw your comment 😗

[etlunainmorte]

"Oh, my!"

V's eyes widened and his protective instincts kicked in as he saw Lady just bump into you. On the other hand, you didn't even notice it when the woman who looked like Audrey Hepburn suddenly, and out of the blue, appeared just like that, and you totally blamed it on your lack of focus.

"Oh, how silly of me!" Lady apologized with a smile as she helped you on your feet.

"It's alright. I wasn't paying attention. I - "

"Jive." Lady whispered to you the moment she leaned in closer to your ear.

"Sorry?"

"That's the next dance." Lady went on, surveying the whole room at the same time with her sharp eyes. Probably on the lookout for her sly partner, as well. But, this only proved she's even more sly than Lancaster, himself. "And Fleminger is absolutely fond of Jive. So, make it count."

"Why are you doing this? Aren't we supposed to be enemies?"

"Are we?" Lady answered, and with a wink, she waved goodbye and made her way towards Lancaster, who was currently being pampered by Fleminger's older guests.

So, Jive,... is Fleminger's favorite dance,...

Just like,... !

Wait, was that the reason she - ?

"My dear, are you alright?" You heard V ask you, bringing you back from your own reverie to reality.

Looking up at him with renewed determination and keeping the little facts you've just stitched together for your own ruminations later, you answered, "Yes, I'm,... super!" Drumming your chin with your fingers, you smiled as a wild and very sudden idea just came into your mind. You were one hundred percent sure that your grandmother would faint if she finds out about this plan of yours but, you might as well make this once in a lifetime gamble worth it, right? Looking up once more at your partner, you laid your hand on his arm and said, "I'm just gonna,... fix something."

And to this, you saw how V's eyebrows furrow in utter confusion. "P - pardon? Is everything alright?"

"I'll be right back, I promise." You told him with a reassuring smile.

Slightly running towards the powder room, your eyes quickly surveyed what the other Queen competitors were wearing. And if Lady was, indeed, correct, you assumed that all of them would have a really hard time moving with those voluminous skirts of theirs.

"Ugh. Fleminger, you are such a huge sadist." You thought out loud as you opened the door to the powder room, which was luckily unoccupied, and looked at yourself in the mirror. Giving your precious vintage gown one last look of pity like it was a criminal on the verge of execution, you grabbed the skirt and started tearing it, the sound of ripping fabric piercing your sensitive ears and making you feel sorry for your great grandmother, who previously owned it. With a huge sigh and a spark of inspiration, you, then, reached up to your hair and pulled the pins that kept it secure, letting the (H/C) tresses tumble in waves at your back.

After making sure that the ripped fabric was disposed in the proper place, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror. "Not bad, actually." You told yourself as you made your way back to your partner. Ignoring the wide variety of comments by the guests who saw you, you took a deep breath and exclaimed, "Told you I'll be right back."

V turned around, and his initial expression of relief upon knowing that you're well turned quickly into that of complete shock when his wide green eyes roamed on your loose hair down to your bare legs. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the poet. Almost.

"(Y/N), dear, I don't think that's - !" V stuttered in distress, wanting to blurt out the word inappropriate as gently as he could.

"Trust me, V." You reassured him as you smiled confidently at him. Yes, you don't quite trust Lady. But, her words earlier,...

There was no way in hell that she would lie to you! No fricking way!

You looked up at the upper boxes and noticed Fleminger excitedly leaning in closer to his seat the moment the musicians picked up their instruments. What's more, you also noticed that his eyes landed on yours.

Taking a deep breath and carelessly brushing a wayward lock off your face, you spread your arms wide with much confidence and waited for V to take the lead.

His heart pounding wildly, a small bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, and his eyes wide with anticipation, V finally realized what you were planning to do. Your important, non - verbal message seemingly received and well - noted by the wise poet, you let V take your hands. With one last nod to your partner as soon as the music began, you left everything to your actual skills, your stamina, and your trust towards him.

Together, you'll see this one dance through.

And one step in, you knew. You both knew. There's still a chance to turn this whole situation around to your favor.

***

🌸 Three Wishes 🌸

***

XIV

***

Wooh!

So, you're still thinking of me,

Just like I know you should.

I cannot give you everything, you know I wish I could.

I'm so high at the moment.

I'm so caught up in this.

Yeah, we're just young, dumb and broke.

But we still got love to give.

Christopher grimaced at the way the audience was seemingly entranced, not by him and his partner, but by something else. Their excitement felt different from before during the first three dances where he simply dominated the rest of the dancers with ease and without so much as a single effort. And when he made one wrong decision to turn away from his beautiful partner and see for himself just what these ignorant people were cheering for now, he realized. He finally realized, and because of that, he lost his balance for the first time that evening.

It was you. And your lover.

Such vibrant moves! Such,... perfectly coordinated steps! Such,... powerful connection! And chemistry!

"What,... in the actual fuck?!" Christopher blurted out when he saw you and V wowing the crowd with your quick Jive kicks and flicks. And what's more,...

Since when was V able to move like that?!

That smile on his face,...

He seemed to enjoy the Jive too much! The way he's giving it his all and showing off his flashy moves at the same time,...

First verse in and you're already giving it your all?! Thought the evil doctor as he turned his attention back to Lady to try and outshine your routine. Are you really that desperate to win against me?!

"We'll see about that!" Christopher screamed as he forced Lady to do the American Spin, making the woman almost stumble to her feet.

I'll win this game! Christopher thought as he sadistically led Lady. The flashier the moves, the better! I'll become King and make you pay for humiliating me!

While we're young, dumb,

Young, young dumb and broke.

Young, dumb.

Young, young, dumb, and broke.

Young, dumb.

Young, young, dumb, and broke.

Young, dumb, broke high school kids.

Yadadadadadadada

Yadadadadadada

Yadadadadadadada

Young, dumb, broke high school kids.

Adelaide threw an infuriated look at the host of this wretched party, who was watching the show from that lofty upper box. And the man seemed to be massively enjoying the show! And at what expense? The women tripping on their skirts as they try to keep up with the brutal pace of the Jive? The men covering up their partners' mistakes by making unnecessary moves?

Her grandchild ripping her skirt and letting her hair loose wildly like that?!

"Ugh!" Adelaide exclaimed in utter disgust as she observed the man. "You never change your ways, Flanagan!"

We have so much in common.

We argue all the time.

You always say I'm wrong, but,

I'm pretty sure I'm right.

What's fun about commitment?

When we have our life to live?

Yeah, we're just young, dumb, and broke.

But we still got love to give.

While we're young, dumb,

Young, young dumb and broke.

Young, dumb.

Young, young, dumb, and broke.

Young, dumb.

Young, young, dumb, and broke.

Young, dumb, broke high school kids.

You felt yourself so energized with that yadada that the women were singing. Their overwhelming energy and eagerness to support their lead singer gave you even more motivation to support your own leader, who was surprisingly very good at this dance!

As he led you to the mooch right after that little hip bump, V couldn't help but be amazed at what you have shown so far. Nico did say that you can dance the Jive but, he never really expected you to be this good, that he almost wondered where you pitched in those extra dance lessons in between your music studies. What's even more, you sure knew how to follow his lead and still look graceful doing it. And that was a vast understatement. 

Seeing you enjoy this wonderful dance with him made him enjoy the entire dance, as well. And as long as you're happy, he's happy.

And that was the only thing he wished for.

For you to be happy.

With him.

As the song came to a close, you made one last effort to make a graceful bow, hoping to still look decent after being sorely beaten by Christopher Lancaster and his stunning partner. Taking hold of V's hand, you looked up at him and gave him that smile of yours that never failed to make him feel warm.

"Thank you, V." You simply told him.

The man smiled back at you but, a bit of confusion was still present in his facial expression. The poor poet honestly thought that he did nothing so special and that he didn’t deserve your gratitude. "It's always a pleasure." He answered regardless.

You two were about to step out of the massive ballroom when you noticed some people cheering wildly despite the dance being over. And this made the others cheer, as well.

But, why?

"Bravo!" A man dressed as a general cheered at the top of his lungs.

"Encore!" A woman, who was dressed as Marie Antoinette, added.

"Elvis!" Some group of young women dressed like the Spice Girls cheered in unison. "ELVIS! KING ELVIS!"

"Elvis?" You muttered in question as your eyes met with V's. "They're cheering for you!”

"I don't understand." V answered, his eyebrows knitted, too many questions going on in his mind. "We barely did anything,... "

"MY QUEEN!" Another man, who was dressed as an Italian painter, called. "MY QUEEN!" And his attention was totally directed at you. Not at Lady, not at Trish. You.

"QUEEN!" Some of the men started cheering, as well.

"QUEEN! QUEEN! QUEEN!"

"They were calling for you!" Trish, who was standing next to you, happily told you, shaking you a bit to keep you focused.

Dante, who was only ever so proud of V, patted the poet on the shoulder ( a bit too much ), and beamed at him. "The floor is yours, Mr. Poetry!"

"IMPOSSIBLE!" Christopher, who was watching the incredible scene unfold right before his very own eyes, murmured, unable to believe that you and V just stole his thunder right under his nose with just a simple dance.

HOW CAN THIS BE?!

"It looks like we have a winner." Fleminger declared as he gestured for his musicians to do the much requested encore. The leader nodded and gestured for the singers to have another go at it. And when that Jive music started playing once more, the other couples left the ball room to make room for you and V, all of them acknowledging your clear and clean victory.

Well, except Christopher, of course.

"Hey," The evil doctor called after Lady when he saw her going towards Dante and Trish. "HEY! WE'RE NOT DONE YET!"

"Are we?" Lady responded with much sass as she finally left her partner to cling onto Dante instead.

"Hey, babe!" The tall Devil Hunter, who was only too grateful to have two beautiful women by his side, greeted with much gusto. "Looking sharp as always!"

"Leaving your partner so soon?" Trish teased, an evil smirk fully and intentionally directed at Lady.

And to this, Lady just giggled and waved her hand. "That man needs a babysitter, not a partner. He's just too old to be grumbling like that. Besides, I’m done collecting his handsome payment for being his partner for the evening.”

"Whatever you say,..."

"May I have the honor of this dance, my lady?" V asked you with a proud smile as he held out his hand to you.

"It would be such an honor." You answered happily and graciously as you took his hand.

My name is Olly, nice to meet you can I tell you, baby?

Look around there's a whole lot of pretty ladies.

But not like you, you shine so bright, yeah.

I was wondering if you and me could spend a minute?

On the floor up and close getting lost in it?

I won't give up without a fight.

I just wanna, oh baby!

I just want you to dance with me tonight!

So come on, oh baby!

I just want you to dance with me tonight!

We're getting sweaty, hot and heavy in the crowd now.

Loosen up and let you hands go down, down.

Go with it girl, yeah just close your eyes, yeah!

I feel the music moving through your body.

Looking at you I can tell you want me.

Don't stop keep moving till the morning light, yeah!

When I saw you there,

Sitting all alone in the dark,

Acting like you didn't have a care.

I knew right then, you'd be mine.

We'd be dancing the whole damn night, like,

Oh baby, I just want you to dance with me tonight!

So come on, oh baby!

I just want you to dance with me tonight!

How can two people have so much fun dancing so energetically together like this? How can these two not mind the fatigue and stress of this crowded and heated place? How can these two lovers have all the fun in the world as if no one else existed but them?

You would never know the answer.

All you knew was that you were here with the person who made you smile. The only person who healed your broken heart.

The one and only man who made you so happy like this that you forgot all of your troubles.

And you wanted to be happy with him, not only during these mooches, these flicks and kicks, these American spins, or these simple chasses.

You wanted to be happy with him, and only him, even after this Jive.

You wanted to be happy with V. Always.

And not only you. Nico and Nero, who apparently just returned during your encore performance, were both cheering for you. As well as your stubborn but loving grandmother, who was honestly sticking out like sore thumb among the well - dressed crowd with her non - vintage attire comprised of a bright purple coat, a bright pink beret, and a pair of little blue pumps. Oh, yes, she looked so proud, and she should be! After all, she spent a huge amount of time zealously and passionately teaching you the Jive in between your piano lessons when you were just a little girl. And you kind of just figured out why after all those years of harsh, grueling footwork training!

You were on your way to your loved ones after the music changed to disco for everyone to join in when Christopher, who just appeared out of nowhere, grabbed your arm and forced you to face him.

"What did you do?" The evil doctor questioned, positively fuming with anger after being humiliated. "You,... FUCKING BITCH! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!"

Finally having enough of Christopher's bullying and abuse, V raised his hand in an almost blind rage, ready to snap his fingers and bring chaos down unto his sorry ass when Nico interrupted by grabbing his arm.

"Ah, ah, ah! Ya haven't met our friend, yet!" Nico warned as she gave V a threatening look and forced his arm down. Gesturing for Nero to come forward, all of you watched, in utter shock and horror, as the young Devil Hunter dragged a shady looking man forward, making Christopher's veins pop up from his already red forehead.

"Who is this man?" You questioned as you uncomfortably watched Nero manhandle the poor, Kevin Bacon -  wannabe guy.

"His name is Salvador!" Nero answered with a vicious smile as he crushed the man with his muscular hug, seemingly hurting him more than introducing him. "I believe he is a friend of Dr. Lancaster here."

"Is,... that so?" V asked, his eyes dangerously narrowed and his patience already snapping like a twig.

"Yeah." Nico replied. "And check this out!" She exclaimed excitedly, taking out Sparda's ripped set of vintage clothing from her backpack. "He has this all along!"

"What's the meaning of all this?" You questioned, alarmed after seeing V's infuriated face as he glanced at the fabric in Nico's hands.

"BOSS, TELL THEM THE TRUTH!" Salvador pleaded, visibly suffering from Nero's painful hold. "TELL THEM!"

"I - I,... DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT - !" Christopher yelled, feeling hopelessly cornered, as he tried to get away from you once and for all. Unfortunately for him, Dante, who sensed all this unease and left the dancefloor for a while to come to your rescue, was already standing behind him, and the moment he turned away, he bumped against the Legendary Devil Hunter's rock hard chest, making him stumble on the ground ungracefully.

"Hey, is there something wrong here?" Dante asked good - naturedly, trying not to escalate the situation to prevent it from getting worse.

"He stole father's things." V answered monotonously, his enraged eyes still on Christopher. "And made an enemy of Sparda by tormenting (Y/N)."

"Ah, is that so?!" Dante, whose eyebrows began twitching the moment he heard the word torment, said as he began cracking his knuckles, the sound of his popping joints frightening poor Lancaster and Salvador beyond their own wits.

"Oh, please, you're being too harsh on the poor man!" You interrupted with a smile, startling everyone, most especially V.

"But, dear, this man hurt you - !" V argued but he was cut off when you helped Christopher on his feet 

"Thank you!" The doctor cried as he graciously took your hands. "Thank you so much, (Y/N)! I' am very much - !"

"FUCK YOU!" The crisp and horrible curse escaped your mouth as you let out a powerful right hook that connected straight to Lancaster's cheek, feeling his head jerk deliciously sideways beneath your hardened fist. The man stumbled on the ground once more, and when he tried to get up, he saw blood on the floor where his face was. He looked at you in fright and scrambled to his feet, making his way outside and finally leaving all of you, hopefully for good.

"BOSS! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Salvador called as he wriggled free from Nero's iron grasp and chased after the defeated doctor.

“That hand,... PRACTICED THE PIANO 40 FREAKING HOURS A DAY!” You screamed at your pathetic, narcissistic ex, and, man, it felt so, so good! "Wow." You breathed a sigh of relief, a proud look on your face. "That was so intense!”

"You betcha!" Nico laughed as she watched the two men scurry their way outside in fright.

"They should think twice before crossing any Sparda next time." Nero added, shrugging his shoulders.

"There won't be a next time! Mark my words.” Dante corrected as he stretched his long arms and made his way back to the dancefloor.

"I shouldn't say this but," V added as he closed the gap between the two of you and linked his fingers with yours. " … I'm so proud of what you've done, (Y/N). And I won't ever regret saying it."

"Haha, thanks."

"And what is going on here, if I may inquire?" You heard Fleminger's voice. Apparently, he has been watching the whole scene unfold right before him in silence. And he didn't look overjoyed.

"Well, I,... " You stuttered, feeling nervous under the host's scrutinizing gaze. "Took care of,... something?"

"Here, man." Nico whispered to V as she handed him something from her backpack.

Fleminger shook his head with an apologetic look on his face. "You must know that,... violence,… is strictly discouraged in these halls of entertainment. And for that, I must disqualify the both of you from winning the title of King and Queen for this evening." Fleminger declared, bringing down the hammer of justice right before you and V. Shaking his head with a distinct frown in his face, he turned around and muttered, "Such a shame."

"Go for it! I'm countin' on ya!" Nico told V as she pushed him closer towards you.

"Is there something wrong, V?" You asked, the sweet victory of winning against Christopher and the bitter sting of being disqualified as Queen still very much fresh in your system.

The man smiled as he shook his head. Then, making one swift decision to trust his gut and finally get this one final plan for the evening over and done with, he took your hand and led you outside, getting past the people who congratulated you, both for dominating the dance floor and for giving that evil doctor a piece of your mind.

***

🌸 I was actually wondering why it's taking me so long to edit this chapter but, then I realized, there's over 4k words in this.😅😅😅 🌸

🌸 @la-vita , @dreaming-gamer , @birdgirl69 , @v-vic , and @hanniskywalker . 🌸

***

That,... bitch! That fucking bitch and her skinny boyfriend who thinks he owns the world!

"You thought you have the last laugh, eh?" Christopher said, and as he was about to reach for that thing in his breast pocket, he felt a strange presence behind him. Looking back, he saw a tall, and ridiculously attractive dark - skinned man who was leaning against a pillar just outside Fleminger's mansion. Unlike the other guests, he was not dressed in his best vintage and he looked like he was only there to crash the party. His dark, gleaming eyes seemed to observe him very, very closely, and it felt like those eyes were piercing through his skull right to the depths of his soul.

"Can I help you?" Christopher asked, suddenly feeling the atmosphere getting heavy right before this stranger's presence.

The man raised his eyebrows. His hands still in the pocket of his grey pants, he nodded and spoke in a very deep, and yet, sweet - like - honey, voice. "Maelstrom."

"Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about - ?!"

"Exactly." The man answered. "I thought I sensed something special here. Alas, I was mistaken." The man left the pillar and turned the other way to leave. But before that, Christopher heard the man mutter something under his breath. "Ah, such a shame. No wonder Bedlam has been so down for decades now, I see. Aha, time to search for someone else,..."

"EXCUSE ME?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU - ?!"

"Who are you talking to, scum?"

Just then, Christopher heard another voice behind him. But unlike the honeyed voice of the attractive hobo who just left, this one sounded like it was filled with such poison. He turned around and found a tall, white - haired man standing before him. He was staring him down with those cold eyes of his, and his right hand was lurking dangerously close to the hilt of the katana on his left hand.

"What now?!" Christopher howled in agony, feeling as if he was losing his mind completely.

"I believe," The white - haired man drawled, his voice sounding so much like a feral hiss, as he finally unsheathed the Yamato and pointed it at Christopher. " ... you have something that is mine in your possession?"

Wait a second here,...

Tall, ridiculously virile - looking, and white - haired,...

"Another,... SPARDA?!" Christopher helplessly gasped in fright as he felt his bladder fail on him.

Vergil gave him one last sadistic smile as he went closer to the man who almost ruined his brother's evening with you.

"And that's the last time you'll ever say that name." The eldest son of Sparda said as he raised the Yamato,...

***

🌸🌸🌸

***

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love | rogerxreader

summary: roger fucking taylor. the boy in your biology class. the boy you’ve had a crush on for years. the boy who doesn’t know you exist. has recognised your existence. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, references to sex and stripping

word count: 4.0k

the first chapter of my upcoming fanfic! i’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s still not finished so i’m not sure how often i’ll update, but i’m planning on having a taglist for it so if people do like it, they can be alerted of when it comes out (if you want to be added, just pm me or send in a request!) i’m immensely proud of it and i think it’s some of my best writing - a lot of research went into it so i’m happy with the outcome so far and i hope you will be too. enjoy!! :)

There truly was no worse day than a Saturday.

I know, I know - but Saturday's are the best! There's no school, no work, you can sit around and chill all day, or go out clubbing with all your friends; maybe even pull a dude or two...

That may be the case for every single other person in the world, disincluding you. You see, your life is a little different to the usual person. Most people do spend their weekends sitting around, or going out with their friends, pulling girls and guys every night. You, on the other hand, spend it studying and working. You can safely say that taking a BSc in Biology at North East London Polytechnic was maybe the biggest mistake of your life yet. Don't get yourself wrong, you am good at it. In fact, you’re top of my class - you just struggle to balance all the studying with your job and family life.

Hence why you are sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a sea of glossy biology textbooks which contain much more information than your brain is willing to retain at this point. The words had began twisting in your eyes, no longer forming sentences but rather just squiggles on a page. Your pretty sure you have read the same page 3 times in the past hour, all information going through one ear and straight out the other. What the fuck was a bacteriophage? Or what about it being icosahedral or filamentous? And what was the difference between the lytic stage and the lysogenic stage? At this point, those weren't even words. Okay, so maybe you have been sitting here since 11 this morning, it now being 7 in the evening, but this was your standard Saturday. Having work every weekday in the evenings - 7:30pm until 3:00am - with your classes then starting as early as 9:00 on certain days, you didn't exactly have enough time to study on weekdays. Sleep was practically nonexistent for you by now, you were lucky to even get in 4 hours a night. Unfortunately for you, work also existed on Saturdays. You are probably thinking why don't you study on Sundays? Well, because Sundays were family days - you’d have to travel 3 hours to see your Ma and Pa, who would tell you how proud they were of you, doing a BSc in a subject that would get you far, and having a solid job that brought income for the whole family. Granted, they had absolutely no idea what your job actually was - and it isn't something they will ever know - but you don't really have a choice. You need to pay for your accommodation somehow, and contribute to the families bills after your father got fired from his job and went into severe debt. Therefore, it was a job you resorted to. In fact, you have work in 30 minutes, and here you are - trying to cram in a chapter's worth of course content for a test you had on Monday, surviving on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

You felt your arms begin to weaken under the weight of your head as you placed it into your palms, your eyes beginning to flutter shut as you gradually dozed off, the lack of sleep taking it's revenge. It wasn't until the loud, boisterous voice of your roommate interrupted the silence.

"Y/N, darling, have you seen my- Oh, love, what on earth is this disaster?" He cringed, sitting opposite you on the table, as you frantically sifted through the mound of worksheets for one in particular. "Look, darling, you need to sort this out. You look like you've been dragged through the bushes and back - you have work in 26 minutes and you are not even dressed!"

"Wow, thanks Freddie. Look, I don't really have a choice - if I don't have this topic nailed, I may just fail my exam, and then what? My life rides on this Fred, and I'm completely and utterly fucked if I fail." you wearily ranted, a yawn escaping your lips, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Fred, as he placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of you - unbeknownst it was your fourth one tonight.

"Y/N, don't be so dramatic - there is only room in this flat for one hysterical queen, and I'm afraid I took that role many years ago. There is absolutely no way that you, Y/N M/N L/N, could ever fail a biology exam - you are the top of your class, and as much as you deny it, you know this content like the back of your hand. Look, I'll prove it - what is a bacteriophage, and what are the three possible shapes?"

"It's a virus which can infect and kill bacteria - the capsid of a bacteriophage can be icosahedral, filamentous, or head-tail in shape." The words simply rolled off your tongue, as you kept my focus on the textbook in front of you.

"Told you so, bet you were questioning in your head just 5 minutes ago what the fuck a bacteriophage is, and all that other shit you just said. I know you like the back of my hand, darling - you underestimate yourself far too much. Now put the fucking books away and get ready for work!" He nagged, taking a long sip of the glass of champagne he had acquired out of nowhere - typical Freddie. You didn't even respond, just simply rolled your eyes before rising to your feet to head upstairs. Freddie knew how much you hated your job, it was not exactly one praised by society. You’re what people would call an exotic dancer - or more commonly known as a stripper. It wasn't an occupation you asked for, it was rather one that was simply opened at a rather opportune moment for you. You can safely say yoinwill be taking the chance to quit as soon as you get your degree and can move on, but you’re stuck with it for the time being. You hate it on multiple levels - the feeling of having multiple older men's gaze set on your body, as if you were some kind of object, their minds wandering to all the things they could do to you if given the chance - it wasn't exactly a nice feeling. It is truly disgusting the amount of times you have been called a whore, slut, slag, floozie, tart, or prostitute - the list is ultimately endless at this point. What is even funnier is that it tends to be these same people who then turn up to your showings later on in the evening, indulging in your performance like every other male in the club. To make it worse, people often tell you you’re lucky to have guy's attention all the time - as if you should be proud of the fact that you have a body and face admirable by men. You always thought that was complete and utter bullshit - why the fuck should a guys validation make youbody and face suddenly attractive? Thankfully, most of the men who came to the club tended to be a little older than yourself - meaning there was never any guys from the university, or even better your class, who would come by. The only person who actually knows your truth is Freddie - who even though he did disapprove of it, would always try to cheer you up and make you feel more confident about it. You see, Freddie is extremely overprotective of you, he treats you like his little sister - he always wants you out of harm's way, always makes sure you were eating and getting at least 5 hours of sleep each night, always lends you money in your most desperate times of need, and opened his home to you the night you met him. It's funny actually - you remember that night so extremely vividly. He had come along to one of your performances, and ended up bumping into you backstage - you engaged in a conversation which lasted nearly the whole night, and before you knew it, it was 2am. He asked to walk you home, to which you simply had to reply with the fact you didn't have one and you were just planning on crashing on the couch in your dressing room. Of course, Freddie being Freddie invited you back to stay with him - any other person would be immediately cautious of the request, but at this point you had nothing to lose. And here you are, a month later and you were now living with him. He was basically the best roommate you could ask for.

The club is like a second home, or house - you wouldn't consider it very homely. Although the case was rare, if there was ever a point you couldn't stay at Freddie's, they allow you to sleep on the couch in the dressing room. Thankfully, your colleagues and the manager are all extremely nice people, it is more the visitors who get on your nerves and made you sick to the stomach. Basically a majority of the other girls you work with are in the same position than you; they are either college students just trying to pay off debt, or teenage mothers whose boyfriends left them after finding out they were pregnant who were trying to finance their child - everyone had their own individual story but in a way, you were all similar. Like you said, it is a second home to you, so when you stepped inside for the 6th time this week, it felt no different. The strong smell of booze and drugs no longer hit you like a brick, but rather became a second nature to your brain. The booming music, blaring at top volume from speakers which were scattered in nearly every crevice of the room, had become the norm for your eardrums - which realistically is bad for your health, but you didn’t think that's the thing that'll kill you at this point. The masses of men crowded around tables no longer made your stomach churn, now it just became the same old same old. You weren’t actually on stage until 8:00 tonight, so you don't know why they had you in half an hour early - you had already finished your makeup and got dressed. You leant against the bar, downing the first of what would be many complimentary drinks you would receive over the night - as much as you hated the job, it did have it's benefits. Free booze was probably the best thing to come out of it, when men would buy you drinks in hopes of getting you in their bed - all of them being nearly twice your age, they were never successful, but it was fun to watch 'em try. They would often strike up a conversation with you, the topic of which was always him, meaning you’d stand there responding with simple nods and the occasional burst of laughter - your mind in a completely different world of its own, usually a world of worry and anxiety of failing your exams.

"So, where is it you work? I could definitely see you working in an office or as a lawyer, I can imagine you would look very professional in a pantsuit, or even on the front cover of Vogue, you certainly have the body" The man, who had now situated himself beside you, practically purred. Was he seriously asking where you worked? What an imbecile. The whole ordeal is making you sick to your stomach, earning an eye roll in an instant - though you thought you’d play along to see where exactly he was going to go with this.

"Well, you wouldn't be interested in my life..." you laughed lightly, slowly and seductively inching closer to him. "But... I'm interested in yours. Tell me, where is it you're from, I love your accent."

"Oh, well I'm sure that isn't true, but I was actually born and bred in Italy - I moved here a few years ago, but thankfully I never lost the accent; it's a great tool for getting the girls in bed - especially the incredibly tempting ones such as yourself." He purred down your ear, you felt his breath on your neck and yourblood suddenly ran cold, as he placed his hand against the curve of your spine. Tempting?

You laughed under your breath in utter disbelief, your blood began to boil - how can someone be so small minded and narcissistic, yet spend their weeks in a strip club. "So you think I'm tempting?"

"Obviously, I mean you're super sexy and you really turn me on." He winked, and you stared at him incredulously.

"Well, you wanna know what I find incredibly tempting about you?" - he didn't speak, just simply nodded as he took a large gulp, as if he was intimidated by you. You moved closer, so that your hand was now placed against his inner thigh, and raised to your tiptoes - "There's just a deep pit burning in me, it's almost irresistible - just the thought of it is alone is so extremely enticing. I just have this immense desire to..." you whisper seductively in his ear, right as you ram your knee between his legs, making him cry out in a yell of pain and fall to his knees. " Do that." you grinned, before grasping the drink from the counter and gradually pouring it onto his head, the alcohol seeping through the thin material of his shirt, surely leaving him in a satisfying discomfort for the rest of the night, as if the hit to the balls wasn't enough. "And that"

"What the fuck? You fucking bitch!" He screamed, his voice going higher than you ever thought a man's voice could go, probably a side effect of his now undoubtedly swollen and painful misters.

You didn't respond, simply sashaying away as you raised my middle finger in his direction. You must say, after months of working in this club, you have practically become immune to the disease you like to call men. They just don't turn you on anymore. Don't get yourself wrong, not all men are like that - for example, Freddie is undoubtedly one of the sweetest human beings to walk this earth - but it seems like the men you’re surrounded by are basically parasites. Probably just a side effect of working in the hornets' nest, all kinds of trouble was stirred up in this building, it pretty much became the second (less sexual) form of entertainment for the customers. And you guess it's just your luck, because now it's your calltime. Your favourite time of the night - not. You entered the door, sighing a little. Come on, Y/N, you got this girl, just a little while longer and you can be back in the comfort of your bed. You always have to give yourself a little pep talk as you walk towards the door of what was, in a way, the gateway into Hell. That's if hell was a strip bar full of cheap and sleazy, lest we forget to mention mostly married men. All staring at you like food on a silver platter. It is quite frankly, disgusting. The walkway this week had silky, white curtains that the dancers usually appear through; as if to give the 'illusion' of us being 'angels appearing through the veil of the heavens'. You called bullshit on that one, that's also partly the reason your outfit was made up of a satin white robe, covering your lacy white lingerie. They also recently decided that the dancers should dust themselves with gold glitter before going onstage - thinking it might make you seem a little more angelic. Of course it doesn't, but you couldn’t lie - you looked incredible; the insubstantial underwear hugs your body in all the right places, yet still leaving little to the imagination; and the shimmer of gold across your chest only accentuating it more as the bright lights radiates your skin; your long locks flowing down your back, swinging with every step you took as you saunter onto the stage. Sudden cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, the oh so familiar sound permeating the room with energy and excitement. The noise only increased as you little by little slid the satin piece down your shoulders to reveal the straps of the two-piece underneath, letting it slide down your body completely and pool around your feet on the floor. Usually, you would feel comfortable on stage, the fact you were borderlining nudity wouldn't phase youbone bit; but something felt different tonight. You have the same audience, the same form of outfit, same routine - but something feels strange, out of place, and you can't quite decipher it. You brush it off, knowing it's probably just nerves, and continue with your set - swaying around the stage, showing off your assets from every angle; and that's where you saw him.

Hidden in the corner of the room, he sat in a dimly lit spot making him barely visible thanks to the broken light which had been smashed a few days ago in a drunken bar fight. Perching forward in a lounge chair, he continually lifted the lit cigarette that was resting between his middle and index fingers towards his rosy lips, taking long drags every few seconds. As his golden, scraggly-but-still-well-groomed locks were clinging to the sides of his face, you notice his steel blue gaze dancing over your body as he scans you up and down.

Roger Fucking Taylor.

The same Roger that was in your biology class. The same Roger that was constantly trying to one up you and be the top of the class (unsuccessful in his attempts of course). The same Roger that you had had a crush on since you the course. The same Roger that didn't even know you existed. He had never been partnered with you, never spoken to you, never even looked in your direction. When you first entered the course, you had heard all about Rogers, how do I put this nicely, reputation with the ladies - making youbinstantly cringe at the utter disrespect of some of the things he had apparently done with them. But after a few weeks, you couldn't help but be drawn to him - he has an undeniable charm that he probably doesn't even know he's using half of the time, he is incredibly intelligent, and it is indisputable that he is the human form of the Greek God, Adonis, himself. You hate yourself for feeling this way, you always attempt to push it down as you know it'll do you no good in the long run. Like I said, Roger is known for his wild adventures with the women; and you weren’t one to participate in the activities of said adventures. Having a job as a stripper, people expect me to be extremely confident and out there, a lively socialite who is the life of the party, always being the centre of attention. I am, in fact, the complete opposite. When I'm not at work, I'm exceedingly reserved and introverted - I have one friend, Freddie; I only ever contribute to class when asked a question, other than that I sat at the back taking my own notes; I spend any spare time I have at home watching tv or reading a book. Therefore, I know I have a 0.00001% chance of Roger even acknowledging my existence - which I am fine with. I accepted my defeat months ago. And now, he's sat here watching me dance around, practically naked.

After finishing my set, I pace off stage- praying to Jesus that Roger didn't recognise it was me. He barely even notices me in lessons - surely he doesn't know me. What if he does though? What if he goes around school telling all his friends that I'm a fucking stripper? I'd be well and truly fucked - and not in the good way. I have never left the club faster than I did tonight, throwing on my clothes and fleeing through the backstage exit. My head is pacing, as clouds of worry and thought occupy the space - how am I ever going to face Roger again? What if he tells people? What if he is disgusted by me? I can feel my hand shaking as I try to unlock the apartment door, in which I throw open and slam behind me.

"Home so early, darling?" I could hear Freddie's voice from the living room shouting through, before the loud pop of the champagne bottle in his hand - presumably his second tonight. I threw my bag to the side before storming into the room and slumping down next to Freddie on the couch, releasing a large sigh.

"Yeah, work wasn't great" I groaned, noticing Freddie gesturing for me to take the bottle in his hand, to which I took a big swig in response; making Freddie chuckle.

"When is your work ever great? What's wrong, love?" He raised from the couch to grab himself a glass, knowing I'm not giving up this wine bottle as easily as he hoped.

"As you know, a majority of the men we get at the club are at least twice my age. Well, you remember Roger Taylor right?" I mumbled, focusing my attention to Freddie's glass which he held out in front of me, pouring the liquid in slowly as to not spill it all over the both of us.

"From your class? The one you have an undeniable love for? Yeah, I know him. What did he do?"

"Well, he turned up. He was sat in the back of the room. What am I to do Fred? What if he tells people that my job is basically prostitution? My life will be ruined. Not only that, but now my crush has seen me borderline naked, and prancing around the stage like some kind of... well, stripper" I cringed at the thought, it sounded a little stupid. Surely, I'd want my crush to see how good looking I can be? Not one bit.

"Oh god, what on earth was he doing there? Sounds like you have a bit of blackmailing yourself - Roger Taylor in a strip club-"

"Is exactly where I'd expect to find him if I'm being honest Fred - you know what he's like. I'd be surprised if it wasn't a place he visited everyday" I chimed in, I'm not lying. He is exactly the type of cocky, arrogant little shit who would find bliss in a strip club.

"Look, everything will be fine - you have two options, darling. You can either avoid him for the rest of your life, hoping he doesn't share the secret and ultimately ruin your life forever. Or you can fucking own it, and strut into school tomorrow like you are the shit and give Roger a piece of your mind - it's up to you, but I'm rooting for the second" Fred explained, trying reason with the one person he would never be able to reason with. I am quite stubborn when I want to be, and now is one of those occasions. "Now get to sleep, if you are home this early you should take advantage of it. Oh, do you have the money for rent?"

"Shit. Fuck. Fred I'm so sorry - I left in such a rush that I forgot to pick it up. I'll pay you Monday? I'm so sorry" I frettered, eyes widening at the realisation I not only couldn't pay Freddie, but I also can't pay my parents when I go down tomorrow.

"Darling, it's fine - I'll give you this week free of charge. You deserve it with all your hard work!"

Mouthing a small 'thank you', I smiled and nodded before slumping upstairs to my bedroom. As I reached my bed, I noticed all my biology books, which were previously scattered across the living room table, all stacked in the order of importance for the exam on Monday. I grinned to myself at Freddie's attempt of helping me study, although I know he only did it because he hates when I leave my books around the apartment. I can barely sleep, my eyes are refusing to close and my mind wanders back to Roger with every attempt of rest. I can't help but agonise over the situation; knowing something was going to go wrong and my life was going to be ruined.

[xtrash-writing-trashx420]

Toxicity At It's Finest, Reader x Draco Malfoy

"I've been holdin' my breath, I've been countin' to ten, over somethin' you said..."

The weather is a mirror to the emotions swirling through the air.

Thunder shatters the silence, roaring just above the manor. Lightning splits the skies, the blue light flashing across both of your faces, seemingly accentuating the flaming anger of his clenched jaw and fiercely glaring ice blue eyes. Rain drops, big and heavy as hail, pounds the windows in earnest.

You can't believe what had spewed from his mouth, and the sting is worse than as if you've been slapped in the face. You take a deep, shuddering breath, and choose your next words carefully, as your voice breaks and you choke back a sob.

"... Alright,"

Now it's his turn to look as if he's been slapped. You don't miss the shock on his face, but you continue anyways, feeling as if it's for the best.

"I'll go."

You turn on your heels and run for the stairs, scared to stay a moment longer, lest he talk you out of it.

Though blinded by tears, you don't miss a single step, and you reach your shared bedroom without making any more of a fool out of yourself. The door slams shut behind you, and the sound echoes through the mansion, as if trying to voice your determination for you. Still, you finally let the tears flow freely and you scream out in devastation as you back against the door and slide down to the marble floors.

You had finally had enough. After twelve long years of staying by Draco's side through his ridiculous bi-polar emotional episodes and abuse, through his breakdowns from the abuse of his father, through his cheating on you with that disgusting pug Pansy Parkinson, through his suicidal pact with the Dark Lord, and almost dying for him in the Battle of Hogwarts, you had finally had enough.

"I've been holdin' back tears, while you're throwin' back beers and I'm alone in bed..."

These kind of fights were not uncommon while Draco drank back his pain and sorrow, but it used to end in the two of you coming together in the heat of the argument to say your apologies through some sort of carnal physical activity, since neither you nor Draco were ever ones to voice your feelings in the lovey-dovey chit-chat sort of ways. But for the past eighteen months, there had been no apologies at all, carnal or otherwise. Things had steadily been getting more and more aggressive and tense between the two of you, spiralling out of control as Draco drank more and more often. He often would try to find any reason to start and argument, almost as if trying to distance himself from you. You, on the other hand, had simply taken everything in stride for the first few months, knowing that one of the consequences of being committed to the Malfpy Heir was his rollercoaster of emotions and admittedly vindictive and toxic nature whenever he was caught in a downward slope.

But things were different this time. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and no matter how often you tried to break through his wall and try to get him to open up to you again; to become the soft, sweet yet damaged boy that you knew was behind the façade, he wouldn't crack.

You had even tried to break through with seduction, as it was a last-resort that you had used more than once before. You had even donned his favorite lingerie; an emerald green and black sheer lace set with a black sheer lace kimono. You had cornered him while he was in his father's old study, hunched over some sort of paperwork with his hands stuffed into his silky, platinum hair. You had approached quietly, draping yourself over his shoulders and kissing his ear while you whispered a breathy,

"Draco, come play..."

into his ear.

And the bastard had the audacity to take one sideways glance at you and scoff, looking back to the papers and muttering something snide under his breath about having no time for games.

More and more layers of wall went up with every brick you had managed to scrape off in the past, and it had finally come to a peak.

"You know I, I'm afraid of change... Guess that's why, we stayed the same..."

Even the beginning of the fight had been strange. Usually the arguments you two had were over something real, something serious. Whether it be you, trying to help him break away from his carefully sculpted mask of anger and spite that had been constructed over the years and getting blind-sided with some vindictive comment by the character he had forged; or by said character being a few too many butterbeers in and trying to deconstruct you for something extremely irrelevant and simple, like doing the dishes by hand instead of instructing the house elves to do them, there was a predictable pattern to his emotional explosions.

This time had been different.

You were simply lounging by the fire, delving deep into your favorite muggle-writen novel, when he had appeared before you. You couldn't exactly remember what had happened at first, only that he had torn the book from your hands and thrown it into the roaring fireplace. The next thing you can recall, he's pushing you back against the black leather couch, forcing his mouth and body upon you as if he hadn't been completely depriving you for over a year, as if he hadn't brushed off your advances and let you cry yourself to sleep alone in the bed you had once shared for over a year.

So you did what any sane woman would do: You slapped him and shoved him off of you, hollering over your lost novel and his shitty advance.

"You must be joking?!" You had screamed, standing over him as he clutched his face in pain and looked up at you with liquor-glazed eyes wide in apparent shock.

The shock didn't last long, though.

You don't know if he actually hit you, because everything happened so quickly, but your recollection counts you on the floor, and him above you, screaming profanities in your face as spit flies from his mouth while he roars at you through clenched teeth. You've never been one to back down though, and you remember quickly finding your feet and shoving him backwards into the coffee table, almost tripping him as you scream back profanities that would make an Irish sailor blush.

Things escalated so quickly, you can't remember exactly what each of you said, you just remember how bad each word hurt. Whether you were receiving or dishing them out, each word split your heart into tinier pieces, syllable by syllable. The last thing you remember was what ended the argument and sent you flying up the stairs.

"So tell me to leave. I'll pack my bags, get on the road..."

"So why don't you just tell me to fucking leave?! Why the fuck are we still doing this?! Why waste either of our time anymore?! I don't fucking deserve this!! You've been playing fucking games with me since the first day we fucking met, you don't fucking love me, you barely love yourself!!"

"Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know. 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

You had regretted the words instantly, for they had sobered you of the outright rage that had blinded you for however long the fight had been going for. Draco, however, had no sobering experience. No, your analysis of his drinking and abuse had simply proved to anger him further, and he screamed the six words that shattered your world to the core.

"THEN GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT, YOU HALF-BREED WHORE!! YOU'RE BARELY WORTH MY TIME, I COULD FIND TEN WOMEN WHO WOULD LOVE ME BETTER!! AND THEY'LL ALL KNOW THEIR BLOODY PLACE, TOO!!"

"Feels like a lifetime, just tryna get by, while we're dying inside. I've done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one, but I can't move on..."

Silence ensued between the two of you, even though it was swallowed by the crack of the thunder above your heads and the deafening pounding of the large raindrops on the roof.

And this is what brought you here, locked away in your once shared bedroom, crying your soul out in rivers as you packed what mattered as quickly as possible, not that you were getting very far with your task. You could barely see, after all. In fact, you were sobbing so openly and loudly; you didn't hear the quiet flapping of clothing and clap of footfalls on marble that come with someone apparating into appearance.

"You know I, I'm afraid of change. Guess that's why we stay the same..."

You growled in sorrow and frustration at your clumsily packed trunk, slamming down the lid to try and close it; to no avail. You could barely see through your tears, so you could scarcely be expected to notice the small corner of a shirt that was tucked just slightly into the slot where the latch was supposed to slide in. You simply growled and cried in aggravation, slamming it over and over, faster and harder, trying to get the latch to catch in the slot. After a few tries, you gave up. Sliding to floor in anguish and defeat, you brought your legs up and crossed your arms over your knees, tucking your face into your jeans to hide your tear and snot-streaked features. You still can't hear anything over the deafening storm and your own cries, but you know it's Draco when you feel his touch. It's soft, as if he's trying not to frighten you away like you would a feral cat.

Just a gentle stroke of his palm on your hair, and you dare take a glance at his shoes through your arms, before looking up at him through your tears. You can see his expression change when he takes a good look at your face, and you can see the pain in his now sobered eyes. You can tell he's sorry, but that's not enough this time, and you turn your face back into your legs and take a deep, shuddering breath.

"So tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road. Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know. 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

"(Y/N), please..." You can hear his voice cracking, and you want so badly to turn to him and push away his fears. You want to tell him that you won't go anywhere, that you'll always be here, that you'll never let him push you away... But you can't. You don't have it in you right now, and you're not sure if you will again, not this time. For the first time, you find yourself imagining a life without Draco in it. Would you be happier? Would the pain end? You don't think you even remember what it was like before being with Draco, before being a slave to your blind love for him and that scares you half to death.

So you don't say a thing, you simply begin to cry even harder, and that prompts Draco to drop to his knees beside you, enveloping you in his arms and whispering desperate 'I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry's. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, and for a split moment you think the roof has sprung a leak, before you realize it's his tears hitting the top of your head as he cries in earnest.

"I don't know what to do, (Y/N)... I don't know how to fix this... I love you so much..." He chokes back a sob, and you sniffle as you begin to cry even harder.

"Please, please don't leave... I'm so so sorry..."

You stay like that for a few hours, wrapped in his arms while he cries out his apologies into your hair, before you finally cave into him, shushing his sobs and kissing away his tears.

"If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and baby, I'll go. You remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

[all-brown-everything]

My favourite Indian films of 2018

Sorry for the wait this year. 2018 in the movies mirrored my own life a lot; the films on the list are films to love, make you feel something human, and they force you to take their characters and hold them close to your chest as if they were your own. While the most interesting mainstream movies from South Asia over previous years on this blog have excelled when they chose to experiment with the language of cinema itself, the 10 I’ve written about here have, similar to great literature, embraced pain, longing, love and everything else that comes with being alive.

10. Theevandi

I’ve seen this film being described as an “anti-smoking movie.” I couldn’t disagree more. It’s a story about the nature of habit (rather than the disease of ‘addiction’), of locating the source of your personality, your soul, and trying to change it against the will of nature. During my time in India this year, nothing brought more joy than an ice burst and cutting tea at the side of the road, perching on the side of the pavement and watching life carry on around you. And while this is a film with a main character who wants to quit smoking, it isn’t about cancer. It isn’t about that horrible sooty smell at the end of your fingers, or yellowing teeth or a decreased sperm count. It’s about how something as innocuous as a tube of rolled up tobacco hanging out of your mouth can act as a fragile crutch for the entire weight of the world.

9. Laila Majnu

Like many of my favourites this year (and every year), this re-telling of one of South Asia’s most important romances wants to know what love is. Here, we see love not as a generous, giving emotion, but as pure greed. With one of Bollywood’s most gorgeous soundtracks, that bleeds furiously out of every frame, and a constant sparkling gleam of glamour over these gorgeous young actors and the Kashmiri hills they prance around in, I enjoyed this enough just based on the commercial tropes it toys with for fun. But its real beauty lies in its brave and painful final declaration; that the most divine love may connect you to God and remove your soul from your body, but it will destroy you and your connections to the Earth, as the cruelest form of asceticism.

8. Cake

I’m including a Pakistani movie (again) because our film industries were birthed under one national identity, and I don’t see the studios of Karachi as any more culturally distant from Mumbai’s Film City than Kodambakkam. Moving to Cake, this stunning portrait of a dysfunctional family surprised me against all my instincts that it was a Western-facing production clearly aimed at piercing its way into festivals and a patronising ‘World Cinema’ bracket. It is in fact, a study of shifting societal politics in an increasingly extreme and polarised World, of figuring out where your values stand in the midst of religion, feudalism and globalisation, and accepting that when these heavy, abstract concepts weigh down on your shoulders, it is the human beings around you who will feel the strain first.

7. Golak, Bugni, Bank Te Batua

I really love Punjabi cinema. Seeing it come into its own and reclaim its cultural narratives and aesthetics from bastardizing Bollywood (where now even a film set in rural Gujarat will feature a Punjabi language song) has brought a lot of joy. Now here comes a  happy little film not set on preaching the glory of Sikkhi or telling an epic tale of brave warriors or earnest farmers, but on bringing us into the lives of a middle class Hindu Punjabi family in a small mohalla of a tier 2 city. And these aren’t the Hindu “Punjabis” of a Bollywood movie set in Chandni Chowk, who might throw in a “tussi” or “tuadi” here and there at the most. These are real people with a real culture, as intertwined with Punjab and their Sikh neighbours as they are separate. The film doesn’t patronise them by drawing humour from their novel identity; the situational character-based slapstick and witty back-and-forth theatrical dialogues exist in a warm parallel with the “World” of the movie. And then the lives of these people change in one instant as demonetisation hits, and we are hilariously reminded that whether you’re Hindu or Sikh, Northern or Southern, you are (unfortunately) still in India.

6. C/o Kancharapalem

I won't say this film stood out as a "Telugu movie", as such slight, subtle films are an anomaly no matter what language they're made in or how brash those other films produced in the same mother tongue may be. These small and quiet tales, with their shy characters who live at the fringes of society, whether that mean they are Muslim prostitutes or simple middle class teachers carving out a living in a small village, are special because they manage to transmit such humanity without stirring from the dark alleyways or shaded courtyards where they take place. Not every film needs to stand tall like an intimdsting Tolstoy tome; some can be as unassuming as an RK Narayan novella and still make us feel like they're an epic.

5. Pyaar Prema Kaadhal

Let's be honest. Casting two leads from a reality show, putting heart shaped balloons in your posters and deciding on the title "Love, Love, Love" pretty much screams "trash" doesn't it? But here was a humbling reminder that Indian popular culture can surprise you in the most pleasant of ways. These two good-looking young wannabe-stars and their social media followings represent so much about the "new India", a steadfastly singular culture (or cultures) whizzing through the fiery hoops of globalisation at breakneck speed, coming to terms with a mixed up value system, raging sexual frustration and an ever widening class gap, all of which have left a generation feeling more connected yet more alienated than ever before. This is 'Pyaar, Prema, Kaadhal', a flawed and horny love story, sweating with tension and all the repulsive angst of human emotion, yet with the glamorous musical heart of Indian cinema still beating loudly underneath.

4. Manmarziyaan

There was as much to love about 'Manmarziyaan' as there was to hate. The age-old filmi love triangle rears its head again, only this time with characters who are more manipulative and frustrating than any you've seen in a "mainstream" movie before. But while the film never forces you to judge (at times leaving you confused about whether you're actually supposed to like any of these people) it demands that you engage. It's encouraged some of the finest writing on cinema I've seen in recent years, and such an unashamedly "Bollywood" film inspiring this thrilling thought and analysis from our finest critics (whether their judgement is kind or not) warrants its inclusion on this list alone. Then there's the way its incredible soundtrack weaves in and out of scenes like the characters own breaths, the way life changing moments are obscured from the script by deafening silences and acutely observed minutiae, and of course THAT lead performance. I'm not sure if I "liked" it or not, but I sure as hell can't wait to watch it again.

3. Pari

The better the film, the harder it is to write about. 'Pari' is rich with metaphor. While being a ghost story (and a damn good one) merely on the surface, it has plenty to say about the way our society treats women, poses the question of if we can truly be born evil, and even critiques our savage treatment of "the other" in a global society where more of us are on the run than settled in our homes. But I think its biggest strength is that while it challenges you to reach into the very centre of your being and take a look at yourself and the World around you, its craft and screenwriting is so good that not at any moment does it give you a second to realise that's what you're doing.

2. Rangasthalam

'Rangasthalam' is so great. Like really really great. Once an innocuous muscle man, Ram Charan has channelled his inner Dhanush and located his physicality, writhing and slanging his way into the mind and body of the quintessential South Indian rural hero, hoisting his lungi and flicking his beedi into one of the most visceral and truly cinematic masala movies in living memory. The thumping pace and kinetic choreography (both of the rousing song sequences and the busy, lived-in frames of the rest of the movie) evoke a dusty, violent world with the same panache of Ameer in 'Paruthiveeran' or Sasikumar in 'Subramaniyapuram', while the moustache twirling dialogues and meticulous emotional beats offer as much pure fun as a "Dabangg" or a "Khakee" or any classic Hindi masala movie. I've read pieces linking the cinema of 'Rangasthalam' to film noir traditions, but to me it simply proved that the masala genre still has as much excitement to offer as any other.

1. Mukkabaaz

I'll remember 2018 as the year that Anurag Kashyap, previously India's frontrunner in the realm of "interesting" (but more often headscatching) cinema, stopped thinking with his very big brain and instead used his even bigger heart. His most straightforward film is undoubtedly his best, Hollywood-esque in its writing but firmly Indian in its sentiment. The scale is small - empty boxing arenas, bleak winding village paths and a cast plucked from the TV screen - but its emotions are pure opera. This is a timeless film, and though it laughs at the ridiculousness of modern India, poking a nasty smug finger at caste oppression, petty politics and the bureaucratic nightmare of simply trying to stay alive, it defies analysis. Much like the song at the centre of the story, the violently stunning 'Paintra', it only asks that you feel. And what more could we want from cinema?

I've had so much fun at the movies this year. From dancing to Dilbar in the cheap seats of G7 in Bandra to reciting Dhanush's Maari 2 dialogues at the bus stop outside Ilford Cineworld, Indian movies have continued to punctuate my life and bring me more joy than they have any right to. I can't wait to do this all again this year. What were the films that stirred you over the last 12 months? Let me know. Xx