#I respectfully ignore the topic NOT you

[awesomefringey]

.

[musicalchaos07]

Me, waiting to see how exactly they plan to resolve Jonathan's storyline now that they've reintegrated him back into the Byers family:

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

-

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend… And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip. 

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat. 

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick. 

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos. 

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again. 

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. “Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

[witchy-scribblings]

imagine matching with rengoku kyojuro on tinder...

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has a long ass bio, written in all caps and with an excessive amount of exclamation marks and fire emojis, but his introduction is so sweet and endearingly to the point that you ignore the possibility of him being another weirdo.

❀ "about me: HI! I'M KYOJURO!!! I LOVE EATING AND KENDO TRAINING 🔥🔥 SET YOUR HEART ABLAZE AND FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 NOT LOOKING FOR HOOKUPS!!!"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has only uploaded three pictures of himself: a selfie featuring the most intense eyes and radiant smile you've ever seen, a shot of a table covered in various delicious-looking dishes and a full body shot of him right after a training session, displaying a very sculpted and very sweaty upper body.

❀ tinder date kyojuro whose friend, uzui, was the actual mastermind behind the idea of introducing him to online dating (and who is to blame for the addition of that third picture everyone say thank you tengen).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who isn't partial to the idea of matching for a hook-up because that's far from his style.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who feels so pulled in by your profile when it appears that he doesn't even swipe right, he superlikes instead.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who forces himself not to stare at your swimsuit pictures because he thinks it's disrespectful, but at the same time can't stop admiring how pretty your face and smile are.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who feels so ridiculously giddy when he matches with you (even more if you had already swiped right on him before he superliked you) that he messages you immediately.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who couldn't come up with a pick-up line to save his life, so he just started with a very simple, very straightforward "HI! I'M KYOJURO! I THINK YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! 🔥🔥😃"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is admittedly bad at replying because he's generally very disconnected from his phone, but when he does answer he can engage in hours-long conversations if nothing else demands his immediate attention and, of course, if you're up for them.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who respectfully ends chats with other matches the moment he becomes hopeful and optimistic about the direction of his conversations with you, because he would never, ever ghost other people if he stopped being interested.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has actually taken notes of the hints you drop from time to time, like preferred date types and spots, hobbies, your favorite flowers, what kind of drink you order at coffee shops...

❀ tinder date kyojuro who doesn't rush meeting you in real life because he's genuinely content just chatting with you and learning more about you, but is unmistakably excited when you decide to exchange phone numbers.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is smitten with the first voice note you send him, especially because it was of you wheezing at some funny inside joke he had referenced, and he had thought you had the most stunning kettle laugh ever (he lets you know that).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who physically fist bumps the air when the topic of your actual first date together comes up, and he can't help gushing to uzui about every detail he arranges with you. "a picnic, tengen! isn't it just the most wonderful idea for a first date?"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who turns up at the park only a few minutes later than you, apologizing for making you wait with a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is absolutely delighted (and, flankly, a little blown away) that you had prepared some homemade food for the picnic (some of which he remembers having mentioned he likes).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who hasn't even held hands with you yet, but thinks he could marry you on the spot after the first bite of your cooking; he's the literal embodiment of the saying "the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach" (and yes, of course he goes "UMAI").

❀ tinder date kyojuro who loses track of time when he's with you, and visibly deflates like a scolded puppy when it gets dark because it means it's time to say goodbye. it helps, just a little, that you ask him to walk you home, and he complies without hesitation.

❀ tinder date kyojuro, whose disappointment at having to part ways with you is easily fixed when you confess that you'd love to see him again as soon as possible, and he has to actively fight the urge to squeeze the life out of you right there by your doorstep.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who deletes his tinder account as soon as he gets home because he knows it in his bones that there's no need for further searching.

[transmutationisms]

How would you define "exploitation" in media? I've seen a post going around about how most media is exploitative towards rape victims, and I was wondering what makes something exploitative.

i have not seen that post but in general i think this is not a particularly useful framework to begin with. in a strict sense any work of fiction 'exploits' its subject matter, but when people call a work "exploitative" i think they usually mean they perceive it as having nothing to say about the topic or to its subjects, and as seeking to provoke (outrage / shock) rather than to inform or challenge. the thing is this is a) in the eye of the beholder b) highly dependent on the work's perceived or putative prestige and c) wilfully ignorant of the fact that all fiction 'says something' about its subject matter. it may say something lazy, reactionary, trite, offensive, &c but nothing is without a viewpoint. i think it's usually the case that a work deemed "exploitative" is in fact being judged to be bad or dangerous or lowbrow---all judgments that can ofc be defended or disagreed with, and that potentially open critical avenues that simply attributing to it a special quality of exploitativeness doesn't really.

you pick up any work of fiction because you are intrigued by it on some level; one could defend the position that every reader/viewer/player is a voyeur, but the 'exploitation' framework imo is flawed because it tries to make this argument about only some works and not others. it ends up masking a lot of the social factors mediating judgments of art (plenty of people have argued that much 'arthouse' cinema would be deemed 'exploitation' films if lacking prestigious names and budgets, and the reverse) and i think there are much better and more precise ways to analyse and describe a work's depiction of its subject matter: what is it saying, why, & through what media mechanics; what reaction does it provoke in you, and why; what it is responding to or building off of; whether its subject matter is treated respectfully or with nuance, and why or why not; &c &c &c

[blue-jisungs]

helllooo if ur requests are kinda closed bc of ur main request game thing (idk what u call it 😭) then ignore this!! but if ur requests are open and you’ll need time to get to this bc of ur request game thingy (wow great wording 😋) can u do an enhypen reaction (ot7) to a fem!idol!reader being in a really popular gg? HELP- the ideas rlly basic but so am I so like- 😍👌

you’re an idol ♡

a/n. sorry you had to wait for so long 🧍‍♀️ i hope you enjoy it!! also it’s not a basic idea i really wanted to write something like this hehe

┆彡 HEESEUNG [ 희승 ]

he’s your big fan but the biggest protector

during vlives he makes everything so you do not see hate comments

same with tweets. no idea how he does it but whoever tweets a bad word abt you they have their acc removed in a matter of hours 🧍‍♀️

besides that, hums your group’s songs 24/7

in private tho

bc he knows if one of the guys catch him, he’s being teased forever

also shows off your group merch on vlives!!

pssst, he’s a big fan of the light stick :”)

┆彡 JAKE [ 제이크 ]

engenes on weverse or bubble are low-key tired of him bc he talks about you and your group 24/7

“DID YOU SEE Y/N’S NEW IG POST?! THATS MY GF!!!”

literally has your pc tucked in his wallet and his phone case :”)

once got matching hair with you to support your comeback (spoiler: managers and jungwon were not happy)

sings your songs on lives <3

that’s actually how engenes and your fans started to figure out you’re dating

bc like… he won’t shut up about you. even on vlives or celebrity shows.

but it’s fine, he’s cute while doing that + you two make an adorable couple <3

┆彡 JAY [ 제이 ]

no one in the public knows (at first…)

but privately they are all sick of him 🤕

“[gg name] this, [gg name] that…”

heeseung jokes that he should be in your group since he talks more about than enhypen

also his music taste contains of 99% rock and that 1% of your group’s sweet songs about love╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

once (1) he danced to your song - especially your part - and engenes went WILD

engenes craved more jay covering gg songs

they ask, they shall receive! isn’t that suspicious that it’s only your group’s songs though…?

no one cares (respectfully) as long as grumpy jay is dancing cutely :D

┆彡 JUNGWON [ 정원 ]

he’s so in love, everyone can see that

“did you see y/n’s special stage today?! oh my goodness, she was so cool! and the outfit? and the– i mean… [gg name] did well!”

we all know his eyes were on you and you only

he always records your ending fairies 🥹

that means he has a whole ass folder for them + fan cams, memes and clips :”)

always helps you when you struggle with some parts of your choreos or such!!

and he’s so adorable that you can’t say no to his puppy eyes when he asks you to spoil something about your comebacks

“jungwon, no. i told you too much already!” “but…” “okay… but don’t tell others!”

he has a small key ring with a plushie of your representative animal attached to his keys :”)

┆彡 NISHIMURA RIKI [ にしむら りき ]

he could not care less about his managers scolding you – he covers your group’s songs all the time

and he always nails it… but when he does it with you though, he always goofs around and gives you your time to shine <3

literally knows all the choreos, the boys would be 99% that he knows them better than their own

riki literally threatens you to send selfies of yourself when you have a stage performance

he loves all that cutie accessories they put on you and often ends up stealing eg your hair clips…

btw he saves the selfies too <3 esp when it’s a goofy angle… he can’t help but grin like an idiot at his phone

you made a funny mistake on air? get ready to be teased about it.

kind of off topic but you are literally the industry’s fav couple (yk… you kinda took hyuna and dawn’s spot– okay i’ll go now) bc HOW!! CUTE!! YOU!! TWO!! ARE!! TOGETHER!!

┆彡 SUNGHOON [ 성훈 ]

he’s like “your songs suck” and then proceeds to sing them for the whole day

when he was a mc and your group happened to be performing at music bank he would non-stop stare t you with hearts in his eyes :”)

making lil jokes too (hawaii you?)

during en o’clock he’s known to dance randomly to your songs 😭

but then when you laugh at him bc of that he’s like “well it’s your fault it’s so catchy😕”

he’s so sweet though :( once you had a comeback and due to his busy schedule he couldn’t be with you...

… so he sent you a big (and i mean BIG) bouquet of flowers in colours that matched your cb concept and a cake with a cute drawing!!

also there was a card attached to it. it said “congratulations on your comeback! you did a great job! we loved it!” - enhypen”

but then when you thanked them for it they were like ??? what flowers !!!?

turned out hoon was to shy to admit it was his idea so he just wrote it was them 🥹

┆彡 SUNOO [ 선우 ]

SUCH A SWEETHEART ABOUT IT :((

writes abt u and [gg name] on weverse!! “did you see [gg name]’s new mv? i loved it!”

dancing tiktoks are a must!! especially with you!! engenes love to see him all happy and giggly with you

also does lil dances out of nowhere :”)

buys your albums. literally dates you and yet he’s the biggest fanboy – literally full on collector

he has to have every single one of your pc

(and yes you sneak some stuff for him, and he straight on goes :D)

often recreates your mv/cb makeup and outfits for fun

and you too… and then you have adorable pictures to post and that results in your fans and engenes to lose their mind 🤭

(and because of that people often set up matching pfps of you two <3)

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @julaute ,, @moonacholy

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for going no-contact without warning in perhaps the pettiest way i could?

Context: I(20m) had a falling out with my friend (18m) about 2 years ago. We were in this discord server with our friends, and I woke up one morning to find it gone. I asked him, and he dm'd me and began with "I just wanna say, I mean this respectfully;" followed by THE LONGEST RANT about a bunch of things I did (including not giving feedback on other people's art, dominating the conversation, and being "hard to corral into one topic" which i still don't fully get). He said "everyone else in the server feels the same, you make people really uncomfortable." I asked who had what gripes, so I could apologize, but he said nobody really wanted to hear it and this was a mutual decision. I respected that, cried for a day or two, moved on.

Enter a few months ago. I up-heaved my entire online presence, recreating my friend group from the ground up with people who were more up to my style of interaction, and got better with boundaries. We open a roleplay server for a fandom my old friend liked, and it'd been a few years, so I decided to hit him up, invite him and try to mend some things. I was different after all.

Shit hits the fan, let me keep it brief- a different friend (it/its) makes a comment about eating something that's gonna make it sick later, because it has IBS but it's fuckin hungy and wants pepper poppers. The old friend dms it and says "hey, you shouldn't talk about self harm in this channel, it's gonna make people uncomfortable!!!" Which. first of all, yikes, but secondly, nobody else seemed uncomfortable. I was in a vc with my friends which is where it told me about the dms, and everyone else agreed that yeah, he seemed to be overreacting a little. But I started piecing shit together.

Even though I never talked to most of the people from the old server ever again, none of them reached out to me either. Not even to ask for an apology or where I'd gone. I was just kind of relying on what my friend said to be true. I asked someone from that server, and they said that besides a few gripes mentioned here and there, nobody seemed that uncomfortable with me. In fact, many of them- whom i hadn't spoken to in two years- asked where i went.

I got pissed, and probably could have handled it better, but I didn't wanna see his face anymore. So I removed him from the server, and when he asked me why, all I said was: "I just wanna say, I mean this respectfully;" and blocked him. Part of me still thinks about it. I felt like a hypocrite, and wanted to explain what I'd found out and ask him about it instead of jumping to conclusions, but the deed was done and I figured I'd feel better if I ignored it. I do feel a little better, but I just wanna know if I was the asshole.

What are these acronyms?

[mimizficsz]

Hi could I request a JD x female reader flirting headcanons (before and after they start dating). All his bad pick lines and ways to try and impress her, but they never work lol

Y was this so goddamn short

My brain got stuck in the middle of writing this and I had to pause for 2 days just for it to turn out this short.

JD x reader headcanons : flirting

Warnings: Sexual/Nsfw flirting , Nothing physical tbh. DNI if you’re uncomfortable with this type of stuff, Minors DNI.

-At first he'd probably be all showy when he saw you. You know, trying to get you to see him do cool stuff but he obviously fails...

-After several embarrassing attempts, he got your number somehow (Or however they communicate but I’m pretty sure they have the internet in trolls in some shorts)

-When you get to know him, as in chatting with him more, hanging out with him, randomly in conversations he'd drop stupid pick up lines and either you'd brush it off and ccompletely ignore it, flirt back, or laugh (Maybe don’t do the last option, the first time you did he felt so embarrassed he locked himself in rhonda for 2 days without ever coming out)

-The flirty “jokes” would eventually get more and more meaningful… As in stupid poetry type of flirting. Except he accidentally offends and insults you most of the time while trying to do it.

“..Your voice is so deafening”

“Excuse you?”

Most of the time he won’t even realize it until he’s laying in his bed

-Now when you start flirting back or even flirting with him first, he’s just all… “Huh”, “Am I tweaking right now” , “WHAHRHFHEHFHHS” , and “Oh shit” basically he’d start malfunctioning and have passed out on several occasions.

-Somehow he actually caught you off guard once after trying to make his own pick up lines from what Branch taught him (he forced Branch to help him get better with flirting respectfully)

“I can stay here forever and get lost in your eyes..”

You just stare at him all like “Is this really John Dory?”

Turns into awkward silence once he notices himself staring way too long until one of you changes the subject.

Flirting but you’re dating now :]

-Watch as the flirting becomes so much more fucking explicit

-It’s either you or JD that starts it. Either way, the other would just be in disbelief. “Did he/they really just say that?”

-Overtime the explicit flirting becomes normalized :p but I think that you’d occasionally catch JD off guard.

John was sipping on coffee and you brought up a random topic while brewing your own

“Which name do you like to be called by more? JD, John, John dory, Dory??”

“I honestly don’t know babe.”

“I think John is the best. It’s the most moanable out of all of them”

“PFHFGT— WHAT?”

“What??”

Now he has to clean his shorts because he spat coffee on them.

Or something like,

“I actually hate you so much.”

“Doesn’t seem like it based on what you kept saying last night.”

“JOHN DORY”

[rallentando1011]

Rise Donnie x Plus Sized/Curvy gn Reader Ideas

Content: brief mention of insecurity in oneself, cuddles, intentionally bad flirting, cute fluff

Word Count: 1026

As a man of science and just an overall sensible, thoughtful person, he acknowledges that attraction obviously goes far beyond anything material

Personality, sense of humor, how well the participants click with each other being just a few of the numerous qualifications

However, having established that fact, that was not to say physique was completely nongermane from the topic of attraction

No, certainly not

Physical appearance is the cover of the book; while the best material is inside of the novel, and you shan’t judge a book by its outside, an enticing cover can definitely be admired and appreciated

Especially when that cover has curves like yours

Not to be crass in any regard, but the first thing he gawked at respectfully observed when meeting you was your stunning physicality overall

Your comely smile, your confident stature, those hips, your nice posture, stuff like that

(but seriously he was drinking in your movie star-like looks so adamantly that Mikey had to wave a hand in front of his face, Raph had to yell, and Leo had to bonk him on the head before he was back on this plane of reality)

(Leo was whacked right back, but that’s beside the point)

The point was, by Humboldt, he was not prepared for the Reuleaux triangle that was your waist

Eventually, after seeing you a few times, he managed to externally contain how whipped he was (because, in all honesty, he still admires you and your looks)

However, getting to indulge in learning your personality, reading into you, definitely beats the already auspicious initial impression he had of you

Oh, Galileo, you have a nice demeanor and genuinely enjoyable character?

Yes, please sign him up

Once you two are together, certainly expect him to randomly say the nicest compliments ever, how cool you are, how enjoyable your company is, how much he appreciates you

No prompting, no build up, just the softest, gushiest comments out of the blue

Just sharing the thoughts as they come to mind

He’s definitely the type to drop the worst pick up lines/puns to ever exist, sardonically, of course

But you parry that blade right back

Once while he was tinkering in his lab with you sitting beside him, he abruptly asked if you were Copper and Tellurium

You were puzzled until you pieced together the chemical symbols of those elements respectively - CuTe. That one was bad

You deadpanned before grinning mischievously back at him, asking if he was from Tennessee

Puzzled, he stuttered for a moment before you interjected with “Because you’re the only ten-I-see”

Both of you physically tensed as you said the line, but the awkwardness quickly dissolved into laughter and the exchange of more similar sayings

It was safe to say the pick up line war that ensued meant not much productivity occurred in the lab that day

On Halloween, absolutely expect to have the crème de la crème of costumes

Whether you two are dressing up together or wearing your own attire

Oh, you’re customizing your costume? Are you talking enamel pins, sewing, 3D printing? Whichever or whatever it is he is SO on board and will absolutely volunteer his assistance

That being said, don’t enlist his help unless you’re prepared for it to get needlessly complex, e.x. possibly some mechanics, so many intricate details

It’ll be a project, but the fun times along the way and the killer final product will be worth it

Trust that during the cold months of the year that cuddles will be abundant (insulation in the sewers of New York City shockingly has quite a steep price, so calling you over is easier)

Movie nights, sitting with an arm slung around you, bundled up with your knees ever so slightly resting on his

Working on blueprints or small tweaks in the lab with you swished beside him on his desk chair (Is it a little cramped? Yes. Would he ignore the slight inconvenience of his workspace and ability being hampered for your company? Also yes.)

Sleepovers and late-night cuddles with your back pressed to his plastron, your legs curled with his practically adhered to the back of yours, his arms wrapped loosely around your abdomen, his thumbs soothingly tapping your sides, his chin tucked onto your shoulder

However, cuddles that thorough would only occur on nights where he’s feeling really lonely or tired, like after a long fight, or a mind-melting project, or if it’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other or shown affection like that

Snuggles outside of that domain normally consisted of laying with your sides pressed to each other and that’s it

Or, another typical means of cuddling, both of you curled up on your sides, facing inward, knees and foreheads gently pressed together as you feel each other’s featherlight breaths, soft reminders that the other’s still there

No matter which way you ended up cuddling in, it never failed to send a wave of warm relaxation crashing peacefully over you

Until he fell asleep

Snoring, drooling, kicking, if you name it, he did it in his slumber

Some nights you would wake up to being shoved unceremoniously off of the bed by an innocently sleeping Donatello

Other nights, instead of pushing you away, he pulled you even tighter to him, wrapping you up in each and every limb

His sleeping habits were not suitable for having a companion at his side

You assumed it was because of his dreams or the temperature or something, but all you knew for sure was that every time you slept beside him was its own unique adventure

If you have insecurities or any self-consciousness, whether it be physical or mental, he just doesn’t understand it at first

How could someone so incredible in his eyes not see themself the same way?

But then he considers his own mentality, his own insecurities and doubts, and comforts you any way you need

Words of affirmation? He’s got you

Hugs? He can manage that

Just need him to be there for you? He will be

Bottom line, whatever your size or build may be, he fully embraces and supports you

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Hello! i was wondering if you could write me a req bc i saw your reqs r open (bc I ✨respectfully✨ suck booty at writing)

basically, reader made friends with Ghost while working together on deployment, and became friends, they hang out sometimes bc they live kinda close, blah blah blah. then, Ghost doesn't hear from reader in months (which isn't normal, bc they text like once a month, just to make sure one another is okay when they can). then, one day, in the middle of a meeting Ghost gets a call from an unfamiliar number and almost ignores it until he sees that the area code is the one reader lives in, so he decides to answer it. boom, guess what? the reader is in the hospital, sustained r/srs injuries, and is in need of emergency surgery, and the reader made Ghost the emergency contact (lets also say they traded dog tags bc fluff?)

homie gets all sad bc Reader might die and is in a mini coma, blah blah blah, realized he r in love w the reader, and uh

you can decide whether or not the reader dies and what happens next

i fr scream YIPEEE when i saw your req open, i adore your writing, like top tear, makes me cry but laugh and scream bc how are you so good?! srs, im so jelly of your writing! okay anyways, hope you have a lovely day, you dont have to do this is you dont want or if im jus a silly fucker and mis read and your reqs r closed or sum

Hellloooo! Thank you SO MUCH for the beautiful compliments and for this request <3 I loved it so much I started writing the day you sent it to me. But since it's very emotionally charged, it took me a little while to finish and I'm sorry bout that, and I rly hope you're still around and eager to read it!!! Well, there it is, my take on ur req, hope you like it.

Take me back (to the night we met) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦Word count: 2.1k ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley xf!reader ✦Summary: Simon gets a call from the hospital saying that you are hospitalized, in a coma and in great life risk. ✦ TW and general warnings: sensitive topics, lots of angst, fluff though, death implications, open ending, sad af read at ur own risks cuz i'm crying in my room rn;

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

“Johnny and I make our entrances fast. I clear the way, he goes front, three of you get in by the back and we surround the site to get enough space for the hostages to come out. Any questions?” Ghost asks sternly, as is the usual of his tone especially coming down to work. He was being brutally professional at the moment - if there was rather a sign of an existing Simon, it was gone the moment he got inside the briefing room. Silence follows for the next seconds while the crew seems to be pondering over what he said, analyzing the map over the big round table sticking to the center of the room.

As it is expected, no questions. He nods with his head assuming by the silence that they’re all understood.

“Our orders are to neutralize any individual we find on the site whose face doesn’t match with our hostages, which means we do it fast before they get the chance to call for reinforcements. We don’t wanna make a mess out of this.” Price then continues his own talking, marking X’s over the tactic map and giving the next orders to every one of them. It is when Gaz opens his mouth to say something, that Simon’s phone rings for the third time in a row. He curses mentally - he muted his phone the first time; now, it was vibrating in his pocket. Awkwardly, the vibration itself is heard by everyone in the room and they turn their eyes on him almost instantly.

“Hell.” He curses out in a low voice before shaking his head. “My apologies, Captain.” His voice tries its best not to come out too annoyed, but he fails and it does; despite the timing being inconvenient, no one seems to be bothered. Johnny furrows his brows in concern, and looks over at Price, who seems to have the same, perhaps even more intense, look on his face.

Ghost mentions to pull out and turn off his phone once again, but Price is quick to intervene.

“Riley.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Third time in a row; seems like somethin’ serious, get out and pick up.” He states comprehensively.

Despite being slightly reluctant, Ghost agrees - it must be something serious. What, he couldn't come to imagine - but if for a moment in his life he had something close to a hunch, it was now, and it said he should take that call.

“Alright, one minute. Move on without me.” He nods and leaves the room, phone in hand and a worried sigh leaving his nostrils. When the door closes behind him and he walks a bit further down the hallway, he picks up.

“Yes?”

“Is this Lieutenant Simon Riley?” A feminine voice asks from the other side. Sounds in the background, beeps and small, muffled voices.

“Affirmative, who’s this?” He frowns.

“This is from the Special Forces Manchester Hospital, are you familiar with the name- hmm…” She seems to be taking a couple seconds to read, and continues saying your name. 

He freezes in place.

How long has it been since he last heard this name? How long has it been since you vanished like thin air, disappeared, stopped calling or answering? Busy. That’s what he thought. Busy with work, busy with anything. The two of you had always been two busy people, in a desperate need for time.

For a moment, in those torturous seconds of silence, Simon found himself praying to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, that this nurse wouldn't tell him you’re dead.

“Yes.” It’s all he manages to say, with his eyes running down to the ground in a dead stare. Dead eyes. He gulps, after the despair in his chest makes him speak once again, “Why?”

“Well- sir, you’re her emergency number, we’re calling because we couldn’t manage any family members… She’s in a coma. She was severely injured in combat, and [...]”

His heart stops, like it never did before. He doesn't react, his eyes look around as if he's searching for something - as if searching for his own reaction hidden somewhere within that empty hallway. The weight of your dog tag around his neck seems to be suffocating him now. 

To his silence, the woman continues.

“[...] it’s… currently sort of impossible to predict her state within the next few days, she’s fighting but struggling lots; can you come over?” 

“Yes.” He sharply replies, immediately. His eyes are still on the ground as he closes his eyes, and nods. “I’ll be on my way, yes.” 

“Good.” She replies, and he turns off.

For a moment, he stops to breathe; Ghost wipes his hand over his mouth in a somewhat guilty expression, he should have reached for you. He should have reached you the instant he missed you, your calls. 

“Hell…” He shuts his eyes for a moment, his heart stings like he’s poisoned, it hurts - some sort of pain he swears to god, he probably never felt before. Not when he lost his training dog, nor when he lost friends before - maybe because there were always a lingering possibility between the two of you. It was nothing but a friendship, never had been - but every word, every phrase was full of underlines of sentiment, an immense desire to reveal his interior and spit out the fears he refused to speak about to anyone else.

It's the possibility that kills him now. Even after all this time, not for a second did you cease to exist in his troubled and saddened mind. Suppressed by all the worries and feelings he thought were more important than you.

Not for a moment did he stop thinking about that pleasant end to his career, the retirement he knew he deserved, a house at least isolated from the rest of the world with trees and streams, the snow falling when winter comes and the sun scorching the land. land when summer finally arrived. You, on the front porch. 

You.  You.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

You were leaning back on the sofa, your legs stretched out by the small table that marked the space between you and the balcony railing of his apartment.

The rain fell calmly, some thunder, but few drops. The sound of them falling against the roofs of the houses below the level where you were was echoing in your ears, and he seemed busy drawing patterns among the heavy clouds that covered the sky. 

He gave up trying to find any stars in that rainy sky and found comfort in finding your eyes instead. They were already watching him, almost expecting him to say something, even though the silence between two of you usually speaks volumes more than words itself; you’ve never been good with them, much less him. 

Simon looked down at your dog tag, lying brightly on your bust exposed by the tank top you wore. 

“What do you want to do after retiring?” He asked, his voice calm, his eyes almost closed. He took your necklace between his fingers calmly, and watched your shiny name exposed on the icy metal.

“Gotta be honest with you, can’t see myself retiring.” You replied, with your usual brutal honesty - something he particularly always liked so much about you. “What about you?” 

You don’t mind him, you allow.

“Don’t know.” He was, too, brutally honest. “Seek fuckin’ forgiveness for my sins before I die and end up in hell, I suppose.” 

You laughed.

“Oh, fuck. Gonna die trying to find that, mate.” You admit, raising your eyebrows in another big sip of your beer. “We’re all going to hell… At least we’ll all party there together.” You sounded fun, and your eyes turned into little lines with the genuine smile you let out when noticed that he too laughed at your joke. 

“We’re partyin’? Tell me Johnny isn’t going…”

“He’s my first guest.” You laugh harder.

“Thought that’d be me.” 

“You hate parties.” You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t hate you.”

You silently smiled and looked away. 

“Fair enough.”

When it came to the two of you, there was nothing but connotation.

You could spend hours in that apartment alone with him - and you did. Did plenty of times, and yet, among subtle touches and heartfelt conversations, the end would be the same. Not in his bed, not in yours: by the door, with a rueful look and smile on your face. 

With a held back hug you never gave, a held back kiss you never allowed and an uncertain goodbye before departing on a mission that could take your or his life.

There was a phone call, once.

He called you late in the night. He was drunk. Too drunk. 

“I’m scared.” His voice was low, fluttering, like those cold days he’d be waiting for his dad’s arrival in his bed, under the covers, terrified and alone. “I’m scared. Can- can I see you? Can I come over, please?” 

As you hugged him on the couch in your own apartment now - that huge, strong, self-sufficient man collapsing in your lap like a baby in need of comfort, your heart was never right about anything like it was right about loving him. In that moment you knew it, you were fucking lost, taken, desperately in love.

You departed; you gave him your dog tag, he gave you his. A memory, an attempt. Do not forget me, you said. Don’t you dare forget me if I die, Simon Riley.

“I didn’t.” 

He looks at you with regret. The devices that help you breathe keep him from seeing you fully, whole - but still behind all those hospital beeps and sounds, you're still as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

He wants to go back to the past. Reverse everything he did, redo it from scratch; the first time he saw you, the first time he felt his heart ache listening to you talk about another man, all the times he repressed his feelings and swore not to love you.

“I want to be with you.” He mutters, his eyes emptily stare down your almost lifeless hand resting over his. “After I retire. I want to be with you.” He says again, closing his eyes, shutting them tight like he’s trying his very best to repress the tears he wants so bad to let fall. 

“I fuckin’ need you- I- how did this happen, how did you…” He gasps as the clock ticks, low, the sound of the hands ringing like doomsday inside his head. Every second that passed was one less with you. There are twenty minutes left for you to enter that operating room, and maybe you’ll never leave it again.

His eyes water and his legs give out, he kneels beside the bed, his suppressed voice sounding like a low, painful moan. The cry of a child who lost everything he had; of a confused teenager who would become a soldier, cold, dead inside, incapable of love - who loved you. Who loves you. “I’m scared. I’m scared- I love you.” He’d mutter, praying to all known gods to not take you. Take anything, anything from me; anything but her.

When the doctors came into the room and hurriedly moved your gurney to the ward in a desperate attempt to get your heart working again with the transplant, Simon sat in the waiting room with his face buried in his hands, his legs trembling. and the false hope that you would come back.

That you’ll be on that front porch, resting ever so happily, a bottle of beer in your hand and the dogs running around. He will have gotten rid of the mask and the habit of wearing it and you’ll be happy. You’ll be happy. You’ll be alive.

“God, please.” He mutters. “You’ve taken so much from me, now please, not this.”

He stands up as the doctor calls his name, with his heart on his hand and regret flashing his face off, he just wants another minute with you, another second with you, enough seconds so he can tell you he love you - he had, for most of his life and now, and he will, for the rest of his days with or without you.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met.

[jackie5656]

First Impressions With; James Potter (Marauders)

A/N: Holy shit, hello again. Been a damn minute, six month hiatus yet again. First semester of college kicked my ass, but I can’t get this idea out of my head lately. To anyone who reads and even enjoys, please leave a comment. I love any and all feedback. Missed you guys, sorry I was MIA. :)

Summary: The one where you finally confront the egotistical chaser for Gryffindor, and realize things aren’t always as they seem. 

TW: Descriptions of assault, attempted assault, ect. It’s lengthy asf apologies in advance

       James Potter is undoubtedly the most insufferable, pompous, self-absorbed asshole to ever grace Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

You’re sure of it. 

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you grip the chilled glass of firewhisky between Lilly and Marlene. Watching the raven-haired boy amongst his friends in the Gryffindor common room. It’s a fairly relaxed night, you’d save the real partying for the weekends. Though you’d all survived a particularly difficult potions exam, and found it more than enough means to celebrate with a small get-together. There isn't much to worry about when it came to drinking under school-roof. Seeing as your prefect was one of the many students indulging in the nights activities, nursing his own glass along his friends. Remus is a sandy-haired, soft spoken student you’ve come to know through Lily and Marlene. 

It’s a wonder he even gives the rambunctious Potter the time of day, let alone choose to call him a friend. 

“Head boy, can you believe they’ve considered appointing him head boy for next year? James Potter, having authority over even the prefects, what a load of crap.”

“He’s not that bad, he’s actually quite pleasant at times.” You shoot a look to your redheaded best friend, who’d see the good in even the worst of people. 

“Respectfully, Lilly, if I were to maliciously pour this drink onto your lap, you’d forgive me in a millisecond. I don’t necessarily trust your character judgement.”

“Ever the dramatic, y/n. And I’d forgive you because I love you, but not after ‘accidentally’ spilling my drink on you.” She kisses the crown of your head cheekily before grabbing you and Marlene’s empty glasses, seeking to refill them. You wave her affection off despite the blush of your cheeks. 

And then Potter says something that catches your attention almost instantly. 

“Where do you think the lonely bloke is now? Probably in his dorm, moping about like always.” The fellow sixth year seems to have had half a glass too many, sudden passionate disdain for the Slytherin hadn’t been a topic the entire night. 

“You a fan of his, Potter?” You snap from the couch across him, catching the attention of the burly kid and his friends. The alcohol in your system also the cause of such an abrupt remark.

“Sorry?” He asks through a half-hearted laugh, incredulous gaze revealing the intense hazel in his eyes you hadn’t noticed before. 

“Are you a fan, would you like an autograph or something? I only ask because he’s almost all you talk about. And you can’t seem to leave him alone.” Marlene straightens beside you, sharing a confused look with the rest of the boys sat beside James. Who quirks his head at your irritated tone. 

“And you are?” 

“Tired of your bullshit, leave the kid alone.” You’ve honestly been waiting for give the Chaser a piece of your mind since you saw him trip the sullen Slytherin in the library. You hate a bully, and you’d be damned to stand by and watch. Not to mention his incessant pestering of your kind-hearted best friend, who returns to you with full glasses and a stern look pointed your way. You ignore her silent disciplining, too enveloped in your staring match with the boy opposite you. 

“Just a bit of fun, love. Nothing to get upset about.” Sirius, another acquaintance through your girlfriends, attempts to ease the tension. Setting a hand on James’ tensing shoulder. 

“I don’t think he’s having much fun. Seems a bit one sided if you ask me.”

“But we didn’t. Ask you, I mean.” You cock your head, pleasantly surprised at Potter’s wit. Having mistaken him for the dumb on the spot type.

Maybe it’s not your business, maybe your actions are making an enemy for no reason. But you know the likes of James Potter.Coming from a wealthy, well-known wizard family. And Snape, who was a half-blood, and not a wealthy one at that. At least, you’d assumed from his hand-me-down robes and unkept clothes on the train your first year at Hogwarts. He’d confided in Lily a couple times, and from what you could understand he was simply a quiet boy who was terribly misunderstood. Being a half-blood yourself, you’d fallen victim to some snotty comments from other students. And if Potter’s quarrel with the boy was due to his status and lack of pure-blood, you wouldn’t dare let him get away with it. 

“Maybe we should head up to the dorm-” Marlene starts before James interjects. 

“Nonsense, we were just leaving. Have a wonderful rest of your night Marlene, Lills, and-” He pauses, eyes narrowing in silent challenge. 

“Y/n.” You deadpan, pretending not to notice the anxious expressions of the boy’s friends and those of your own beside you. 

He hums, giving you a once over before finishing the remaining contents of his glass in an embellished swoop. Setting it down with an intensity that makes Remus cringe. “Y/n.” He tests the word on his lips, tongue running over his teeth with a vexed smirk. “Pleasure, truly.” 

“I’m sure.” You quip instantly, taking a particularly large sip of your own drink and tilting your glass in farewell. He scoffs, turning on his heel and heading to the boys’ dormitory without another word. 

“Alright, what the fuck was that?” Dorcas accuses, having silently entered the room amongst the commotion. Her astonishment pulls a laugh from you, and Lilly’s eyes widen tenfold.

“Laughing, she’s laughing? Merlin, you amaze me!” 

“I’m right, aren’t I? He’s mean to that poor boy for no reason. He’s pompous Lilly, thinks he’s better than some of us for being muggle-born. I wont tolerate it.”

“Has he said that? Has he personally told you that?”

“Doesn’t have to.” You cross your arms, defensive.” She only throws her arms up in exasperation as you begin to aid Marlene in cleaning up the room. 

“He’s a bit messy as well.” The dark-haired girl holds up his empty glass, biting back a smile when Lilly smacks her palm to her forehead, exasperated. 

***********

   You’re at an actual party this time when you interact with James Potter again. 

Ravenclaw is hosting after a successful round of midterms has finished. You can finally shake the mid-semester stress away and enjoy yourselves for the few days break you receive from classes. It took longer than expected to enter the house’s commons. Sirius had reassured you all he knew the riddle to get inside, until he in fact, did not know the riddle, and you were all left coughing through a fit of charmed smoke. Until a a soft-spoken second year, no less, walked by and allowed the group of you in. 

“Beautiful, you’ve just earned yourself a glass of firewhisky, love.” Sirius yelps when Remus smacks him upside the head, watching as the younger student slips past the rest of you, past the celebratory atmosphere and straight to the dorms. The common room has been charmed to prohibit any students younger than sixth years of entering, thank Merlin. 

Those from their respective houses usually enter these parties together, so you’re unfortunately grouped in with the marauders. Including James, who avoids any and all eye contact with you. Both of you sporting deep scowls until you’re finally able to disperse. Most older Hufflepuffs are already there, and Slytherin is the last to enter. Waltzing in with bottles of alcohol they most definitely wont share, contrary to the generosity of the other houses. Who all usually trade bottles of their specialty drinks to one another. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink, what do you guys want?” You shout over the music and boisterous laughter emanating from the room, admiring the bronze and blue decorum of the foreign commons. Theres a universal “surprise me” from your girlfriends, and you head off to the drink table with a curt nod. There’s an array of liquors and mixers on the table, and you survey the options before deciding on a simple handful of Hog’s Head brews. 

“I don’t take a girl like you to be so keen of draft beer.” Noah Lyre, a stalky seventh year smiles wickedly beside you. Like most Slytherins, a hint of judgement in his tone. “Here, try some of this, my own concoction.” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You offer a tight-lipped smile, nose scrunching from the bitter smell emanating from the shiny black flask from even a foot away. He takes a step closer, to which you raise your brows. 

“I insist, you’ve got to at least try it.” He moves the flask toward you once more. To which you stick your hand out, irritated with his wandering eyes and unwavering persistence. 

“I said I’m good, thanks.” Is all you say before side-stepping his towering figure and heading back toward your friends. Passing out their respective drinks and taking a few gulps of yours, attempting to brush the creepy interaction off. 

“Everything alright?” Marlene leans close so you can hear her, you offer a reassuring smile and a quick nod. 

“I think this is the part where you ask Sirius to dance, considering he’s been eyeing you since we got here.” You tease, Lilly and Dorcas following your eyes across the room where the marauders are settled. Sharing a round of shots and shaking their heads to rid themselves of the bitter taste. Marlene steps forward at Dorcas’ shoving, shooting the three of you a half-assed glare before headed toward the boys. Amongst them, James hasn’t rid himself of that pitiful look. Wallowing beside his cheerful friends and taking large sips of the drink in hand.You meet his eyes for a split second, heads ripping away from one another’s direction as if the actions singed your skin. 

“Dorcas, look.” Lilly nudges the shorter girl excitedly in the direction of a Hufflepuff on the other side of the room. “It’s that sweet girl from potions who asked me about you, go talk to her!” Dorcas looks terrified, vehemently shaking her head as Lilly grabs her forearm. 

“Absolutely not, I’ll make a fool of myself.” 

“You will not! C’mon, I’ll introduce you.” The red-head beams as she tugs her along. You ignore the burning glare you receive as you ignore her mouthed ‘help me’ as she’s whisked away. 

*******

The atmosphere’s become increasingly chaotic as the night pushes on. You’ve shared a few shots with Marlene and some other acquaintances from your classes. Having just left a rambunctious game of truth or drink before hading into the hall. Not quite near the dormitories, afraid of disturbing any sleeping students, you simply seek a little more quiet. Just near the communal bathrooms, you’re stood admiring a painting of Rowena Ravenclaw. Watching as an eagle swoops by in the background.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” You spin on your heel to see Noah, significantly drunker now as compared to his last appearance 

“I think you’ve got the wrong person.” You cross your arms, taking a couple steps back as he stumbles toward you. 

“No, I don’t think so.” He sneers, same lustful eyes raking over your form. You square your shoulders at an attempt to appear bigger than you are, heart racing at the oncoming severity of the situation. He reaches out to play with a strand of your hair and you fight a gag at the overwhelming smell of liquor leaking from his pores. 

“My friends will be wondering where I am, see you around.” You force out, attempting to shuffle past him when he takes strong hold of your wrist. Grip so tight you lose your breath. He tugs you into his chest, sneering when you struggle in his grasp. 

“Get the fuck off me.” You all but shout, panic shooting through your chest when he backs you into a wall. 

“Where are you going, love? I just got here.” 

“Let me go, I fucking mean it.” You stomp on his foot, crying out when he he pulls you forward and smacks you against the wall. The back of your head coming into contact with the painting. Distantly, you hear the enchanted eagle squeak in surprise. 

Your cries for help are muffled when he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing the air from your lungs as your eyes go wide in terror.

“Just behave, sweetheart. This’ll be so much more enjoyable if you do.” Tears prick at your eyes not only from the inability to breathe but from his revolting words. Faintly, you hear the unclasping of a belt buckle as you writhe and kick with all your might. He’s much larger than you are, though, pressing the force of his entire body weight onto you to cease your fight. With his free hand, Noah enclasps both of your wrists together and forces them above your head and against the cold, hard stone. You feel his lips graze your jaw as bile rises in your throat, mentally preparing for whats to come next before he’s suddenly ripped off of you. 

You collapse to the floor, clutching your throat and gasping for air. The room spins, and you shake your head to come to your senses. It’s dark in this hall, but it’s clear whoever has the Slytherin blonde in his grasp is severely beating the shit out of him. You stumble to your feet, wiping the blurred moisture from your eyes to gather yourself. It’s then you realize the identity of the assailant. Unmistaking the familiar head of dark curls and tall, brooding figure. 

James. Fucking. Potter.

Potter, landing blow after blow, doesn’t stop his assault even as blood (and what looks like a couple teeth) spews from Noah’s mouth.

You try to speak, but your own voice fails you. Strained and cracking from the pressure it’s been under. You cough, trying again with your hands out in front of you. 

“J-James!” Is all you manage, croaked and unfamiliar to your ears. It’s the first time you’ve ever voiced his first name aloud. This must stun him, too, because he pauses his assault to look over his shoulder at you. Noah groans underneath him, and the disheveled Gryffindor spits on the floor next to him in utter disgust. There’s a final blow to his head that makes you wince, and Noah’s out cold. 

James stands, wobbling for just a moment before he straightens. Rolling his neck in a slow circle, strained with effort. You take in his sharp, handsome features, still in pure shock. He takes in your trembling form and immediately snaps his head away. You quirk a brow, confused when he shakes his jacket off his shoulders and holds it out to you. Only when you look down do you realize your blouse has been torn. Quickly taking the fabric and wrapping it around your shoulders with deep embarrassment and misplaced shame. 

Silently, James uncuffs his sleeves and rolls them up toward his elbows. “I’m gonna kill him,” he grabs the unconscious boy by the collar and pulls his arm back to lay yet another punch before you stop him. Hands clasped around his veined forearm and pulling it down. 

“You’ll be expelled!”

“Fuck’s that matter?”

“You’re not thinking straight, look at him. He’s out, he wont be getting up any time soon. It’s fine, it’s over”

“It’s not fine. Nothing about this is fine.” He’s hot with anger, running a hand through his tousled hair and grimacing at the pain that shoots through up his arm. 

“Your hands.” You whisper, to which the boy surveys his own handiwork, covered in blood and cut up from his own rings. He shrugs, eyes narrowing as he notices the uncontrollable trembling of the appendages. You reach out to touch them, but he pulls away. Afraid of any further pain. You pull your hands to your chest, shocked at the red marks already forming all over your wrists. 

“You alright?” He mutters, tone softer than you’ve ever heard before. It’s odd, the sudden quiet of it all. Only the muffled music from the common room to be heard in the background. 

“Better off than him, I suppose.” You make a meek attempt at a joke, nudging the bloodied boy on the floor with your foot. 

To your surprise, three Slytherin boys scurry into the hallway. Stopping short in their tracks with mouths open wide. James steps in front of you without a second thought, wiping the excess blood onto his trousers and nodding his head toward the unconscious kid in front of him. 

“Get him out of my fucking sight.” The trio doesn’t speak, shuffling into action the instant he finishes the command. It’s a struggle for them to lift up the dead weight, but they move fast enough after James releases an exasperated sigh. Right as they exit, James’ friends and your own stop dead in their tacks, trying to process all they’ve just seen. In the other room, the music cuts short, you and James both pull a face in understanding. This’ll be the talk of the school for the next week. 

“We should go. All of us.” Remus announces, the rest of you nod. Your friends are on you in an instant, tugging the jacket tighter around you and checking your body for further injury. You let them hover, knowing they must be in almost as much shock as you. It’s a wordless shuffle back to the dorms, the boys ensuring their bodies shield your own as you make your way through the halls. You separate when you reach the common room of Gryffindor, and James is the last pair of eyes you meet with before sulking into your respective dorms. 

It’s only when you reach your bed do you allow yourself to be overcome with sobs. The weight of all thats happened collapsing in on you. All the girls can do is stroke your hair and whisper idle reassurances. When you finally relax a little, Marlene waves her wand over your head. Casting a peaceful sleep spell to get you through the night. 

**********

   Taking the steps up into the boy’s dormitory has your heart racing. The memories of last night never having left your mind. Despite the lingering, slight hangover you’re fighting, the only real evidence of the assault is the bruising on your neck and wrists, faded now that Lilly’s cast a charm on them. The deep, purple marks, and the whispers of fellow students. Unsurprisingly, word got out about what happened, and there’s been a lot of stares. After a concise meeting with McGonagall, Noah’s been expelled. You overhear in a hushed conversation between a few third-years that he’d walked out of his dorm with his belongings in hand, head hanging low to conceal the developing shiners on his face. A few slow, deep breathes, to ground yourself before knocking on the door. 

It’s Sirius who answers, offering the same sympathetic gaze you’ve been receiving all morning. 

“Hey, love.” He offers simply, studying your anxious form. 

“Hi, I didn’t mean to bother you guys I just...” You fumble over words despite having rehearsed this scenario a million time in the past hour. “I just wanted to return this to James, he lent it to me last night. I also never got to thank him, so please extend my gratitude when you see him.” You extend your arms, offering him the fabric in hand. Expecting him to accept it and bid you farewell. Cringing when you think you sound too formal and, well, rehearsed. 

“Nonsense, you can tell him yourself when he comes back. He was called to Dumbledore’s office but he should be back any minute.” He reads your sullen expression at the mention of potential discipline for an incident he didn’t have to get involved in, but he waves his hand dismissively. 

“Dumbledore knows what happened, might revoke a few points form Gryffindor but Prongs won’t be punished. It was self defense, really.” The raven haired boy comes to realize rambling on about the traumatic events are most likely not what you need to hear right now, so he clears his throat and smiles once again. Sirius Black, of course, does the complete opposite of what you’d expect him to do. Stepping aside to welcome you in. “Come in, come in, Remus just started a pot of tea.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I didn’t mean to intrude I just meant to drop this off and-” 

“Please, we insist. Besides, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“You have?”

“Of course.” There’s a few beats of silence, and you accept the cup of tea Remus offers with a kind smile. Feeling utterly undeserving of such gestures due to your last interaction. Sirius, realizing he’s supposed to be leading the conversation, then continues...

“I simply need to get to know any girl who can make Prongs speechless. And you did, in the common room the other night.”

“About that, I just wanted to apologize. I think I gave off the wrong impression and-”

“You can’t be serious, we loved it!” Sirius interrupts passionately. 

“It was a little harsh, sure.” Remus translates for his dear friend, as usual. Albeit true. James can come off a little...” He searches for the appropriate words, handing Sirius a steaming cup as he continues. “...Brooding, at times. But he means well. He has a good heart, just a little ‘do before you think or say’ kind of guy.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You joke, not unkind.

“See! That there. You’re quite witty, and fiery as well. James needs that in his life!” Your eyes widen at his presumption, Remus winces. 

“What he means to say, is James is quite stubborn. And doesn’t always listen to us when we try to nudge him in the right direction.” The lanky boy recovers, not before shooting Sirius a look. 

“And I do?” You laugh, amused at the absurdity of such a notion. 

“Yes.” They chime in unison, Sirius delighted in the abashed heat that singes your skin. He grips the chair in front of you, and you suddenly feel very small in their kitchenette of their dorm. 

“Prongs, James, is not silenced very often, if at all. He was mute for like, two whole days after your little argument in commons.” 

“Right.” You mutter, shame heavy in your tone. “I see now it was a bit, bitchy of me.” The two are a little taken aback by your language, though you continue anyway. “I didn’t have all the details about the situation. I just felt I had to say something...My mom’s a muggle, and I don’t know. I got defensive at the notion that he was the type of person to see her as less because she isn’t a witch. I made an assumption, a wrong one at that, and I feel terrible about it. Especially after last night.” Keys clatter as you finish, and you’re stunned to see James at the doorway, having heard your entire spiel. 

“Oh, hey” You mutter plainly, horribly embarrassed. 

“Hello.” James swallows, fiddling with the worn wrap covering his hand. “Does it hurt much?” 

“Sorry?”

“The bruising,” he motions to his neck in reference to yours, and you realize Lilly’s charms have completely worn off now. You caress the tender skin with a wince, smiling softly in reassurance to the concerned looks it earns. You take out your wand, aiming to perform the spell once again before James shakes his head. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have to hide what happened. He should live with the shame. Should have kept hitting the bastard.” He mutters the last part to himself, fist closing tightly and then releasing, jaw tensing as he recalls the conflict. 

“I think he got the message, Prongs.” Remus mumbles idly. James only shakes his head, clearing his throat and once again fiddling with the wraps around his hand. 

“You should probably change those. Here, let me help.” You get up from your seat, surprising even yourself as you approach the much taller boy. opening the discarded first aid kit strewn on the kitchen counter, they must have left it out in last  night’s commotion. 

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had worse.” James tries to pull away but you grab his arm and bring it toward you. Eyes full of such sincerity the boy finds his mouth has gone dry. He hadn’t noticed how bad the bruising was until now. Up this close, he can see the discoloration shaping out where Noah’s fingers were. It makes his stomach turn, flashes of the image forever ingrained in his mind. He can only imagine how it must be for you. And despite your strained relationship, James Potter comes to the conclusion that he’s been awfully concerned over your well-being the past 24 hours. 

“Please, it’s the least I can do.” Silently, you unravel the fraying wrap from his hands. 

“You know it’s against school policy, James. Laying your hands on another student. I should expel you.”

“Professor-”

“No matter, I understand the reason behind your actions. While I won’t tolerate any more violence on your behalf, I think you did what was...necessary.” 

James only nods, eager to go back to his dorm hide under his duvet. It’s all been so overwhelming. The stares, the whispers, the shaky feeling he’s had all say. Knowing you must be experiencing it tenfold. 

“Now, please Mr. Potter, straight to your dormitory. And try and look as though I’ve actually disciplined you.”

James snaps out of his thoughts when you flinch. In his daze, he’d reached out toward your neck. And although you’re certain he’d never harm you, you’ve been avoiding any physical touch since the incident. 

“Sorry, so sorry.” He manages dumbly, avoiding the not so subtle gawking of his friends. They know the boy better than himself, and know when he’s smitten over someone. Fuck, had he really just thought that? 

“It’s alright. I’m still a little jumpy I guess.” You say plainly, not quite gathering the weight of your words until you notice their collective reactions. You hate it, the pitiful gazes. Looking at you as if one wrong move could break you. 

“Sirius, we have to go do that thing.” Remus grabs the former by his arm, pulling him past you and James and toward the door. Sirius, still staring at the pair of you, clutches onto any furniture that will halt his friends actions. 

“No, there is nowhere we need to be, I’m perfectly fine right here!” He shouts in a panic, seemingly enamored with the two of you. 

“It’s very urgent, the thing we need to do. See you both at dinner.” Remus hurries his farewell, tugging a pouting, squirming Sirius all the way. 

“It was just getting good!” You hear from down the hall before James shuts the door with his foot. 

“What’s gotten into them?” 

“You should know they are almost always that insufferable.” James deadpans, though there’s a faint fondness in his tone. You know he loves them much more than he’d like to admit. It’s endearing. You've just referred to James Potter as endearing...What a bizarre 24 hours. 

“I don’t think I’ve said thank you yet.” You laugh, despite the absurdity of it all. 

“No need to thank me.” He only shakes his head, watching as you pour a small container of bewitched ointment onto a cotton ball. It smells strongly of herbs and peppermint, and the muscled, supposedly tough sixth year pulls his hand away before you can dab it onto his knuckles with a small grunt.

“C’mon, I haven’t even started.” It’s the first time in a while he’s seen you genuinely smile since everything happened. You like to tease James Potter, and he likes it too. 

“Smells awful, I’ll get Remus to find a healing spell.” 

“You need topical medicine, not a spell that will ware off.” You tug at his arm once again, both shocked at the force of it, so strong he has to take a step forward. Close enough to feel the warmth emanating from you. He’d probably be able to smell your hair too, if the horrid ointment was capped. He’s once again taken aback by his own longing thoughts. Just two days ago, Potter considered you an enemy. 

He sucks his teeth when you begin to apply the medicine, doing your best to be gentle. You pause, waiting for his signal to continue. 

“Didn’t tell me it was gonna sting.”

“Would you have let me put it on if I did?” You shoot him that incredulous look again, and James has to bow his head so he can manage to speak. You’re much too intense for him to bear, he thinks. And he then understands how much trouble these feelings will get him in. 

“There is a need. To thank you, I mean.” Unable to control the shudder of your shoulders when he releases a deep, pained breath from your work. Hoping he hasn’t noticed. 

“Y/n, I already said-”

“James,” There’s his name on your lips again. And it seems the two of you recognize its foreign nature once more. “If you hadn’t stepped in he could have-” You stop yourself, swallowing hard to fight the nausea. “You and I both know what could have happened. I didn’t...I haven’t taken that gesture lightly. Let me appreciate that.” You’re stern albeit no less kind as you begin to re-wrap his knuckles. Skin grazing his as you go. He’s silent, staring so reverently it takes your breath away. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” He whispers, and you swear you see. For only a millisecond, James Potter’s eyes avert to your lips. And you think he might kiss you. And you think you might want him to. He pushes a strand of hair from your face, leaning even closer to you. You blink, slow with a reminder breathe, as you realized you hadn’t been the last few seconds. His hand trails down to your jaw, gently tilting your head up toward him. You let your lids closing, awaiting his lips on yours at any moment.

“We should put ice on it.”

“What?” Your eyes shoot open, and James has just most definitely fucked that up.

“Your neck. There could be swelling.”  He attempts to caress the skin there, but you step back, ears burning hot with embarrassment. Why did you think he was gonna kiss you, why did you want him to?

“Oh, sure. Right.” You watch as he fumbles about to the fridge, grabbing an ice pack and wrapping it in a paper towel before outstretching his hand toward you. Internally cringing when you take et instead of allowing him to place it on you. Merlin, I’m an idiot.

“Dinner. We should go eat.” You collect yourself, moving toward the door when James nods hurriedly. 

“Right, dinner. I’m starving, actually” He fumbles horribly, wincing at the crack in his voice. “I’ll meet you down there.” You nod, reaching for the door when he stops you. 

“Y/n?” You halt instantly, turning on your heel in hopes you haven fucked up as royally as you assume. The chaser scratched the back of his neck with a pained smile. “Thank you for returning the jacket. And, uh.” He gestures with his hands in reference to the bandaging. All you manage is a tight-lipped smile. And he swears he sees a hint of moisture pricking at your eyes, mouth agape to say something, anything. But you’re out the door before he can even blink. Not hearing the flood of curses escaping his mouth after kicking the kitchen bin in a fit of anger, clutching the now throbbing foot and hopping around the room like the bumbling idiot he is. 

***********

Dinner is weird. Really weird. Sirius insists you and your girlfriends sit with the marauders. Taking you by the shoulders and sitting you right beside a silent James. Marlene and Lilly were delighted, having always wanted to sit by the boys. Though with your not-so-secret disdain for Potter had always made meals a little weird before. You’d talk mostly to Dorcas, who was always eager for good conversation if it meant she could listen and not have to talk as much as you did. You understood her quiet nature more than the other girls, and often borrowed whatever book she’d be willing to lend you in leu of shared analysis. 

But now, Dorcas was looking between you and James with a shit-eating smirk. Much like that of Remus beside her, who pretended to be more interested in the book in hand rather than the two in front of him. Pushing the food around on their plate idly, whatever bites taken were chewed slow and with deep thought. 

“This is nice,” Sirius chimes cheekily. “All of us, eating together. I think we’ve found ourselves an established group. Don’t ya think, Prongs?” 

“What?” The boy voices beside you, much too loud to be appropriate. You’re both still getting stares from some of your peers. Although most of the buzz of what’s happened having worn off, now you’re seen sitting right beside one another. Bandages and all. 

A couple of Slytherin girls make their gossip particularly obvious across the room, one of them pointing at you as the rest giggle along. You sink impossibly closer into your seat. 

“Ignore them.” James mutters, practically seething as he stares them down. “They have half a mind to start double checking the locks on their doors. Seeing as that’s the type of boys they have lingering about in their house.” He finishes dryly, doing a double take when he finally glances your way. Fists clenched in rage once more as you blink away tears. 

“He’s gone now, for good.” Marlene reassures, flicking Sirius on the forehead when he does little to conceal his searching of your teary eyes. 

“How’s it feel, the bruising. You think the ice helped any?” James asks for what is likely the tenth time since you’ve sat down. Gently knocking your arm away that tries to stop him from taking hold of your chin. Surveying the discolored skin with a deep frown. 

“Probably in the same condition as it was ten minutes ago. And the ten minutes before that.” Black deadpans, yelping when Lily kicks his shin from under the table. Smiling sweetly when you and James jerk your heads toward the commotion. 

“Let’s change topics, yeah? Remus, how’s that book you’re reading there.” The sandy-haired boy is mid bite when she asks, mortified all the attention has turned to him. 

“Lovely,” is all he manages, swallowing thickly. 

“I’m gonna head up to bed.” You announce, tossing your napkin onto your barely touched plate of food with a feigned smile. They all straighten, offering a chorus of soft- spoken ‘goodnights’ as you rise from your seat. 

“I’ll come with you.” Lilly moves to get up, but you wave your hand. 

“No need, I’ll manage. See you up there.” You gather your things before heading toward the large doors of the great hall. Pulling up the collar of your dress shirt as you feel a few pairs of eyes follow you. 

James scrambles from the table without a word, hot on your heels as you both exit. 

“Y/n, wait up. Y/n!” You cease your movements, so sudden James has to steady himself on your shoulders. You look around, glaring at a few fourth years as they gawk at you. Whispering all the way. You pul your shoulder back to leave his grasp, guilt overcoming you when a flash of hurt overcomes his features. 

“People are watching, Potter.” You mutter, paranoid eyes darting around you. James stiffens, pained by your sudden formalities. 

“So what? Let them say whatever they’re gonna say. We know what happened.” He crosses his arms, brows taught with tension. 

“It’s not that easy for me.” You defend, fiddling with your collar once again. 

“I told you to stop covering that,” James reaches out to adjust the fabric himself. Further irritated when you pull his hand away. 

“They aren’t going to spin this on you, James. You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand, I think I’m well aware of whats gonna happen. This is all gonna blow over, and this school will be better off without that piece of shit.” 

“No!” You blench at your own volume, shaking your head before continuing. “You want to know what they’ll say Potter? That I asked for it.” James steps back, disgusted at the notion. 

“Why on Earth would they say that?”

“Because that’s what some people say to make themselves feel safer, it’s easier to blame me than him.” You shrug, throat tightening at the realization. 

“Where’s this coming from?”

“There was a note, in the girls lavatory. Dorcas tried to throw it away so I wouldn’t see but, I did.” James studies your face, awaiting you to continue with soft eyes. “Some Slytherins are saying I made it up, since Noah’s such a good Quidditch player, was gonna be captain next year.”

“Good at Quidditch player, he’s a beater thats hit three of his teammates because he can’t aim.” It forces a strained chuckle from you, and you only shake your head. 

“Doesn’t matter James, they’re saying I got him expelled for Gryffindor’s team because we’re-” You stop yourself, somehow even more uncomfortable. 

“We’re what?” He cocks his head when you motion between yourselves, sighing at his confusion. 

“That we’re together, James.” 

“Oh.” He scratches his nose, shuffling through the beats of awkward silence. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well it’s all bullshit, why are you letting it get to you?” You practically draw in on yourself at his words, fresh tears begging to escape your eyes at his unbeknownst cruelty. 

“Right, it’s all bullshit. You’re right, I should just let it go. We can get back to our normal routines and everyone will see it isn’t true.” You attempt to turn away from him, but he grabs the fabric of your robes. 

“I’m sorry,” he laughs despite himself. “Am I missing something here?”

You falter, opening your mouth to respond but not quite sure what to say. He looks genuinely distressed, and you make one last attempt at extending an opportunity. “I don’t know, are you?” He’s silent, searching your face for answers you can’t give him. Panicking at the though of losing contact despite all you’ve been through. 

“Did you mean what you said about me. In the dorms.” 

“James, I told you-”

“No, you didn’t. Do you really believe I think you’re less than me because you’re a half-blood? You really think that matters to me?”

“No, not anymore, anyway.” James smirks, stepping closer when your brows furrow in confusion at his sudden mood change. 

“So I’m not as pompous as you thought I was?”

“You most definitely have a big ego, Potter.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” He takes your jaw in his hold, eyebrows raised in teasing inquiry. You lick your lips, swallowing thickly and avoiding his eyes. 

“What d’you think they’d all say if I kissed you, then?” You almost cough, choking on your own saliva at his words. The cheeky bastard just keeps smiling, basking in your flushed demeanor. 

“Oh eat slugs, Pott-” Your interrupted with his lips on yours, lifting off of your heels to make it easier for him. James, insufferable as always, is grinning the entire time. 

“Yes! He made the first move, Remus. You owe me two galleons-” Sirius is cut off by his own whimper. What must be the lot of your spying friends shoves him into the hallway so he’s the only one caught, in which he stands speechless under your glares. 

“A sweet little first year lost her cat, you guys seen it by any chance? No matter, I’ll keep looking for it. Bloody kids always losing their pets.” And Sirius, the dope that he is, begins to make kissing noises in a meek attempt at recovery. Feigned grumbles of “here, kitty.” Echo down the hallways before you hear his fleeting footsteps. 

You press your forehead into James’ chest, utterly embarrassed and admittedly exhausted. What a bizarre 24 hours

[lovelyjasmari]

Pomefiore Endnote - Perfectionism, Apathy and the True Tragedy of Book 5

Warning: Long post and pic heavy.

So…this is something of a continuation of my last twst reaction post, where I analyzed the Absolutely Beautiful dance video. I ended the post by saying that the true tragedy was not that NRC Tribe lost but that Vil could be convinced he was an inferior performer compared to Neige. Now I’m going to expand on that…in excruciating detail. XD

In all seriousness, though, I'm not really sure if I'd call this an analysis in the traditional sense. Maybe more like a long-winded rant based on canon observations. But all the same, I’ve been grappling with this for the last year and a half since when Book 6 first dropped in EN. I’ve wanted to share my thoughts for a long time but decided against it because I acknowledge how contentious this topic is in the fandom and I prefer to keep my online space as drama-free as possible. I also didn’t want anyone to get the idea I’m attacking others when at most, I’m just being critical. 

But with the new story update imminent and it looking like it will be Pomefiore-centric, I’ve come to the realization that if I don’t share this soon, I never will. My timing is admittedly ass but I think it would be worse if I share this AFTER the update and you’re about to understand why.

So before we dive in, disclaimer. This is going to cover the end of Book 5 and the first few chapters of Book 6 and my in-depth opinions on both. There will be mentions of trauma/mental illness and some very blunt (but honest) Rook criticism. But please keep in mind, that while I have my own interpretation of the twst characters and their respective arcs, I am not Yana and ultimately, my opinions are just that. Opinions. Everything I say is subjective at best but a lot of what’s coming up is based on a blend of canon observations as well as my own specific, personal experiences as someone with very similar life experiences as Vil and has been dancing for most of her life.  

Still, these are just opinions and I have no intention to offend anyone. But if you don’t like reading negative things about Rook or take issue with this general way of thinking, I HIGHLY advise you to ignore this and respectfully (or quietly) agree that we disagree.

When I wrote the greater bulk of this, it was around when Book 6 dropped in EN. A year has passed since then and I’ve had time to think more about my opinions here and, to a greater extent, how I feel about Book 5. This may sound strange but I feel that Book 5 is both the best and worst part of twst’s main story to date. I really like how it touched upon something that isn’t really isn’t talked about much; how we as a society both admire beauty but also vilify it. Vil’s primary dilemma is how he is wrongfully villainized for his beauty, wealth, and harsh personality, despite subverting expectations of cruelty at every turn. Ironically, when the fandom mischaracterizes him as vain, cruel, classist, racist and the like, they are falling into that same literary trap. Proving the point of his arc.

And as much as I hated the ending from an emotional point of view, I actually love it as well, ironically for reasons that might not have been intentional. What I hated, mostly, was the fandom’s response. There was a great opportunity here for some deep discussion regarding society’s views on beauty, how constant trauma causes us to internalize false perceptions of ourselves, and the rather fascinating/dangerous dynamic Vil has with his vice dorm leader. Instead, any interesting discourse has been lost in all the misinterpretations of Vil. To the point I wonder if we all actually read the same story. I’m disappointed in the fandom, but somehow not surprised either.

But regardless, Rook’s actions were extremely disquieting but not for the reasons you might think. There was nothing wrong with his decision but the way he went about it and how he (and Vil) tried to justify it really left such a nasty taste in my mouth and I gotta talk about it to get it out.

First I just want to commend Vil for his level of maturity and rationality regarding his overblot. Even when it was happening, not once has he tried to justify his actions and in fact it was his own guilt at his potential wrongdoing that ultimately caused it. His fear that in a brief, desperate attempt to be seen as not a monster, he became exactly that. Throughout Book 5, it is implied that Vil already sees himself as a villainous person and internalizes that image of himself almost with pride. But despite this false perception, his actions have always proven the opposite and it’s clear that Vil has always valued being altruistic, determined and just. And his guilt when he failed to meet his own standards was beyond compare.

I feel that this guilt sets Vil apart from the other overblots thus far. Most importantly, he apologized of his own volition and wasn’t forced to. That alone makes him stand out among the overblot characters and, to my mind, makes him the most compelling of them all. If I’m being completely honest, out of all those who have overblotted thus far, Vil has been the LEAST problematic even before his overblot. And the one instance where Vil displayed any “cruelty” beforehand is EXTREMELY subjective. (his treatment of Epel) But the fact that Vil has been the least problematic overblot student so far also makes him the most tragic. And makes what’s about to happen next all the more disturbing.

Interestingly enough, Jamil is correct about this but for the wrong reason and here comes the first point. There was no indication that the audience was anything but enthralled with NRC Tribe. And if Vil or any of the others made significant mistakes, because of Vil’s fame, I’m certain they would have been pointed out by magicam netizens. With the recent release of the Absolutely Beautiful mv over on twst jp, we now also have a visual to go off from. 

I talk about this more in a previous post but basically, yes, NRC Tribe’s performance wasn’t perfect, but based on what I saw, I would have expected A LOT worse considering the circumstances. The fact is all evidence points to the NRC boys giving a wonderful performance made all the more remarkable by the fact they were still able to perform after dealing with Vil’s OB not too long before. And the audience clearly thought so too if they were only one vote away from victory. 

To add to this point, when the other characters comment on the NRC Tribe’s performance, they make no mention of any noticeable errors. And when Crowley laments their defeat later, again, there’s no mention of any errors. Considering that Ambrose was pretty pretentious about RSA winning, I'm sure he’d mention that, too. 

Even further, one thing you learn from being on stage is that your audience rarely notices mistakes unless they are extremely obvious. You, as the performer, might notice, but you quickly learn not to draw attention to your errors and keep it moving. Now of course, the NRC characters could be biased because they want to defeat RSA. But considering the nature of a lot of them, I doubt they would lie so flagrantly. Especially Jack who is pretty no-nonsense even with the people he likes. And Malleus who seems pretty difficult to impress. So if their commentaries are to be believed, this shows that any errors made by the NRC Tribe were not noticeable. 

That Vil would think otherwise speaks to something far deeper and far more insidious. Stick a pin in that; we’ll come back to it soon enough.

Vil then goes on to explain to the boys that Neige and his friends worked just as hard and had their own struggles. That Neige grew up in an improvised environment and had to juggle acting obligations with household chores and helping out the dwarves. Again, it is extremely commendable that Vil is able to acknowledge this about this rival. It shows that his contempt for Neige was never as simple as “boo hoo people think he’s more beautiful than me” and he at least respects Neige’s efforts even if this explanation once again falls flat. 

Firstly, narratively speaking it doesn’t make sense that Vil is just finding out about Neige’s backstory now (likely from Rook) because I feel like he should already be aware. In fact, all through Book 5, I thought that he did know but didn’t care. Honestly, Neige’s backstory shouldn’t matter to Vil anyway and surprisingly, it’s Ace of all people who explains why.

Neige’s struggles might matter to his fans but at the end of the day if Neige cannot perform better than Vil, then that’s his own fault. There are many artists out there who have to deal with similar struggles but come out as phenomenal performers and yet Neige’s “best” basically consists of the twst equivalent of this meme. Precious, but cannot compare to all the sweat and tears Vil and his team were put through. 

There’s actually an interesting analysis floating around this hellsite about how Neige’s childish performance was actually an incredibly manipulative tactic and could have been intentional if he were a different character. I’m not gonna link it cause I don’t want to bring any heat to the op. But I will say that while I don’t think Neige intended to manipulate the audience with his cuteness, in the end, it did indeed work in his favor. And the fact that Vil thought to train Epel to weaponize his cuteness to defeat Neige indicates that he’s already no stranger to seeing such underhanded tactics in the industry he works in. In his beansday vignette, Vil mentions an actor he initially admired destroying one of his stage outfits. If Neige weren’t presented as so naive and twisted from a traditionally “good” character, his choice regarding his performance could be regarded as deliberate. Which is why Vil lamented that he and his team had been “outplayed”.

Back on topic, what I took away from this was that, once again, Vil’s hard work and determination count for nothing because of things he cannot control. Because he was born to wealth, because he didn’t have the same hardships, he doesn’t deserve the same consideration or sympathy as Neige. And his wealth and beauty once again put him in the position of villain to Neige’s hero. It’s a textbook case very common in media, like Sharpay opposing Gabriella in High School Musical. But what’s worse is that from all that we’ve seen of Vil, he could coast on his wealth, beauty and father's fame if he wanted to. 

Instead, he chooses to work hard and have his accomplishments come from his own merit. When anyone else in his situation could easily choose the opposite. And just from a personal standpoint, if I practiced day and night for a dance competition and ended up losing to someone under my level simply because they were cute and disenfranchised, I would feel extremely insulted. At the end of the day, Ace is correct and whatever struggles Neige and his team had, they were still inferior performers. 

And to add to this point, I believe that at some point Vil KNEW this even AFTER his OB. Despite his earlier anguish at never being able to perform innocent cuteness like his rival, once his mind was clearer, he was able to see that NRC Tribe’s performance was still technically better. He was able to see how the audience responded to Neige and still believed in himself as a better performer. I say this based on another scene earlier in book 5. 

Vil was undoubtedly in a very emotionally vulnerable place right after his overblot. He went to great lengths to conceal the aftereffects before going on stage to the point he collapsed as soon as he was alone. After going so long trying to hide them, his darkest, ugliest emotions were laid bare to his teammates and to himself. Manifesting in the worst way possible. And as a professional performer, if any errors were made, he would have been painfully aware of them.

And yet, despite having just dealt with the darkest moment of his life, Vil was still able to stand upon the stage until the very end and give the best performance he could. Against all odds, before a world that has wrongfully perceived him as evil and hideous for most of his life.

And despite knowing that Neige possesses all that he never can, it is strongly implied that Vil still chooses to vote for his own team. Meaning he saw the appeal in Neige’s performance and STILL knew that he did better. And I’d like to believe that even if Vil was aware of Neige’s backstory, he would have still made the same decision. It’s easy to be beautiful when everything is right and perfect in your world. But being able to smile even when you’re struggling and your heart is breaking is even more beautiful still. 

Sadly, Vil isn’t likely to realize this anytime soon and will continue to see his own mental struggles as not as valid or “ugly.” Now back to that original pin of thought, Vil will likely continue to believe that he didn’t deserve to win the VDC despite all evidence to the contrary. He’s likely to continue internalizing the false villainous image of himself as well. And for that we now must get to the crux of this matter.

At first glance, this statement doesn’t seem like much but when you look deeper, and look back at some of Rook’s own actions, this comes off as incredibly hypocritical and cruel. As we have seen from Vil’s backstory, he has dealt with untold hardships as well. But Vil’s anguish is more internalized than Neige’s and it’s very unlikely that he has ever really been open about how dehumanizing and hurtful his treatment has been. 

And from an outsider’s perspective, his problems aren’t as dire anyway. It’s just like Vil said, his life has been quite different from Neige’s. But mental trauma doesn’t know demographics and can affect anyone. The fact is what Vil has gone through is extremely traumatizing and comes from nothing beyond people wrongfully vilifying him for his beauty. Projecting their insecurities onto him from a very young age. It’s clear that what Vil has dealt with has fundamentally altered how he sees himself. 

But at the same time, what do you think would happen if Vil WAS more open about his frustrations? The dehumanizing effect and the bullying? The typecasting and prejudice thrown his way? And the feeling that nothing he does will ever be enough to break free from his villainous mold? What would happen if Vil were to be open about ANY of that? He would be mocked and shamed and perceived as shallow, petty and crying about nothing. Lowkey how many in the fandom already see Vil anyway. We as a society sadly don’t take mental illness as seriously as we should but when celebrities deal with it? It quickly becomes meme fodder and nowhere is this more obvious than on stan twitter. We are all guilty of feeding into it, whether we’re honest about it or not. 

Ironically, Vil’s mental struggles is one of the things that would make him more “relatable.” But the truth is that people would never accept that because society has a long history of trivializing the mental issues of celebrities because they seem so far removed from normal people. And then being surprised pikachu faced when they do something drastic to themselves. So Vil internalizes all of it because he knows he can’t be open about it. 

A person like him simply can’t be open about his hardships but HERE is the kicker: neither can Neige. He also has an image of perfection to uphold so it is likely he is also internalizing mental struggles of his own. Living and caring for seven others can’t be easy in addition to trying to grow his career. And if his deeper origins are anything like his Disney counterpart, how he came to live with the dwarves must have been traumatic as well. 

But here’s the difference: from Rook’s perspective, he is “better” at internalizing those ugly emotions than Vil is. After all, Neige is able to overcome all his struggles and still smile and not give hints to them, but when Vil finally buckled under all of his own trauma, we see what happened. 

There’s also the fact that since Rook and Neige attend different schools, Rook doesn’t have as close a seat to any of Neige’s more personal troubles. So it’s likely easier for Rook to project his own ideas of beauty onto Neige because from his perspective, he is perfect. He is beautiful. He is pure. Like the legendary singing princess Rook so reveres. He isn’t plagued with any of the ugly emotions that caused Vil to overblot. And if Neige DOES have ugly feelings or ugly trauma responses, Rook isn’t privy to them, so they clearly must not exist. 

I genuinely believe that THIS is what Rook meant when he stated Vil’s performance wasn’t as beautiful as Neige’s. I know he mentions another reason at the end of book 5 but in my mind, they are both one and the same. Whatever technical difficulties NRC Tribe had, they were still polished enough to garner enough votes that it was only Rook’s flawed ideology that sealed their fate. And throughout book 5, Rook is hinted at being aware of Vil’s internal struggles and yet still chose to stay silent. He frequently saw that Vil was struggling but tried to justify his silence by saying it wasn’t his place to interfere. 

But that is also untrue because we’ve seen time and again Rook is more than willing to stick his nose in Vil’s businesses. His labwear vignette is the most obvious example but there are plenty of others. In Book 6 Rook admits that his decision to go to the Isle of Woe was fully a selfish one. Leaving Pomefiore without leadership and potentially falling into chaos (the only dorm to have no clear leadership at all during the crisis) simply because he wanted to give Vil skin products that he really didn’t need. A few days without them wouldn’t do that much harm and Rook essentially placed Epel, Yuu and himself in great danger for a reason far more shallow than anything Vil has done in the name of beauty. 

He also admits that he would have been willing to drink the poisoned juice Vil gave to Neige for again, a pretty shallow (and extremely twisted) reason. If he’s willing to do that, he is more than capable of intervening in other matters on Vil’s behalf. And later in book 6, it’s revealed that Rook was originally a Savannaclaw student but made the very unprecedented decision to transfer to Pomefiore in part due to his fascination with Vil and desire to further study beauty under him. So Rook had EVERY opportunity to step in regarding his overblot. Even if Rook couldn’t be his “savior”, the fact that Vil would see that he at least had support could have gone a long way. 

But Rook’s silence is rather in keeping with his character and his own ideas about beauty. I find this quote very ironic based on how he and Vil are frequently misconstrued. The Pomefiore dorm leaders' views on beauty appear to be the opposite of each other. 

Vil can be extremely strict, harsh and can come off as critical at times, but he is never harder on someone than he is himself. He has shown time and again that he sees beautiful potential in anyone. And Vil is more than willing to share the spotlight with his NRC Tribe; build them up from scratch and give each of them the chance to show off their potential. Likely because he knows all too well what it means to be in the shadow of someone else. 

Even further, when we look at the dichotomy of a villain versus a hero, the main difference is how they respond to their personal pain. A villain takes their pain and says “the world hurt me so I’m gonna hurt the world”. While a hero says “the world hurt me and I’m not going to let it hurt others”. Up until his overblot, Vil has been the latter of these examples. He wants the best for those around them and while his methods might be difficult to understand, they always bear results. Vil can honestly see beauty in anything, even if he has to coax it out in his own way. 

Rook’s views on beauty however, all seem to be based upon the superficial and the evidence can be found in his Halloween vignette. There, he explains further how he grew to adore Neige and based on what he said, it sounded more like obsession than actual reverence. There’s also hints to this in his most recent birthday vignette as well. His ideas seem to be very fantastical, far removed from reality and so obsessive to the point that it actually affects his ability to be a good person. Such an obsession can sometimes make people oblivious to the world and in Rook’s case, often cause him to act out in ways that border on problematic. 

In his fixation, he stalks Leona and Jade, says some weirdly otherist shit to Malleus, harasses and assaults Ruggie, and places ridiculously high standards on both Vil AND Neige that rob them of their humanity. Rook saw firsthand how deeply Vil’s insecurities ran. He heard Vil cry and scream out how ugly he felt. He saw Vil’s anguish and despair firsthand and seeing all that, still chose to punish him because Vil’s lack of confidence made him unable to respond to his trauma in a beautiful way. Or at least in a way he could deem as beautiful based on his vapid description of the word. 

Rook will likely never be privy to any ugliness Neige has displayed so for him, the fantasy remains intact. And in chasing that fantasy, he betrays not just Vil, but his other teammates as well. Then has the audacity to try to justify it with bullshit ideology and sadly, because of Vil’s low opinion of himself, Rook succeeds. Vil holds Rook’s opinion so highly that he is able to take advantage of that and compel him (and the others) to see his point of view. And believe it or not, in chasing that fantasy, the NRC Tribe members were not the only ones Rook hurt. 

Neige might have been happy to have won but he was essentially rewarded for an inferior performance and robbed of an important lesson. One far more valuable than any “lesson” Vil had to learn. As mentioned before, even with all of his hardships, if what we saw in book 5 was the best Neige could do, that still means he is not as good a performer as Vil. If cuteness, nostalgia and warm fuzzy feels are the only thing Neige can offer, he could easily find himself struggling to remain in the entertainment industry as he ages. Not unlike many other former child stars in real life. 

Losing the VDC could have been a major wake-up call to Neige that if he wants to continue acting, he has to do better. People might not take him seriously when he’s still doing the cutesy bullshit ten years from now. But because he won, this will likely never cross his mind. Neige will learn nothing. 

Now before anyone begins writing up their comments about how Vil verbally stated that Rook was right, I’d like to bring up one final point: Vil agreeing with Rook was another trauma response. Internalizing Rook’s response because it is so in keeping with all he has been made to believe about himself, about Neige, and how it has all now been “confirmed” by his overblot. From his point of view, Rook has no reason to lie to him. 

But just because Vil states that Rook was correct, does not mean that it’s true. Despite being one of the more positive characters in the game and being twisted from a “good” character, Rook is just as morally grey as everyone else in the twst cast and just as capable of dubiousness. And this would not be the first time something like this has occurred between Vil and Rook. Once again, I bring up Vil’s labwear vignette. Particularly this exchange here:

Okay, so beyond the general tactlessness of telling Vil he’s gaining weight in spite of knowing how such a statement would affect him, what Rook is basically suggesting to him is that he cannot trust anyone but him. Not even his own senses. That for all of his perceptiveness, Vil is incapable of seeing himself accurately. Though he initially does not believe it, Vil eventually does accept  Rook’s statement despite knowing it was bullshit twenty seconds before. 

Later on, Vil mentions to Trey that Rook’s only crime is being too blunt and perceptive. It’s true that having another point of view is important at times, but the level of trust Vil has in Rook’s opinion can also be dangerous if he can convince Vil to doubt himself so easily. Theirs is an interesting dynamic but it also has potential to be extremely toxic and detrimental to Vil. At best, Rook gives him useful insight and pushes him to be the best he can be. But at worst, Rook contributes to Vil’s insecurities, enables his more toxic tendencies and his fawning of Neige feeds into his obsession to be the fairest one of all in the worst way possible. Rook can’t be completely oblivious to this. It would be such an easy thing for him to take advantage of Vil’s doubt in himself and value/dependency on his opinion. 

Which is exactly what Rook does. As much flack Vil gets in this fandom for being critical and harsh to others, he never criticizes someone harder than he will criticize himself. This is a person who has grown up in the spotlight and has had to maintain an image of perfection for most of his life.  A person who gave up one of his favorite condiments because of the damage it caused to his skin. A person who has so deeply internalized the villainous image people have projected on him that he wears it almost as a badge of honor. And because he holds himself to such a high standard and already internalizes a lot of toxic beliefs about himself, it makes perfect sense that Vil would agree with Rook. In his current way of thinking, Vil has no reason to disagree with Rook because from his point of view, Rook has always been honest to him and his overblot already proved he was unworthy of victory anyway. 

Of course Vil must be gaining weight. How could he possibly be objective regarding himself? How vain he must be. And how could Vil possibly be objective regarding his VDC performance and still vote for himself after such an ugly trauma response? He can’t trust his judgment, he can’t even trust his own senses. How arrogant and pathetic Vil must be if he can still vote for himself in good conscience after witnessing the pure wholesomeness of Neige Leblanche. Someone who would never overblot. Thankfully, he has Rook to humble that arrogance and tell him what he needs to know. Even if he’s tactless about it. 

I mean, Vil literally ran looking for a scale immediately after Rook’s comments on his weight. He probably added an extra hour to his daily workout routine the morning after eating the cake Trey gave him. I don’t believe that Rook is completely oblivious of Vil’s darker feelings, just as Vil has stated, he keeps too close an eye on him not to be oblivious. And he was astute enough to keep his infatuation with Neige a secret from Vil for nearly two years. This had to have been intentional. It honestly makes me wonder what Rook thinks of Vil on a more personal level. 

But regardless, the fact is, Rook was always going to vote for Neige and his explanation at the end of Book 5 was always going to be his reasoning. Vil’s overblot just gave him a more “legitimate” reason to do so. For whatever reverence he holds for Vil, it was never going to trump his reverence for Neige. The fact he brought all of his Neige photos with him to the training camp further implies that he was never going to be objective in this situation. And seeing Vil almost poison Neige probably further convinced him that Vil was undeserving of victory. 

That may make Rook seem duplicitous considering how positive and sincere he seems to be, but he’s still human. And truthfully, him voting for his bias is not an inherently bad thing. What makes him inconsiderate in this situation is openly telling Vil he prefers the catalyst for all his insecurities and overblot, while Vil was still grieving and in a very vulnerable place. Then justifying his decision as the correct one based on his own personal preferences, weaponizing that vulnerability to avoid being called out. Knowing that Vil wasn’t likely going to object. 

Even if NRC Tribe did win, it’s very likely Rook would have still brought up his vote to Vil and still convinced him it was undeserved. I would even go so far as to argue that Rook’s remarks about Neige early on in book 5 as well as Vil’s labwear vignette foreshadow the ending of book 5/start of book 6 far more than the fact that the huntsman betrayed the evil queen in the original Snow White. 

That coupled with a perfectionist like Vil looking back at their less-than-perfect performance is what compelled him to agree with Rook. If we take into account the idea that Vil still chose to vote for his own team afterwards, Rook’s actions and words probably further pushed him into believing in the idea of his inherent villainy and inferiority to Neige. After all, surely Neige Leblanche would never be reduced to such a hideous state. His heart is too pure, the fairest one of all and as different from Vil as night and day. 

If left to his own devices without Rook to influence him, Vil might not be so hard on himself in this case and would resent his defeat more. As he has every right to. But instead, Vil agreed with what was easiest and what made most sense based on everything that has happened in his life and all that he has been made to believe about himself. Why should he continue protesting when no one else will? 

Nevermind all the evidence we’ve seen of Vil’s tenacity, excellence and kindness. Why should he believe that he is the most beautiful one of all when Mira frequently tells him the opposite? Why should he believe in his own noble spirit when people openly say it’s not enough and that he’s not relatable enough to be a hero? Why shouldn’t he believe he is hideous when the entire world says it’s so? When even a large majority of this very fucking fandom mischaracterize him as such and agree with Rook anyway? 

Why should Vil question any of this?

And Vil will sadly continue to be second to Neige and will likely never question it. He will continue to internalize the toxic dichotomy between him and Neige and again, why shouldn’t he? After all, Vil is the evil queen to Neige’s Snow White, the Sharpay to his Gabriella, the Odile to his Odette. And Neige is the Madonna to Vil’s whore. Vil is not supposed to be the hero in this story and not even his trusted vice dorm leader has faith in him.

In discourse regarding the end of book 5, I’ve often heard it said that this was a “lesson” Vil had to learn in order to become a better person. I believe there was indeed a lesson to be learned from this, but not the one that many think. Since Vil knew from the beginning that trying to poison Neige was wrong, he didn’t need to learn how to play fair like Leona. 

Despite being a harsh leader, Vil was generally always fair with his teammates and again, as a former dancer, the way Vil instructed the NRC Tribe members seemed tame compared to some of the dance teachers I’ve had in the past. So learning to be less tyrannical wasn’t the lesson to learn either, like with Riddle. And part of what led to his overblot was realizing that NRC Tribe had been “outplayed” by Neige’s cuteness. But he still had enough faith in his ability to vote for his own team, so learning not to be manipulative wasn’t really needed either, like with Azul. 

No, the lesson for Vil here is that hard work is rarely ever rewarded fairly. And that his trauma is not valid because he was blessed in a way that Neige was not. He must always take second place to him because of his blessings while simultaneously ALWAYS being perfect. And because of his blessings, he can never express ugly emotions, he can never express anguish, and he must always, ALWAYS, take his mistreatment in stride. And God forbid if Vil DOES respond to his trauma in an ugly manner, he WILL be punished for it. He will ALWAYS be punished for it and by those closest to him no less. 

If Vil doesn’t like how they’ve treated him in his darkest hour, tough titties. It’s all his fault for not hiding his trauma to begin with. And he doesn’t even have the right to a moment to himself to cry. 

But that is where my analysis ends. Honestly this was kind of painful to write because it has made me fully realize just how much I’ve grown to disdain Rook after adoring him for so long. You all have no idea how hard I was hoping he would have some scrap of redemption in book 6. It’s really upsetting that so many people in this fandom look down on Vil or mischaracterize him but somehow don’t notice the glaring red flags in his dynamic with his vice dorm leader. 

Honestly, when I think about it, the ending of Book 5 is actually kind of brilliant, even if it’s also emotionally sadistic and lacking in other aspects. I'm not sure if that was Yana’s intention, but the fact that so many in the fandom tend to see Rook as the kinder one compared to Vil is very telling. 

Now I’m not saying that Vil is absolutely without flaws, Heaven knows he has many. As does every person in the twst cast. Vil is impulsive, domineering, harsh, difficult to please, overwhelming at times and extremely complex. But he is also helpful, perceptive, intelligent, genuinely kind and wants the best for those around him. Not for his own glory but for their own happiness and well-being. He is also clearly a deeply misunderstood and insecure young man, so I guess because of Vil’s faults, it’s “easier” to mischaracterize him. 

As for me, I find Vil’s character all the more compelling in spite of his harshness because I can see in him a true understanding of beauty that is both profound and attainable by anyone. If we are brave enough to behold it.

[ask-serendipity-sky]

Hello, everyone.

So...that blog @jimin-ethereal33?

Not a good Jimin blog and it sucks that people are there engaging with words that are basically the same things Jimin antis say just written with "nicer" words.

If you had all encountered this blog when it first started, you would have seen the change in tone.

They weren't even a jikook blog! They would say that jikook aren't soulmates or had a connection because we don't know anything about them. I found it super disturbing so I told my friends to block it.

And then somewhere along the line (while I've been on my break), their narrative changed and they made a blog to shame Jimin but dressed it up as an "awareness" blog.

Yes, we should be aware that what this person is saying is not support for Jimin.

I also kindly and respectfully asked them to remove the post about ED because it's not a topic for us to discuss. I begged them. But they ignored it and erased it.

Allright then...

Here are some bits from a few of their posts that absolutely portray Jimin as an insecure and weak person:

Jimin is so insecure he can't think?

Jk knows things but not Jimin because he's unsure?

Jimin is so sensitive and only this person knows all these things?

.....

Does this person ever include accounts to report? No.

Does this person ever support Jimin by sharing Interlude playlists, votings, stats, performances, articles, anything? No.

There are countless things to talk about when it comes to Jimin. Things that actually bring awareness and support Jimin. Things that celebrate Jimin!

Repeatedly stating that Jimin is weak, that he needs Jungkook (or anyone else), and that he is insecure is what antis do. Jjks use words like these all the time. Go to vile jjk's twitter profiles and this is the stuff you find.

I don't know a single real Jimin fan that thinks Jimin is weak, needs protection, etc...especially after he's rescued himself these past 10 years, gave us FACE, and became a soldier with honors ALL ON HIS OWN. If anyone still thinks that, reevaluate because you are incorrect. Obviously.

You all know I'm not the policing kind and we all have the right to write what we feel like writing. But if it's painting Jimin in a negative, disturbing, and incorrect light, I have to say something.

Please please please stop engaging with this account because I can assure you that they are not a real fan that cares about Jimin. They are a jjk at most. Tkkr probably.

Don't send them hate or nasty things. Please don't do that.

But STOP engaging.

Block and please tell your friends to stop engaging too!!

Don't give antis a platform!!!

Seriously, you all.

An anti will come a say a nice thing about jikook and post a few pretty pictures and you all will start following even if the rest of the stuff they say is made up bullshit that satisfies their own fantasies.

[one-piece-aus]

Unbottle Your Emotions

Eutass Kid x Reader (Part 1)

Ahoy readers! Some of you who read my Whumptober works know I made two short whumps of Kid in a highschool AU and I can tell you enjoyed those angsty works. I've dug around in my drafts and found this, I wrote it a few years ago but nonetheless, it's the beginning of this story so I thought why not post it? Part 1 | Part 2

Enjoy ^-^

"Alright, class," Makino addressed you and your classmates once she finished attendance. "I have a partner project for you to work on for the next two weeks. Before you ask, I have already assigned who you'll be working with."

You glanced over to Hawkins, if you were lucky you'd be partnered with him. The two of you were loners who stuck together. You found it easier to work with him since you kinda were on the same level when it came to that. He made eye contact with you and knew you wanted him to check his chances of being paired with you. He drew his cards under his desk before looking back to you and shaking his head. You sighed, pulling up your hood and resting your head on your arms, you continued listening to your English teacher.

"You'll be choosing a topic to write about, whether it's a review of a movie or a poem about birds, I want the two of you to make it together. This will be a presentation assignment so make sure to capture your listeners' attention and practice what you'll be reading." Makino paused, going over to her laptop, and clicking a few keys before turning on the projector. "Here are your partners."

Once the screen had been displayed your eyes scanned over the list to find your name. You saw Hawkins got paired with Cavendish, you almost felt bad for him until your eyes landed on who you paired with. The person Makino assigned you to work with was Eustass Kid.

He was the most hostile guy at school, it was no secret the guy had anger issues and was completely obnoxious. You avoided him like the plague for two reasons: 

1. You were a good student and just wanted to learn, obnoxious kids disrupt the silence and your ability to learn. 

2. You could only tolerate someone directing their anger at you for so long before crying; not that they made you feel sad, but because you felt anger at them and wished to shout back at them to defend yourself, yet you held your tongue back since you didn't want to cause further trouble; that bottled up emotion stressed tears out of you. 

You hated crying because that made you think you appeared hurt and weak when in reality you were angry and frustrated, the more you felt it the more the tears came. That's why tried to quickly get out of the predicaments if you were ever in them.

The quickest way you dealt with someone's anger and got out of the problem was ignoring them if they were just insulting you or apologizing respectfully if you did something to piss them off. Since you pulled off these things well without appearing to be phased and having acknowledgement of the issue with genuine respect, those in school weren't aware you had a limit. However, you witnessed how Kid gets whenever someone pisses him off, you knew there'd be no way you could keep the bottle closed if he directed his anger at you, so that's why you always duck away when you saw Kid coming.

Internally you panicked when you saw you were assigned to be his partner. You didn't know how you managed to get this far acting as a ghost while being in the same classes as him this semester. You usually weren't in a corner or by the window, you were near the front of the room, second row and just two desks away from being in the center of the class, great for viewing the board. Perhaps you were a ghost to Kid since he sat around the back near the window.

Kid raised his head and looked around, searching for you, you pulled your hood further over you and lowered your head to face away from Kid. "Oi, Teach! Which one's the one I'm working with?" You heard Kid ask, I guess he really didn't know who you are.

You listened to the footsteps of the teacher, drawing towards you just as a brush does to the paints on a pallet. You feel her gentle hand rub your head, maybe thinking you were asleep, you did come in class yawning. You hesitantly lifted your head, looking up at Makino and seeing her smile. Oh, bless her heart for being kind and welcoming, wishing to create a pleasant and welcoming place for her class, but that's what's going to bite you in the ass because it meant you couldn't get out of this since she wanted her class to be comfortable with each other. You sighed, making it a sound like a yawn, and sat up but still kept your hood on.

"This is [L/n], Eustass," Makino told Kid, gesturing to you before she went to another student who had raised their hand.

You didn't say a word, instead, you took out your notes and reviewed them to see which ones you needed for the project. The daunting sound of Kid approaching your desk only made you read through your notes more frantic until he sat down in the chair in front of you with a scowl on his face. You looked away from your notes, masking your uneasy state as you finally spoke to him.

"Hi! Sorry- I was searching for the notes we'll probably need!" You apologized then glanced back at the papers and began putting the ones you didn't need back in your binder. You just needed to get on his good side, if you didn't irritate him you two could get this project over with and never have to speak to each other again, that's how classmates go.

"At least you seemed to know what you're doing," Kid responded, eyes gazing over the many notes you've jotted down as you slipped them away in the binder.

"Uh- you can pick whatever you wanna do for the project if you want," you told him and put your binder into your bag. "I'm uh- fine with whatever unless you wanted to ask the teacher to work with a friend instead, then I'll find a topic to work on by myself."

"None of my friends are in this class," he shrugged and folded his arms. "Besides I know Makino wouldn't change my partner even if I asked, I'm just glad it's not strawhat I'm working with again."

"Strawhat? Luffy?" You tilted your head, not recalling Luffy being in your class.

"He was in one of my classes last semester and we had Makino as our teacher," Kid explained as put his arms on your desk, taking up half the space.

"Oh..."

"You know the guy?" Kid inquired, raising a non-existent eyebrow at you.

"Not really."

"Good, he's annoying and so are his friends."

You sweatdropped unsure how to respond to his complaint. Normally you'd let some continue their rants until they were done, especially if they had anger issues you didn't want to trigger them, but you wanted to get everything figured out before class was over.

"So did you have something in mind?" You asked getting back on topic.

"We're not writing poetry, that's for damn sure," he grumbled, pushing his cheek onto his knuckled fist.

'How ironic, that's probably what Cavendish and Hawkins are,' you thought to yourself as you glanced at the two blonds. Cavendish seemed to be boasting about myself again, maybe being partnered with Kid wasn't so bad.

"Have you listened to any metal songs?" Kid inquired, throwing his idea out there.

"Yeah..."

"Really?" he questioned, not believing you.

"Yeah."

Kid's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, really?!"

"Uh yeah." How many times were you going to have to repeat yourself?

"Huh, I didn't think you'd listen to that kind of music."

You shrugged. "My dad got me into metal and rock when I was younger. Better than what plays on the radio."

"You don't have to tell me twice. Idiots that listen to what they play on there now don't know what real music is."

You chuckled, agreeing with Kid, maybe he wasn't so bad. "I guess we found our topic. Now we need to figure out how we'd be writing it." You flipped over one of your papers and started writing down a few methods. "Fan letter to the artist, a review of the song, analysis of the lyrics-"

A loud buzz rang throughout the school and repeated itself, you cringed at the obnoxious noise blaring in your ear. Someone must've started a fire in the bathroom again. Your class filed out of the room, merging into the sea of students exiting the building. You wanted to cover your ears as the noise became louder in the halls but you didn't want to appear like a weirdo using your hands, you had wireless earbuds but that wasn't something to take out in the stampede you were in since you could drop one. You just had to suffer internally.

Once outside, you went and stood by Hawkins while waiting for the fire department to find the fire. You rubbed your ears now that you were away from the crowd and just had your fellow loner next to you.

"Acting like a cat again, [Y/n]?" Hawkins asked, seeing you paw your ears. He often compared to his cat, Faust.

"Yeah, my ears just hurt from the noise." You despised noise.

"You should listen to some soothing frequencies after instead of your regular choice of music if you want your ears to recover properly," Hawkins advised.

"Ehhhh... I might have to this time."

"Oh?" Hawkins glanced at you, inquiring you for further details. You didn't usually listen to him when he advised you to give your ear a break from your music, hence why he grew curious to understand why you were thinking of taking his suggestion.

"I might be hearing more noise today at school but once I get home I'll probably be able to listen to it."

"And what makes you think you'll be hearing more noise?"

"I don't know, maybe-"

"OI! [L/N]!" Kid shouted to get your attention as he marched over to you.

You flinched at his voice in that tone, and the irritated expression on his face made you think you did something wrong. You turned to him and held your arm behind your back.

"Sorry, what did you need Kid?"

"Give me your phone."

"What?" You feel your chest begin to burn and you know your forehead will begin to paint itself red.

"I need it to put my contact in your phone."

You were going to push back but you folded your tongue seeing the impatient scowl Kid wore. Not questioning him further, taking your phone out of your pocket. Unlocking it, you hastily clicked over to your contact app and handed it over to the redhead before you could see him grow more impatient.

Kid, just about to add a new contact, couldn't help but notice how you only had five contacts on your phone. Only three out of the five weren't family-related. Did you just not add people to your phone? He scoffed the thought off, it wasn't his business. He began typing his number into your phone.

You wanted to ask why Kid needed to put his contact in your phone, however, your bottled emotion prevented you from speaking your question. Kid seemed pissed enough, you weren't going to attempt to do anything that might push him off the edge. You shifted your footing, the expression on your face displaying your unease.

"Perhaps you should tell why you're adding your number to her phone," Hawkins spoke up for you.

"Fuck off Basil, it's not your business," Kid barked.

"It may not be mine but it is [Y/n]'s business to know since it is her phone," Hawkins stated unphased by Kid. Oh, how you wished to be as stoic as Hawkins. Granted, you did a good job ninety percent of the time but it crumbled easily in the presence of hostile or authoritative anger.

Kid glared at Hawkins for a moment before he handed you back your phone, his attention now on you. "Send me a text," he instructed you and pulled out his phone.

You weren't sure what exactly to send so you just typed 'Hi' into the chat. A ding came from Kid's phone and he checked the message to make sure it came from you. Comparing his screen to yours, you felt your hands brush against each other. The chills surfing across your body turned your body pale from how uncomfortable you felt to Kid standing this close to you. You wanted to isolate yourself in your room, though when Kid moved away you couldn't help but be grateful.

"Alright, I got it." Kid put his phone in his pocket and started walking away. "Text me about our project later."

You stood there confused with the hidden parts of your head burning red. You didn't understand why Kid confronted you like that when he could've easily asked when the two of you got back to class. You stared in the direction Kid left until a concerned hand rested on your shoulder and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Glancing over, you met Hawkins' crimson eyes.

"The cards said you needed a comforting hand," Hawkins said unsure if he helped. "There was an 80% chance you would've shed tears if not."

Right, Hawkins is the only one who knew of your bottled frustration; he saw it happen when he walked in the middle of you being scolded by a teacher. Anyone else would've thought you were upset and sad but he could read the frustration and anger written on your face, and he drew the cards to double-check. The two of you never spoke of it at first, but after you began to hang around, and he saw it a few more times, he offered to be there for you if you ever needed a quiet place and a listening ear.

"Once the firemen are done we'll be in second period," Hawkins informed you, shifting the topic away from what just happened. He knows you don't like to stay stuck in your conflicted emotions.

"So that's why Kid did that..." You glance at the phone in your hand to see the time; English is over. Slipping it into your pocket, you groaned, realizing something. "Hhhhh, that means we still have to get our stuff from English... We have drama next class, right?"

"Hmm." Hawkins nodded.

"Can you please get my stuff, I don't think I can face Kid again at the moment."

"Very well, [Y/n]."

"Thanks, I'll treat you to lunch."

"Does that mean we'll go to the vegan restaurant?" You've known Hawkins long enough to tell the subtle delight in his monotone.

"For doing this-" You turned to him, a grateful small smile drawn on your face. "Yes."

Tag: @lil-skelly-bones

[tocomplainfriend]

Please don't dismiss the voices of SA victims who fundamentally disagree with you. Please raise their voices the same way you would raise others, and treat their experiences as being just as valid and worthy of discussion as the people who find Val to be completely horrid. Frankly, were you to be *against* the idea of doing that, it would communicate to me that your whole shtick isn't actually about SA victims, it's about you feeling vindicated in your personal discomfort. Yes. There are people who dislike it for justifiable reasons and they deserve to have their voices heard. But please don't ignore those that have a differing opinion, and make sweeping, general statements. If you really care about people, you would do that.

TW: Rape, SA

I hope you understand the reason I post so much about the topic negatively. It's because I'm a victim of SA, and I don't like much about how this was treated. Mainly negative things because: Viv didn't take anything any SA victim said that was negative-towards her own show, like always. I saw my position in the matter greatly underrepresented, and that's why I type it all here. I saw plenty of people on Twitter that took the scene as a good representation and that they felt seen- and that's always great. Everyone need to heal and fell seen. How everyone was sharing how they felt 'in a positive light'- I felt I could write how I felt 'in a negative light' cause that's just as fair.

Also, if you realized what I have types over MULTIPLE post know, I don't even talk about the inside episode 4- mostly about the surrounding treatment.

If you think Angel is relatable and healing for your or others experiences, cool. Amazing, good for you! It's not for me and others, tho, mainly for things outside the episodes or scenes of Angel - Val. I have written about the things that me and others find criticizable- like the r-pe jokes in HB or HH. Why would you try to write respectfully all of episode 4 to then to a r-pe joke to Sir Pent in episode 6? See that isn't even about Angel or Val.

My last few posts aren't even about the writing of the show. But fandom stuff mainly. I have talked about how people treat Val like an uwu baby over the actual topic of R-pe and SA. I have talked about not liking that poison was directed by a NON SA victim with a r-pe fetish, redoing his own fan ship comics inside the show. Or the many other R-pe jokes inside Helluva and Hazbin that I feel take away from the serious message from episode 4.

My old post:

I'm talking about how I feel, yes! I'm an SA victim and I feel different than you or others. Never said that those people to fuck off- Its just not a view a share- at all. I never ignored anyone with a different opinion- I have purely communicated how I FELT AS A SA victim-mainly about the surrounding content of the situation. This is my blog where I post what I think. Post how you feel, this is how i feel.

(Weird timing maybe, but I thought I would've gotten a message like this after my earlier posts of Angel or Val or the Raph ones. But the most recent post is about someone crying cause someone else wanted a fictional r-pist character to die, LMAO. But maybe bad timing with the message, so whatever)

(BTW if you are an Anon I don't accept double message, because I can't confirm it's the same person!)

[mx-werebat]

Hey! This is a tag list I'm making both for here (mx-werebat) and my nonhuman blog, batsbolts-andfangs.

This is going to be a list of things that I respectfully ask my mutuals to filter tag, whether it be in respective tags, or in tags that mutuals made for me to filter things out. Those tags are #batty please ignore this, and #tagging for vamp.

// pt: This is going to be a list of things that I respectfully ask my mutuals to filter tag, whether it be in respective tags, or in tags that mutuals made for me to filter things out. Those tags are #batty please ignore this, and #tagging for vamp. //

None of this is forced, but absolutely encouraged.

// pt: None of this is forced, but absolutely encouraged. //

Last edited [mm/dd/yy/]: 05/23/24

// pt and without abbreviations: last edited in a month / day / year format: May 23rd, 2024 //

Reblog bait - Posts along the lines of "reblog if you support [insert thing]", "reblog if you're not [insert horrible thing]", etc. Essentially anything that makes you feel pressured to reblog. Can't tell? Maybe put one just in case.

Fatphobia - Any posts delving into the topic of fatphobia, or with someone actually being fatphobic in it. I am fat and this can trigger my body dysmorphia, which isn't good in the slightest.

Anything that could cause body dysmorphia - This is a more personalized thing, however I do also ask mutuals to use their best judgement.

The things I've noticed that cause body dysmorphia for me are: furry art of plus-sized cows and plus-sized anthropomorphic cows in general, and fatphobic things that were talked about above. There could be more, and if there is, I'll definitely add them.

Omegaverse - Anything that is tagged omegaverse or its other terms, anything that talks about it, or things like omegaverse flags. Basically omegaverse content in general.

Dead bats - This includes (but is not limited to): bat carcasses, dead bats in frames, bat taxidermy, skulls, skeletons, wet specimens, and anything alluding to the death of a bat. Dull reminder that from what I've heard, bat taxidermy is unethical and I will block if you own bat taxidermy and post about it.

Alluding to romance with vampires - Posts where OP, or someone reblogging the posts, talks about wanting to have a romantic relationship with a vampire. This does not include OCs and fictional characters talking about such, just actual individuals. I am a very romance repulsed vampire.

Mentions of Count Dracula - This is on due to Ula. She does not take well to Dracula, at all. He was her creator, and as her I hold great trauma about him. This pertains to Bela Lugosi's Dracula and Monster High's Dracula, not any other variants (i.e. the book one, Gary Oldman one, Hotel Transylvania, etc.)

// pt: Dull reminder that from what I've heard, bat taxidermy is unethical and I will block if you own bat taxidermy and post about it. //

Vampire hate - essentially anything that hates on vampires. I feel this is self explanatory.

Trolls / anon hate - also self explanatory. Essentially when you reblog or answer to anon hate or trolls.

Belly rubbing - any posts that talk about wanting belly rubs, or even images of it happening (to a human body. Animals are exempt from this.) This is due to my hypersexuality.

Discourse and Infighting - essentially anything related to discourse and infighting within these communities listed;

Non/alterhuman identities

Monster High fandom

An example of discourse would be discussions around if a certain identity is valid, as well as the current (as of the edit date) misanthropy discourse.

This is to prevent me feeling pressured to state my opinion. I simply cannot do such anymore, it's ruined my mental health.

This list is always subject to change. If you're unsure of what to filter tag, feel free to check on this post every so often. It will be linked on the introduction posts for both this blog and my nonhuman blog.

// pt: This list is always subject to change. If you're unsure of what to filter tag, feel free to check on this post every so often. It will be linked on the introduction posts for both this blog and my nonhuman blog. //

Please like this post to let me know you've read it.

// pt: Please like this post to let me know you've read it. //