#Stick To Your Guns. if your characters treat it as a given then your readers will too.

[orcelito]

I think the #1 thing to make writing good is to just. Stick to your guns. Take yourself seriously. If you treat your writing as if it's serious, even if you're doing some crazy shit, people are willing to believe it. The moment you doubt what you're doing in your writing, it's gonna shine through. So even if you're scared, pretend you're not until you get the hang of it & no longer feel so scared

It's worked for me so far 😅

[circethesinner]

the puppeteer ✿ sleepover - chapter 5 ✿

pairing: steve harrington x original female character (can be read as x reader)

warning(s): strong language, descriptions of violence, mature themes 

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It didn't dawn on Bambi that she could have attempted to use her powers on that monster until she was in Nancy's shower, using her strawberry scented shampoo to desperately scrub the slime from her hair. She wasn't sure if the monster even had a mind to take over, but she should have at least tried. Going forward, she'd try to remember that she could use her powers to get what she wanted. It wasn't ideal, and she hated doing it because it reminded her of how she'd been forced to use the powers for years, but once she had Eleven, they could leave that life behind them.

After convincing her it was safer to stay there for the night, Nancy had given her a towel and a change of clothes and pointed her in the direction of their bathroom. Bambi asked if she was going to go first, but Nancy said she'd just use her parent's bathroom since they weren't home.

Bambi managed to suppress her outward marvel at the fact that her family had a house with two bathrooms. After growing up in a lab, then spending two years in a room above a diner that smelt like grease and sprung a new leak each time it rained, Nancy's house was like a mansion.

Despite feeling like she was in a world of luxury, every time she closed her eyes, it was like she was back in that place. At one point, she opened her eyes again too quickly, and she suddenly thought she was back in the showers in the lab, the light bouncing off of the white tiles as she was forced to shower with four guards watching. Somehow, that made her panic more than the visions of whatever that horrible place she'd been trapped in for two hours was.

She sped through the rest of the shower, eager to get it over and done with. She did her best to dry her hair, so it wasn't sticking up in every position imaginable, but as usual, she failed. Growing out her hair was a challenge; she didn't know how to treat it, and there was no one around to teach her. Sally had once had to cut a matted piece out the back the size of a softball; she was sure Sally cried over it more than she did. It was easier to just keep it shorter, so she didn't have to deal with it.

Nancy's clothes fit okay. The legs on the pyjama pants were a little long, but she was shorter than Nancy, so that was to be expected. Bambi blamed her short stature on the lack of sunlight for the first fourteen years of her life.

She knocked on Nancy's bedroom door instead of letting herself in; she didn't want to accidentally interrupt someone changing. Nancy opened it cautiously but gave a gentle smile that didn't reach her eyes when she realised it was only Bambi and let her in. Nancy was dressed in her pyjamas, her hair still damp from her shower, and Jonathan had taken off his jacket and stood over a blanket laid out on the floor on one side of the bed. There was another laid on the other side she assumed would be hers for the night.

"Do you uh... Do you mind if I use your phone to call my grandad? I uh... I was supposed to let him know when I got to Hawkins, but I jumped the gun a bit and just started looking." Bambi felt so awkward. She didn't have friends at home. She had never stayed the night at someone's house before. She knew that this wasn't the time for normal sleepover etiquette. They weren't going to braid each other's hair or talk about boys.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, it's in the kitchen." Nancy nodded. Bambi thanked her and padded downstairs to call George. She was worried it was a bit too late for her to call him, she didn't want to wake him up, but she just needed to hear a familiar voice.

"Bambi?" He answered the phone with her name; he'd probably been expecting her call for a few hours. A pang of guilt hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Hey George, yeah, it's me." She tried to sound as happy as she could. "Sorry, got a bit wrapped up as soon as I got here and-"

"Right, so the moment you left, I opened that letter." George interrupted her before she could continue. Fear overtook the guilt, mixed with a bit of anger.

"George!" She scolded, louder than she'd intended. Hoping no one in the house had heard her, she continued. "What do you mean you opened the letter? It was supposed to be for emergencies!"

"Well, I'm a nosey old bastard, and you know that." He chuckled down the phone. Bambi almost forgot how upset she was when she heard it; she rarely got to hear him laugh. It was comforting. "I want you to know that I believe every word of this."

"Did you tell anyone?" Bambi asked, quietly dreading that the answer would be yes.

"Who do you take me for? Of course not." George scoffed, and with that, a weight felt like it had been lifted. "Now, you're going to be mighty proud of me for this one; get this: I went to the library and used one of them co-puters."

"Do you mean a computer? And the library didn't burn down?" Bambi teased, leaning against the kitchen counter. George was notoriously terrible with technology; he avoided it like the plague. He'd even put off getting a phone until Bambi forced him to.

"Shut up," George complained from the other end of the line. "So I looked up that little town that you're in, and it looks like something big is happening there; now I reckons it might be connected to that place you grew up in. I won't say much in case the lines got insects in them."

"You mean bugged?" Bambi laughed. "Look, I won't say much either, but something happened today, and it was... Well, it was not good. I'm at someone's house-"

"You ain't learnt a damn thing about stranger danger, have you?" George huffed, interrupting her again.

"Says the man who once almost gave his social security number out to a woman he'd just met!" She retorted. "Now, if I could get back to what I was saying before being so rudely interrupted? I'm at someone's house right now; they helped me with the bad thing that happened today, and I think they might be connected to whatever you found out on your 'co-puter' searches."

"Right, well, stay safe, or whatever it is I'm supposed to say here," George grumbled, his regular grumpy self returning. "You know I've been thinking of making this diner one of them fancy chain places with multiple stores? Well, it just so happens the bloke who ran the diner in that town of yours was killed; they say it's a suicide, but who knows with all them shady goings-on."

"George, if this is going where I think it's going, then I'm going to stop it from going there." Bambi turned around, leaning her elbows on the counter and resting her head in her hand.

"I called and made an offer; Bobbie is going to take over this joint until I can get the new one set up with staff, which I reckons might coincidentally be the same amount of time you'll be staying there on your little mission," George confirmed Bambi's fears. "I'll be heading over tomorrow, and I expect you to welcome me with open arms. The place is called Benny's Burgers for now. If I leave early in the morning, I'll be there at about 5pm."

"I don't suppose I can stop you, can I?" Bambi groaned, already knowing the answer. "Look, I gotta go. I don't want to rack this family's phone bill up too high. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Right, well, don't sound too excited to see me, will you?" George snorted. "Remember, 5pm Benny's."

"5pm Benny's, got it," Bambi confirmed before she hung up, placing the phone back on the receiver on the wall.

"Who are you, and why are you in my house wearing my sister's clothes?" Bambi gasped, turning around to face the dark-haired kid talking to her.

"Jesus fucking christ kid, where did you come from?" She hadn't heard him enter the kitchen or seen him for that matter.

"No, you're in my house; you answer my questions." The kid glared up at her with the confidence that could only come from a pre-teen boy.

"Bambi, I'm a friend of your sisters, and we're having a sleepover," Bambi responded, already sick of the kid's attitude.

"Bambi, what?" He asked.

"Oakes. Now can I go back upstairs, or are you going to keep interrogating me?" She questioned.

"My sister doesn't have a friend named Bambi, and we don't know any Oakes," The kid retorted, his arms now crossed. Bambi was about to fire back at him with the first snarky thing that came to mind when he beat her to it. "Why do you have that tattoo?" Instinctively, Bambi moved her hand to cover the number tattoo on her arm.

"None of your business." She replied, frowning at him. Usually, people dropped it after that, but he seemed persistent.

"What number is it?" He asked again. Bambi was about to respond with another 'none of your business', but he didn't even let her get that in. "It was seven, right? Are you like her?"

"Am I like who?" Bambi didn't like how many questions this kid was asking. It was like he knew something she didn't about herself.

"Like El-" He started to answer, but Nancy appeared in the doorway.

"Ugh, Mike, stop being a pest." She scolded her younger brother, motioning for Bambi to join her. Bambi was more than happy to get away from his barrage of questions, though she couldn't escape the feeling that Mike had been about to say the very number she'd been looking for.

"Sorry about him," Nancy shook her head in annoyance as they walked back up the stairs. "We thought you'd left since you were taking a while, but we didn't hear the door."

"No, you're stuck with me for the night." Bambi tried to joke to lighten the mood a little, it worked for a split second but the air in the bedroom felt heavier. Bambi took note of Jonathan now laying on Nancy's bed and not on the floor. She decided against saying anything and just crawled under the comforter on the floor by the door.

That night was a very sleepless one for all three of them.

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in this house we acknowledge that mike is a lil butthead (at least in season 1... and 2... and 3...) but he's a teenage boy and its to be expected so he gets a pass... for now... maybe...

likes are very much appreciated and I will give each and every one of you little kisses on the forehead for each comment you write :)

[gascon-en-exil]

I'll admit I've never been interested in GoT books or the show, thus I'm not too interested in HotD either. But what issues do you think these shows (and books too) had re: portraying gay characters and treating them poorly in the narrative?

Given your opinions on House of the Dragon's handling of Laenor and Joffery's relationship, what do you think of Game of Thrones' queer content?

Combining these as they're similar.

I'll start out by saying that I've never read anything by GRRM, so my comments here are only reflective of the TV adaptations. From all that I have seen I know that GRRM has a history of defending the presence of certain elements in his work - including homophobia, women getting married very young, and sexual violence toward women - as something appropriate for the time period that he's depicting (or a fantasy equivalent thereof). Your mileage will definitely vary as to whether you think that defense holds up, but he does seem to be sticking to his guns judging by what we've seen of HotD which is adapted from a novel published only four years ago - well into the time where GoT had garnered major acclaim but also criticism for how it handles such subjects. I went into GoT knowing that it's the sort of media property where almost everyone is terrible and also almost everyone dies, and that that there's a bleakness to the storytelling that it's never about finding someone to root for or hoping that your favorite characters will get happy endings so much as enjoying the carnage as it goes down.

As for specifics, I think the first season and a half of GoT does a decently good job at developing Loras and Renly's relationship, and even gives them two intimate scenes which certainly stand out in the earlier seasons' abundant use of female nudity. Then Renly is killed off, more or less exactly as he is in the book as I understand it, and from that point on fans seem divided on whether Loras eventually taking a new lover in the show was a good thing or not. Personally I regard that choice more positively, because it doesn't enshrine gay relationships as purer and more romantic than straight ones (in a way that coincidentally prevents the need to show a gay relationship anymore), but I understand why book readers especially take issue with that. What I'm less fond of is how Loras and Olyvar become the victims of Cersei's new puritanical allies the Faith Militant in season 5, and how the discomfort of his trial (which sees both him and his sister imprisoned while Olyvar...vanishes from the plot) is overshadowed because it's in the same episode where Sansa is raped, an infamously horrible and despised moment. By that point I've pretty much checked out of GoT's gay content, content instead to follow Cersei through her repeated highs and lows as she continues to do entertainingly terrible things and reap the consequences of her actions in entertaining ways.

Those aren't the only queer characters in the show; Oberyn is a bisexual delight for his single season and gets to enjoy himself onscreen with both women and men, and there's like two scenes where Yara being a lesbian is referenced, but it's all very sparse and hard to get invested in when everyone keeps dying. I continue to be amused however by the not-really-serious implication in the show's final shots that Jon and Tormund are a couple going north with their pet direwolf and their Free Folk family, and how Jonmund shippers take this in stride as perhaps the only people to have anything nice to say about the last episode. That's more of fandom taking subtext and running with it though, and while that's certainly very fun in its own right it's not quite the same thing.

So far HotD looks to be much the same: gay content, when it exists, is light and not developed well, and the show loves its dramatic deaths too much for me to bother getting attached to any but the most significant characters who I know are going to be around for a while thanks to wikis and such. If you're looking for fantasy with gay content specifically, I would not recommend either show; their entertainment value lies elsewhere, and if there are occasionally gay people in them that's more of a minor perk.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Shield (one-shot)

Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.

Word count: 3591

I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D 

P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.

P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.

P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.

He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.

           Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well. 

A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them

           But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.

           Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground. 

           There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...

           Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.

           “Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”

           But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”

           His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”

           Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”

           “You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”

           “Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”

           And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.

           Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.

           “Who are you?” he whispered

           “A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.

           “I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”

           Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

           A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

           “Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”

           He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle. 

           “And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”

           “Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy. 

           “I told you she was going to be fine.”

           Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.

           “We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.

           “It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”

           “It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.

           At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.

           “She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”

Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees. 

           When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick. 

           He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.

           A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words. 

           “I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”

           Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth. 

           “It’s been a while since a hit like this.”

           Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”

           Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?

           Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic. 

           It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.

           “Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.

           He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”

           He hated that he was right.

           Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.

           But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.

           Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town. 

           Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.

           Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.

           The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.

           “What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.

           “Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”

           Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”

           Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

           “He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed. 

           Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”

           Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

           She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.

           Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt. 

           “When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”

           Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”

           “They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’

           “That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”

           Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.

           “Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”

           Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.

           “They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.

           “They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”

           “How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time. 

            Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”

“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”

           Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”

           “What he’s doing is not right. What they’re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”

           “It’s the price I pay for what I did.”

           “Pain?”

           Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”

           Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”

           “How else am I supposed to do this?”

           “By getting help yourself first.”

           Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“

           “What’s rule number two?”

           “Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”

           Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”

           “Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”

           “Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”

           Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.

           “They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”

           “It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”

           Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”

           She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”

           Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.

           After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.

           Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.

Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift. 

           A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.

           They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him. 

           He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.

           Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.

           Bucky smiled.

           Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.

           Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.

_________________________________________________________________

Please reblog if you like this. For whatever reason my Bucky fics aren’t appearing in the tags :(

Tags: 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​  @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​  @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

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Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae​

[hotdamnhunnam]

Take All That Anger Out on Me

A/N: Here’s the first requested fic from the ‘Super Kinky’ list for my Dirty Little Secret series!!! (I’ll be alternating these super kinky fics with the ‘Somewhat Filthy’ fics.) **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, intense degradation, Jax is raging and seriously roughs you up ‘cause you beg him to let all his anger out (slaps your face, spits on your face and in your mouth) Request: Request from @rayslittlekitten (in comments under this post) + anon request

Word Count: ~2k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off, please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

It's past 2 A.M. when he finally gets home, storming into the living room, the front door swinging loud and hard behind him as he slams it closed.

You jump up off the couch immediately, tingling as you sense the red hot rage that's radiating from his body, from that drop-dead gorgeous head down to his toes. It fills you with the urge to rip off all his fucking clothes. Worship the sculpted muscles underneath his shirt and kutte... just eat him up... But you're not sure if Jax is in the mood to use you as his slut, right now when he is clearly furious about whatever happened on today's job. So you try to keep your mouth closed. Stay composed. 

But then he heads into the kitchen, and you can't resist the urge to ask a question, as you follow. "How'd it go...?"

"Don't ask," Jax grumbles in a low rasp, as he tosses his gun down onto the table, moving toward the fridge to grab himself a beer. He doesn't even bother looking back at you at all, let alone stop to say hello. Just moves across the room like you're not even here. "You don't wanna know."

Some twisted part of you loves it when he gets so rude. He’s in one of those moods, and it shows, and the one thing you do know... is just how the rest of the night's gonna go.

You don't wanna know, he had said. You protest, knowing that will provoke him best, bring all that smoldering rage to the surface and make him go mad.

And you want that. So bad.

He says it again, like he's reading the thoughts in your head. "Trust me, Y/N, you don't wanna fucking know."

"I do, though—"

"I said don't," your man repeats, casting a glance in your direction, for a split second, piercing blue glare burning your skin off with the heat. And then he turns his back to you again, muttering something as he grabs the drink he needs. You're not sure if he wanted you to hear it. But you did. "Stupid bitch."

... Well, shit. Those degrading words off of his lips just made your pussy twitch. You squirm and cross your arms over your tits, nipples suddenly stiff, through the thin cloth of your pajama top. His back is toward you at the moment so he doesn't really notice. You pretend to just be miffed, although the truth is that you’re thirsty for this man to fuck you up. "Okay, somebody's got his boxers in a twist..."

Jax takes a deep swig of his drink. Then sets it down, and slowly turns around. "You shut your mouth," he growls out loud, the dark edge in his tone depriving you of all ability to think. 

A sheen of liquor glistens on his lower lip; he flicks his tongue out, takes a lick and then bites down hard on the soft pink flesh. Surveys the skimpy PJs you’ve got on, the lacy fabric of the bottoms, hanging low upon your hips... his gaze descends down to your crotch before sliding across your chest... Then up your neck to linger on your mouth and make you melt, as if he knows you're desperate to use that dirty mouth to just untwist his boxers yourself. 

And damn are they in a tight twist. He talks down at you in a mean, menacing hiss. "Thought you'd know better than to get sassy like this when I'm already fucking pissed."

Every word he utters, in that husky voice of his, gets you all hot and bothered, hits you like a goddamn bomb exploding on your clit. Taking a few steps toward this sex god motherfucker, you uncross your arms and set your hands upon your hips. At this point all your dignity has been eclipsed, desire coming through, and you don't care if he can see your tits—you don't doubt it. In fact you want him to, if this suggestive shift in energy is signaling that he might want to do something about it. 

So you respond accordingly: with a provocative reply to make it clear that you are quite painfully horny. "Well, I guess I don't know shit. I'm just a stupid little bitch."

At that, a shadow of a smirk flickers across his luscious lips. "Oh, now you're asking for it..."

"Begging. Please," you answer, wet with need, unable to hold back the nasty slut inside of you that has to be released. Undoubtedly. "Take all that anger out on me."

Towering over you so tall and powerful, so big and strong and beautiful, those eyes so blue and hair so blonde... he bites his tongue and pauses just a fraction of a second. Ocean eyes exploring yours, to make sure that you know just what you're in for. That it's what you really want. That you're ready and eager for whatever rough and dirty sex Jax Teller has in store.

And of course you fucking are. Without wasting a second more, he lunges forward, like an animal pinning you to the floor—the kitchen table, let alone the bed or any better surface that may be available, is way too fucking far—hovering over you on all fours, groaning in sadistic pleasure as you happily surrender to his force, grinding his hips hard into yours, until you're moaning like a whore.

"This what you wanted, bitch?" he devilishly teases, razor edges of his teeth grazing your trembling bottom lip as he gets off on just how bad you fucking need this. Scratching your every last itch. His ruthless hands tear off your flimsy top, groping and pawing at your tits. "Yeah, 'course it is. You kinky little piece of shit."

"F-fuck...!" you scream, turned on beyond belief. His brutal dominance is everything you’ve ever dreamed; the filthy whore inside you instantly reacts, as he attacks. "Fuck, Jax..."

"Told you to shut your goddamn mouth," he grunts, one hand reaching to rip right through your panties so that he can plunge two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, pumping violently in and out. As his thumb flicks against your slick sensitive clit, he clamps his other hand across your gasping lips, your skin on fire beneath his fingertips. "So keep it shut. You filthy fucking slut."

Oh God, oh Goddd, he is so motherfucking hot. By now you are incapable of any other thought. The palm of his strong, calloused hand is so big that he easily smothers your whole snout and stifles your breathing. And you love the feeling, the heaven of staring up into his blazing blue gaze as he cuts off your airways, of sinking straight into the ultimate subspace... your mind is so blown you've forgotten your own fucking name.

Yet still you know you will remember his, always. Your world revolves around Jax Teller... you live only for his pleasure, now and forever, all day every day... you truly love it when he treats you like a worthless piece of shit. You have no shame.

Despite your consciousness being shattered to bits, somehow you're nonetheless aware that you just came.

"Ugh, look at you," he snarls, pulling his soaked fingers out of your pulsating slit, sticking them in your mouth to make you taste yourself just as he loves to do. Your juices have gushed out all over the floor, and his hands, and his pants, and the whole goddamn world. "Such a dirty girl. Squirting all over my kutte. Did I say you could cum, you dumb slut?"

No, he most definitely did not...

"You're disgusting," he snaps, pulling his hand off of your mouth at last, only to deal your cheek a sudden savage slap. Your inner slut is blissfully combusting. You're so weak and he's so strong. And then he holds your breathless mouth wide open with his thumbs... hocks up a thick wet wad of spit, and puckers up his slick pink lips, to shoot it straight onto your tongue. "Good-for-nothing scum."

By now you're so turned on that you've gone numb.

Jax spits on you again, and again, down your throat and all over your forehead and chin, humiliating you with laughter as he smacks your cheeks repeatedly and rubs his palm across your face to spread his spit around till every inch is fucking glazed. Sending you deeper into subspace. 

Your pussy convulses in shameless disgrace, clenching tight around nothing, set to come undone again just from the sheer power of his fucking perfection. From the friction of his raging hard erection, through his jeans against your bare skin, the sensation of pure sin, his rough hands and ravenous mouth dominating and degrading you in all possible ways.

"You like being my dirty little punching bag?" he taunts, as if he has to ask; it's obviously everything you want. To be a damn fucktoy for Jax. He swiftly flips you over then, all of a sudden, to begin smacking your ass. "You want this big fat dick deep in your cunt? Mmm, know you do, slut. Gonna have to beg for that."

You try to beg, instinctively spreading your legs, desperate for fifty shades of filthy sex, as you sprawl out for him facedown upon the ground. And yet given the state you're in right now, somehow. you can't manage a sound. 

He spanks your ass raw, as you squirm and struggle from beneath, gritting your teeth, striving to speak, wasted and weak, gaping your mouth so wide you'll probably break your fucking jaw. Still not a word comes out—nothing but choked whimpers and gasps for air, as his dominant fingers grab a fistful of your hair, lifting your head and tilting it toward him just to spit in your mouth, yet again and then slamming your head right back down. God, you love how he's letting his inner beast out and just going to town.

You quiver in bliss as you grovel in a puddle of his spit, the floor tiles pressed against your tits, high on the way he beats you like a low-down piece of shit. It's all you are to him at times like this. Overcome with arousal and unable to control yourself at all, your pussy aching as it drips, you start cumming again at the next words off of his lips. "You're such a stupid... fucking... bitch."

You squirt even harder this time around. Feels like you've drowned.

Jax deals your ass a final stinging spank, then twines his fingers in your messy hair again, forcing your head up off the ground with an aggressive yank. "Dumb fucking skank. See, I was gonna fuck that cunt tonight—stuff you full of this big dick until I cum inside, then fuck your throat and let you drink it all up—every goddamn drop, you dirty little slut... but you know what? You don't deserve it. Not when you've been such a pathetic piece of shit."

He blesses you with one more smack across the face, and one more shot of his sweet spit, laughing as you soak in the feel and the taste of such total disgrace.

Ughh, he is so fucking hot... he's an actual sex god... you think, as he throws you back down to the ground, letting you drown, lost in the pure filth of your perfectly satisfied kinks.

"So now you know what happens when I'm fucking pissed," Jax says, gloating at how you groan in bliss, letting your loving gaze worship his flawless face. "Next time you disobey, and piss me off like that, I'm gonna take out all my anger even harder on your sorry ass and make it hurt real bad. You got that, bitch?"

Oh God, fuck, yes. He's such a savage. To be honest, you just hope that is a promise...

And from the way he's smirking down at you like this, dirty and devilish—giving off such a dangerous dominance that's so fucking delicious—set to satisfy your deepest darkest wishes... you can tell that it most definitely is.

***************

... Sooo that was super filthy and I know Jax is an absolute asshole in this lol but I hope there are some kinky bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

***************

Kinkfest Tag List – Join Here!*

*If you’re unable to use that link to join the tag list, just let me know and I’ll manually add you to it!

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[shortnotsweet]

Bakudeku: A Non-Comprehensive Dissection of the Exploitation of Working Bodies, the Murder of Annoying Children, and a Rivals-to-Lovers Complex

I. Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

II. Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

III. How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

IV. Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

V. Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

VI. Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

VII. Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

Disclaimer

It needs to be said that there is definitely a place for disagreement, discourse, debate, and analysis: that is a sign of an active fandom that’s heavily invested, and not inherently a bad thing at all. Considering the amount of source material we do have (from the manga, to the anime, to the movies, to the light novels, to the official art), there are going to be warring interpretations, and that’s inevitable.

I started watching and reading MHA pretty recently, and just got into the fandom. I was weary for a reason, and honestly, based on what I’ve seen, I’m still weary now. I’ve seen a lot of anti posts, and these are basically my thoughts. This entire thing is in no way comprehensive, and it’s my own opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. If I wanted to be thorough about this, I would’ve included manga panels, excerpts from the light novel, shots from the anime, links to other posts/essays/metas that have inspired this, etc. but I’m tired and not about that life right now, so, this is what it is. This is poorly organized, but maybe I’ll return to fix it.

Let’s begin.

Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

There are a lot of different reasons, that can be trivial as you like, to ship or not to ship two (or more) characters. It could be based purely off of character design, proximity, aversion to another ship, or hypotheticals. And I do think that it’s totally valid if someone dislikes the ship or can’t get on board with his character because to them, it does come across as abuse, and the implications make them uncomfortable or, or it just feels unhealthy. If that is your takeaway, and you are going to stick to your guns, the more power to you.

But Bakudeku’s relationship has canonically progressed to the point where it’s not the emotionally (or physically) abusive clusterfuck some people portray it to be, and it’s cheap to assume that it would be, based off of their characterizations as middle schoolers. Izuku intentionally opens the story as a naive little kid who views the lens of the Hero society through rose colored glasses and arguably wants nothing more than assimilation into that society; Bakugou is a privileged little snot who embodies the worst and most hypocritical beliefs of this system. Both of them are intentionally proven wrong. Both are brainwashed, as many little children are, by the propaganda and societal norms that they are exposed to. Both of their arcs include unlearning crucial aspects of the Hero ideology in order to become true heroes.

I will personally never simp for Bakugou because for the longest time, I couldn't help but think of him as a little kid on the playground screaming at the top of his lungs because someone else is on the swingset. He’s red in the face, there are probably veins popping out of his neck, he’s losing it. It’s easy to see why people would prefer Tododeku to Bakudeku.

Even now, seeing him differently, I still personally wouldn’t date Bakugou, especially if I had other options. Why? I probably wouldn’t want to date any of the guys who bullied me, especially because I think that schoolyard bullying, even in middle school, affected me largely in a negative way and created a lot of complexes I’m still trying to work through. I haven’t built a better relationship with them, and I’m not obligated to. Still, I associate them with the kind of soft trauma that they inflicted upon me, and while to them it was probably impersonal, to me, it was an intimate sort of attack that still affects me. That being said, that is me. Those are my personal experiences, and while they could undoubtedly influence how I interpret relationships, I do not want to project and hinder my own interpretation of Deku.

The reality is that Deku himself has an innate understanding of Bakugou that no one else does; I mention later that he seems to understand his language, implicitly, and I do stand by that. He understands what it is he’s actually trying to say, often why he’s saying it, and while others may see him as wimpy or unable to stand up for himself, that’s simply not true. Part of Deku’s characterization is that he is uncommonly observant and empathetic; I’m not denying that Bakugou caused harm or inflicted damage, but infantilizing Deku and preaching about trauma that’s not backed by canon and then assuming random people online excuse abuse is just...the leap of leaps, and an actual toxic thing to do. I’ve read fan works where Bakugou is a bully, and that’s all, and has caused an intimate degree of emotional, mental, and physical insecurity from their middle school years that prevents their relationship from changing, and that’s for the better. I’m not going to argue and say that it’s not an interesting take, or not valid, or has no basis, because it does. Its basis is the character that Bakugou was in middle school, and the person he was when he entered UA.

Not only is Bakugou — the current Bakugou, the one who has accumulated memories and experiences and development — not the same person he was at the beginning of the story, but Deku is not the same person, either. Maybe who they are fundamentally, at their core, stays the same, but at the beginning and end of any story, or even their arcs within the story, the point is that characters will undergo change, and that the reader will gain perspective.

“You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan dive off the roof!”

Yes. That is a horrible thing to tell someone, even if you are a child, even if you don’t understand the implications, even if you don’t mean what it is you are saying. Had someone told me that in middle school, especially given our history and the context of our interactions, I don’t know if I would ever have forgiven them.

Here’s the thing: I’m not Deku. Neither is anyone reading this. Deku is a fictional character, and everyone we know about him is extrapolated from source material, and his response to this event follows:

“Idiot! If I really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide! Think before you speak!”

I think it’s unfair to apply our own projections as a universal rather than an interpersonal interpretation; that’s not to say that the interpretation of Bakudeku being abusive or having unbalanced power dynamics isn’t valid, or unfounded, but rather it’s not a universal interpretation, and it’s not canon. Deku is much more of a verbal thinker; in comparison, Bakugou is a visual one, at least in the format of the manga, and as such, we get various panels demonstrating his guilt, and how deep it runs. His dialogue and rapport with Deku has undeniably shifted, and it’s very clear that the way they treat each other has changed from when they were younger. Part of Bakugou’s growth is him gaining self awareness, and eventually, the strength to wield that. He knows what a fucked up little kid he was, and he carries the weight of that.

“At that moment, there were no thoughts in my head. My body just moved on its own.”

There’s a part of me that really, really disliked Bakugou going into it, partially because of what I’d seen and what I’d heard from a limited, outside perspective. I felt like Bakugou embodied the toxic masculinity (and to an extent, I still believe that) and if he won in some way, that felt like the patriarchy winning, so I couldn't help but want to muzzle and leash him before releasing him into the wild.

The reality, however, of his character in canon is that it isn’t very accurate to assume that he would be an abusive partner in the future, or that Midoryia has not forgiven him to some extent already, that the two do not care about each other or are singularly important, that they respect each other, or that the narrative has forgotten any of this.

Don’t mistake me for a Bakugou simp or apologist. I’m not, but while I definitely could also see Tododeku (and I have a soft spot for them, too, their dynamic is totally different and unique, and Todoroki is arguably treated as the tritagonist) and I’m ambivalent about Izuocha (which is written as cannoncially romantic) I do believe that canonically, Bakugou and Deku are framed as soulmates/character foils, Sasuke + Naruto, Kageyama + Hinata style. Their relationship is arguably the focus of the series. That’s not to undermine the importance or impact of Deku’s relationships with other characters, and theirs with him, but in terms of which one takes priority, and which one this all hinges on?

The manga is about a lot of things, yes, but if it were to be distilled into one relationship, buckle up, because it’s the Bakudeku show.

Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

One of the ways in which the biopolitical prioritization of Quirks is exemplified within Hero society is through Quirk marriages. Endeavor partially rationalizes the abuse of his family through the creation of a child with the perfect quirk, a child who can be molded into the perfect Hero. People with powerful, or useful abilities, are ranked high on the hierarchy of power and privilege, and with a powerful ability, the more opportunities and avenues for success are available to them.

For the most part, Bakugou is a super spoiled, privileged little rich kid who is born talented but is enabled for his aggressive behavior and, as a child, cannot move past his many internalized complexes, treats his peers like shit, and gets away with it because the hero society he lives in either has this “boys will be boys” mentality, or it’s an example of the way that power, or Power, is systematically prioritized in this society. The hero system enables and fosters abusers, people who want power and publicity, and people who are genetically predisposed to have advantages over others. There are plenty of good people who believe in and participate in this system, who want to be good, and who do good, but that doesn’t change the way that the hero society is structured, the ethical ambiguity of the Hero Commission, and the way that Heroes are but pawns, idols with machine guns, used to sell merch to the public, to install faith in the government, or the current status quo, and reinforce capitalist propaganda. Even All Might, the epitome of everything a Hero should be, is drained over the years, and exists as a concept or idea, when in reality he is a hollow shell with an entire person inside, struggling to survive. Hero society is functionally dependent on illusion.

In Marxist terms: There is no truth, there is only power.

Although Bakugou does change, and I think that while he regrets his actions, what is long overdue is him verbally expressing his remorse, both to himself and Deku. One might argue that he’s tried to do it in ways that are compatible with his limited emotional range of expression, and Deku seems to understand this language implicitly.

I am of the opinion that the narrative is building up to a verbal acknowledgement, confrontation, and subsequent apology that only speaks what has gone unspoken.

That being said, Bakugou is a great example of the way that figures of authority (parents, teachers, adults) and institutions both in the real world and this fictional universe reward violent behavior while also leaving mental and emotional health — both his own and of the people Bakugou hurts — unchecked, and part of the way he lashes out at others is because he was never taught otherwise.

And by that, I’m referring to the ways that are to me, genuinely disturbing. For example, yelling at his friends is chill. But telling someone to kill themselves, even casually and without intent and then misinterpreting everything they do as a ploy to make you feel weak because you're projecting? And having no teachers stop and intervene, either because they are afraid of you or because they value the weight that your Quirk can benefit society over the safety of children? That, to me, is both real and disturbing.

Not only that, but his parents (at least, Mitsuki), respond to his outbursts with more outbursts, and while this is likely the culture of their home and I hesitate to call it abusive, I do think that it contributed to the way that he approaches things. Bakugou as a character is very complex, but I think that he is primarily an example of the way that the Hero System fails people.

I don’t think we can write off the things he’s done, especially using the line of reasoning that “He didn’t mean it that way”, because in real life, children who hurt others rarely mean it like that either, but that doesn’t change the effect it has on the people who are victimized, but to be absolutely fair, I don’t think that the majority of Bakudeku shippers, at least now, do use that line of reasoning. Most of them seem to have a handle on exactly how fucked up the Hero society is, and exactly why it fucks up the people embedded within that society.

The characters are positioned in this way for a reason, and the discoveries made and the development that these characters undergo are meant to reveal more about the fictional world — and, perhaps, our world — as the narrative progresses.

The world of the Hero society is dependent, to some degree, on biopolitics. I don’t think we have enough evidence to suggest that people with Quirks or Quirkless people place enough identity or placement within society to become equivalent to marginalized groups, exactly, but we can draw parallels to the way that Deku and by extent Quirkless people are viewed as weak, a deviation, or disabled in some way. Deviants, or non-productive bodies, are shunned for their inability to perform ideal labor. While it is suggested to Deku that he could become a police officer or pursue some other occupation to help people, he believes that he can do the most positive good as a Hero. In order to be a Hero, however, in the sense of a career, one needs to have Power.

Deviation from the norm will be punished or policed unless it is exploitable; in order to become integrated into society, a deviant must undergo a process of normalization and become a working, exploitable body. It is only through gaining power from All Might that Deku is allowed to assimilate from the margins and into the upper ranks of society; the manga and the anime give the reader enough perspective, context, and examples to allow us to critique and deconstruct the society that is solely reliant on power.

Through his societal privileges, interpersonal biases, internalized complexes, and his subsequent unlearning of these ideologies, Bakugou provides examples of the way that the system simultaneously fails and indoctrinates those who are targeted, neglected, enabled by, believe in, and participate within the system.

Bakudeku are two sides of the same coin. We are shown visually that the crucial turning point and fracture in their relationship is when Bakugou refuses to take Deku’s outstretched hand; the idea of Deku offering him help messes with his adolescent perspective in that Power creates a hierarchy that must be obeyed, and to be helped is to be weak is to be made a loser.

Largely, their character flaws in terms of understanding the hero society are defined and entangled within the concept of power. Bakugou has power, or privilege, but does not have the moral character to use it as a hero, and believes that Power, or winning, is the only way in which to view life. Izuku has a much better grasp on the way in which heroes wield power (their ideologies can, at first, be differentiated as winning vs. saving), and is a worthy successor because of this understanding, and of circumstance. However, in order to become a Hero, our hero must first gain the Power that he lacks, and learn to wield it.

As the characters change, they bridge the gaps of their character deficiencies, and are brought closer together through character parallelism.

Two sides of the same coin, an outstretched hand.

They are better together.

How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

I think it’s fitting that in the manga, a critical part of Bakugou’s arc explicitly alludes to killing the middle school version of himself in order to progress into a young adult. In the alternative covers Horikoshi released, one of them was a close up of Bakugou in his middle school uniform, being stabbed/impaled, with blood rolling out of his mouth. Clearly this references the scene in which he sacrifices himself to save Deku, on a near-instinctual level.

To me, this only cements Horikoshi’s intent that middle school Bakugou must be debunked, killed, discarded, or destroyed in order for Bakugou the hero to emerge, which is why people who do actually excuse his actions or believe that those actions define him into young adulthood don’t really understand the necessity for change, because they seem to imply that he doesn’t need/cannot reach further growth, and there doesn’t need to be a separation between the Bakugou who is, at heart, volatile and repressed the angry, and the Bakugou who sacrifices himself, a hero who saves people.

Plot twist: there does need to be a difference. Further plot twist: there is a difference.

In sacrificing himself for Deku, Bakugou himself doesn't die, but the injury is fatal in the sense that it could've killed him physically and yet symbolizes the selfish, childish part of him that refused to accept Deku, himself, and the inevitability of change. In killing those selfish remnants, he could actually become the kind of hero that we the reader understand to be the true kind.

That’s why I think that a lot of the people who stress his actions as a child without acknowledging the ways he has changed, grown, and tried to fix what he has broken don’t really get it, because it was always part of his character arc to change and purposely become something different and better. If the effects of his worst and his most childish self stick with you more, and linger despite that, that’s okay. But distilling his character down to the wrong elements doesn’t get you the bare essentials; what it gets you is a skewed and shallow version of a person. If you’re okay with that version, that is also fine.

But you can’t condemn others who aren’t fine with that incomplete version, and to become enraged that others do not see him as you do is childish.

Bakugou’s change and the emphasis on that change is canon.

Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

In real life, the idea that “oh, he must bully you because he likes you” is often used as a way to brush aside or to excuse the action of bullying itself, as if a ‘secret crush’ somehow negates the effects of bullying on the victim or the inability of the bully to properly process and manifest their emotions in certain ways. It doesn’t. It often enables young boys to hurt others, and provides figures of authority to overlook the real source of schoolyard bullying or peer review. The “secret crush”, in real life, is used to undermine abuse, justify toxic masculinity, and is essentially used as a non-solution solution.

A common accusation is that Bakudeku shippers jump on the pairing because they romanticize pairing a bully and a victim together, or believe that the only way for Bakugou to atone for his past would be to date Midoryia in the future. This may be true for some people, in which case, that’s their own preference, but based on my experience and what I’ve witnessed, that’s not the case for most.

The difference being is that as these are characters, we as readers or viewers are meant to analyze them. Not to justify them, or to excuse their actions, but we are given the advantage of the outsider perspective to piece their characters together in context, understand why they are how they are, and witness them change; maybe I just haven’t been exposed to enough of the fandom, but no one (I’ve witnessed) treats the idea that “maybe Bakugou has feelings he can’t process or understand and so they manifest in aggressive and unchecked ways'' as a solution to his inability to communicate or process in a healthy way, rather it is just part of the explanation of his character, something is needs to — and is — working through. The solution to his middle school self is not the revelation of a “teehee, secret crush”, but self-reflection, remorse, and actively working to better oneself, which I do believe is canonically reflected, especially as of recently.

In canon, they are written to be partners, better together than apart, and I genuinely believe that one can like the Bakudeku dynamic not by route of romanticization but by observation.

I do think we are meant to see parallels between him and Endeavor; Endeavor is a high profile abuser who embodies the flaws and hypocrisy of the hero system. Bakugou is a schoolyard bully who emulates and internalizes the flaws of this system as a child, likely due to the structure of the society and the way that children will absorb the propaganda they are exposed to; the idea that Quirks, or power, define the inherent value of the individual, their ability to contribute to society, and subsequently their fundamental human worth. The difference between them is the fact that Endeavor is the literal adult who is fully and knowingly active within a toxic, corrupt system who forces his family to undergo a terrifying amount of trauma and abuse while facing little to no consequences because he knows that his status and the values of their society will protect him from those consequences. In other words, Endeavor is the threat of what Bakugou could have, and would have, become without intervention or genuine change.

Comparisons between characters, as parallels or foils, are tricky in that they imply but cannot confirm sameness. Having parallels with someone does not make them the same, by the way, but can serve to illustrate contrasts, or warnings. Harry Potter, for example, is meant to have obvious parallels with Tom Riddle, with similar abilities, and tragic upbringings. That doesn’t mean Harry grows up to become Lord Voldemort, but rather he helps lead a cross-generational movement to overthrow the facist regime. Harry is offered love, compassion, and friends, and does not embrace the darkness within or around him. As far as moldy old snake men are concerned, they do not deserve a redemption arc because they do not wish for one, and the truest of change only occurs when you actively try to change.

To be frank, either way, Bakugou was probably going to become a good Hero, in the sense that Endeavor is a ‘good’ Hero. Hero capitalized, as in a pro Hero, in the sense that it is a career, an occupation, and a status. Because of his strong Quirk, determination, skill, and work ethic, Bakugou would have made a good Hero. Due to his lack of character, however, he was not on the path to become a hero; defender of the weak, someone who saves people to save people, who is willing to make sacrifices detrimental to themselves, who saves people out of love.

It is necessary for him to undergo both a redemption arc and a symbolic death and rebirth in order for him to follow the path of a hero, having been inspired and prompted by Deku.

I personally don’t really like Endeavor’s little redemption arc, not because I don’t believe that people can change or that they shouldn't at least try to atone for the atrocities they have committed, but because within any narrative, a good redemption arc is important if it matters; what also matters is the context of that arc, and whether or not it was needed. For example, in ATLA, Zuko’s redemption arc is widely regarded as one of the best arcs in television history, something incredible. And it is. That shit fucks. In a good way.

It was confirmed that Azula was also going to get a redemption arc, had Volume 4 gone on as planned, and it was tentatively approached in the comics, which are considered canon. She is an undeniably bad person (who is willing to kill, threaten, exploit, and colonize), but she is also a child, and as viewers, we witness and recognize the factors that contributed to her (debatable) sociopathy, and the way that the system she was raised in failed her. Her family failed her; even Uncle Iroh, the wise mentor who helps guide Zuko to see the light, is willing to give up on her immediately, saying that she’s “crazy” and needs to be “put down”. Yes, it’s comedic, and yes, it’s pragmatic, but Azula is fourteen years old. Her mother is banished, her father is a psychopath, and her older brother, from her perspective, betrayed and abandoned her. She doesn’t have the emotional support that Zuko does; she exploits and controls her friends because it’s all she’s been taught to do; she says herself, her “own mother thought [she] was a monster; she was right, of course, but it still [hurts]”. A parent who does not believe in you, or a parent that uses you and will hurt you, is a genuine indicator of trauma.

The writers understood that both Zuko and Azula deserved redemption arcs. One was arguably further gone than the other, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are both children, products of their environment, who have the time, motive, and reason to change.

In contrast, you know who wouldn’t have deserved a redemption arc? Ozai. That simply would not have been interesting, wouldn’t have served the narrative well, and honestly, is not needed, thematically or otherwise. Am I comparing Ozai to Endeavor? Basically, yes. Fuck those guys. I don’t see a point in Endeavor’s little “I want to be a good dad now” arc, and I think that we don’t need to sympathize with characters in order to understand them or be interested in them. I want Touya/Dabi to expose his abuse, for his career to crumble, and then for him to die.

If they are not challenging the system that we the viewer are meant to question, and there is no thematic relevance to their redemption, is it even needed?

On that note, am I saying that Bakugou is the equivalent to Zuko? No, lmao. Definitely not. They are different characters with different progressions and different pressures. What I am saying is that good redemption arcs shouldn’t be handed out like candy to babies; it is the quality, rather than the quantity, that makes a redemption arc good. In terms of the commentary of the narrative, who needs a redemption arc, who is deserving, and who does it make sense to give one to?

In this case, Bakugou checks those boxes. It was always in the cards for him to change, and he has. In fact, he’s still changing.

Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

There does seem to be an urge to obsessively gender either Bakugou or Deku, in making Deku the ultra-feminine, stereotypically hyper-sexualized “woman” of the relationship, with Bakugou becoming similarly sexualized but depicted as the hyper-masculine bodice ripper. On some level, that feels vaguely homophobic if not straight up misogynistic, in that in a gay relationship there’s an urge to compel them to conform under heteronormative stereotypes in order to be interpreted as real or functional. On one hand, I will say that in a lot of cases it feels like more of an expression of a kink, or fetishization and subsequent expression of internalized misogyny, at least, rather than a genuine exploration of the complexity and power imbalances of gender dynamics, expression, and boundaries.

That being said, I don’t think that that problematic aspect of shipping is unique to Bakudeku, or even to the fandom in general. We’ve all read fan work or see fanart of most gay ships in a similiar manner, and I think it’s a broader issue to be addressed than blaming it on a singular ship and calling it a day.

One interpretation of Bakugou’s character is his repression and the way his character functions under toxic masculinity, in a society’s egregious disregard for mental and emotional health (much like in the real world), the horrifying ways in which rage is rationalized or excused due to the concept of masculinity, and the way that characteristics that are associated with femininity — intellect, empathy, anxiety, kindness, hesitation, softness — are seen as stereotypically “weak”, and in men, traditionally emasculating. In terms of the way that the fictional universe is largely about societal priority and power dynamics between individuals and the way that extends to institutions, it’s not a total stretch to guess that gender as a construct is a relevant topic to expand on or at least keep in mind for comparison.

I think that the way in which characters are gendered and the extent to which that is a result of invasive heteronormativity and fetishization is a really important conversation to have, but using it as a case-by-case evolution of a ship used to condemn people isn’t conductive, and at that point, it’s treated as less of a real concern but an issue narrowly weaponised.

Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

Another thing I think could be elaborated on and written about in great detail is the way that the Eastern part of the fandom and the Western part of the fandom have such different perspectives on Bakudeku in particular. I am not going to go in depth with this, and there are many other people who could go into specifics, but just as an overview:

The manga and the anime are created for and targeted at a certain audience; our take on it will differ based on cultural norms, decisions in translation, understanding of the genre, and our own region-specific socialization. This includes the way in which we interpret certain relationships, the way they resonate with us, and what we do and do not find to be acceptable. Of course, this is not a case-by-case basis, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who hold differing beliefs within one area, but speaking generally, there is a reason that Bakudeku is not regarded as nearly as problematic in the East.

Had this been written by a Western creator, marketed primarily to and within the West (for reference, while I am Chinese, but I have lived in the USA for most of my life, so my own perspective is undoubtedly westernized), I would’ve immediately jumped to make comparisons between the Hero System and the American police system, in that a corrupt, or bastardized system is made no less corrupt for the people who do legitimately want to do good and help people, when that system disproportionately values and targets others while relying on propaganda that society must be reliant on that system in order to create safe communities when in reality it perpetuates just as many issues as it appears to solve, not to mention the way it attracts and rewards violent and power-hungry people who are enabled to abuse their power. I think comparisons can still be made, but in terms of analysis, it should be kept in mind that the police system in other parts of the world do not have the same history, place, and context as it does in America, and the police system in Japan, for example, probably wasn’t the basis for the Hero System.

As much as I do believe in the Death of the Author in most cases, the intent of the author does matter when it comes to content like this, if merely on the basis that it provides context that we may be missing as foreign viewers.

As far as the intent of the author goes, Bakugou is on a route of redemption.

He deserves it. It is unavoidable. That, of course, may depend on where you’re reading this.

Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

If there’s one thing, to me, that epitomizes middle school Bakugou, it’s him being trapped in a sludge monster, rescued by his Quirkless childhood friend, and unable to believe his eyes. He clings to the ideology he always has, that Quirkless means weak, that there’s no way that Deku could have grown to be strong, or had the capacity to be strong all along. Bakugou is wrong about this, and continuously proven wrong. It is only when he accepts that he is wrong, and that Deku is someone to follow, that he starts his real path to heroics.

If Bakudeku’s relationship does not appeal to someone for whatever reason, there’s nothing wrong with that. They can write all they want about why they don’t ship it, or why it bothers them, or why they think it’s problematic. If it is legitimately triggering to you, then by all means, avoid it, point it out, etc. but do not undermine the reality of abuse simply to point fingers, just because you don’t like a ship. People who intentionally use the anti tag knowing it’ll show up in the main tag, go after people who are literally minding their own business, and accuse people of supporting abuse are the ones looking for a fight, and they’re annoying as hell because they don’t bring anything to the table. No evidence, no analysis, just repeated projection.

To clarify, I’m referring to a specific kind of shipper, not someone who just doesn’t like a ship, but who is so aggressive about it for absolutely no reason. There are plenty of very lovely people in this fandom, who mind their own business, multipship, or just don’t care.

Calling shippers dumb or braindead or toxic (to clarify, this isn’t targeting any one person I’ve seen, but a collective) based on projections and generalizations that come entirely from your own impression of the ship rather than observation is...really biased to me, and comes across as uneducated and trigger happy, rather than constructive or helpful in any way.

I’m not saying someone has to ship anything, or like it, in order to be a ‘good’ participant. But inserting derogatory material into a main tag, and dropping buzzwords with the same tired backing behind it without seeming to understand the implications of those words or acknowledging the development, pacing, and intentional change to the characters within the plot is just...I don’t know, it comes across as redundant, to me at least, and very childish. Aggressive. Toxic. Problematic. Maybe the real toxic shippers were the ones who bitched and moaned along the way. They’re like little kids, stuck in the past, unable to visualize or recognize change, and I think that’s a real shame because it’s preventing them from appreciating the story or its characters as it is, in canon.

But that’s okay, really. To each their own. Interpretations will vary, preferences differ, perspectives are not uniform. There is no one truth. There are five seasons of the show, a feature film, and like, thirty volumes as of this year.

All I’m saying is that if you want to stay stuck in the first season of each character, then that’s what you’re going to get. That’s up to you.

This may be edited or revised.

[sinkix]

Haikyuu!!│Obsessive/Yandere HC’s │

Warning - Contains dark themes, mentions of emotional and physical abuse & sexually suggestive/explicit (18+) content, reader’s discretion is advised.

Characters - Hinata, Kuroo, Daichi, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Oikawa, Bokuto, Tendou & Kageyama.

Important Note: This is in no way romanticising or normalising toxic/abusive behaviour, you should not do as such as this is incredibly dangerous and unhealthy. If you identify any of these in your own relationships please seek help from a member of authority, counsellor or someone who can remove you from and aid in your recovery from the situation. This is a great contrast from all my other work on here so please read with caution. Stay safe <3

Hinata - The Hell-bent Visionary

Danger level: 6.5/10

So you’ve caught the eye of Karasuno’s ray of sunshine?

Bask in it’s warmth while you can, for the sun sets and leaves a chilling dark in it’s wake.

When he becomes focused on something, it’s hard to break the dedication he has. It’s unyielding, firm and persistent. Once you light a fire in him, it’s near impossible to put out.

And you didn’t just spark a flame, you formed a whole inferno.

Blowing up your phone with texts, calls and the tapping of rocks against your bedroom’s glass from late night visits to your doorstep. Greeted with the sickening scent of blood-red roses filling your nose at a reminder of how firmly he has you in his hold that will never falter. The lingering scratch marks adorning the window panes that you could have sworn were not there the night before.

 He can’t get enough of you, and the more time he spends with you, the more addictive your presence becomes.

He’s hooked, reaching the point of rivalling his sporting passion.

He learns to balance the two equally, and any second that isn’t spent practising, he is by your side or doing everything in his power to be.

It’s tunnel vision. All he sees is you, and the ball, nothing else matters. Relentlessly chasing for both long after his lungs tire and legs give out.

 He is a dark, unwavering force of nature, itching to monopolise you and eradicate any threat on what belongs to him. Yet around everyone else, he's a bundle of lovable sunshine who wouldn't dare hurt a fly, and while he doesn't show an outright aggressive nature, you know there's something sinister lurking underneath that might one day snap. 

It’s his stare that haunts you the most.

That ominous, chilling stare which pierces through your heart and impales it on a stick, out on display for him to marvel at in all it’s vulnerable beauty. The level of intensity and sheer devotion glinting in his eyes is nothing short of haunting.

Luckily for you, Hinata will not cause physical harm, but it’s his presence and ‘Jekyll & Hyde’ nature which will slowly but surely chip away at you until your sanity is reduced to dust. The worst part? Since he is loved by everyone, no one sees the twisted side you do, and as a result left permanently in a state of self-doubt and second guessing. Your mind will eventually spiral into a descent to madness until your right where he wants you.

Be careful, for even the sun’s light burns out eventually. And when it does, you’ll be swallowed by the darkness.

Kuroo - The Devil’s Reciprocal

Danger level: 9/10

Ahhh, the bad boy who smells of cigarettes and sex, the one who lurks in bars long after midnight eyeing up his prey. This man gives Satan a run for his money. I hope you’re prepared. What did you do to catch his eye, anyway? 

Whatever it was, it’s doomed you to an eternity in hell on earth.

Or heaven, if you��re a glass half full kind of person.

Kuroo drew you in like a moth to a flame, you knew he had no glinting halo, but that was his appeal.

 He was the incarnation of everything your parents warned you about, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Hell, you still can’t. But that doesn’t minimise the damage done to you every second he turns the light on, reeling you in once again, further and further until there’s no escape, utterly blinded by his deceiving tactics.

He has many admirers, you know. So in his eyes he feels you should be privileged to be given so much of his attention, that once received would leave any sane person running.

Unfortunately, you don’t seem to be sane enough, and he recognises this. He knows he’s got you hooked on his every word, dragging out the syllables like a lullaby that leave you entranced and begging for more.

 What can I say? The man has a way with words, and you’re totally enthralled by every sentence. 

Kuroo recklessly waves his charm like a gun, never a moment of hesitation to utilise it in order to get what he wants. 

And he always gets what he wants. 

It’s so dangerous it will leave you down on your knees in an act of submission and prepared to do anything to please him. The tip of the pistol aimed at your temple as if daring your defiance.

He revels in seeing that doe-eyed expression, fully aware of how much control he holds over every cell in your body. All of them scream out for him, for Kuroo. To kiss you, touch you and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear that linger with his hot breath scathing your neck, burning his scent into your memory until it’s one you’ll never forget. 

With all that temptation comes  consequence though, because once you give in, you’ll face the sadists horns that lurk underneath. 

Intertwining your bodies and tracing a switchblade across your jugular, he’ll stretch his lips into a wide, cunning grin, slamming into you and rutting his hips until they connect with yours. Throwing your head back in ecstasy, your whine will be stifled and cut short by the piercing slit of a blade shallowly opening the skin of your throat, the sharp sting lingering as his tongue deepens the incision with delight.

He is incredibly possessive, so anyone he deems a threat will be mercilessly eradicated, soon to be forgotten though. He will never allow your thoughts to be consumed by anything but him. 

Grinding his body against yours, the husky murmuring of pillow talk he is all too skilled at will leaves your knees trembling and buckling before him, with the one question he will only ever accept one answer to.

“Tell me sweetheart, who do you belong to...?”

Shuffling the cards and dragging cigar smoke across his lips, he’ll sip that glass of gin snidely and lock you in place with his smouldering gaze. Forever a reminder there’s no escape from his enslaving curse.

Daichi - The Despotic Protector

Danger level: 6/10

Karasuno’s father figure and reliable captain rolled into one. I hope you’re prepared for a lifetime of suffocation, because he’s never letting you go.

He takes on an almost a parental role in the relationship, and a toxic one.

Controlling, overbearing and monitoring your every move. He will never allow you to do anything without his permission out of fear for your safety.

I mean, what if something happens to you while you’re not within his peripherals? 

That’s a thought he simply couldn’t bear.

He’ll lock you in the confines of his home if he has to. But don’t get mad sweetheart, it’s because he cares for you.

Soon enough Daichi will have isolated you from the world, never seeing the shining of sunlight unless your arm is looped around his in a crushing hold. 

Friends? You can forget them, he made sure to steer you far, far away from those. He just can’t risk them laying a finger on you or putting you in harms way, he would never forgive them.

Daichi desperately tries to convince you he has your best interests at heart, and unluckily for you, you fall right into his trap.

Your whole life is consumed by him, and only him. Watching the clock tick by aimlessly until you hear his footsteps up the driveway, scurrying to the door to greet him like an obedient dog upon his arrival.

Pulling you into a loving hug that threatens to squeeze the life out of you, you can’t help but let your mind roam and ponder the question lurking at the back of your thoughts.

Has he ever killed with these hands?

They seem too crushing. Like a brute, inhuman force. You can picture his fingers wrapped around someone’s throat and draining them of oxygen almost too easily.

Little did you know, your hypothesis was painfully accurate. 

An old childhood friend of yours, currently 6 feet under in the yard. Your bare feet trampling over his grave and none the wiser every time he allows you to set foot in the garden.

You’ll never know, though. It’s not like you can check your phone without his permission anyway, he’s already blocked their contact.

Days, weeks, months pass by of his constant monitoring and controlling behaviour. The CCTV’s scattered in every corner of the house, the social deprivation and loneliness that creeps in every time he’s not there as you roam the barren household, the purple finger marks roping your wrists from when he kept you in a paralysing grip,daring your disobedience.

and you can’t help but wonder,

Maybe the person you needed protecting from was him.

Tsukishima - The Mendacious Manipulator

Danger level: 8.5/10

How unlucky you are to be paired with this mentally destroying sadist. 

At first Tsukishima’s wit, sarcasm and clever quips were what allured you, never did you think they would be used against you. Wielded like a weapon with a blade sharp enough to slice you in two.

And I’m warning you, every cut hurts.

There’s no escaping from it, a string of degrading remarks whispered cruelly in your ear while holding hands in public, appearing to be a cute and affectionate couple, but a sinister secret lurks underneath that only you know of.

He’ll treat you like a dog, expecting you to be at his every beck and call, serving on your knees with a painted smile that’s woefully forced on with every ounce of strength you have left.

You are his puppet, his useless little play thing that he makes painfully aware of how disposable they truly are.

And don’t take him for a fool, he will discard you if he sees fit.

Unmerciful, cruel, snide, are the some of many words that can describe Tsukishima, and as you’ll soon find out none of them are pleasant.

He will craftily make you open up to him. Revealing your deepest insecurities,traumas and troubles then sheath it like a sword to your neck, holding you hostage to your own weaknesses in order to gain that empowering sense of control he oh-so revels in. Endlessly striving to achieve his selfish, favourable outcome. 

This Yandere is one of most intelligent of the bunch, and unfortunately for you, does not use his intelligence for charitable or good-natured purposes.

He knows exactly what to say to leave you curled up in a ball, tears streaming and wracked in emotional agony as you plead for forgiveness on something that isn’t even your fault. He knows this, but finds it comical and all too amusing to see you so broken over something when you weren’t the one to blame. He gets off to your mental anguish.

You’ll be left stumbling the streets at 2 in the morning, contemplating your life and everything as you know it, he will warp your perception of the world until he is the only one you can crawl to. After all, it’s your fault, right? He’s the only one who could tolerate you, everyone else abandoned you because you were so insufferable.

...is what he’ll have you believe. In reality, Tsukishima was pulling strings behind the scenes to ensure you would distance yourself from friends and family, resulting in them doing the same. Wrapping you around his finger and twisting your behaviour into one that’s volatile and unapproachable, until you’re left totally alone.

You’ll never know though.

That mental fortitude will soon shatter, and when it does, he’ll cackle at it’s pathetic remains.

Yamaguchi  - The Diffident Vampire

Danger level: 5/10

I’m sad to say, but your tween Twilight fantasies will be crushed when you stumble upon this mess of a monster.

I don’t mean to say he’s a literal vampire, but you’ll understand the use of this metaphor once we delve into some of his tendencies.

He is incredibly insecure, the walking embodiment of the very word.

Now that isn’t the reason you should be warded off, everyone has self-esteem issues. However, this trait of his plays a huge part in siphoning the life out of you.

He captured your heart with his soft and sympathetic nature, easily startled and somewhat skittish.

You didn’t see what was below the iceberg however, and once you did, he sank his teeth in and began to suck before you could escape, draining you dry until you have no more left to give. Nothing to spare until he is licking his lips in satisfaction, swelled with the abundance at the emotional dependency he has built up on you.

He needs reassurance like a life line, and while some might find this endearing at first, it undoubtedly becomes highly toxic and emotionally exhausting.  

Yamaguchi is incredibly volatile with his sensitivity, you have to watch your words and be sure he doesn’t misinterpret them and become dejected. He will read into everything you say and question every little detail. 

This is one of those Yandere’s that wouldn't do it intentionally I don’t think, but by the time he catches himself it’s too late, he’s in far too deep to stop and I don’t think he ever will once he realises how addicted he is to you, your words boosting his sense of worth and being the only form of confidence he’s ever felt in his life.

It’s quite sad, really. 

Don’t pity him too much, though. That’s the trap. That’s how reels you in until the teeth marks adorning your neck are a harsh reminder that you are nothing more than food for his ego.

If you ever think about leaving, he will have no qualms grovelling at your knees, razor to his wrists and begging you to stay. A cruel memoire at what keeps you tied here in the first place.

Pity.

Care.

The mutual empathy you saw in him that drew you in was now broken and one-sided, his selfishness far outweighing this trait of his and becoming your death-sentence. 

The marks will never fade. One day you’ll collapse to your knees and cave, but he won’t stop until he has bled you bare.

Oikawa - The Venusian’s Nightmare.

Danger level: 8/10

Oh charming Oikawa. The pretty boy with enough carnal seduction to rival his greek goddess counterpart. Hair smooth as silk, eyes glinting with mischief and a smirk that could bow you down on all fours. He has everything, or so it seems.

Sanity isn’t one of them.

He is VERY demanding when he craves your attention, which let’s face it is pretty often. If he doesn’t get it? Definition of a nightmarish brat.

He will whine, complain, blow up your phone. Still not available?

He’ll simply disappear.

For how long? Who really knows. He likes the thought of you on edge and anticipating his return, thoughts of him plaguing your mind to the point you question if you’re the one who’s obsessed.

Don’t worry though, when he returns he has enough sensual suave to make you forgive him ten times over.

You may think his bratty and sulking nature is the worst of it.

Oh how wrong you are.

Push him to his limits or the closest thing to it and you’ll face a cut-throat, teasing sadist who will tie you to the bed with a sickening sparkle in his eyes, marvelling at your skin jaggedly sliced open like a sheet of paper, tracing the wounds with his tongue and lapping up the blood before pulling you into a heated kiss which seems almost loving, if it weren’t for the metallic taste intertwining your tongues as a harsh reminder that you’re not here by choice.

He is definitely the type to mock you and howl with laughter as your body spams and writhes in pain, degrading you with the most vile remarks till tears spill from your eyes.

“Awh poor (Y/N)-chan, crying like a baby. Can’t handle the pain? What a pathetic little whore. Maybe if you beg enough, I’ll ease up the pressure~”

Sometimes he’ll leave you there wrist-bound to the bed post for hours, coming back in occasionally until your level of pleading satisfies him. 

His change in treatment is paradoxical in the aftermath, he will release you from your restrains and rub your skin with such tender care, it’s agonisingly deceiving.

One of the most dangerous things about him is his intuition, it’s damn near supernatural and makes for a natural born lie detector. Oikawa will sense the slightest shift in your mood, tone and body language. He knows you like the back of his hand, making it all the more unnerving to be in his presence.

This can be a positive if he is looking to fill you with ecstasy, since he knows every sweet spot, curl of his fingers and words to whisper that leave you trembling in mind-numbing pleasure.

Though you know once coming down from your high, your moments of heaven will slip through your fingers before crashing back down to reality.

He can read you like a book that he wrote with his own hands and it’s horrifying, he can predict what you’re going to say or do before you’ve even made up your mind. Which as you can guess, makes escape or wheedling out of a threatening scenario a null alternative.

If you decide to make the suicidal mistake of lying, your body will never quite function the same once he’s through. not to mention the plethora of emotional scarring that comes along with it.

After catching you in your mendacity and deeming your punishment enough, he’ll decorate your body in cuts, bruises and hickeys that throb from the abuse of his teeth. Laying you down in bed and tucking you in gently, wrapping an arm around in an act of ‘protection’ that was formerly wrapped around your throat in an act of threatening asphyxiation.

Eyes fluttering closed hours after he drifted off beside you, your heart rate quells and the tears staining your cheeks dry, preparing for the repeated cycle when the sun rises. 

How foolish to be lured in by such a facade, even the most beautiful of creatures can be hideous. 

Bokuto -  The Volcanoes Slaughter

Danger level: 9.5/10

The ticking of a time bomb, the cracking of the ground beneath your feet.

Once you are swept up in this man’s wrath you know there will never be an escape.

and he’s fucking terrifying.

His energy and vigour were what charmed you, his upbeat enthusiasm that while volatile, was very contagious and encouraging. 

If only you had known what kind of disaster was laying low under the surface.

Akaashi had tried to warn you, but you simply never listened.

He pities you now, for you’re in the same boat as him.

Eternally putting up with his violent tempers and erratic nature, which you often get the brunt of behind closed doors, left to cover the scars with a scarf and cheap pot of concealer.

His moods switch as quick as the direction of the wind, a gust too strong that leaves you flying back like a ragdoll against the wall.

Or that may just be because he actually threw you in a fit of rage, itching to see your limp body crack against the drywall to soothe his rage. Drowning the voices in his head with the sound of your soothing whimpers filled with agony.

While he may beat you black and blue whenever the overflow of emotions take over, he still does ‘care’ for you in his own sickening way, and would never have any qualms snapping a neck or two if it prevented anyone else laying a finger on you.

Though to be honest it’s the furthest thing from care, it’s downright monopolisation of something he deems his object.

How dare they hurt his personal punching bag, don’t they know you’re his and his alone to mark up in any way he pleases?

To everyone else, he seems like a very loving and protective boyfriend who has the occasional mood swing. If only they could pick up on the flinching of your body when his voice raises even a decibel, or the way you retract in fear at the swatting of a hand too close to your face. 

The anxiety felt when in his presence is indescribable, your whole body will soon become accustomed to trembling in fear, your fight or flight kicking in at the mere mention of his name. His voice sends every hair standing on end, bracing for the impact that may or may never come from his grazed fists.

Treading on eggshells and analysing every word before you speak will become second nature, even the tone of your voice or the way you arrange a question will be heavily thought over before even daring to let it escape your mouth.

You just can’t risk it, even hearing a word he doesn’t like will result in the tectonic plates shifting, getting closer to his impending eruption.

Once you hear the rumbling, you’ll know it’s far too late to run. Burned by the raging lava and consumed whole in a flood of pain and misery, it will destroy everything in it’s wake, even you.

Tendou - The Jesters Despair

Danger level: 10/10

You really opened pandora’s box with this one.

And once you so much as cracked it for a peak, just that little inkling of curiosity, the lanky arm of a redhead yanked your wrist and dragged you in with him.

Tendou’s eccentric and offbeat disposition was something you had always admired, it was what made your heart flutter.

Now? That eccentricity is put to the most horrifying of uses.

Mind games, manipulation, and unpredictability beyond your worst nightmare.

Tendou is the type to sink a blade into your skin and cackle maniacally while you cry and plead for him to stop. Edging himself and eyeing you up greedily at the painful fear in your eyes, blood trickling down your skin with each incision.

He’ll pull your hair back and slide his tongue along the cuts, his lustful gaze boring into your own as the pooling saliva leaves a chilling feeling on your skin, nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of his DNA entering your bloodstream.

He thrives on trickery and deception. He’s the type to say something incredibly warm and soft-centred, one that makes your pupils expand in newfound hope with the question of “...really?” rolling off your tongue. That inkling of hope sparking the thought that maybe, just maybe he’s changed. 

Only to burst into a fit of laughter at your naivety, teasing you relentlessly for how gullible and moronic he thinks you are. 

This yandere is incredibly incalculable. Here one minute, gone the next. Don’t even bother trying to figure out what he’s doing or where he is, you’ll never know. It keeps you on your toes in the most negative and unnerving sense of the expression, he gets a buzz off leaving you wondering, and takes great satisfaction in knowing you’re probably thinking about him.

 However, he expects you to be there whenever he needs you, regardless of circumstance. And if you’re not? You’ll have consequences to face.

I’m sorry to say, but there is no chance in hell you’re surviving this experience, there’s no doubt you’ll be murdered eventually. 

After all, he does get bored easily. Not so much as giving it a second thought on disposing of you once you are no longer a source of fresh entertainment for his sadistic desires.

With each passing day his treatment becomes increasingly brutal, searching for new ways to fulfil that empty feeling in his heart and cold, hollow look in his eyes. Don’t even bother trying to save him, not even he would know where to start.

Every night as you shut your eyes on the hardwood floor beside his bed, you can’t help but wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever close them.

And for your sake? You’d better hope it is.

Charming you with the humour of a Jester and putting on a show, he’ll make it certain every time you laugh, will be paid back with tears twofold. 

Kageyama - The Majesties Tyrant

Danger level: 7/10

Kneel before your highness or face his wrath. Kageyama Tobio is the most commanding of them all. Permanently trapped in his dictatorship with no hope of revolt. 

He doesn’t become set on things very often, but once he does it’s something he’ll never give up until he’s conquered it wholly.

Stubborn, moody, domineering and demanding. With just enough of a soft side he uses to persuade you back again. 

Fuelled by ego, pride, and a sense of superiority, he will never stop until he has your total obedience.

Being the dense man he is, this is usually achieved through simplistic means of intimidation and threats of aggression.

Kageyama will not hesitate to raise his fist and back you into a corner, cowering in recoil at his menacing aura that itches to do damage

You will do what he says, whenever he needs it, no if’s but’s or objections.

For such a hard headed ruler, he’s surprisingly childish and unsure about how to express anything other than abuse.

I think a part of him genuinely does like you, but it’s far too clouded by his toxic nature that it could never be seen as even slightly redeemable.

The most you’ll ever get out of Kageyama is the occasional hug, in which he squeezes you far to tight and resurfaces the pain of last nights bruises.

He doesn’t resort to physical violence often, as he is always reprimanded by the team to control his anger. If only they knew what he was like behind closed doors. I suppose you could credit it to Karasuno that he hasn’t accidentally killed you yet.

Yet.

When it comes to matters in the bedroom, he is focused solely on his own gratification, yours being a second thought he never so much as acknowledges.

Collared and threaded by  chain, you will crawl beside him and take it all until you’re gasping for air. The only thing he cares about is climaxing and leaving you with the cleanup.

He’s quite self conscious, so don’t expect much physical affection unless he’s chasing a particularly intense release.

Kageyama is highly jealous and frequently painted green with envy, so expect your social life to dwindle significantly once he has his hands on you, literally and metaphorically.

Thankfully, he won’t isolate you entirely, but it’s enough to leave you feeling segregated from the rest of the world. A lone member of his regime that you are forever trapped in with no chance of escape.

Bow down with a meek mutter of “Yes...master.” His crown will twinkle in the moonlight as a symbol of your everlasting enslavement.

The king of the court, and the ruler of your heart.

[the-nysh]

Garou is a pretty controversial character in one punch man subreddit. What are your thoughts on this?

For as much as he’s genuinely popular and well-loved over there for sure, it’s also a big enough place where it’s true you’ll find no shortage of threads & comments from the other side of the spectrum too. (The most volatile ones often get downvoted and/or deleted however.) From those who openly express their dislike to flat-out hatred of him, yes.

You’ll often recognize a pattern from them though (and they stick out to me like a sore thumb). Most commonly from newer fans of the series who’ve only read parts of the manga (so their understanding of him is incomplete or doesn’t make sense to them yet, recognizable from those who label him an irredeemable ‘horrible person’ or incorrectly a hero killer like Stain for ex), or who’ve speed-read the webcomic and missed things without connecting the dots about him yet after his big end-arc reveal, but who still come to express their distaste, frustration, or general confusion over understanding his arc as a whole. And because there’s still so much of that reader confusion abound, it’s no surprise why ONE’s had to portray manga!Garou with much less ambiguity compared to the wc, with more obvious reader hand-holding, for instance. That’s the writing trade-off (clarity over subtlety more open to interpretation), even though mischaracterizations still happen from those who hastily jump the gun (not ONE’s fault), but I still love the expanded depth and extra attention ONE’s given his character in the manga. So it’s like ONE & Murata have long noticed those readers’ perceptions to overall modify things for the better, I feel.

So in general, those types of reddit threads aren’t so much a problem, since they usually get the clarification needed from other posters (avid Garou fans) chiming in to correct them (repeatedly with patience!), and leave them newly educated with a fresh perspective and/or appreciation for what ONE’s done. I honestly feel like it really shouldn’t be their job to continually put in the work (like a broken record) for other readers’ sake or (lack of) comprehension, and I may not phrase or approach things the same way they do, or have the same rigid interpretation of Garou as some of them, but I appreciate their dedication and vigilance to defend & address the misinformation about his character all the same. :’) (For example, this user often has insightful and niche things to say about him, different from most others there, which is worth checking out.) 

What’s notably not so nice (and what I see as more of a problem) are those other veteran repeat haters, who jump in framing their arguments in ways that sound smart & logical (easily persuading the gullible under the verbose guise of ‘literary analysis’), but when you actually read what else they’re saying, instead of allowing others to see Garou in a new light (informing in a helpful way), their claims contribute towards the opposite: deliberately misleading others in an echo chamber of blatant misinformation. (Which is what I dislike; they can dislike Garou all they want, but don’t do that towards manipulating the trust of the impressionable.) Long story short, I remember exactly who they are too, so I know who to avoid or treat all their takes non-seriously and skeptically with a grain of salt (which is applicable in other fandoms too).

For example, there’s a guy who always bashes on Garou and his purpose in the story, making sweeping claims about his character (in bad faith) and what opm should be about according to him, while also admitting he skips over every fight and chapter without Saitama in it (instant ding to his trust & credibility). It’s then no wonder he ‘hates’ Garou when he’s deliberately chosen to brush all his content and development under the rug. :| (Just don’t sway others to believe what you already admitted knowing nothing about!) There’s another guy who always describes Garou in poor light and condescendingly ‘corrects’ anyone when the anti-hero vs anti-villain conversations come up again, while conveniently ignoring the very words from ONE himself (instant checkmate):

Garou is an “anti-hero,” but I thought he should be more “anti-Saitama” – otherwise, he’d be the same as the other monsters. I didn’t want to show the limits of his potential. He might not be able to win now, but I wanted people to think that if he continues to grow as a monster, he might just be able to fight on the same level as Saitama. The anime emphasized his viciousness, his youth, his whimsical kindness, and his recklessness, which made me look forward to his future.  

So taking everything in, I’d love to see how those Garou naysayers would ‘school’ ONE, the professional writer here, with that same fervor they profess to know more about his own work than him, cause I’ll trust the words of the author over what ‘proof’ they’ll try to convince others on the internet with. :P I suppose overall, just trust your gut and use your best informed judgment, to be aware (of who’s being genuinely helpful or an ass) and navigate the subreddit responsibly.

[giorno-plays-piano]

You were all I wanted Part 3

Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, human trafficking, mentions of non-con, minor character’s death.

Words: 1600.

Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.

Part 1

Part 2

P.S. Peter is an adult!

This chapter turned out to be shorter, but it's still pretty eventful. Hope you're going to like it <3

___________

"But what... what if he won't like me? What if he'll take me away?" You sobbed, panic taking over you as you imagined Tony Stark pressing a gun to your forehead.

"No, he'd never do that." Peter left a little kiss behind your ear. "Mr. Stark doesn't take the gifts he's made back. You don't have to be afraid of that."

You sniffed at his words. That's what you were now. A gift. A possession. A pet whose job was keeping its master happy. You had to be grateful you were given to someone like Peter, at least. You didn't know whether he would always treat you kindly, but as of now he had never threatened to hurt you. You could only pray for him to fancy you so he wouldn't throw you away like some garbage - apparently, Tony Stark treated his women exactly like that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Of course, you got upset." Peter cuddled with you some more, but you weren't sure whether he was being sincere. Wasn't he sending you a clear message?

Don't go against me or you'll end just like her.

"Oh, I have an idea. Let's go out! Do you wanna see the movie or something?"

You did your best to wipe away your tears and stared at the boy, perplexed. "What?"

"We have a nice little cinema not far from here. We could go right now, just let me check what they've having today."

"But didn't you say I can't leave this place?"

"I meant without me." He showed you the same smug smirk Stark was wearing all the time, and you lowered your gaze to Peter's chest instead. "With me close you can go wherever you want to."

Funny thing to say. In thruth, you could go wherever he wanted to take you.

"Wow, they're having Beyond Darkness in 30 min! We gotta go, you'll loooove this."

"Sure."

In five minutes you were already hurrying after Peter and trying to look nowhere but your shoes. Regardless of what was there in Stark's Tower, you didn't want to see it, not even mentioning all those guys with guns scattered across the building. Peter was saying his hello to each and every one of them as if he were some mafia's social butterfly.

Whatever. You knew Peter was Tony's favorite not because he had a pretty face. You had never particularly asked what his role in all this was, but it was obviously something way bigger than running errands for the gang. Maybe it was better to never figure it out.

"Hey girl, wanna have fun?" Somebody to your left asked you, and you flinched involuntarily, keeping your head low.

Peter stopped in the very same second and sent the stranger a hard look.

"Mike, you offer my girl drugs one more time and I'm gonna shoot your cute little brother in the leg, you hear me?"

You raised your eyes to Peter's smiling face and regretted it immediately. There was something so dark in his gaze you wanted to turn around and run until you were back to your room, hiding somewhere in the corner.

"Shit! Sorry, Spidey!" The guy's high-pitched voice sounded frightened. "Didn't know you got a girl!"

"Yeah, yeah, see you later, we're kind of busy now." Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you away, heading to the exit. "I forgot to mention before that we don't do drugs. At all. They're good for business, but not for us, ok, Baby?"

"Yes, Peter." You answered and kept chewing your lips, thinking of all the things he had just said. You suspected him to be more ruthless when you weren't around, but never to such extent. How damn scary was real Peter Parker?

"And don't worry, I'd never shoot his brother in whatever part of his body." The boy said it like it was something obvious and you didn't even need to pay attention to it.

Why then did that guy look completely horrified?

When you had finally stepped outside and felt the wind playing with your hair you were ready to cry. Just walking out of the Tower was a fucking torture.

It was already dark, and you pulled the zipper on your pretty blue jacket up, going almost shoulder to shoulder with Peter. Normally you'd be at least a little scared to walk the streets of a big city at night, but the guy your mother had warned you about was already holding your hand.

The place the boy brought you to was truly small but cozy with nice vintage red seats, the delicious smell of caramel popcorn spreading everywhere. It turned out that the movie was something in between Star Wars and Star Trek, which wasn't surprising because Peter was a sucker for anything related to sci-fi. Anyway, it wasn't bad and you actually enjoyed watching it. The movie helped you to keep your mind off your earlier encounter with the drug trafficker and the words Peter said.

The only way to live like that and stay sane was to turn a blind eye to anything that happened around, you thought. It was cowardly and revolting, but what could you do against one of the most, if not the most, dangerous gangs in New York? Surely, even if by some miracle you could flee the Tower and go to police, would they really be willing to help you? No, they would return you to Mr. Stark. You were a hundred percent sure he got it covered.

"Are you feeling tired, Baby?"

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Peter who smiled at you so lovingly it could make any girl cry.

"Just a little bit."

"Want me to give you a massage when we gonna get home?" His expression quickly turned devious, and he winked at you.

Yeah, great, now you'd have him fucking you before your knees were giving out. The kid had such stamina he could be an Olympic athlete, no less.

"Aw, I love when you blush like that." Chuckling, he put his arm around your shoulders and inched closer to give you a quick peck on the lips. You forced youself to enjoy his little signs of affection and start thinking you ought to be thankful he wasn't into heavy BDSM practices or something like that.

While you two were kissing again, you heard someone's loud footsteps as if this person just jumped out of the corner, and then there was a hateful outburst, "Stay were you are. Your wallets, quick!"

You froze, your hands getting cold as you stared at the face of a guy standing in front of you with a knife in his hands. He was clearly unstable, sick - you could see the dark circles around his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, and his greasy hair sticking to his forehead. You didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was twice bigger than Peter. The guy would probably have no problem with slicing both him and you into pieces if you didn't comply.

"I said g-"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Peter let out a frustrated sigh before you heard the loud sound of the gun firing.

There was a little black hole in the guy's chest, blood seeping through his dirty white t-shirt and coloring it in a beautiful deep ruby color. You could see the confusion in the eyes of the stranger, his mouth half-open. Slowly, he went down before his legs gave out and he landed at the ground with a loud thud. He didn't move after that.

"Come on, attacking a couple of high shoolers? You're such a psycho, man. Who were you gonna go after us? Kids?" Peter rolled his eyes and hid the gun under his bomber, turning away from the man he murdered and shouting to someone behind him. "It's ok, people! It's just me, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! Calm down, go home, it's late!"

You were still staring at the large pool of blood spreading beneath the body of a stranger - lack of light made it look like it was an odd black liquid. Before you could take your eyes elsewhere, you felt bile quickly going up your throat and vomitted, moving to lean your hand on the wall of a building. He killed him. Peter killed him. You didn't even see him pulling out the gun.

"Oh Baby, I'm so sorry." The boy gently held back your hair when you threw up again, feeling scared, disgusted, feverish and cold at the same time. "That's why I don't like drugs and what they do to people. That shithead lost his mind, you see? No sane guy would ever jump on me or my girl like that."

Despite him being so tender, you couldn't even turn your head to look at him as you started shaking from his touch.

You kept emptying your stomach a few more minutes before Peter softly wiped your mouth with his handkerchief and took your arm, walking you back to the Tower and saying all those unnecessary things about how terrible some people are and how everyone has to take care in the dangerous world they're living in. You didn't hear half of that, but you cared little for his chattering.

Peter had shot the man without showing even the slightest regret. He'd shoot you the same way if you ever turned against him - he was Stark's favourite, after all.

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3

[meigh-day]

Obligation (Tendou x Reader) - Part 13

———————————————————–

Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Guns, Knives, Violence, Blood, Torture

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.6k

Previous Next

———————————————————–

So far Tendou had only seen the pictures but as he scrolled through a video loaded. It started off with a shaky angle but slowly your form came into view. You were still propped up in the corner of what he assumed to be a van, eyes closed and head bowed. A figure moved across the screen and then knelt before you, his back was to the screen, short blonde hair the only distinguishing characteristic that could be made out at the moment.

"C'mon doll, why don't you wake up and have some fun." He cooed out in an attempt to coax you awake before reaching a hand out. He pressed three fingers and a thumb roughly into your cheeks and pulled up so your face was now facing towards the camera. Your lips parted from the pressure on each side of your face, so he decided to take the opportunity to stick his index finger inside your mouth. He wiggled it around, dragging the pad of his finger across your tongue, a visible shiver ran through him.

"Dude, don't be a fucking pervert..." The camera holder spoke, obviously uncomfortable with the turn this had taken. The blonde man turned his face slightly, giving the other a side eyed glare before pulling his finger out and wiping the saliva he had gathered across your cheek and chin. With a sigh the man released your face and stood, the video cut as your head started to fall to the side once again.

The next few pictures showed you in a new setting, this time on the bare floor of a room. The way you were crumpled up on the ground almost made it seem like someone had just dropped you in a pile on the floor and walked away. Finally, Tendou was facing the last two videos, he wanted to stop watching, it was equal parts heartbreaking and enraging to see the state you were in. Yet, he had to see, he needed to know what happened next, he needed to see what they had done to you. Tendou was absolutely frothing with rage after seeing that disgusting goon stick his vile finger in your mouth.

The next video is short, only about 15 seconds. You are seated in a chair, your arms and legs bound to the chairs arms and legs. Your torso was held fast to the back of the chair by more restraints. At first your face is angled down and away but at the sound of your name, you stir. Your head was throbbing and your body ached, someone was calling out to you but the lights just seemed so bright so for several seconds you just glance around in confusion, blinking rapidly as you try to shield your eyes. You want to cover your eyes with your hands but you can't seem to make them move. It takes a few more seconds for you to realize you can't move, your eyes widen as you realize why. As the room comes into focus, the realization hitting you, you look up in the direction of the phone. The last thing Tendou sees before the video cuts is you, wide eyed as tears slip down your cheeks.

For several seconds all he can do is stare at the screen, the final frame of your frightened face frozen on his screen. This was all his fault. Despite not know for certain why you had left, there was no doubt it was connected to the way he had treated you over the last few days. As a result you were now in danger, you'd already taken at least one hit according to the bruises on the side of your face and then that thug had put his hands on you. There was one final video left, all he could hope for was that you were in one piece and alive at the end.

This video is longer but you are now awake, a neutral expression on your features, a similar expression to the one you had given Tendou the day before.

"Why don't you say hello to your fiancé, little cutie?"

You lift your gaze to the side, looking to the person who was speaking just out of frame. "Look I don't know who you think I am but I don't mean anything to him or anyone else." It hurt to say the words out loud. Words that others might have cried out in desperation, hoping the lie would be believed. However, you knew those words to be true and what you were about to say would have had you in tears if not for the perilous situation you currently found yourself in. "I'm just....some girl he got saddled with." You hoped using the cruel words Tendou had said, the very words that had broken your heart, would prove to these thugs you were speaking the truth but as a grin spread on the mans lips, you knew it had been futile to even try.

"Now now, no need to be so modest Y/N..."

This guy was really irritating, an odd thought to have while being captured for sure but it was true. This whole situation was terrifying but also just really annoying. How had they even known where to find you? Had they just been lurking around town on the off chance you went for a midnight stroll? You sigh, shaking your head as you glance away. "You do realize it's an arranged marriage, right?"

"And?"

You look back over at him, narrowing your eyes a bit as if you were confused. "Are you stupid or something?" The words just came out and before you had time to regret what you had said the man was suddenly in front of you.

"Stupid?" His voice was low, an edge of anger in that one word. His back was to the camera but it was easy to tell that he was a tall and well built, his short cropped hair initially seemed light brown but as he moved it almost looked pink at times. He glowered down at you. "You should learn to watch your mouth little girl." Before you had time to brace yourself he had already completed the swing. Pain flooded your senses as your mind worked to sort out what had happened. Really all he had done was slap you across the face but the force he had used had your vision spotted with white. Blood appeared a moment later on your lips a small bit trickling down your chin as you tried to focus again.

"Now, why don't we try this again." His hand grabbed onto your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he leaned down. "Beg like the bitch you are for that psychopath to come save you."

You grimace as he holds your head still, your face still burning with pain. As you slowly began to center your gaze on him, a smirk pulled at your red stained lips. "Drop dead asshole." His fingers dug into your cheek causing you to wince in his grasp. It felt like he was going to crush your jaw in his hand but after a moment he let go and took a few steps back. "This obviously isn't working. Shido, give it a shot." He turned and disappeared off camera. For a moment you were sat alone on the screen, head still throbbing as tears, you hadn't realized you'd shed, dried on your cheeks. Footsteps could be heard approaching and soon you were join by another man. He was shorter and slimmer than the previous guy, with black wavy hair that hung in his eyes. As he approached you, a sadistic grin stretched across his lips, it was hidden from the camera but your eyes widened slightly upon seeing it. He knelt to the side of your chair and all you could do was watch as he pulled the bandage off your finger. He slide the pad of his finger across the still healing skin, his touch was gentle at first but soon his thumb was being driven down causing you to yelp out.

"What the fuck...get off me!" You hissed out, trying and failing to pull your hand out of his grip. The restraints held your arm fast to the chair, severely limiting your movement. The man looked up at you with such perverse pleasure at your reaction it had you wishing you'd been able to remain silent.

"So pretty...." He whispered, returning his gaze to the wound on your finger. He pressed down into again, an involuntary hiss leaving your lips. As if what he'd been doing wasn't bad enough, he decided to amp it up. He placed one finger on either side of the injury and pulled viciously in opposite directions. His grip was crushing and no matter how you wriggled your hand you couldn't get free of his grip.

"Sto-AHH!!" As the skin finally gave away, blood welled and quickly began to weep, gathering in your palm. You threw your head back, eyes closed shut as you let out a short, frantic, shriek of agony.

"Enough." The man from before commanded from off camera, the man at your side frowned but let go of your hand and retreated out of frame. Tears spilled across your cheeks as you trembled in silence, sparing a brief glance up at the camera before looking away. You looked almost ashamed, embarrassed for letting them get to you. You hated that they had made you scream, you felt weak and humiliated for sitting here crying. The screen went black signaling that the video had come to an end.

Tendou was shaking, darkened red eyes shifting upwards. Yamagata had seen this look before, whatever had been on that phone must not have been good, he'd only been able to hear a few snippets but it sounded bad.

"Boss..."

"Round up the team. I'm gonna talk to Jin and Reon. We either take care of Seijoh now or I do it myself."

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Facing the Unknown

Characters: Spencer Reid x Winchester!Reader, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, demons

Word Count: 3,583

Warnings: supernatural/criminal minds crossover, angst, fluff, nothing too bad

Summary: A case pops up to the infamous BAU city. Demons doesn’t mix well with real FBI agents, but you manage to save them all just fine.

Squares Filled: crime scene for @cmbingo // flattery will get you nowhere for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // bleeding through the bandages in @badthingshappenbingo // enochian for my first heaven and hell bingo card // case fic for @heavenandhellbingo​

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

You can figure out a lot of things: why you don’t have the body you really want (you love pizza too damn much), why Dean doesn’t like to talk about his feelings (daddy issues), why Sam drank demon blood (Ruby made him do it), and why you can’t ever stop hunting (there will always be monsters). The only things you can’t figure out are angels and demons, more so the former.

Out of all the monsters you’ve dealt with, angels are the worst. They have a tendency to stick their noses in everyone’s business whether they are involved or not. Demons have a reason to do the exact same thing: they are spawns of Satan himself so they love to cause trouble and chaos. Angels just do it because they have nothing better to do. The only angel you like is Castiel, and even then it’s 50/50.

You’ve learned to love hunting. You know you’re going to spend the rest of your life doing it, so you may as well get along with the lifestyle instead of fighting it. Sam and Dean have learned the same lesson as you, so you’re not fazed when Sam says, “so get this”. You’ve adjusted to spending a few hours dedicated to sleep that having back to back hunts don’t even faze you anymore. However, this hunt, this specific hunt, has already drained your batteries and you’ve just started.

You stare at the dead body in front of you inside the morgue. There are three dead bodies with Enochian carved into their skin. Each of them is males and each of them has the same symbol on their chests. Castiel swears the angels have nothing to do with what’s been happening in this small town. Only men have been dropping dead for no reason. The angel thinks the demons are responsible for it, but you don’t know why they are carving Enochian symbols on their chests. They must be getting ready for some kind of ritual or spell, but Castiel doesn’t know what kind of ritual or spell that would need Enochian symbols on humans.

“How many more people have to die for us to understand what these demons are doing?” you ask with a sigh.

“This symbol means to summon death,” Castiel informs.

“Summon death? What, they can’t use speed dial? What do they want with Death?” Dean asks.

“If I knew that, then we would be able to stop them,” Castiel says. “However, the demons aren’t showing themselves until it’s too late. If we are going to try and stop them, then we need to get inside their heads before they make their next move.”

“Well, we have pictures of everything, so I say we grab some take out and beer, and think about this at the motel,” you suggest.

“I second that,” Your eldest brother grins.

“Shotgun!” you yell as you race to the car.

“Hey!” Sam scoffs.

“Sorry Sammy, you snooze you lose!” you stick your tongue out at him and get in through the passenger side.

After everyone is in, Dean peels out of the parking lot and heads straight to the best burger joint in this city. Something you and your brother like to do is to scope out the best burger places before starting the case. You’d cruise with him throughout the town and gather intel from the locals before trying the top three. The best, so far, has been Joe’s Burger Joint that has the juiciest meat you’ve ever tasted. You’ve begged the owner to give you the recipe so that Dean can make it back at the Bunker. However, he hasn’t given it up just yet.

Once you have the food in your possession, Dean heads back to the motel room. Castiel doesn’t eat (that’s another thing you couldn’t figure out) so he just sits on the bed while you and your brothers take up the small tab;e by the window. He’s staring intently at the pictures while you eat your burger. The TV is on a news channel, but it’s at a low volume so it’s not too distracting. You thought it was a good idea to put it on in case there might be another death regarding your angelic symbols.

“I can’t believe you don’t like meat, Sammy,” you groan after swallowing the delicious bite.

“I do like meat. I just don’t treat it like it’s going out of style,” he says in disgust as you and Dean scarf down your food.

“More for us,” Dean says with his mouth full.

It’s all smiles and jokes now until you get a glimpse at the TV. On the news is a headline stating there has been another body. However, it’s all the way across the fucking country. All the deaths so far have been in Texas, so why is there a new one in Virginia?

“Guys, look,” you state once your mouth is clear of food.

All heads turn to the TV and you turn it up.

“FBI officials have stated that the recent deaths in Texas may be linked to the newest one. Authorities haven’t commented on what’s been going on, but that doesn’t stop the public from speculating. There are a bunch of questions still left to be answered, so all we can do now is wait. Jim, back to you,” the female reporter states.

“Why are they targeting people in Virginia now?” you wonder.

“Maybe we’ve been looking at this wrong. Maybe it’s not the town they are interested in, but the people,” Castiel says.

“Let’s hope that by the time we get there the FBI hasn’t already contaminated the crime scene. I may act like one, but they are the real dicks,” you scoff.

“I can get us there in a few seconds if you prefer,” Castiel stands up.

“That’s one of the very few good things about you,” you smile. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Dean declares.

Dean made Castiel bring baby along since he didn’t want to be thousands of miles away from her. It was a lot harder to conceal a big fucking car as it appears out of thin air, but Castiel picked a good spot to go to. The crime scene isn’t that far from where you are, and you’re thankful you got dressed in your FBI get up before leaving. You know you’ll be here for the rest of the night, so you went online and bought two rooms at a small hotel that’s near the crime scene. One for you and the other one for your brothers. Castiel doesn’t need one since he doesn’t sleep. It’s best to think ahead.

Dean rushes over to the crime scene which is thankfully still intact. A handful of FBI agents are still inside, but it looks like most of the general population has lost interest. There is only one standard FBI car in the driveway, so you’re not too worried about having to trick only a few of them. Your surrogate dad is only a phone call away if these guys question who you are. You get out of the car and make your way inside.

“When I said that the FBI are dicks, I forgot to mention hot because damn, he is fine,” you whistle lowly to your eldest brother when you spot a very attractive agent in the room.

He has brown curly hair that looks a little messy, but a put-together messy. He’s very tall but not as tall as Sam. He’s probably the same height as Dean. You can’t hear what he saying to his fellow agents, but you can hear the sound of his voice. It’s not deep at all, but it does make your knees weak. You have never seen a more perfect human being on this planet. If things go south, then you’ll be sure to protect him.

“Keep it in your pants, sister,” Dean grumbles just as one of the agents noticed the newcomers.

“Who are you?” a black man asks as he reaches for his gun.

He, the very attractive man, and a petite blonde woman all stare at you, the angel, and your brothers.

“This is a closed crime scene,” the blonde woman says.

“We’re agents Barry Young, Frank Bartley, Madison Grey, and Jason Brown. We’ve been sent here to check out the crime,” you state and show them your badges as does everyone else.

“We weren't informed of another team coming down here. You mind if I speak to your supervisor?” the black man asks.

“Sure,” you say and hand him Bobby’s card.

He takes it and steps off to the side.

“Who are you guys?” you ask.

“I’m Jennifer Jareau, that’s Derek Morgan, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re from the BAU right here in Quantico” the blonde says.

“Ooh, the cute one has a cute name. And he’s a doctor,” you grin.

“Excuse me?” Spencer stutters.

“You’ll have to excuse her. She can’t seem to put a cork in it,” Dean chuckles.

“What?” you scoff and turn to Spencer with a sweet smile. “So, what are you a doctor for?”

“It’s PhDs, actually. Three of them, not a medical one.”

“So, if I collapsed right here and now, you wouldn't give me mouth-to-mouth?” you pout teasingly.

“I know CPR,” he mutters and you just smirk.

“You’re cute when you blush,” you comment and turn to Jennifer. “I hope he’s not your boyfriend.”

“No, I’m married,” she chuckles.

“Do you have a girlfriend, doctor?” you ask.

“No,” he chuckles.

“This must be my lucky day then,” you grin.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he states.

“Then I guess I’ll have to work extra hard for your attention.”

“I don’t know who you guys think you are, but you’re not FBI,” Derek says when he steps back into the room.

Both Jennifer and Spencer tense when they realize you’re pretending to be FBI agents.

“That’s a federal offense, do you realize that?” he says with a hard glare.

“Look, we can explain,” Dean starts to say.

However, every single light in this house turned off, shrouding you eight in complete darkness. The only light available is coming from the moon outside.

“Are there more of you?” Derek demands to know and takes out his gun.

“They’re here,” Castiel says.

“The demons? Why?”

“I’m not sure. We’re on their territory.”

“Okay, listen,” you turn to the real FBI agents. “We’re not FBI, but we are going to save your life if you listen to what we say. These bodies that have been turning up are because demons are carving Enochian symbols on these people’s chests. We don’t know why, but they’re up to something big. So, for your safety, listen to what we say,” you explain quickly.

“Like hell we’re taking orders from you,” Jennifer growls.

“Castiel,” a demon says from the corner of the room where the body is. “Surprised to see you here.”

“You’re carving Enochian symbols. Of course, I’d be here.”

“Where did he come from?” Derek demands.

“Okay, we need to go. Please, just follow me,” you urge and grab Spencer and Jennifer’s wrists.

You drag both agents to the door but stop short when another demon pops up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he chuckles and walks inside.

“This battle is between you and me. Let them go,” you glare.

“I don’t think so,” he growls.

He clenches his right hand into a fist, and your throat starts to close up. He raises you off the ground using his demonic powers, and you have no choice but to take it.

“You see, we have a few more people to claim as our own, but I can see you brought us some toys to play with,” he grins maliciously.

“How is he doing that?” Spencer whispers to his colleagues.

“Go to hell,” you bite back.

“Been there, done that. But I’ll send you,” he laughs and throws you across the room and into the dining room table.

“Leave her alone!” Spencer yells and raises his gun at the man. He shoots him in the head, but it does nothing. The host inside the body is already dead. “What the hell?”

The demon uses his powers to lift all three people and throw them in the same direction as you. They collide with the wall in a loud thump.

“No!” you grunt and force yourself to your feet.

“What the hell is that?” Derek yells.

“A demon! I wasn’t lying before. They’re here for the body. My brothers and I are hunters. We deal with this shit all the time. Come on, follow me!” you urge and help them up.

They don’t argue with you after seeing what just happened. You lead them to the kitchen and rummage through the cabinets until you see the salt. You grab a few containers and gather the agents to the middle of the room. You begin to pour a circle around their feet despite them yelling at you to tell them what’s going on.

“Just stay in here! Do not pass over the salt line. They can’t get you in here. I promise,” you beg.

“That’s not going to stop me from getting to them,” the same demon grins from the door.

“Dean!” you yell.

“We’re kind of busy!” he shouts back, but the shout turns int a groan at the end.

There must be more demons now than the two that showed up.

You reach behind you to take out Ruby’s knife since you’re the one who holds onto it. Your dad trained your brothers how to shoot guns, and he trained you how to fight with a knife. You know how to shoot guns, but your specialty is knives, so Sam trusted you with Ruby’s knife. You barely have a grip on the handle when the demon flings you across the room and into some cabinets. You feel something pierce your side, and you look back to see the knife block containing the kitchen knives have fallen. One fell right int your side, but you have to ignore the pain if you’re going to help the agents. Spencer starts to move out of the circle, but you put your left hand up to stop him.

“No! Don’t leave the circle!” you yell and yank out the knife.

“I can make you come out, you know,” the demon chuckles as his eyes turn pitch black.

“Get the hell away from them!” you yell.

You grab one of the kitchen knives and throw it at the demon. It lands right in the middle of his back, and he just sighs and turns to you. You grab some paper towels and press them against your wound, using the waistband of your pants to keep it in place. Spencer’s eyes widen when he sees the man isn’t affected by the knife in his back. You reach for Ruby’s knife and reveal it, twirling it in your hands.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you grunt.

Your wound is bleeding profoundly, but you’ve lost more blood than this and still could fight. You’re going to be okay.

“I wasn’t trying to, but maybe I should,” he growls.

He runs at you, and you swipe the knife across his arm as you pass by him. He yells out in pain, but that only makes him angrier. You almost slide right into the salt circle, but Spencer reaches out to stop you before you had a chance to ruin it. Without saying anything else, you charge at the demon once more and pounce on his back. He struggles to get you off him, but you’re not in the mood to play games. You swing the knife right into his chest, and he cries out in pain. His entire skeleton glows bright orange as he dies, and he collapses to the ground like dead weight.

“Dean!” you yell.

“We’re okay. We took care of them. One of them got away with the body, but the rest are dead,” he says as he, Sam, and Castiel walk into the kitchen.

“You guys came come out now,” you whisper as you fall back into the kitchen table.

Spencer rushes over to you and lifts up your shirt to see your blood staining the paper towels.

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No. There are too many dead bodies here. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding out, Madison.”

“My name is Y/N Winchester. It’s only fair that you know,” you cough.

“Come here,” Dean says and helps you sit on the table.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jennifer asks.

“I’ll heal her,” Castiel says and walks over to you.

He presses two fingers to your forehead, and your wound disappears. Your side is only bloody from your blood, but the wound is gone. Spencer, Derek, and Jennifer back away slowly.

“That’s not possible,” she says.

“It is. You’ve just been living inside a bubble for your entire lives. You deal with serial killers and human predators. We deal with the supernatural and monsters. We’re not so different. Those were demons and they’ve carved angelic symbols into the victim’s chests. Castiel is an angel. Monsters do exist, but you don’t have to worry about that because we take care of it. I’m sorry we brought the battle to you,” you reveal.

“What are we going to tell Hotch?” Derek asks his team.

“Tell him or don’t. I wouldn’t. The supernatural isn’t something that needs to be broadcasted. If people find out, then they panic, and panic and chaos are made for monsters. People become vulnerable. If you want to know more about how you can help or if you want to determine if your case is human or not, then we’ll tell you more, but leave the supernatural to us.”

“Come on, we got to go,” Dean urges.

“I’ll take care of the bodies,” Castiel says and touches the dead one on the kitchen floor.

He disappears with the body and all three agents jump back from shock.

“I’ll be right there,” you say to your brothers.

“Good luck with this one,” he scoffs at Spencer before taking his leave with Sam.

“I need to call Hotch anyway and tell him why we’re going to be late,” Derek says and leaves as well.

“I’m going to go with him,” Jennifer smiles and exits the kitchen so it’s just you and Spencer now.

“It’s a shame that I won’t have more time trying to woo you, but here’s my number. Call me whenever you’re curious,” you say and hand him one of your cards.

“I can’t believe this is all real.”

“Believe it gorgeous. The world is a scary place. You know this because humans are ruthless. Monsters are worse. Don’t let it get to you.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I could walk. Don’t waste your tears on me. My family is all sorts of messed up, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t want to see a frown line on that pretty face.”

“Okay,” he chuckles.

“Damn, you really have it all. Great hair, gorgeous eyes, and a stunning smile. You must get all the ladies.”

“It’s less than you think.”

“Well, official count me as one. We have more hunts to do, but we are spending the night in this town. It’d be a shame if I didn’t get to say goodbye to you properly. I’ll be having my own room away from my brothers. I’d hate to spend it alone,” you flirt.

“That’s good to know,” he chuckles nervously.

“I know we just met, but I’d beat myself up if I didn’t do this,” you say.

You grab his cheeks and pull him down to you, placing your lips over his. It’s not weird for you to kiss someone you just met. Meeting guys in bars and playing pool with them does have its advantages. Apparently, this isn’t something new with Spencer because as soon as your lips touched his, his whole demeanor changed. He grips your hair in his hands and kisses you with passion. He doesn’t know why he’s behaving this way to a woman he just met, but there has been fire between you two ever since your initial contact.

His lips move smoothly over yours, and you open your mouth to grant his access. His tongue slips in for a brief moment before you pull away. There are about two inches of space between you two, and you look into his lust-blown eyes.

“You really know how to kiss,” you whisper.

“That’s not the only thing I know how to do.”

“Please come to my hotel room. I bet I can get my brothers to stay an extra day. I’m staying at the Suburban Extended Stay Hotel room 318. Do you need me to write it down?”

“No, I got it,” he shakes his head.

“Then I’ll be waiting,” you smirk and lean up to his ear to whisper to him. “Bring your handcuffs.”

You pull away from him with a wink and leave the kitchen. He doesn’t know who you are, but he likes the kind of woman you are. He normally doesn’t go out with women like you, but there is something exciting inside you. He’s definitely going to visit you tonight, and he’s definitely going to make sure you remember him well after you two have already parted ways.

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[muses14]

The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (Review)

Type: Chinese Novel (BL) Genre: Xianxia Author: Mo Xiang Tong Xiu Rating: ★★ (2.5)

Summary: “Can’t I properly read stallion novels anymore!”

Shen Yuan transmigrated into someone who’d tormented the young male lead almost to death, the scum villain Shen Qingqiu.

It must be known, the original Shen Qingqiu ended up being carved alive by his disciple, Luo Binghe, into a human stick, a human stick!

Ten thousand “f*ck your moms” rampaged through Shen Qingqiu’s heart:

“It’s not that I don’t want to cling to the male lead’s thighs, but who made him so f*cking black. The type who seeks thousand-fold retribution!”

Why have all the female lead’s scenes been forcibly given to him.

Why, as a scum villain, does he need to constantly sacrifice himself, blocking knife and gun for the protagonist!

Shen Qingqiu: “…I think I can still save him, one more time.”

Characters: Shen Qingqiu The main (supposed) villain of the novel. He gets brownie points from me for being funny. Lots of brownie points. Turns out he was ranting about a train-wreck of a web novel he had read, and ends up dying by a food related accident and gets transmigrated into the novel itself. I find it funny he treats this like it’s some kind of RPG, whether intentionally done so or not, but he settled into his new reality easily. Honestly, too easily? The system was really out to get him throughout the entire process too. Shen Qingqiu’s head voice is the best thing in this novel. He can monologue to me all day! LOL Luo Binghe The protagonist of the novel. He was such a sweet, sweet child despite all the problems he faced in life. A little kindness goes a long way, but I was not expecting him to forgive his master for all the past misfortunes and abuse by his hands simply because Shen Qingqiu saved him a few times. I felt he was a bit too pure here (perhaps to offset how he is later). He began to take shape to me as a dark and crazy person once he returned from the Endless Abyss. He became very scary and I was terrified for Shen Qingqiu.

Relationship: Their relationship has a lot issues... They both make so many assumptions of each other that it frustrates me to no end. It wouldn’t hurt for them to actually sit down, calm themselves, and have a earnest heart-to-heart talk and clear up the high mountain of misunderstandings.

All throughout I was left with the impression that Shen Qingqiu continues to look to the novel’s plot devices to try and predict how everything plays out between him and Luo Binghe. But as he can also clearly see, the plot itself deviates so many times when he least expects it... You royally veered the train-wreck so hard off its tracks (and into a different kind of train-wreck) that you can’t predict everything anymore!

I never quite got the feeling he likes Luo Binghe in a sexual manner either. To me, he would have been perfectly content to never have to bed Luo Binghe. They feel more like a father and son, or master and disciple (which ironically they are) and he gets roped into a relationship by the other. We as a reader see early on that he does indeed have interests in females. And he dropped this bombshell at some point: Big brother, even if I suffered a worse tragedy than not getting any sisters for twenty years, I wouldn’t resort to becoming a cut-sleeve! Let alone hooking up with the male protagonist! - Shen Qingqiu But he went ahead and did just this! Is Shen Qingqiu considered straight and only made an exception for Luo Binghe? Just why exactly? Is he placating Luo Binghe out of pity? Out of obligation? It’s almost as if he is continuing to raise a man-child more so than a romantic partner. Feel free to insert other possible reasons. If MXTX’s intention was to make the two seem like a real couple, she dropped the ball for me. They ooze almost zero chemistry. Luo Binghe is a manipulative, sly bastard through and through. Despite him being smarter than I think he is, he has some emotional growing up to do. Tears don’t solve everything, okay?

Supporting Characters: Liu Qingge. He and Shen Qingqiu together is some good stuff, haha. I enjoy their interactions. They vibe well together and I can picture him and Shen Qingqiu being more than just friends, but there goes out the window this lovely canon dream. MXTX doesn’t pair them together. Not even a one time fling. ;(

Tianlang Jun is surprisingly funny too, even if he is a terrible father.

Of all the females Liu Mingyan was my favorite. A girl who is both beautiful and can kick ass as well as being a fellow fujoshi? Heck, yeah. But unfortunately most weren’t memorable and I had a hard time keeping track of which character belonged to which sect, etc.

Overall: This is my first transmigration novel, so I don’t have any others to compare it to. There was one scene that bothered me a lot, because it was written in a very graphic and unpleasant way. The two main characters have issues that didn’t seem fully resolved by the end. But in general, I felt this was a light fun read that made me laugh often enough (though it’s not very well written in my opinion, sorry, and bumped it down half a star for this reason).

I dig the cute fanarts though and will continue to do so.

[ijustwant2write]

New Menu-Tony Stark x Telekinetic!Reader (Platonic)

(GIF credit to @rncu)

Masterlist

Requested by anonymous

Summary: can i please request tony at mcdonald’s eating ramen noodles with reader?

Characters: Tony Stark x Telekinetic!Reader (platonic), Peter Parker x Telekinetic!Reader (platonic), Avengers x Telekinetic!Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Slight swearing, violence, weapons, but fluff, fluff, FLUFF

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How you doing kids?” Tony said through the coms as we fought against the soldiers defending their HYDRA base.

“Doing great Mr Stark!” Peter shouted back, sounding out of breath.

“Yep, same here!” I replied, thrusting my arms forward to knock back the group of men charging towards me. 

Peter and I were going on more and more missions with the team, building up our confidence and experience as we were guided by the greatest heroes in the world. With Tony as a mentor, I felt like he was the father figure I never had, I was more control of my powers than ever before, even if I had more to learn.  

I slowly curled my hands into tight fists in front of me, focusing on the huge guns in the soldiers arms. They started to fold in half, my fists shaking as I put all my concentration into breaking the weapons. The soldiers were stunned, throwing their guns to the floor in panic. I used to hate freaking people out with my powers, but now I had turned it around and used it to my advantage. Before they could get away, I threw them into the air, Peter was swinging by, shooting them against the trees, making them stick there. I followed after him, this side of the perimeter now clear.

“Steve, we’re done here, we’re coming to you.”

“Alright, good job. You guys keep the outside safe whilst we head inside. Wanda and Bucky will stay out here too.” He replied.

We confirmed his orders, the four of us spreading out around the area. It was quiet, the only noise being made was the wind gently rustling the trees. I wasn’t sure whether to be very alert or to relax slightly, get my breath back. But you never knew what the enemy could be planning.

“It’s not here.” Steve suddenly said through the coms.

“What? What’s not here?” I asked, confused as to what they were looking for. Weren’t we just destroying the base?

“Let’s move out, no one is in here.” Tony added.

“Wait, what were we looking for?” Peter also asked. What weren’t we informed of.

“Come on you two,” Wanda called to us,“you heard the boss.”

“Is no one gonna tell us what we were actually here for?”

Peter and I got no response from anyone as we made our way back to the jet. We were confused. Why had we been left out of the mix? Did they have other meetings about this mission without us? I thought we were really getting somewhere with the team. As we flew back to the base, Peter and I whispered to each other, debating on what to say to the team. Should we even speak up? Would we risk everything by voicing our opinions?

“Uh, excuse me, everybody.” Peter only just got their attention.

They all looked at us as we stood up, we glanced at each other, wondering what to say next.“We just wanted to ask you all something.”

They waited.

“We were wondering why we weren’t told about this thing we were supposed to be searching for?” I nervously spat out.

The rest of the team shared looks, some confused, some with sympathy, though they all avoided our eye contact. Of course they knew something we didn’t, but if we were going to be a team, shouldn’t we have been briefed on everything? I realised we were new, but could withholding this information just cause a mess? Make something go wrong on the mission?

“Uh, well-” Natasha started, being the only one to man up and say something.

“Hey, anyone hungry? I am.” Tony randomly pointed out.

“What?” I scoffed. Why wasn’t he taking us seriously?

“I wanna take you kids for some food. You’ve gotta be hungry right?”

No one knew why he was acting like this. He never normally brushed off a question like this, or us in general. Everyone on the jet seemed confused about Tony’s sudden outburst, he sounded like a child begging his parents for food. 

“Drop us off here. There’s a McDonald's right there.”

“Tony, what are you doing?” Nat almost hissed at him. 

“I’ll talk to them don’t worry.” He had mumbled that last part, but we heard it.

Hesitantly, the jet was landed in an almost empty parking lot. People passing by gawked, wondering what on Earth was going on. Peter and I held back as Tony casually walked off the jet, now out of his suit. Peter had quickly got out of his, as had I, though it was a struggle to keep up with Tony who could easily walk out of his. Stumbling after him, the jet lifted, the wind blowing against us as we walked on. I wasn’t sure what to think of this. Was Tony taking the piss? Was this somehow a way of treating us like children? When we entered the McDonald’s, all eyes had been on Iron Man as we trailed behind. He ordered us to sit down, going up to the counter by himself. It wasn’t busy in there, making it all the more obvious who was continually watching us.

Tony briskly walked over with a tray, sitting across from Peter and I. He handed out the food, my annoyance growing with every second. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Tony, why are-”

“OK, so I know that this is totally random, but they’ve come out with this new line of ramen noodles, and I had to try. Oh, I got cheeseburgers too, in case you didn’t like them or just want it.”

“Mr Stark, could you please tell us why we’re here?” Peter was calmer than I.

“I only came here because I really wanted to try to food. But I wanted to talk to you guys without anyone else around.”

We waited for him to continue. He dug into his food, obviously enjoying it. I decided to do the same. Might as well whilst we were here. Peter followed suit, almost rushing to catch up with us.

“I didn’t tell you guys, because I want you to take this slow.”

“Is that just a made up excuse?” I didn’t want to sound mean, and I could feel Peter tense up beside me.

“No. I remember when I first became Iron Man, I was thrown in the deep end. Most of us were. Cap had no experience in battle, yet after his experiment he was expected to go head first into fighting, Bruce had an accident and couldn’t control his new powers, Thor had to realise his true power, and Nat and Clint....well, you know what they’ve been through by just training. What I’m trying to say is that I want to teach you as best I can. Make you see the big picture of what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before? We would have understood.”

“I wanted you to learn for yourselves. You two are amazingly smart kids, I couldn’t be happier with your progress. And I’m also glad you two have the powers you have, it’s been given to the right people.”

Peter and I looked at each other, bashful at Tony’s comment.

He carried on.“By not tell you about what we were looking for, I knew you could concentrate on protecting the perimeter. If you knew about everything else, perhaps you wouldn’t be able to focus properly, but maybe you would have. However, I am not going to take a chance, not with you two.”

I groaned.“Tony, I’m so sorry for snapping. I just really want to prove myself to the team.”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to be nosy.” Peter added.

“You’ve already proved yourselves. There’s just a little training to be done, that’s all. But you’re young, younger than I’d like you to be when fighting whatever threats are out there, though that just means more experience for you both.”

“You know what’s best for us.” Peter smiled.

“Yeah,” I felt happier,“do what you think is right for us. Gotta learn from the master, right?”

“I wouldn’t call myself that.” Tony leaned back, taking another mouthful of noodles.“What do you think?”

I picked up the box, staring at the food inside.“I still prefer cheeseburgers.”

[hellfirenacht]

Can’t Be Unseen Chapter 2

Fandom: Sally Face

Ship: Sal Fisher x Reader

Chapter 2 Summary: Feed the boy, woo the boy, romance the boy. That’s only 3 things, how hard could it be?

First Chapter 

Next Chapter 

Ao3

It was warmer than it had been in the last few days as you stood outside the apartment building. Your jacket was wrapped around your waist instead of over your shoulders, which was fine with you. It'd give a better view of the outfit that you had picked out for the day. You hoped he liked it. You hoped he even noticed it. You weren't one for dressing up at school too much- it was too much work for too early in the morning. 

You looked at your phone to check the time. It was 10 minutes 'til one. You still had a little bit of time before Sal showed up. 

"Hey there." 

Or not. Right, Sally was a good guy who actually showed up early to things like this. It was one of the things you really liked about him- he was never ever late. You smiled at him and looked him over. He was still wearing his usual outfit of a black long sleeved shirt and his ripped jeans but today he had let his hair down and was wearing a beanie today. 

"Hey there." you replied. "No pigtails today?" 

Sal shook his head. "Larry got me this hat, but it's a bit awkward to wear pigtails at the same time." 

"That's ok, you look great." you winked at him. "I'm pretty lucky." 

"Heh, thanks." his voice sounded a little flustered and you couldn't help but feel a little proud. 

"Shall we?" you asked offering your hand, and to your surprise he took it. 

"Let's go!" 

...

The festival was just a few blocks from the apartment building, in the nearby park. It was bigger than you had thought it'd be- from a distance you could see a Ferris wheel, and the smell of popcorn and corn dogs wafted through the air. You thought back to your plan and imagined all the things that you were going to do with Sal today. 

You were gonna romance the shit out of this boy. 

"There's a lot of people here already" Sal commented, looking around. He was right, there were a ton of people here, and a lot of them were dressed up in costumes. It was the Saturday before Halloween and a lot of the parents in town were using this opportunity to let their kids get candy and dress up beforehand, as Halloween was gonna fall on a Tuesday this year. 

"Maybe we should have dressed up." you suggested, feeling a little disappointed that you hadn't thought of it earlier. 

Sal just shrugged. "Most people think I'm just wearing a mask anyway." he turned his head towards you. "You're the one that sticks out like a sore thumb."

You couldn't help but laugh. "And Sally Face goes in for the kill! And just what are you gonna say when some kid asks what you're supposed to be?"

He thought for a second. "I'll just tell them I'm a serial killer. You said it yourself, I'm Jason chic." 

"The Sally Face Killer, huh? Kinda has a nice ring to it, like a good creepy pasta or campfire story." 

"Who do you think I'd kill?" he asked. "If I'm gonna go with this, I gotta make it convincing." 

"Oh you killed everyone in the apartments." you replied matter-of-factly. "You just went crazy one night and totally snapped and killed everyone because of... I don't know... Cthulhu or something."

"That doesn't make much sense." 

"It's a scary story, it doesn't have to make too much sense. You gotta suspend your disbelief." you smiled. 

You two continued chatting as you took your time walking around the fairground. All around you kids were playing pretend, adults were tasting some home brew ciders, and all the colors of fall and Halloween surrounded you. Even with Sal's sky blue hair, he fit in perfectly with everyone. No one was staring at him, well, except for you. 

You watched him closely as you walked around. With his prosthetic and one good eye, he could be hard to read outside of his voice, but that was a small challenge that you loved. Reading his body language had been an important factor these past few weeks. He was a very squirmy and antsy guy when it came down to it. There was always some part of him moving- from tapping his pencil when he was concentrating to talking with his hands when he was especially excited about something. Larry once mentioned that he'd make a great mime if he ever decided to not talk. 

Sal stopped for a moment and looked around, his eye landing on a small booth in the corner. Following his gaze, you spotted what he was looking at- a booth selling fresh made applesauce. This couldn't have been more perfect, you knew for a fact that applesauce was one of his favorite foods. He had confessed that he liked it originally because it was a food that he could more easily eat with his prosthetic on. 

"That smells amazing." you said. "Wanna go grab some?" 

His hand tightened slightly around yours for a moment, giving it a small squeeze. "I didn't have lunch." he admitted. "I got wrapped up in practicing before I realized what time it was." 

"Well, lucky for you we are at a place with a ton of food. Come on, let's get some applesauce, my treat."

There were several different flavors to choose from, the lady running the booth explained. The apples were fresh picked from a few towns over, and some of it was being made at the booth. 

"I've never had warm applesauce before." Sal admitted, before a spoon was shoved towards him. 

"Have a sample, dear." the lady said, not taking no for an answer. 

Sal awkwardly fumbled with the spoon for a moment before unclasping the lower strap of his face. 

"This is really good!" he said with slight surprise. 

"We'll take two." You told the lady, handing over the cash. 

"Thank you." Sal said, as you two walked away with your treats. 

"It's no problem. I gotta show my date a good time." you winked at him. 

He replied by shoving another spoonful of applesauce into his mouth. 

The next few hours were simple, walking around and chatting while stopping at different booths to taste and eat all the different carnival foods. You two compared notes, and had a slightly heated debate on which fall flavor was better. Sal liked apple cinnamon, you were a sucker for pumpkin spice. Though you were generous with buying a lot of the treats that you split, you did allow him to buy you two bottles of water and some crazy straws. You knew he wouldn't have been comfortable if you had been the only one spending money, even if he was a little bit on the completely broke side. 

Phase 1: Feed the Boy was complete, it was time for Phase 2: Woo the boy. 

Wooing in this case meant taking him over to the games and winning him a stuffed animal. You had considered going to the rides first, but after all the food that you two had ingested it was probably a bad idea. 

"What is that?" Sal suddenly asked, stopping in front of a booth. "Please tell me you're seeing this too, and that it's just not me." 

It didn't take long to find what he was staring at- it was a large stuffed cat, seemingly shaped like a specific cartoon character mascot, except the colors were all wrong. It was green and red and yellow with... the Sanity Falls logo on the stomach?

"That is an atrocity against God." You said in awe. 

"I want it." 

As if he needed to ask, really. Within seconds the two of you were seated at the booth, water guns in hand. No matter what the outcome, Sal was getting that stupid, beautiful, ugly cat.

"Let's do this." He said lining up his shot as the two of you attempted to fill the cardboard clowns mouth with water. Had this not been a high steaks mission, you'd make a dirty joke about this, but it wasn't the time. There was a hideous cat to be won. 

Both of your guns stopped working at the same time. Sal had won. 

"You can pick any of the prizes on this wall." The guy running the booth said. 

"What do I need to do to get that cat?" Sal replied, pointing to the other side of the booth. 

"Win three times." 

You slammed a few more dollars on the table. "I'm in." 

"You really don't have to!" Sal replied as he received a small stuffed pink alligator. It was ugly, but you wanted only the most ridiculous for your hopefully-soon-to-be boyfriend. 

"We can't just leave him here!" you said. "Can you imagine that dumb thing stuck here for weeks with no heavy metal to listen to?"

Sal saw that this wasn't a battle that he could win. This was your hill to die on, and he sat back down next to you. 

You won this time, that was a good sign, Sal winning a second time. You felt like the guy should have given it to you by the fourth play through where you won, seeing as it was obvious that the two of you were together but no such luck. You supposed he had to make money some way. 

All you needed to do was win one more time, and the cat would be yours. And by yours you meant his. 

Mid game, Sal caught your eye, his water gun jerked slightly to the left, clearly missing for a few seconds before steadying itself back. 

Sal was letting you win, the smug jerk!

You wanted to be offended but you also wanted to laugh. He was letting you win so that you could get the prize! You doubt he even realized that the reason you wanted it so bad was so that you could give it to him! 

Three minutes later, the guy running the booth was handing you the large stuffed cat. 

"He's even weirder up close." Noted Sal, looking him over. 

"What are you gonna name him?" you asked, handing him the stuffie. 

"Me?" 

"Yeah you, I won him for you, you know." you said with a smile.

"But you're the one who paid for all the games. How much money did you spend at that stand?" 

"Don't ask questions I don't want to know the answer to." You replied with a hand wave. 

"...."

"Hm, if it means that much to you, we'll do joint custody. You get him during the week, and I'll take him on Thursdays or something." You tried to negotiate. 

That seemed to allow Sal to relax. "I think I can live with that. Though I hope Gizmo is okay with me bringing him home a little brother."

You took his hand again, this time lacing your fingers together. "Knowing your cat, he'll be fine." 

...

LarryFace: hows the date going?

BlankFace: I think it's going well! I fed him applesauce and won him the best stuffed animal ever!

Blankface sent Pic_253

LarryFace: aww man I'm jealous :( 

BlankFace: You should be ;D

...

AshleyFace: Hey! How are you doing today?

SallyFace: oh, I'm good! i'm hanging out at the fall festival today

AshleyFace: Hot date? 

SallyFace: haha she's acting like it is, it's kinda nice actually

AshleyFace: what do you mean "acting like" ...?

SallyFace: g2g, about to go check out the stage!

...

"Come on! I wanna make sure you get a good view!" you said, practically dragging Sally behind you. 

"Why? What's gonna be on stage?" Sal asked. 

"Something that I think you're gonna get a kick out of." you replied, smiling back at him. 

Sal wasn't one to argue with you at this point; you had been doing such a good job at making sure he had fun that he trusted you with whatever plans you had come up with. He gripped onto you hand tighter as you two weaved through the lawn towards the front of the stage. 

"Looks like they're just about to start." you looked over at him with a shit-eating grin as the two person band with acoustic guitars took the stage. They started playing a slow melody before they familiar lyrics played. 

Concealed behind the screens

An obsession obscene 

Abandon our souls as we become

Machine

Sal froze and stared at the stage for a moment, jerking his head between you and the band in front of you two. 

"No." he said after a moment more of them playing.

"Yes"

"There's no way."

"Oh yes way there is."

"This isn't-"

"An acoustic Sanity’s Fall cover band? Oh yes it is." 

You heard Sal snort from under his prosthetic. "Sanity’s Fall was not meant to be played like this." 

"I don't know, I kinda like it. I can actually understand what they're saying." you teased, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him as close as you dared. You didn't want to be too forward and made him uncomfortable. To your delight he didn't pull away or tense up.

"You still think I can play better than these guys, right?" he asked. 

"Dude, of course. You fuckin' shred." 

That was good enough for Sal, as he turned his attention back to the stage, occasionally making a comment about how the band had transposed from electric to acoustic or about how one song didn't make any sense unless you can head bang to it. You smiled and allowed yourself to watch him, glad that you were on the same side as his glass eye- it gave you an easier time to watch without him noticing. 

A few songs later and the cover band left the stage. In a weird way, it had been a nice compromise to Larry's original idea of taking Sally to a real SF concert. Plus getting to see all the confused parents and adults around the stage really made it work. 

"So, is there anything you want to do?" you asked him as you both left the stage area. 

"I thought you had all the plans." Sal teased. 

"Oh, I do." you reassured him. "I had to leave room for 'let my date choose something to do', you know."

"So I can pick anything?" he asked. 

"Anything at all."

"I want you to get your face painted."

That surprised you. "Really? I mean, sure if you want me too, but why?"

"I can tell that you feel a little left out that you aren't dressed up for Halloween." he admitted. "I want you to feel happy, too."

That dumb boy made your heart melt on the spot. How was he able to see through you like that? He started leading you to the face paint station, and shoved some money at the lady before you even had a chance to protest. 

"What'll it be?" they asked. 

You took a look at their board, and pointed to a picture of a girl with the top of her face as a pumpkin looking mask. You didn't want a full face, especially something on your mouth. 

Sal watched with amusement as the lady went to work turning you into a pumpkin. Halfway through he snapped a pic and sent it to the group chat. 

SallyFace sent Pic_003

LarryFace: its the great pumpkin charlie face!

...

AshleyFace: Hey Larry, I think there might be a problem with the date

LarryFace: what u mean?

AshleyFace: I don't think Sal realizes this is an actual date.

LarryFace: what?? hes gotta! i even gave him the heads up that she wanted to take him on a date!

AshleyFace: ???? What exactly happened?

LarryFace: well me and sally face were talking about dates and he said hed never been on one and i said that she had been thinking about asking him on a date cause she wanted to give him a good first date

AshleyFace: Dammit Larry, don't meddle in these kinds of things! I think you gave Sal the idea that this is some sort of fake date!

LarryFace: oh fuck knuckles 

...

"What do you think?" you asked, smiling at Sal and batting your eyelashes. 

"I think it's cute!" he replied. "They did a great job with the shading." 

"Thanks for doing this for me, by the way. That was very sweet of you." 

"It's only fair, you won me this cat." 

"Then I guess we're even right now. But I'm gonna win."

"Win what?"

"Your heart, of course." you said with an easy grin. You wished you had a better idea of what was going through his head. Normally you could gauge how well your flirting went over by how pink his ears turned, but with him wearing the hat, you didn't have much to go off of. 

The sun was starting to set at this point, even though it was barely 5 pm. Though it had only been a few hours, it felt so much shorter and yet so much longer. You tightened your grip on his hand slightly, knowing that with his singular eye he wasn't a huge fan of walking around at night in a crowd. There were a lot more older people here now that it was getting darker- a lot of the parents must have decided to take the kids home. 

You thought back to everything you saw online about the festival, trying to decide if it'd be better to go on rides now or start looking around at some of the art tents. 

"I've never been on a Ferris wheel." Sal offered, suddenly. It was almost as if he was reading your mind, that or he was trying to change the subject from your previous flirting. 

"Wanna ride?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. He let out a small laugh. 

"It looks like it could be fun."

The two of you stood in line for a good 45 minutes before you were able to get on. You two had discussed tapping out, but both of you decided that you were too invested at this point. It was okay though, it was still a good time to talk and flirt with him. 

Once you two were on the ride, it quickly became apparent at how rickety and unsafe this whole thing felt. There was nothing to stop either of you from falling except for a metal bar and Gods' Will. As your cart went up one to let the next people on the ride, you suddenly remembered something very important, and you gripped at the handle bar tightly. 

"Wow, this thing sure is janky. Hey, are you okay?" Sal asked. 

"Fine." you replied quickly and tensely as the Ferris wheel moved upwards again. 

"You don't seem fine."

"...I may have just remembered that I am not really a super huge fan of being anywhere except for on the ground." you admitted, not wanting to really say-

"You're afraid of heights?" 

Dammit Sally Face. 

"And you know that feeling you get when you're on a roller coaster and you go over a hump and your stomach does that thing where it drops?" you asked, he nodded. "Not a huge fan of that either." 

"Is that why you always decline going on roller coasters with me and Larry?" Sal asked, as you two moved up once again. You couldn't help but nod. 

"Sorry. I lied. I'm not actually as hard core as you two." You gave him a weak smile, going up once more, almost to the top now. 

He reached out and place his hand on top of one of yours. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone." You two were now at the top, the sun shining directly behind Sal's head making him look like an angel. 

What kind of romantic bullshit was this? You were supposed to be wooing him, not the other way around! But still, it let you relax a bit as the two of you moved down one. Everyone was now on the ride and it was time to start spinning for real. 

The first go-round was the worst, but it got easier after that. The whole time Sal pointed out different things that he could make out to distract you, and by the time the ride was over you had found yourself having fun, even if it was on a spinning death machine. 

Your legs were a bit shaky as you two exited the ride, but you were smiling wide. "I didn't completely hate it and it's all thanks to you, Sally Face." 

"I knew you could do it." This time he took your hand, and your heart raced for a moment. 

Together you went on a few more rides. Despite your lack of enthusiasm for the Ferris wheel, you were a master at anything that spun around really fast, though after two of those rides, Sal had to tap out. 

"The applesauce was good going down, but I don't think it'd be good coming back." he said. 

You wished that there had been some sort of fireworks or big ending to the date, but the festival didn't have anything like that. Come and have fun til 9 then leave, was the basic idea. 

It was 7 now, two hours until everything shut down but you could tell that the two of you were starting to get tired and had seen almost everything there was. 

"This was a lot of fun." Sal said as you two headed towards the exit. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." 

"And you said this was happening every weekend until mid-November, right?"

"Yup! It's-"

"What are you supposed to be?" you suddenly heard a voice next to you. Some middle-schooler with fake blood coming out of every opening on their face was staring at the two of you. 

"I'm the pumpkin queen." You replied. 

"Not you, that one." the kid said, pointing at Sal. 

"I'm the Sally Face Killer." he replied without missing a beat and you couldn't help but smile. 

"Where'd you get your mask? I want it." the kid replied, still staring intently at Sal. 

"It's a prosthetic." Sal explained. "It protects my face from-"

"So you're like, a total freak under there?"

"Woah, he now kid. Don't be rude." you quickly spoke up. "Come on, Sal let's go."

You started to pull him away, when you felt a slight catch. Sal let out a surprised grunt and you turned around to look at him. 

For the very first time, you were truly face to face with Sal Fisher. 

Next Chapter

[holographic-chogi]

Protector pt.3/23

Author: holographic-chogi

Pairing: fem!reader x stray kids

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: swearing, animal death, blood

A/N: Regular upload schedule? Don’t know her. Anyway, there’s some cool stuff coming up I’m hyped y’all. Also, I was thinking of making this into a universe that a bunch of different series could stem from, from other groups and such. Lemme know what you think, open to seeing action from other groups in this world?

Summary: a virus has wiped out most of humanity, and society has collapsed. People survive in groups where they live in constant fear and a struggle to survive. Women were the primary victim of the virus, leaving few behind. You are one of the few, kept in secret since the beginning. However, you’ve just been caught.

Masterlist  

You were currently sat at the long couch beside Chan, the others had been shooed out earlier. He had just told you the major details of their group. Basically, from what you gathered, they were one of many groups affiliated with JYP. They didn’t wear the symbols anywhere because they often were sent on raids by the higher-ups that required anonymity. A few people from the group would head out everyday for minor errands while everyone else stayed back to maintain the farm. It was funny, they weren’t actually the combative group you had originally thought. According to Chan, the raid from last night at the prison was Felix’s first in months.

Chan shifted forward, interrupting your thoughts. “You’re a guest, so you really don’t have to do any work around here.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, I insist. It’s already so much for you to let me stay here, let me repay you a bit.”

He bit his lip, seemingly in thought, “We’ll see. I appreciate it though”. He stood up and brushed his pants before continuing. “In the meantime, I have to leave for a errand with a few of the others. If you’re bored at all, maybe go introduce yourself to everyone. Changbin and Woojin should be alternating day-guarding about now—” He paused to count the others on his fingers, “Felix will either be tending the crops or the animals. Seungmin and Minho will be asleep for awhile since they’re on 2nd watch, but they should pop up in a few hours. Hyunjin should be out in the woods hunting pretty much all day today but you might see him cleaning a catch out back. Jisung and Jeongin will be with me but you can meet them later—”

You lock eyes. Chan blushes a bit, realizing that he had been rambling. You smile up at him, hopefully making him feel less embarrassed before answering, “Today, I’ll stick with meeting everyone but tomorrow I expect to be put to work.”

He chuckles. “Again, we’ll see.”

You like this, having a calm and happy conversation with Chan. All he’s seen you do before this is cry and panic, and frankly, it was embarrassing. You look down before murmuring, “Sorry I’ve been crying so much. I promise I’m not usually like this.”

His gaze softened and kneeled down to eye level, “Don’t apologize, you’ve been through a lot lately”. From the corner of your eye you saw him hover a hand over your own, which were currently clasped in your lap. Suddenly, he looked flustered and began to pull it away, but you quickly grabbed it and held it in yours, looking him in the eyes in hopes of fully showing your sincerity.

“Thank you so much Chan, really.”

His face went red. He cleared his throat and quickly pulled his hand away. “Yeah n-no problem”. You smiled, his shyness was pretty adorable everytime it popped up. He was the serious, responsible leader one moment, and a stuttering, blushy mess the next.

Chan had been gone for about an hour before you finally went outside. You were determined to meet everyone, since it was the only task you were given for the day. It wasn’t much, but honestly, you’d take what you could get. You stood on the porch, shielding your eyes from the sun as you scanned the area. In front of the farmhouse stood an expanse of grass, stretching about two hundred feet until it hit the fence. There was the water pump you saw earlier, and a bit farther to the right there was a fenced in chicken coop. It must’ve been too far to see from the window. Little hens of different colors were all hurrying to the front of the coop, seemingly excited by something. Out of curiosity, you made your way closer. Looking around the corner, you saw Felix crouched down; offering a large handful of feed to the excited chickens. You watched them eat for a moment before clearing your throat.

His gaze popped up to you and a large smile stretched across his face. “Y/N!” He tossed the chicken feed to the ground and jumped to his feet, taking several steps closer. “Did everything go alright with Chan?”

A small smile spread to your face before you nodded. Funny, his smile was so contagious. “I wanted to help work, to start paying you guys back, but it didn’t fly.”

Felix crossed his arms with a fake look of sternness. “Good thing too. You aren’t doing any work around here if I have anything to do with it.”

You mimicked his crossed arms, “Well I hate being a mooch. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Something flashed in Felix’s eyes and he stepped forward, placing a hand on your forearm. “You aren’t a burden”. He paused, and looked at the hand on your forearm before quickly withdrawing it. He looked ashamed. “I-I’m sorry.”

You looked at him, confused. “For what?”

He wrapped his arms back around himself, this time not as a joke. “Changbin said I should keep my hands to myself. I’m sorry if I’ve been overstepping, it’s just been awhile since I’ve really interacted with a girl and uh…” he paused, “I forgot that I shouldn’t really do that.”

You reach out, taking his hands in yours. Second time you’ve been in this situation today, but this time you were doing the comforting. “Don’t listen to Changbin, he clearly doesn’t know how to treat me either. You been nothing but sweet since I’ve been here and I don’t think you’ve overstepped at all.” You chuckle, “Besides, I’m touchy too, so I get it.”

Felix’s sunny smile reappeared and before you had time to think, you were engulfed in a hug. You froze, certainly not expecting this. You felt his grip on you falter, and you quickly reciprocated, hugging him too. He moved his chin, almost nuzzling into your neck. “Good, because I didn’t want to stop touching you.”

It was your turn to blush now. You could feel the heat growing in your cheeks at his words and quite frankly, it wasn’t something you’ve experienced in a long while. You slipped from his hold, holding him at arm’s length, smiling. You really hope that the blush on your face wasn’t too visible. “Let’s hang out more later, I should go do my introductions.”

He nodded giddily, “Later then!”

You made your way over to the lookout perches, opting to move past Changbin’s perch and head over to Woojin’s. It wasn’t too rude to skip Changbin. After all, you did already meet. You stood beside the ladder, observing the structure. Woojin’s perch was a little higher than the fence with short walls on the side. Probably good for if he needed to take cover. There was a slim connector between the two perches in case they needed to get from one to the other. Woojin was currently sat in a chair with his feet propped up on the front wall, book in hand. Changbin was laser-focused on the surrounding area, rifle ready in hand. He must be on shift. You looked up towards Woojin and called out, “Good morning!”

Woojin turned around in his chair, setting his book down and looking over the edge. “Hey! Come on up!”

He wore a teddy bear-like grin on his face, quite possibly the least intimidating person you’ve met at this place. You scrambled up the ladder and climbed into the perch. It was pretty wide: with a chair, a stack of books, a few folded blankets, some random bags of chips (and wrappers), a rifle leaning against the wall, a pistol by the chair and machete carelessly tossed in the corner. You wondered if Changbin’s perch was this messy.

“Pretty cluttered, I know.”

You looked up at Woojin, who was currently leaned back in the chair eating a bag of chips. “It’s really not bad,” you lied. “Thanks for inviting me up here, I just wanted to introduce myself. You’re Woojin, right? Chan said you’d be up here about now.”

“Yep, I’m Woojin. It’s nice to meet you.” He reached a hand out, “Y/N, right?”

You smiled politely, “Yup, Y/N.” You shook his hand, before glancing over at Changbin.

You heard Woojin chuckle behind you, “Don’t expect a warm welcome from him. He’s kinda been a dick lately.” He moved next to you to face Changbin, resting his arms on the perch wall. “Did you do something to piss him off?”

You shook your head, “Literally nothing. I haven’t really even talked to him.”

“That doesn’t seem too out of character for him. Usually it takes him a minute to warm up to people.” He paused, “But he seems especially hostile with you. It’s weird.”

“Maybe because I’m a girl?”

“Don’t think so. I’ve seen him around girls before at other groups, he’s never this bad. He’s usually just uninterested. This time he seems adamantly against you.”

Changbin let out his signature annoyed huff before setting his gun down and turning towards the two of you. “Will the two of you please shut up? Save the analysis for when I don’t have to sit and listen to it.”

Your face went red and Woojin laughed before turning back around.

Changbin moved his gaze from Woojin to you, narrowing his eyes. “What are you still staring at?”

You whirled around, and you heard Changin readjust his gun, going back to keeping watch. What the hell was his problem? He is such an asshole. And why didn’t you turn around when Woojin did? Despite his pissy behavior, you couldn’t help but stare. Ugh. Gotta change that.

Woojin patted you on the back, “Give him time, Y/N. He’ll come around.

You smiled up at him. You sure hope so.

After chatting with Woojin for awhile, you ended up crawling back down the ladder, ready to meet the next person. You figured maybe you’d check the back first before heading inside, maybe Hyunjin would be there, cleaning a catch.

On your way to the back, you passed what you assumed were stables, and you definitely heard movement from within. You made a mental note to check it out later and kept going. Once you got to the back, you saw a large workstation connected to the back of the house. It was probably for something like carpentry or crafts before, but now it was covered in blood stains with several animal pelts draped across the surface. This was probably where Hyunjin cut and cleaned his kills. Speaking of which, no Hyunjin in site.

Just as you began to leave, you heard the sound of a trash can tumbling over, and you quickly snapped your head back to see what caused the racket. A large metal trash can filled with bones and inedible bits of meat had been knocked over, it’s contents spilled onto the grass. The culprit was large, wiry dog, who was currently gorging himself on the mess. Must be their dog. You slowly stepped forward and kneeled down, offering your palm to the beast. You probably shouldn’t let him eat any of that. “Hey buddy, over here.”

The dog whipped his head towards you, a murderous snarl on his blood-soaked lips.

Shit! This was not their dog.

You stumbled backwards, and the dog lunged. You caught him by his shoulders, holding his snapping teeth at arms length. “Shit shit shit!” You squeezed your eyes shut, and you could feel the saliva from the snarling creature spray your face. You tried crying out, but his paws pressed so hard into your chest that you felt you couldn’t breath, and your arms were beginning to give out. You let out a choked cry, “S-s-someone, help m-me…”

Suddenly, you heard it let out a sharp squeal, and you felt a warm liquid spray onto your cheek. All of the pressure from the creature went away, and you tossed it to your side. You heard hurried footsteps bounding towards you, and you just stayed there, eyes squeezed shut and trembling. After a few moments, you felt two hands on your forearms, and you’re pulled to your feet. You finally open your eyes, and you’re greeted by the face of another young man, this one almost ethereal in appearance.

He scans you up and down intensely, “Are you okay?”

You blink once, eyes wide with fear. “I-I’m alright.”

His eyes widen when they reach your clavicle, “No, you aren’t. You need that stitched up.”

You hesitantly move your eyes from his, looking down. There was a pretty serious gash just below your collarbone, from which blood was currently pooling out and soaking your sweatshirt. You only just began to recognize the searing sting that pulsed from it, and reflexibly moved your hand to cover it.

The young man quickly grabbed your hand before you reached the wound. “Don’t touch it. It could already get infected from the dog, we can’t risk anymore.” He kept his grip on you, and began to pull you towards the house, but you simply fell to the ground. The encounter had taken all of the strength from your (already weak from disuse) limbs, and you certainly couldn’t walk.

He wordlessly walked behind you and scooped you up, holding you in his arms as he carried you towards the house. “Let’s get you inside.”

[mansclub-secretbook-blog]

About princes and princesses

Such exclusively important for all animate world process as reproduction could not be left without the control of the instincts. Correspondingly, love, as the strongest feeling, is a voice of the same primeval instinct that forces to prefer the best being of another sex for mating. And what are the criteria of this preference? It is unnecessary to prove that these criteria are kept unchanged since primeval-herd times when all the instincts were formed. It is possible to say that during its formation the instincts "took a photo" of the situation existed at that moment and keep verifying with this "picture" for as long as the species exist. Thus, the instincts allow choosing a perfect partner from the primeval point of view. The simplest and the most demonstrative attribute of such superiority in primeval hierarchy is a high rank. Though it is very obvious that rank, strictly speaking, is more of visually superficial indicator of preference but it is almost impossible to imagine anything better in unwise nature. External attractiveness (beauty) is less reliable in this sense. In general, the number of couplations is the simplest and clearest quantitative index of a male's rank in hierarchy. For females this correlation is very weak and, perhaps, inverse.  It is customary to think that alpha simply takes away a female from beta (gamma...) just as food, however, the rules of behavior in a hierarchy are obeyed by all the members of a group including females. That means there is not needed to take female away in most cases. She herself, complying with an internal instinctive program, prefers high-ranking male. Not in vain, speaking about ideal groom, women mention word "prince". Real prince is not a plebian job and usually he is a real candidate to become king.  Sure, it is not the only tendency. For instance, there is an "instinct of fresh blood preference" manifesting itself as sexual curiosity. The goal of this instinct is a counteraction to mating with close relatives unavoidable in isolated groups. According to it, under other equal conditions the preference can be given to a new and unusual partner desirably from outside of the group. The instinct is clearly seen in male's behavior, since it conforms well to the principal of unlimited sexual expansion. In female's behavior it is seen with some limitations. These limitations mandatorily include ranking potential of a "guest" that should be not lower than certain minimum. And of course, these tendencies are combined with individual tastes and sympathies. It is important to emphasize that the high rank of a male does not give a GUARANTEE of access to the certain female, but it is a weighty factor raising PROBABILITY of this event. A correlational factor between sexual attractiveness of male and his rank is different among the species, and substantially non-linear. Males of the first several ranks of hierarchy can be almost indistinguishable by their sexual attractiveness for females. Therefore dominant males must fend away sub-dominant males from females. However, beginning approximately from the middle of hierarchy and below sexual attractiveness of males decreases so much that dominant can afford not to worry. It is highly probable that such male will not be admitted by females themselves. To the English reader: Now let us tell you a couple of words about such picturesque character of Russian anecdotes, as the captain Rzhevsky. Captain Rzhevsky was a hussar. Hussars were an elite kind of cavalry in Russia in 19th century. Only tall, healthy, often handsome men were accepted. Beautiful uniform along with a huge mustache made them very popular among women. Soon the word "hussar" became synonymous to Don Juan. Captain Rzhevsky completely matches this definition. Along with phenomenal success among women, he was distinguished with self-confidence, vulgarity and ignorance, which he was not ashamed of. This character is very much like 19th century captain Frank Drebin from the popular movie series "Naked Gun". For example, one of anecdotes of a series about captain Rzhevsky:

Once captain Rzhevsky was dancing on ball with a noble young lady.

Subbenly she is telling him politely:

- Ah! I am not feeling well. Would you   excuse me for minute, I need some

 fresh air?...

- Captain: OK, go. But be quick on it.   Just fart off and be back.

Cornet Obolensky is more delcate character of these anecdotes.

Now for illustration, an old but very demonstrative for our topic anecdote:

Once cornet Obolensky asked captain Rzhevsky:

Captain, sir! Would you share your experience in seducing women so quickly!

- But what's here to explain? Come up to a lady and ask: "Ma'am! May I stick

it in?"

- But captain! That's a sure way to be slapped in the face for such

rudeness...

- Well, there could be a slap in the face. But nonetheless, I somehow still

manage to stick it in.

      And now let's imagine that cornet followed the captain's example. Imagined? So what? You are absolutely right. He will get slapped in his face. However, it does not follow from the text that cornet is less attractive than captain and moreover, he is obviously more civilized and decent. Also let's imagine that captain expressed his proposition in oversophisticate and delicate phrases. Will he get a rejection? Of course not, but even more possible consent. But what if cornet will propose in the same refined language? In this case he might not get slapped in his face immediately but the final result probably will be the same though for some time he will be kept on a short string and jerked around. And he will be ridiculed. I.e.

actually it does not have any serious significance for a woman HOW a man expresses his desire but it is extremely important for her WHO does it.

If a man has a high rank ("captain") then women will forgive him almost any behavior and almost any weaknesses; if he has a low rank ("cornet") then even complete impeccability will not help him.  Moreover, captain really does not see any problems with this. Neither he has them personally nor he even suspects that the other men might have them. Because he does not assert any efforts to conquering women (moreover, women themself often put up certain efforts to win him) and he sincerely thinks that women treat all other men the same. But who of these two will be a better husband (faithful, decent, hard-working...)? Anyone but the captain! But whom will women want to marry the most? You are right, the captain. And in addition to this, in original (movie "Hussar ballad") the captain Rzhevsky was an open and convinced opponent of Hymen.  It is said that women love masters. This is true, but it is only individual case. Even possession of "strong elbows" i.e. the ability and readiness to fight for one's own interests, is an individual case in conjugal relationships. Love, as a call of instinct, can not contemplate and that's why it is often triggered on visual rank rather than on actual one. It happens that "captain" looks like pitiful whiner crying that he is so perfect and superior but the ungifted people around do not appreciate him; or like capricious child with child-women egoistic character and all people tiptoe around eagering to please him in every possible way (any other cases are possible). The main thing is that he is sincerely sure in his own superiority. It is obvious that such whiner and moaner is not the worthiest family continuer (even from primeval point of view) and the actual rank of these people as an indicator of their ability to succeed in life is very low. However, instinct formally reacts to the above mentioned assurance which is the main signaling attribute of a high rank. Since instinct does not bother itself with explanations and mind does not usually recognize such self-assurance as a merit so everybody feels hymned in poems and in prose a mystical and enigmatical sensation of love choice - because it is wanted against common sense and it is unclear what for.  Whom do men love? A Princess is not necessarily required. Men's instinctive criteria of preference are simpler and radically different from women's ones. The main woman's qualities attracting men are the newness, availability and physical perfection. Of course, if all these qualities are combined in one woman then her attractiveness will be the highest and such woman will be the center of men's attention in the first place but only until either gaining access to her body or making sure of no chances to get it. However, this is correct only in respect of women as sexual partners. Men choose wives by rational judgement (only those who have choice and enough brain). The sensational criteria of men's preference of women are much fuzzier due to the higher diversity of men (and hence, their tastes) and less desperate necessity to make a choice. A male does not have to choose a females since he needs them all without any distinction. But women's rank, having big importance in relations between women, is relatively less important for a man. For sure, high ranking woman can turn men's heads more quickly but modest and shy (low ranking) wives were valued at all times. It is well-known that women much more often than men fall in love with their chiefs, bosses, tutors, and etc. whose high visual rank is manifested by their position and partially age.  If high rank is a key to women's hearts for a man ensuring his freedom of choice but for a woman her high rank is a source of problems with men. Average-ranking men are not acceptable for her neither sexually nor platonically (not to mention low-ranking ones) but high-ranking men are very scares and most of them are easy-riders. And if they are not easy-riders then they are hopelessly engaged and not free. Low-ranking woman as every woman preferring "alpha" is still open-minded toward "omega". In some circumstances she can forgive a man his low rank and therefore his other strengths get the chance to be appreciated.

Briefly speaking:

Emotional choice of a marriage partner (sympathy, crush, infatuation, love - depending on the strength of feelings) is implemented in accordance with a system of instinctive criteria of evaluating a potential partner.

In woman's emotional choice of a man the following has the highest significance - man's instinctive hierarchical status (including purely visual rank) that might not coincide with his social status. His physical characteristics takes the second preference.

In man's emotional choice of a woman the following has the most important meaning in equal degree - women's novelty, accessibility, and physical characteristics.