#actions have consequences no matter your intentions or who you are

[shiikiyun]

people into the heavily symbolic media when the media is heavily symbolic

im sorry but ill just never buy into this narrative. you dont have to agree with me when i say i forgive him or talk about the sympathetic traits i find in him but on this case i just cannot be swayed and im not taking talk backs. it doesnt make sense for his character nor for the story and theres a very easy very interesting interpretation of that frame anyway (he sees the funeral from the outside through his phone because his crime was entirely online and, unlike the other characters, there isnt a set location for anything pre/during/post murder. cause it was in his phone)

and on a personal opinion. taking this so literally and SWEARING up and down he physically showed up to the girl's house kind of defeats the whole point of his themes. every character has set themes and a societal problematic they represent (haruka- child neglect, the result of abandoning and outcasting someone from society all their life. shidou- dubious medical decisions, the ethics of very specific situations in the medical field. mikoto- overworking and masking, the consequences of a society that forces its people to conform to a norm, etc) and futa's is the mob mentality and shield enforced by social media that can easily corrupt anyone at all no matter how pure or noble their initial intentions/morals are. its about the twitter users that will kickstart harrassment campaigns before fact checking or over the most innocuous things (see: kpoptwt currently making up the most gross allegations en masse about the group lesserafim because of a made up rivalry with their label mate newjeans). if futa breached that line between online and real life by physically showing up to his victim's house (be it before or after the fact) the initial themes fall apart. cause then he's dangerous in. real. life.

at that point, what story do we want to tell? why is it that we need futa to be this horrible when his actions online are enough for people to be unable to forgive him? lets sit back for a second and question ourselves on the reason we have to turn him into a creep and believe he became a threat in real life to justify disproving his actions. why we cant simply judge him from his online behavior, that caused much harm than he couldve done in a face-to-face argument. cause that is the excuse people online will use. theyre not hurting anyone in real life, so why should their posts online define their character?

pd: you can bring up the fact that his professor situation was in real life. and youre correct. but that part of the story can easily be placed as the only needed merge of realities for his case: he didnt actually confront the professor, the university isnt as private of a place as a family house so he still has some anonimity (he made the post, but who took the picture? u could not tell if he did it himself or got it from other sources, we just know bc we saw it). not to mention it still correlates: hes brave through the screen, but a complete coward in the flesh. he took a picture of the scene whilst hiding and did nothing to stop it. as much as denouncing the professor is a good thing (and the only good thing he does in the mv), he was still a coward. as ive already explained, mixing the online actions with forced real life ones in the actual murder case he has misses this point

[nohoperadio]

That cool bee book I was talking about a while ago mostly refrains from philosophical digressions (which I think is a strength, I appreciated how the author had total confidence that just clearly presenting the facts about his subject would be enough to make a fascinating book without the need for any "...and here's why that should blow your mind" editorializing, and he's totally right), but there was one towards the end I've found myself thinking about a lot, which is: he wants people to stop using "self-consciousness" (i.e. the concept exemplified by the mirror test but used implicitly or explicitly in tons of other contexts) as a criterion for which animals can be considered sentient/morally relevant/having significant inner lives/however you want to describe it. Not, as you might expect, because he thinks it's an unreasonably high bar to meet, but because it's such a low bar that it produces no distinctions: he argues that basically any animal with any kind of developed central nervous system has to have some kind of self-consciousness almost by definition.

The example I remember best is: imagine you can see an object in your visual field getting closer to you. No matter the specifics, it's obviously always going to make a huge difference to how you evaluate this situation whether the cause of the object getting closer is a] the object is moving towards you, or b] you are moving towards the object. If a, then something might be pursuing you or falling on you or a thousand other things that are just not even worth considering in the case of b. But visually the two cases are indistinguishable; if you're going to be able to track the difference, your brain has to be putting at least some work into keeping tabs on what your own intentions are and what choices you're making as you move through the world, predicting the expected consequences of those choices, and maintaining a fairly tidy mental separation between stuff in the world that you're making happen and stuff in the world that's just happening of its own volition. Otherwise, every time you walk towards a rock you'll freak out and think the rock is rolling into you, or vice versa.

And it's not hard to see how this applies to your entire sensory world right, it applies to sounds and tactile sensations and even feelings internal to your body to some extent, if you're going to both perceive the world and take actions in the world then it's mandatory to mentally separate yourself and the world before that's going to yield even an ounce of helpful information, you just can't function successfully on the most basic level if you're processing stuff that you're doing on the same level as stuff that's happening, if you're in that state then you simply don't have a usable model of the world at all, you just have chaos.

So you can very easily eliminate a certain seductive narrative about the evolution of consciousness, which starts with very primitive animals who are mentally processing nothing but basic sensory inputs, then as you rise up the chain more complex animals are forming concepts of objects and building up a more nuanced understanding of the world, until finally you approach humans and the mind becomes so subtle and sophisticated that it gains access to this special advanced meta-level of thought where it can even understand itself! No, the self is precisely the one idea that has to be in place from the very beginning, before any of it has even the most rudimentary practical value. Self-consciousness isn't the pinnacle of the mind's evolution, it's one of the lowest, most basic foundations that everything else builds off of.

I think this is really cool stuff! I don't know enough about the relevant academic philosophy of mind debates to say how far all this does or doesn't speak to that, maybe someone will tell me the "self-consciousness" concept being attacked here is a strawman somehow, I don't know. But it's definitely impacted the way I (just a dumb guy who likes creatures) think about our small small cousins and what their lives might be like and I think it's super interesting. If you think it's interesting too then maybe you wanna buy The Mind of a Bee by Lars Chittka and read it. It's mostly not about this stuff, as I say it's light on philosophy and heavy on bee-life immersion, but if you actually read this whole post then you're probably in the market for that I feel like.

[writingwithcolor]

Diversity Win: Is "Crazy Rich" POC Representation Necessarily Empowering?

sodapopsculptor asked:

I’m writing a story with two sets of protagonists: A trio with a Black girl, a Latino, and a Vietnamese-American boy who all come from middle-upper class to ridiculously rich families, and a pair of white working-middle class sisters. They’re all heroes of this story. I’ve seen way too many rich white people and poor poc people in fiction, and I’m kinda getting sick of it, but I’m worried that by having the poc kids be rich and the white girls not so much, I’ll be reinforcing the idea that poc somehow rule the world. The only time the rich kids use their status as leverage is when the Asian threatens to sic his cop dad on a bully (race unstated but I imagined him as white) picking on a freshman, and during the Black girl’s birthday party, when she pays the biggest jock there fifty bucks (And later says offhandedly that it was just what she had in her pocket) to chase off a creep hitting on her.

OP, have you ever seen the “diversity win!” meme before?

I understand that your motivation for these narrative choices is to give POC a chance, if you will, to be the rich characters. But it is evident from this ask that you have not asked yourself what this entails. I want to ask you to critically examine the race and class intersections you’re creating here, as well as these kids’ roles in oppressive systems.

You explain that these rich POC are heroes and only have righteous reasons for leveraging their power.

But is your Black girl character aware of the potential disciplinary and/or legal consequences her jock accomplice might face while she has the resources to keep her hands clean? Are you?

Is your Asian character aware of how much of an abuse of power it is to “sic” a cop on someone, and the sheer amount of harm a criminal record or incarceration does to a juvenile with behavior issues? Are you?

So you want to put POC in positions of power for #representation.

Does it resonate with the group you’re representing?

Do you research and portray the unique ways race, ethnicity, class, and majority vs. minority status come together?

Or are you putting these characters in oppressive hegemonic roles for the sake of a power fantasy, on behalf of a group you're not even in?

To your question, you're not reinforcing the idea that "POC rule the world" because such a generalized belief does not exist. Instead, you're reinforcing:

The idea that society has “winners” and “losers.”

The idea that the problem with disproportionately powerful people is the lack of “equal opportunity” as opposed to the power imbalance to begin with.

The idea that those in oppressive positions of power need only have the right intentions to justify their use of it.

To be clear: that is not to say that you can't have jerk aristocrat billionaire millionaire crazy rich POC. Evil or mean rich characters are fun! I have some myself! You can even have rich characters who are gentle-hearted and well-intentioned, but you have to know the ways in which they’re privileged and decide how aware of that your characters are. That’s no problem.

But if you think that wealthy and powerful POC would have the same values and priorities as their poorer counterparts, you’re deluding yourself. There’s a reason why the quote “power corrupts” exists. There’s a reason why no matter where you look on the globe, there are historical dictators and tyrants.

If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.

~ Rina

I fully agree with Rina, and truly want to emphasize the last paragraph.

If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.

I don't think you need to aim to subvert or purposely make all the BIPOC rich and powerful and the white people poor and suffering. Add diversity and include upper class rich and class privileged BIPOC, sure thing! And you can avoid your fears of intentional subversion message by including rich and powerful white characters as well, even if they're not the focus of your story. Just their existence helps. You could also include middle-class characters of Color as well.

More reading: Black in upper-class society

~Mod Colette

[zapreportsblog]

hi!! can you do volturi x secretary!reader (platonic) who's just TOO GOOD AT HER JOB. she spells carlisle correctly, she doesn't interrupt, and she's like really professional. ALSO YOU FOLLOWED ME BACK LIKE I WAS SO SURRPISRD THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD DAYYAYAYYA

❝she’s just too damn good❞

✭ pairing : volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) is the best damn secretary the volturi could ask for

✭ authors note : aww of course I’d follow you back :)

✭ twilight masterlist

The grand entrance hall of Volterra, Italy, echoed with the weight of centuries-old secrets and power. It was within these ancient stone walls that the Volturi, the ruling vampire coven, held their dominion. Aro, Caius, and Marcus, the three elder vampires who led the coven, sat upon their thrones, their crimson eyes filled with an ageless wisdom.

Their previous secretary had met an unfortunate end, her fate sealed by a single, costly mistake. Now, it was time to find a new secretary, one who could handle the delicate matters that crossed the Volturi's path.

(Y/n), a human with a reputation for competence and diligence, stood before the Volturi leaders. She pushed her glasses up on her face, the light catching the lenses and reflecting an intense determination in her gaze. She had no intention of failing in this prestigious role.

Aro, the most talkative of the trio, addressed her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I trust you won't follow in our previous secretary's footsteps. Her errors cost her dearly."

(Y/n) met Aro's gaze with unwavering confidence. "No need for the warning, sir. I take my work very seriously. I'm here to ensure that every detail is meticulously attended to."

Caius observed her with a critical eye, his expression stern. "You are aware that our affairs are highly confidential, and discretion is of the utmost importance?"

(Y/n) nodded, her resolve unshaken. "Absolutely, sir. My lips are sealed, and I understand the consequences of breaching that trust."

Marcus, the most reserved of the three, merely regarded her with a measured gaze. "We shall see if your actions align with your words."

(Y/n) straightened her posture, ready to take on her new responsibilities. "You won't be disappointed, gentlemen."

With that, she accepted the role of secretary for the Volturi, stepping into a world of secrecy, power, and ancient vampires. As she walked away, she knew that she had taken on a role unlike any other, one that demanded her utmost dedication and discretion. The reflection of her determination in those glasses was a symbol of the resolve she brought to her new position, one that she intended to uphold at all costs.

(Y/n) settled into her new role as the secretary for the Volturi with a fierce dedication. Her efficiency and attention to detail quickly became apparent to the coven's leaders. Aro, always one to appreciate those who could fulfill his demands promptly, decided to put her to the test.

One afternoon, he strolled into her office, his graceful presence demanding attention. (Y/n) looked up from her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her computer as she organized files and scheduled appointments.

"Ah, (Y/n)," Aro greeted her with his customary smile. "I have a task for you."

(Y/n) nodded, ready to take on any request from her employer. "Of course, master Aro. What do you need?"

Aro explained, "I need you to post an aid about a tour for fifty people for tomorrows feeding, a rather impromptu event. I would like you to schedule it for me.”

(Y/n) didn't miss a beat. She continued typing on her computer, her eyes darting across the screen as she worked her magic with scheduling software. "Consider it done, master Aro."

Aro was taken aback by her speed and efficiency. He had expected this task to take some time, but within mere minutes, (Y/n) turned her screen toward him, displaying a perfectly organized tour for fifty attendees, complete with dates, times, and an itinerary.

His crimson eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "You work remarkably fast, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) looked up with a confident smile. "I pride myself on being efficient, master aro. Is there anything else you need?"

Aro chuckled, clearly impressed. "Not at the moment, my dear. Carry on with your excellent work."

As he left her office, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had proven her worth to the Volturi leader, and her efficiency would undoubtedly serve her well in this world of secrecy and power.

In the serene garden of the Volturi castle, Marcus often found solace among the flowers that his late mate had once lovingly tended to. He wandered the garden, lost in his own thoughts, the weight of his immortal life bearing down on him.

One day, as he strolled along the carefully manicured paths, Marcus noticed something extraordinary. The flowers that had once withered away had begun to regrow, vibrant and beautiful as if brought back to life by some unseen force. He couldn't help but be struck by the sight, the memories of his mate's love for these flowers flooding his mind.

Marcus approached a lower guard who was on duty nearby, his curiosity piqued. "Who has been taking care of the garden? These flowers, they are flourishing once more."

The lower guard, a vampire who had served the Volturi for centuries, nodded respectfully to Marcus. "It is the human, my lord."

"The human?" Marcus asked, intrigued. "What is their name?"

The guard, who knew the human by the name the Volturi called her, replied, "The secretary (Y/n), my lord."

Marcus considered this revelation, the name sparking a distant memory. He had heard the name (Y/n) mentioned in passing, but he had paid little attention. Now, it seemed this human was not only tending to the garden but also reviving the memories of his lost mate.

With a nod of appreciation, Marcus continued to admire the blooming flowers, a silent acknowledgment of the human named (Y/n) for her care and dedication. In the garden, among the resurrected blooms, he felt a connection to his past and a glimmer of hope for the future, all thanks to the efforts of this mysterious human.

In the dimly lit halls of the Volturi castle, Caius, one of the coven's leaders, was growing increasingly frustrated. He had been searching for his favorite cloak, a luxurious garment of deep crimson, for what felt like an eternity. His irritation had escalated to the point where his voice echoed through the corridors as he yelled at everyone in his path.

"Where is it? Who has taken my cloak?" he bellowed, his tone venomous.

Vampires scurried to avoid his wrath, their wide-eyed expressions betraying their fear of their temperamental leader.

In the midst of the chaos, a soft and calm voice cut through the tension. "(Y/n)," Caius snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing as he turned to face the human secretary, "(Y/n), have you seen my cloak? I cannot find it anywhere."

(Y/n) stepped forward, holding Caius's missing cloak draped carefully over her arm. Her voice was composed, unruffled by his outburst. "Master Caius, you left this in your office. I've noticed it had specks of dried blood on it, so I've had it dried clean."

Caius was momentarily taken aback, his anger dissipating as he processed her words. He couldn't believe it. The usually distant and indifferent human secretary had not only found his cloak but had taken it upon herself to ensure it was cleaned.

"(Y/n)," Caius said, his voice softer now, "you did this for me?"

(Y/n) nodded, her gaze steady as she met his crimson eyes. "Of course, Master Caius. It's my duty to assist in any way I can."

Caius, still in disbelief, reached out to take the cloak from her arm. His fingers brushed against hers, and he felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation stir within him. He couldn't deny that her thoughtfulness had left a mark on him, one that he couldn't easily dismiss.

As (Y/n) excused herself and left the hallway, Caius watched her retreating figure with a newfound appreciation. It was a small gesture, but one that had touched him deeply, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this human secretary than met the eye.

The grand trial room within the Volturi castle was filled with a weighty silence as the three kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, gathered for a discussion. The subject of their conversation was none other than their human secretary, (Y/n).

"She's good at her job, almost too damn good," Aro commented, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I can't seem to find a simple mistake in her work."

Caius nodded in agreement. "She's quick, and her work is effective. It seems we'll be keeping her around long-term."

Marcus, who often remained silent, offered his approval with a subtle nod.

The kings reached a unanimous decision. They would offer (Y/n) a gift, one that would bind her to the Volturi for eternity. They sent their most trusted enforcers, the twins Alec and Jane, to fetch her.

Alec and Jane, swift and efficient as always, found (Y/n) in her office. They approached her with the precision of a well-practiced routine.

"(Y/n)," Alec began, his tone even, "the masters request your presence in the trial room."

(Y/n) blinked in surprise but complied, following the twins to the room where the three kings awaited.

Once inside, (Y/n) stood before the Volturi leaders, her heart pounding with anticipation. Aro spoke first, his voice dripping with charm.

"(Y/n), in the short months you have been with us, your dedication and efficiency have impressed us greatly," Aro said, his crimson eyes locked onto hers. "We value your contributions, and we would like to offer you a gift."

(Y/n) couldn't hide her surprise. "A gift, masters?"

Caius stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. "We offer you immortality, (Y/n). A chance to join our coven as one of us."

The offer hung in the air, a life-altering decision that (Y/n) had never expected. She considered her options carefully, her thoughts racing. The weight of eternity was a heavy burden to bear, but the allure of becoming part of the Volturi coven was undeniable.

After a moment of reflection, (Y/n) finally spoke. "I'm not sure what to say, masters, but thank you for the offer."

With her acceptance, the kings nodded in approval. The twins, Alec and Jane, moved closer, their hands lightly touching her body. “Alec -“ aro calls out and in second Alec has (y/n) wrapped in his dark smoke, her senses numbing within seconds. “Don’t worry dear, it’ll be over in no time.”

Over the course of three days, (Y/n) underwent the agonizing process of the vampire transformation. She endured the fire of change, sometimes which were numbed by Alec per the kings request and now she was emerging from the ordeal as a newborn vampire, her senses heightened and her existence forever entwined with the Volturi.

As her eyes fluttered open in her new immortal life, (Y/n) realized that she had become a permanent part of the Volturi coven, her loyalty and dedication recognized in the most profound way possible.

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[userautumn]

Hey! :) I just saw your new FAQ. What aspects of bucktommy do you enjoy? :)

Hello! I'm going to assume this question is asked in good faith, mainly because I wanna talk about them !! 😗✌🏾

I like that Buck heard Tommy make fake mouth static at the fire chief and immediately wanted to be barefoot and pregnant by this man. Peak comedy. Man is so cringefail loser that he made Buck discover a whole new sexuality. Who will love me like this, says the bisexual who is already aware she is bisexual. Okay moving on

Tommy's little head tilt on the basketball court. Not specifically a BuckTommy thing but something I am wildly into nonetheless.

I like that Tommy came over to talk to Buck about what went down with Eddie. Once you get past the "how the fuck did he even know where he lives?" of it all, because details don't matter when you have a 40 minute network TV slot, I just really like that Tommy didn't just recognize there was a problem, or didn't just recognize his own role in the problem between Buck and Eddie. He actually took time and initiative to try and fix it. He didn't have to do that. He could have looked at Buck and said, "Wow this grown man has issues. He needs to work on that" and just carried on with what he was doing. He would have been well within his right to do that, actually. But he went over to Buck's with the intention of clearing the air and that was very kind and mature of him.

I like that Tommy is very separately friends with Eddie, which isn't a BuckTommy thing exactly. But I remember years ago, when we (fandom) would talk about Buck and Eddie's current partners at the time (Ana and Taylor), we would always say, "whoever they end up with needs to be okay with Buck and Eddie's weirdness for each other, otherwise it's not gonna work." And, like, as far as we've seen so far, Tommy is okay with it. When he went over to Buck's, he mentioned Christopher specifically, mentioned (in so many words) that he's not trying to disrupt their family unit, and that's all I could really ask for out a non-Eddie/non-Buck partner. That checks all my boxes, if we're honest because that family unit is, quite literally, everything to me.

Tommy wants to teach Buck. He wants to give him flying lessons and teach him Muay Thai. Sorry I love a man who gives patient, and occasionally horny, instruction. As if that's my fault.

Tommy's fingers on Buck's chin when he kisses him. Swooning just thinking about it. 🙂‍↕️

I like that Tommy left Buck on the curb. Now, I know this was VERY controversial for some people. But, like, Buck is not a five year old. He didn't die, and his actions had a consequence. Everyone was like "he should have told him he was leaving him!" But. Okay. When did he have time? They got the check -> Eddie showed up -> Eddie left -> Buck and Tommy got up to leave -> Tommy said he was leaving. By MY approximation, that is the only quiet moment they had for him to say that he was making his exit. But! I could be wrong! Either way! 💕 I like that he wasn't mean about it. He knows his worth enough to not put up with bullshit, unlike Taylor, for example, who stayed with Buck even after he kissed someone else and I think someone who knows their worth and who's going to clock him on his shit is something Buck is going to appreciate in a partner.

I like that Tommy showed up to the coffee date. I like that Buck asked him to show up to the coffee date. I love that being with Tommy inspires Buck to take action in his own relationships instead of just settling. 9-1-1 really clocked his (and Maddie's) tea when they called them "the fugitive and the settler." Buck settles into these relationships, without really considering whether or not it's what he wants, because he's scared of being alone. That's always been his problem. But he wants Tommy, wants him to the point of taking action in order to have him, and that's 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 That's the money shot, baby !!

I really, really, really like that Tommy promised Buck he'd be there for the wedding and then tried everything in his power to show up. And did show up. It's my favorite BuckTommy thing. Buck needs someone outside of his codependent family clusterfuck (affectionate) to show up for him, and no one before Tommy ever has. Abby relied on him emotionally so heavily, Ali was more of his emotional equal but was unable to handle his job. Taylor was... Taylor, and Natalia was mostly interested in his death. So Buck hasn't really had a partner who has actively prioritized him before and so far, Tommy seems to. I really like that.

"EvAn," said in all Tommy's many, gently exasperated and/or deeply adoring tones

My second favorite BuckTommy thing is how earnest and attentive Tommy is to Buck's emotional needs. Which circles back to the first bullet point I made, because it's such a consistent theme with them. But when Bobby was hurt, Buck was ready and willing to brush off how he was feeling about that experience. This makes sense because, looking at his other partners, Buck has very rarely had the emotional space to lay his burdens at their feet. But Tommy clocked his angst and hit him first with that look, that said he was reading him, assessing him, and then hit him again with the "you okay?" and allowed Buck to say as much or as little as he wanted. I really like that, that's beautiful to me.

Canon Daddy kink. Sorry, it has to be said. Of all the ships I've had where I've looked at one guy (gn), and looked at the other guy (gn), and been like "oh yeah, y'all definitely get into some freak shit," never in my LIFE has it been made canon. The sun is shining, the world is a beautiful place, etc etc

So yeah, those are a few of my favorite BuckTommy things! They're fun, they're my new favorite toy, and I love them. Hope this helps!

[centrally-unplanned]

The thing about morality is that it only matters when it's real. Discussions of rules or norms for what is right or wrong are almost always, at some level, illusions, approximating reality and guiding decisions in an uncertain world - which does not make them useless, just contextual. Profaning god in your bedroom can never be “wrong” - there is no one to hear you, no one to be hurt by it. You can only show something is really wrong from the intentions of the actions and their results.

So with that out of the way, lets talk about Knives Chau - and specifically, how the comic vs the anime handled that part of the story.

Scott Pilgrim vs The Reification of Dating a High Schooler

There is an extremely pervasive meme in Scott Pilgrim discourse that our titular Scott is a scumbag. Our returning whipping boy the Kotaku article loves this idea, describing Scott’s “detestable behavior” and wondering “was it too subtle the first time about Scott being an absolute shitbag?”. There is this viral headline screenshot from an interview floating around right now riding that same line:

Which is, of course, pretty much false. Its up to you in the end, “shitbag” is a subjective description, but the story just isn’t about events that would be described that way. Its the story of a guy getting over an awful ex, hurting some people, then meeting a new person, and realizing step-by-step what it takes to be their partner and levelling up as a person each time he does. He starts off broken, and Ramona of course is just as broken - getting better is their mutual arc. And its fundamentally about relationship drama - those stakes don’t make you a scumbag lol, just clueless, unless you are terminally online and don’t know what real stakes are.

I will let O’Malley get the last word in with his quote the writer of that interview is hilariously trying to torture into his headline:

There's a bit of, like, young people see Scott Pilgrim a certain way, and, you know, there's a lot of, like, 18-19-year-old fans that are really judgmental of the character. They're like, "Oh, he's a bad person. I would never do that." But I always tell them, like, get back to me when you're 25 or 30, tell me how your 20s went. Were you a bad person? Everyone has to make choices and do things in life that maybe they're not going to be proud of later.

Scott is a scumbag the way everyone is - you yourself will likely commit similar sins; that at least seems to be the authorial intent, and I agree with it.

So how does dating Knives Chau slot into this?

Despite the memes, age, in fact, is just a number - two consenting people dating does not a sin make. The reason dating underage people is bad is because of its consequences, not the categorical imperative. So what are the consequences of dating Knives Chau in the comic?

Knives is, as a consequence of dating a guy who is simply via his age able to appear so much cooler than her peers to her, absolutely obsessed with Scott. She worships his band:

She starts aping his taste in music and interests; she slots herself into his circle of friends, who don’t relate to her, even after their breakup (often drinking her way through it):

She totally spirals after he cheats on her and leaves her, blaming everyone but him; she is wounded and hurt for months, a year, over a relationship that lasted weeks:

Knives Chau is a literal poster child for why you should not date a high schooler. She is, at every turn, emotionally not ready to date someone who is not at her own level of social development, and is deeply affected by it. It is, sometimes, played for laughs - that is the nature of the comic, everything is played for laughs, but I would have given it a bit more dramatic space myself - but over the course of the story Scott himself realizes how much of an ass he was to her, and how he didn’t take what happened seriously.

The reason I view this with charity is what Scott did to lead to this - he met a cute girl on the bus! He was deeply hurt and kind of numb in life, and found someone who was safe and easy to talk to. He never attempts to kiss her (she starts trying to kiss him which he repeatedly rejects) they don’t even hold hands, and it lasted a few weeks. He knew deep down, pretty much immediately, it was fake:

Then he met an actual person he liked, and with some browbeating from Wallace agreed to break up with her, but chickened out for a day. Then the next day he decides to break up with her, and she drops the L bomb before he can, so he instantly ends it. It is really awkward for everyone involved.

Pushing off an awkward and uncomfortable conversation resulting from a dumb decision you made on a whim for a week - god I relate to that, that’s everyone! If you think it isn’t you I think you're lying. Its why this relationship is so interesting in the comic - Scott is always one step removed from it, putting it at abeyance, and the fact that something so minor to him is so destructive to her is a really good portrait of how these kinds of things happen. Its so easy to hurt someone when you don’t even know what the stakes are, and when its coming not from malice, but from weakness. Its a very good portrayal of a bad relationship because its bad in a relatable way, even if as a story is a bit more dramatic than is typical. And its a great portrayal of how fraught age gaps can be - this bad relationship is part of what makes the comic a good story.

But its 2023, we don’t give a shit about any of that anymore!

O’Malley in the same interview discusses the cultural shift around these kind of relationships:

I felt like in this day and age, I had to provide clarity on that [relationship]. Because when I wrote the first books, I took it for granted that people would understand that dating a high schooler was a bad thing. But on the internet, in this day and age, people are like, "He's dating a high schooler. That's terrible!" Like, that's pretty much what I say on page 1 of the book. But I try to spell it out a little bit more this time.

He isn’t telling the full story though - it was bad in 2004, but not bad the way it is today. Its dubiousness was mitigated by its frequency; people were doing this kind of shit all the time. Scott Pilgrim is a bass guitarist in an indie band; fucking groupies is like built into the cover charge. Half the problem Scott has in dating Knives is that she is the wrong kind of 17-year-old - had Scott met her at 1 am in the aftermath of a Born Ruffian’s concert at the Whippet Lounge knocking down shots off the back of her fake ID, no one would have even noticed. Hell, no one does notice; there is someone who actually makes out with a drunk 17-year-old Knives Chau in the comic Scott Pilgrim, and isn’t Scott Pilgrim:

No one cares about Kim’s inebriated petting session here; that is 10% because she is a Girl and Girls Can’t Be Predators, 40% because she isn’t the main character, and 50% because Kim Pine’s dating history is not a useful proxy battleground for GamerGate-adjacent nerd culture wars in ~2014; but that is road that goes directly to hell, so let's veer back.

The point, of course, is that in 2004 this is a crime flecked with normality, something your friend would do and you would maybe just cock an eyebrow at:

Its not that in discourse today - it is radically more condemned. It is not a contextual sin, but an original sin. It underwent a process I am calling reification - where it goes from being just a shifting descriptor of reality, to a thing in itself, with a defined (reified) meaning. And to be clear, that is in a lot ways on net a good thing? The reality is that, despite everyone’s protestations, there are today thousands of 17-year-olds taking the L line out to a gig at the Brooklyn Steel and going down on a 25-year-old guy they just met in a back alley off Frost St who swears he’s a “drummer in a sick new band” that played here “just last week”, he promises, and she is having a great time, bragging to her friends about how hot his tattoo was, and then shipping herself off to Cornell next year to start on her pre-med track with barely a memory. But for every dozen of those, there is at least one person who is deeply, deeply hurt, a Knives Chau who never deserved this. The rest can have a slightly worse time, its probably worth it.

That does not make it a categorical imperative, though - the reification has masked that truth. The crime comes from the context - those other girls aren’t victims, they would laugh at you for suggesting they were. But in 2023, Scott Pilgrim Takes Off is no longer concerned with context. It is telling you, right to your face, that Scott is a bad dude. Over and over and over - jokes from the Evil League about “wow, I thought we were evil”, its not subtle.

Yet meanwhile, Knives Chau is, like, fine? She dates Scott, is totally into him, and then literally in the middle of his funeral forgets about him for Envy crashing it:

Picks up the bass and has yuri-inflected playtime with Kim the literal next day:

And less than a week later is pitching an off-broadway musical adaption of Scott’s life to a billionaire Matthew Patel - I can’t explain that okay, I’m as confused as you are.

She is mad at Scott, sure, but she is over it in a matter of days. Hell, notice how she was already a fan of the Clash at Demonhead now? There is no scene of Scott introducing her to his kind of music. He didn’t change her. By the end she is a member of his band and they are totally chill:

This is, again, about a week or two later.

Knives is not an important character in this show, way less than in the original, this is no grand sin. But I still find it very interesting: O’Malley is wrong. He “spells it out” way less in this version when it comes to the actual consequences of Scott’s actions. Everyone’s verbal condemnations are substitutes to replace the real damage his actions dealt in the comic. Scott is a better person this time, in a world that has universally agreed he is worse (still not a good move ofc). Even Scott’s moment of apology to Knives about their dating is so tepid its almost Straussian:

Its ‘frowned upon’…which is not the same thing as saying it was wrong! I don’t think this is intentional, its just funny, but its a nice capstone nevertheless.

And it had to be this way, not just for media in general, but for Scott Pilgrim in particular. Not only are sexual crimes far more reified today, but Scott Pilgrim’s sin of dating a high schooler is reified as well - its the first piece of discourse everyone encounters about it. Its the ur-debate of the franchise. The idea of actively engaging on this point, and digging deeper into it…its too hot, too controversial. Way better to shy away from it, disown it. The discourse wrote this part of the script over the course of a decade; its not something the creatives had any say in.

Honestly they should have just gone all the way - just make Knives 19. Then how tepid it is wouldn’t be a distraction anymore. Scott can just be an asshole for cheating on her, that would work fine. If you aren’t going to commit to the reality of these things, you shouldn’t bother with it at all.

[clare-875]

One touch (Levi x Reader)

_____

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Summary: When you find yourself cornered, Levi saves you Warnings: angst to fluff, sexual harassment/assault, men being pigs, Levi swearing Note: The above image does NOT belong to me [AOT Masterlist]

_____

I'm used to it. That was what kept you unflinchingly moving past them, even when their dirty words were hushed in the air. I'll ignore it. Those were the words you chanted to yourself, so you could get through the day without nausea and rage dictating your actions, even as they tried to gather your attention. There's nothing I can do. That was the notion you fell into as you made excuses for your lack of action, your lack of saying anything about the matter, even or maybe especially to Levi. But despite the constant rhythm of your words reverberating through your head, it didn't change the fact that you couldn't escape. You couldn't escape them.

Every day these past weeks, high-ranking officers from deep within the walls had come to Scout Headquarters; for what you didn't know. Perhaps it had to do with rising suspicions on the integrity of Erwin, and thus they were sent to merely observe or criticize. Perhaps it was the rising stakes now with Eren and his ability to become a Titan prompting more eyes pointed our way. Whatever it was you did not care. But somehow it still had everything to do with you. You were well known both within the Scouts and in the general public: The one that could keep up with humanity's strongest soldier; Levi. But you were also known for other traits, mostly the way you visually stood out amongst a crowd. It never bothered you how "distracting" this could be, but never had you thought it would cause you the trouble it did now.

Each time you passed the higher ranking officers, yet to face any consequence by your fist or your words, they would start to whisper. Scouts knew better than to mess with you, not only as a Captain of the Scout Regiment who commanded respect but by the partner of Levi. They knew what would happen if he heard even a glimmer of disrespect and god forbid the heinous acts of the higher-ranking officers who taunt you now. Their voices had grown louder with the passing days, bolder by the power they yielded. Yes, their power; their status. Had it been any other low-ranking officer he would've hit the dirt before the next sly comment left his mouth, but you could scarcely do anything to them. The Scouts were already on high alert, and you couldn't make matters worse. What you failed to realise was that their boldness would soon seep not only into their disgusting words but into their actions. You got used to the suggestive comments you got as you passed. You kept your head high, unflinching as you walked; as though you had heard nothing at all.

But you weren't used to this.

They had you cornered, about five of them.

Your heart churns more in disgust than fear, you would result to that much less willingly; you wouldn't give them what they so obviously wanted. "I'm sorry, but I have to be on my way Erwin will-" You try to maintain the benefit of the doubt, not that there was doubt in the first place; you knew what they wanted. "Erwin can wait, can't he darling?" A hand of one man reaches out towards you and you grit your teeth, bile rising in the back of your throat at their intentions. You can see it in the depths of their sinister eyes; their lust. You smack his hand away before it goes to caress your face and you see the first break of the facade; a flash of irritation on the first man's face. "I hope I'm not misunderstanding here gentlemen, but it seems you want something I won't offer." Two more men come from behind the first, shit-eating grins on their faces at your words.

"You understand just right sweetheart." One grabs your left hand forcefully backwards as you struggle, surprised by his underlying strength. "But don't worry, we'll take care of you." The other man brings his face close to yours as he restrains your right hand to the wall behind you and suddenly, you are encapsulated by panic. You had failed to realise that despite rotting away deep within Wall Sina, these officers still had military training, and were still strong compared to you, especially when you dealt with five. You refused to give in so quickly though, moving to kick one of the men forcefully and you do so, much to your satisfaction. The man groans out in pain, hearing the crack of a rib under the power of your foot. You then move quickly going to rid of the man who looks up in shock at your sudden movements, grip almost faltering on your right wrist. But you are stopped.

The fist that is about to collide with the next man is held back as the first man holds it within his grasp tightly. "Do you really want to do that now sweetheart? Do you know what we could do to the Scout Regiment? Erwin? Levi?" You freeze at his words, chest constricting at the intent behind them. They could bring the regiment to ruins if they so wished, one misleading report could have the Scouts under investigation. Would you be so willing to be the cause? But you would never let these men get away with any of this. You are so lost in your thoughts the four men who still stand use the opportunity to hold you down and your heart lurches in your chest. "W-wait." Your voice is strained against their hold as you feel the tightness of their fierce grip, knowing it will leave bruises. "W-wait! I said n-"

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Suddenly all comes to a halt. Suddenly the grip on your wrists loosens and the four men step away. Never. Never had you felt such relief at the sound of your lover's voice. Levi meets your glossy gaze and instantly his face morphs into one of pure rage; of the deathly intent to kill. His mind is swift at putting the dots together, realising what he had just witnessed. He moves forward grasping one man harshly who stutters out excuses before he is slammed to the ground in one deadly movement. "I asked a fucking question." He then elbows before punching another man against his head, who is knocked out in a second. "Can you guys not listen? Can you shits not hear?" The three remaining men cower under the anger of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. "Fucking pigs, don't touch my woman."

You have never seen the true depths of his strength and his speed until this moment, you have never seen such fear in men's eyes. He moved as if to murder, blood on his knuckles but more that splattered from those he beat up relentlessly. He didn't care who they were, he wouldn't care if one of them were the king of the walls. All he knew was that they touched you. The one he swore to protect. He was relentless. You saw the rebounding forms of the men who yelled out, trying desperately to escape his outrage. You knew of Levi's background; he wasn't above mercy. The men were soon covered, adorned with black and blue, crimson seeping deep upon their skin. But Levi never faltered, there was a mad look in his eyes; one you would only see beyond the walls. Despite wanting to witness their torture as much as Levi wanted to witness their deaths, you knew what would happen if he was left to these men any further so you reached out to him.

"L-Levi."

He responds to your hesitant voice instantly, hears the slight tremble in it and feels hatred brim within him ten-fold. "Levi, please, we can't- we can't." Levi knows what you are trying to say, but only stops when you pull him to your side and he sees the torment deep within your gaze. Scouts scurry around you as they notice the five bleeding men looking in shock at the high-ranking officers who now seem more dead than alive. Their eyes go to Levi and his stained knuckles but he merely stares back at them harshly. "Clean up the blood, now." The Scouts nod quickly at his deathly glare as they scurry to get the supplies. Levi goes to the only man who remains conscious, groaning as he brings him up to his face by his shirt collar. "You look at her, touch her ever again, you're dead, understand?" The man has enough decency to have a flicker of fear flash within his eyes and nod, as Levi drops him to the ground before coming back towards you. His grip is tight on your hand as he drags you away from the scene to which you are still in a daze.

You only seem to register the events that have conspired when you finally reach the room you and Levi shared. Levi was pacing up and down as he turned to you. "How long?" You look up in surprise at the tormented look on his face. "How long [y/n]?" You flinch at his sharpness before looking to the ground. "Weeks- I don't know, since they arrived. I couldn't- I couldn't do anything." There is a deep silence in the room and suddenly you are afraid. Would he berate you now, would you meet his anger? Worse, would you meet his disgust? Unbeknownst to you Levi looks to you in utter defeat, in utter rage at himself. He had promised to keep you safe from all that threatened you and yet you had felt it so necessary to hide your blatant discomfort and pain. All for the sake of the Scouts.

He reaches out, hand skimming yours before he holds it. He witnesses the light bruising of fingers upon your wrist and he fights the urge to go back to the men and finish the job. You look up eyes wide and tears brimming within them. He meets your gaze briefly before moving forward and you are shocked to be in his warm embrace. You lean your head against his chest, emotions suddenly overcoming you. "You should've told me." You shake your head against him gently but his grip is sure as he makes you face him and he sees the sheen of tears in your eyes. Hatred brims within him again at the sight of your afflicted state. "I would've you know, I would've killed them." You sigh deeply, leaning your head against his chest once more in defeat. "You know you can't." But Levi's gaze is far off as he holds you against him. "One touch; you know I would."

Needless to say, once Erwin was informed discreetly of the underlying situation, the men were stripped of their titles and sent away immediately. You never found out if Levi ever stuck to his uttered words but you also never saw the men ever again.

[citrustan]

for what it's worth [3/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: some bitchiness (or like justice? idk it's up to you really)

note: yes. there is a chapter 4 because i'm not ready to let go of this just yet. and a thank you.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Two weeks passed by and you and Jia pretended as if absolutely nothing happened. It was simply the quiet before the storm.

Your days seemed to blend into nights, you felt yourself slipping into a bad place mentally. Always feeling distant and fatigued.

The emotional turmoil of having your trust broken and your privacy invaded caused you to miss out on much needed sleep.

While on the outside, everything seemed pretty much the usual except for a few painfully obvious differences.

You had stopped (publicly) obsessing over Jungkook, and it initially invited a lot of concern from Yoongi and Namjoon. But they didn’t push you too much when you blatantly ignored their questions about him. You also avoided Jia as much as you could. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Despite your crush on Jungkook, you had come to accept the boundaries of your non-friendship with him and the fact that he was deeply committed to Jia.

You had no intention of causing any harm to their relationship, as you had already shared your support with Jungkook for their secret.

It was difficult to not think of them. It often made you break into tears of anger and frustration. You had to mourn your loss.

Every night, thoughts of Jungkook would continue to consume you. You’d still imagine him to be yours. Images of him smiling at you and his voice calling you cute would linger in your mind.

It’s just pretend. There’s no harm in it.

You knew that Jia had described you as a ‘creep’ to Jungkook, but the label bothered you. You were not a creep, and you wanted to understand why Jia had portrayed you that way. No matter what you came up with in your head, nothing was a good enough reason to call you such a gross name. Sure, she hadn’t revealed to Jungkook your identity but that baffled you more.

Also, had Jungkook never wondered about this ‘creep’?

Too many things kept you up at night and you couldn’t stand being on the other side of the truth. You could no longer afford to let these things bother you. You were too fucking old for this shit.

With the final week before your course evaluations being right around the corner, you had subconsciously come to some harsh unanimous decisions. They weren’t impulsive or unreasonable. You really had thought this through. These decisions may be a risky, or bitchy, or just as sneaky as Jia was, but they’d still be within reason.

He needed to know the truth about you, Jia, and what she told him.

You wanted to tell Jia that you knew about them. It probably wasn’t going to come out of Jungkook, so it had to be you.

Why must you continue to suffer?

You didn’t want to wait around and anticipate Jia’s next move.

You’re not the type of person who sits around and ignores things like these. You had held it in for a while now.

You understood that your actions would have consequences and you were more than ready to face them. You hoped.

While you pretended nothing ever happened, Jia and you saw way less of each other.

You could count the times you interacted, or even passed by, or saw each other over the weeks on one hand.

Still, every time you’d think about your interaction with Jungkook, you were reminded of Jia too. Him and Jia. You couldn't help but notice his annoyingly deep feelings for Jia. He was so… considerate of her. It probably is just the bare minimum but it doesn’t matter. You could tell he was a great boyfriend to her. No wonder she kept him hidden.

Sometimes, it felt so wrong and scandalous to fantasize about the man. Maybe it even is so. But you weren’t just infatuated with Jungkook. You really liked him. Emotions like these don’t disappear overnight.

You longed to be loved and held by him too.

The campus shuttle came to an abrupt halt, indicating that it was the last stop. You had missed yours.

*

As the semester continued, Jungkook found himself missing the moments he had shared with you before everything became so complicated. Jia completely stopped mentioning you. Whenever he’d ask, she’d pout and demand his attention to be back on her. While he’d give into her, you still remained in the back of his mind.

It was late in the evening, and Jungkook had decided to take a break from his hectic study schedule, opting to go for a walk around his dorm on campus.

As he neared the drop-off point for the shuttle, he couldn't help but think about you, remembering the first time you had met at a bus stand.

He stood there, lost in thought, when he suddenly saw a figure leaning against the street light.

An involuntary smile crossed his face as he couldn't believe the coincidence.

"_____, is that you?" Jungkook called out, waving to get your attention. He jogs to where you now stood upright.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. "Jungkook? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled and motioned to the bus station. "Well, it seems like the bus stands are our special spot. I thought I'd take a break and enjoy the nostalgia."

You let out a mix of a sigh and an awkward laugh, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, and he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Would you like to grab some dinner? We can catch up?"

You were caught off-guard.

"Right now? It's not late enough for dinner." You attempt to find an excuse.

"Sure it is. There's a new Chinese fusion restaurant right off the road outside." Jungkook urged.

"Fusion? What is it fused with?" You wondered.

Jungkook paused. "I... Actually don't know. Want to find out?" He smiled, invitingly.

Not used to the attention he was giving you just now, you found it difficult to tell him 'no'.

Especially when you really wanted to 'catch up' with him.

So, you reluctantly agreed, and the two of you were headed to the nearby restaurant.

Jungkook smiled back at you as he led the way, "Do you want me to hold your hand? It looks heavy."

WHAT?

Your mouth slightly parted open.

Oh, my god? What was his deal?

You're malfunctioning.

"No. I'd rather not..." You hesitantly refuse. Jungkook slows down to let to catch up to him. "Are you sure? You look like you've been carrying that around for a while. And, I really wouldn't mind it."

More confused than ever, "Well, it is attached to me. I'm okay."

"Well, un-attach it! I'll hold it for you." Jungkook's hands graze your shoulder.

Your brows furrow. Finally, you just ask him. "What?"

"Let me hold your bag. Unbuckle, un-attach, relax." Jungkook blabbered as he switched positions to walk behind you, gently taking your backpack off your shoulders.

Oh.

Oh, no. Did you really think he was asking to hold your hand? Really now?

You big dummy with a capital 'D'.

You sigh. "Okay. Thanks, but let me just-" You cut yourself off by unzipping your backpack and pulling out a white sweater with pearls for buttons.

The two of you pause mid-way so you can comfortably wear your sweater. The temperature was dropping my the hour.

Although you don't have your matching mittens and earmuffs, it should be fine.

"That's pretty, _____." Jungkook complimented you.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, thinking about how much Jia would like this kind of clothing.

You shyly blush and look down at your glossy, red pointed toe heels, "Thanks. I made it myself with the yarn my mother spun for me."

Jungkook looked genuinely impressed. "No way. That's got to be worth a lot then."

You stared up at him with big eyes. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to you.

(That's a lie. Your other friends have always praised your clothes and outfits. But this is different, so it's ok!)

You wordlessly, softly smile at him. Jungkook stares back at you.

Suddenly, his expression changes. His eyes grow big and his mouth forms a smile, "Ah! Could I commission you to make something just like that for Jia? She loves stuff like that!"

And just like that, your heart shattered. Again.

Your kind smile turned into a forced one. "Maybe if I have time."

You noted that he didn't demand or suggest you to make a sweater for Jia, but rather requested it and offered to compensate for it. That just tells you more about how considerate and present he is.

Every time you've talked to people about your handmade clothes, they'd beg you to make them one or jokingly ask about it so that if you do end up making something for them, they wouldn't have to pay you for your efforts. This doesn't include your friends, obviously. And, even if your friends were to act this way, you'd gladly gift them your handiwork.

Well, even though he's somewhat of a stranger to you, if Jungkook ever asked you for something, you'd probably just do it for him too. No questions asked.

Jungkook asked you about your day and your classes. And, you him.

As you were walking on the snow covered sidewalk, you mentally cuss yourself out for picking these shoes. Not only were your feet partially frozen and numb, but also you were ruining very expensive shoes.

"Oh! Puddle, watch out." Jungkook swiftly skipped over a puddle of water that horizontally covered a significant portion of the walkway from one end to the other.

You watched him regain his footing and turn back to you.

Does he expect you to leap like that? Your legs aren't as long as his! But, you don't gave a choice.

You can't step in it, it could very well be a hole of icy water. That'd be risking a potential amputation.

You can't walk around it because there's nowhere to go. And, you can't switch to walking on the road because, well it's dangerous, and there's a metal partition placed specifically to avoid mixing people on wheels and people on foot.

Jungkook puts his hand out for you to grab.

"Just put one foot out to this side and I'll pull you up. Don't worry! I've always done this with Jia." He mentions Jia, hoping to reassure you that he wouldn't let you slip.

All it does is make you more uneasy. Just the thought of Jia. It has an odd effect on you. Your body feels colder. You shudder briefly.

Your only goal now is to get past this stupid puddle without humiliating yourself. You realize that delaying this makes you look more cowardly, hence humiliating you.

So, you grab hold of Jungkook's surprisingly warm hand. Not going to lie, you faked some uncertainty just so you could keep holding his hand.

Someone has got to get you in check.

Jungkook urged you to trust him yet again. His stance showed he was prepared to pull you through.

You lift your left foot and somehow land it on the other side of the puddle. Not even a second after, Jungkook roughly pulls you to him with all his strength.

Not expecting this amount of force, you clumsily collide into his chest, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso to avoid falling back into the very puddle you were trying to get across from.

Jungkook reciprocates by circling his arms around your shoulders and head.

How you wished he held you elsewhere, but he was so respectful.

Everything happened so quickly.

Embarrassed, your breath hitched and you suddenly pushed him to the side.

"Sorry." You whisper. You don't know if he could even hear you.

You fix your sweater and continue staring at your feet, eyeing the little droplets of water on your pants.

Your tummy and nether regions were blazing fire and you felt your nipples slowly hardening. You clench your hands into fists, desperately praying nothing is visible. I mean, you were wearing white.

You wanted so badly for Jungkook to reach out, just stick his hand up your top and soothe your pretty, sensitive nips. Your breathing has become unstable for a few seconds.

You should be beaten up for having these thoughts about a taken man.

Jungkook suddenly places his hand on your arm, making you jolt. "We're close. Look, it's there." He smiles and points to the establishment.

"Great. I'm so cold." You try to play it off, just in case he noticed something.

You then cover your chest by flipping your hair back over it.

This time, he let you walk ahead of him.

On reaching the restaurant, Jungkook skipped ahead of you and pulled the door open for you. "After you." He smiled, goofily.

You blush and instantly shake it off, "Why, thank you. My fragile hands could never."

Jungkook and you were immediately hit by the warmth and coziness of the home style, Chinese fusion restaurant.

"Huh. This is not at all what I expected." Jungkook looked around, pleased with himself.

You replicated that action.

The restaurant was designed to replicate someone's home, or garage. It had unique tables and chairs. No two items were the same. Even most of cutlery was different.

You appreciated the dedication to this concept.

"Good evening! Table for two?" A very familiar voice interrupted you.

Your head abruptly turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Joon!" You exclaimed, rushing over to throwing yourself into his personal space.

Surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, Jungkook raised a brow. This was the most chipper he'd ever seen you.

Jungkook and Namjoon knew each other.

Other than from your constant yapping, Namjoon knew of Jungkook because Jungkook was actively trying to pursue Namjoon, pleading for him to be Jungkook's musical mentor. However, Namjoon wouldn't budge.

Namjoon instantaneously engulfs your whole body with his arms, rubbing your back.

When Namjoon clearly looked at the man stood behind you, his eyes widened.

No way.

Is this why you went off-grid? Had you finally managed to bag Jeon Jungkook? Namjoon was too stunned to move.

Namjoon was just about to ask you about it when Jungkook speaks instead. "Table for two is right. Thanks."

You let go off Namjoon, confirming Jungkook's words.

Whatever. Namjoon will be blowing your phone up later either way. So, he decided to let you off the hook for the rest of the evening.

Namjoon cheekily smiles at the two of you as he leads you into an isolated booth.

It was a space behind some beaded curtains, giving the illusion of the space being more private.

The table was relatively smaller and surrounding it were three chairs; two regular wooden ones with soft cushions, and one loveseat.

Then, Namjoon abruptly left.

You didn't realize what Namjoon was doing until he returned with two menus and something that looked like a candle and a lighter.

Oh, no.

No. This was NOT happening.

You frown and awkwardly wait for him to set the table up and leave.

What? There's nothing you can do or say without overreacting! It's not like you WANT to wine and dine your friend's boyfriend.

(You totally do, but you would not pull something like that purposely.)

Jungkook seemed to just go with the flow, unbothered.

You promptly sat yourself on one of the wooden chairs and Jungkook opted to sit on the comfortable loveseat.

"So, how do you know Namjoon?" Jungkook wasted no time.

"We've been friends for a while." You continue, "Jia too. She knows him."

At that, Jungkook raises a brow. Jia knows Namjoon? Jungkook has mentioned Namjoon many times before. Jia never indicated that she knew him.

Still, he brushed it off.

"How do you know him?" You ask.

"Oh, he's like rhythm and poetry royalty. I've been sending this man emails for months begging him to mentor me... I can't believe Jia- It's so weird, finally seeing the guy who kept rejecting me." He cut himself off towards the end.

He can't believe Jia WHAT? Tell me. PLEASE.

You painstakingly push your annoyance away.

Instead you laugh, "I had no idea he was being pursued by students, wow."

"Yeah..." Jungkook giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

As the evening went on, you talked quite a bit. If he noticed, he didn't mind your awkwardness.

As if you were suddenly remembering something, you hummed. "I take it you didn't tell Jia about the... thing?" You struggled to find the right words to describe it.

Jungkook slowly nodded and repeated, "The... Thing."

"Yeah. You know, about you guys? Dating?" You press your legs together, a little anxious.

"Oh! Right!" He smiled in realization, "I actually did end up telling her about it that same night." He nodded, this time, positively.

You froze and your face dropped.

Had you been drinking something at that moment, you'd have spat that out. If you were eating at that moment, you'd have dropped your utensils on the floor.

"And then we talked about you for a while. I told her you gave me your word. I mean, I'm sure she already told you..." He continued.

Jia. She knows you know.

"Because she panicked..." Jungkook kept talking but at that point you had tuned him out.

Your mouth involuntarily formed a sad pout. Your eyes which were drying out from tiredness, slowly began to fill up with tears of... frustration, and anger, and confusion.

She knew.

She didn't even try to talk to you.

You assumed she was just busy.

But, she was actually just avoiding you. Just as you her.

Your eyes were glazed over.

The humiliation, guilt, anger and paranoia set in all at once.

Does this mean... Jungkook knows? Is he toying with you?

No. That's far-fetched. Way off. He'd never do that. He was so nice to you all night.

But, he IS a nice guy. Why wouldn't he be nice?

You're starting to make less sense now.

You don't even blink because if you do, your tears won't hold themselves back.

Jia fucking knew and avoided you on purpose. She couldn't face you. She fucking betray you, and she couldn't handle it. She didn't want to face it.

Jungkook sensed that there was something on your mind. "_____, is something wrong? Should I not have told her? What's going on?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't used to being impulsive. That was never you. But, lately, that streak was becoming increasingly steady.

So, you decided to open up. Like an idiot.

"It's me."

Jungkook nervously smiled, "It's you?"

"The 'creep' with the schoolgirl crush." You added.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned in, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity. "You? But... I don't understand."

He shook his head and stared at you, expecting you to keep going.

Great job, idiot.

You didn't have a choice now.

You took a deep breath and began to explain, "I had a crush on you, Jungkook. I have a crush on you. I've never been silent about it." You winced.

The tears. They're coming.

"I mean, I've never been silent about it with my friends. Including Jia."

The knot forming in your throat felt tighter.

Jungkook listened carefully, trying to make sense of this... revelation. "So, it was all a misunderstanding? There was never a 'creep'?" He reasoned.

You kept your eyes trained down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever. "I... No? I don't know." Your eyes were heavy with tears. Your nose began to sting.

You pressed your lips together to hold all the ugly sobs in, and squeezed your eyes shut.

"_____?" Jungkook questioned worriedly.

You furrowed your brows and frantically shook your head, "Jia. Everyone, my friends, everyone knew about it- that I liked you. From the day we met. The- it was like a mixer?" You slouch and let your arms fall to your sides, "I can't remember. I've liked you for so long..." You trail off silently shedding tears.

You inhale before letting out a little squeaky apology.

Jungkook only looks at you. He doesn't understand, or register anything.

"_____..." Jungkook begins.

"I didn't know Jia was your girlfriend. I'd always talk to her about you, and how good you looked on whatever, whenever- and how you, and then she..." Your shoulders begin to shake towards the end of your sentence. You fully began to cry.

Thank goodness you were separated from the rest of the restaurant-goers.

You were clearly unable to hold a conversation.

You wanted to bang your head on the table. Repeatedly.

Jungkook's brows almost touched his hairline.

"I'M the 'creep' she told you about. I'm the reason for... But I didn't know. I SWEAR. Until you told me. I knew then." You sniffle every two seconds. "I was going to tell you how I felt but then you- I'm sorry!" You finally broke down, sobbing into your hands.

"Hey. Just... breathe, okay?" You felt Jungkook shimmy out of his seat and back away from the table. He then walks over to you.

You already knew tomorrow's _____ was going to kill herself.

Jungkook pours you a glass of water.

He has no idea what to tell you.

He can't find the words to even begin to describe what he's feeling right now.

Jungkook's brain had stopped generating new thoughts. All he's thinking about is the crying girl in front of him, half-heartedly confessing her feelings for him.

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked down at you.

You are whom his girlfriend was worried about?

The same girl whom he hadn't stopped thinking about the past weeks.

The same girl who's his girlfriend's friend. His girlfriend.

His girlfriend who lied- hid things from him.

Had you planned this? Was Jia right to hide him away?

Jungkook really doesn't know what to think.

Jungkook needed to leave. He felt suffocated.

"_____, I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I... wish I had known the truth earlier." Jungkook solemnly spoke.

He hoped you believed him. He can't tell if you're in the right frame of mind to talk. He knows he sure isn't.

You sniffle harder, still appreciating his understanding. "I honestly just wanted to clear the air and be honestly honest with you...." You sigh deeply, speaking shakily. "I just thought... Maybe Jia would talk to me herself. And when she didn't--- I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Jungkook just stood by you, unmovingly. It was as if he himself was trying to figure out what to say.

After what felt like forever, you hesitantly lift your head up to look at Jungkook, "I understand if you'd want to leave now."

And you meant it. You couldn't force him to watch you cry like an idiot. So, you understandingly told him he had a free will, that he could walk away.

And he really did.

Jungkook stared down at your tear-stained face for a few seconds.

Then without uttering a single word, he slowly blinked at you and walked away.

Now, you stare at the back of his head, wide-eyed.

You didn't expect him to actually leave this instance.

I mean, he didn't owe you anything, but you still felt uneasy.

The rational part of you truly understood his choice. But the emotional part of you was destroyed.

Even though you have no right to feel this way, you're so disappointed. In him. In yourself. In Jia. You think that's well deserved though; your disappointment in Jia.

Did she hate you?

Nothing else mattered.

You don’t know it yet but the biggest burden had just been lifted off your shoulders.

(Until you face Jia. But, more on that later.)

And, as for Jia; Jia had enough time to come clean. This was not on you. It was all her.

[moonlight-prose]

✧ LOOKING AT ME ✧

a/n: my first ever solo jake fic! it's been a long time coming and what a better way to drop it than during kinktober. he'd be honored honestly for such a debut. this fic goes out to the anon who asked if i'd be writing for jake this year. i hope you especially enjoy it babes.

day four - cockwarming + dirty talk | kinktober 2023

summary: "perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. but you never said you were smart when it came to jake seresin."

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mean!jake, dom!jake, cockwarming, edging, a lot of jealousy, cumplay but not really, biting, dirty talk.

“What was that honey?” Jake’s voice echoed smoothly in your ear, but you barely heard them. The deep husk of his tone sent you reeling as his hands slid down your torso—pressing against your hot skin. “Did you say something?”

You keened, gasping for breath as he toyed with your nipples, delighting in how they hardened against the rough pads of his thumbs. For an hour you had been perched on his lap completely naked and pressed against his clothed body. Except he was buried deep inside you—keeping you still as you cockwarmed him. Although you were pretty sure this was more about driving you to the brink of insanity.

“Could have sworn you said…” His fingers dropped down, tapping lightly against your throbbing clit. You cried out, your hand latching onto his wrist in an attempt to keep him there. “Sorry.”

It wasn’t your idea to go out dancing. In fact it was Phoenix who had brought up the suggestion to the rest of the Dagger Squad. You joined thinking it would be a night to remember—some fun to counteract the stress of the week. But things hadn’t gone according to plan. In fact you were pretty sure things would have been better if you had stayed home altogether.

Thirty minutes in Jake’s mood turned sour for some reason or another, and he seemed intent on souring yours as well. Except instead of joining him in his melancholy, you decided to push his buttons further. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. But you never said you were smart when it came to Jake Seresin. Shit, you weren’t even prepared to suffer the consequences of what your actions would ensue.

Another twenty minutes passed and you found yourself drunk, on the dance floor, and with someone who wasn’t Jake. He was nice enough. Certainly not there to hit on you, but more so there to enjoy the music and nightlife. Facts that apparently hadn’t crossed Jake’s mind.

It took him five minutes to grab you, call a cab, and whisper your punishment in your ear on the way home—his hands never leaving your body, even as you practically sat in his lap.

“What did you think would happen?” His lips dragged along your shoulder. “You think you could find someone else?”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as he thrusted up into your dripping pussy. There was no doubt that you had made a mess in his lap. With the way he’d been edging you—dragging you right to the edge, but pulling away the second you tipped over. His arms locked you down, keeping your hips from wriggling even as he dragged you towards yet another lost release.

“J-Jake—”

His teeth clamped onto your neck, silencing you quickly as a throaty moan ripped from your chest. “Tell me…” He tugged on your nipple, feeling you shudder in his hold. “Did you think he was handsome?”

That’s what this was about.

Whether he liked to admit it or not Jake didn’t like when something infringed on what he had. He didn’t like that you went to find another person to spend your night with. It didn’t matter that you saw it as perfectly innocent. To him…you were choosing someone else. For as much as he acted cocky and self assured, Jake was quite the opposite. Unable to see past his own fears.

“N-No,” you choked out, digging your nails into his forearms. “Please…fuck, fuck—”

He grinded up into you, striking perfectly and causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “No, of course not.” His fingers slid through your slick, spreading around his cock that filled you. “He couldn’t fill you like this huh? Couldn’t make you drip like this?”

You shook your head, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Except that wasn’t enough for him—it would never be enough to appease the flare of jealousy that stuck to his chest. He gripped your throat, pushing your head back—his lips pressing against your ear.

“Use your words honey.”

“No!” You sobbed, legs trembling as he thrusted up into you again. “H-He’s not you.”

He grinned. “You’re damn right he isn’t.”

“L-Love you.”

Gripping your hips, he rolled them down, the wet squelch of your slick echoing in the room. “Yeah? You love me?”

You nodded, your mouth dropping open. You could feel it. The burning sensation growing with each shift of your hips. Only this time it was stronger than before; nearly melting you from the inside out. For a brief moment you wondered if you would survive this—if Jake had pushed your body to a limit neither of you knew existed. But you found yourself hurtling towards it faster than you could comprehend it.

“Can feel you squeezing me,” he grunted, shoving his hips up. “You gonna soak me? Make a mess of this couch?”

A garbled echo of what you assumed to be yes tore from your throat. Or at least that’s what both of you guessed it to be. Your nails scratched down his arms with earnest, chest heaving with each stunted thrust into your pussy, and that’s when you heard it. The soft press of his words against your throat. The words he’d been wanting to say all night.

“Was gonna ask you to move in,” he gasped, teeth scraping along your throat. “‘S why I didn’t want to go—fuck you feel like heaven.”

Your heart fluttered, heat spilling through your body and consuming you completely. Until you could no longer tell up from down—your mind a jumble of I love you and yes please. But you couldn’t get any of the words out. They were stuck in your throat. Coherency being traded in for utter bliss.

“Want to feel you—” His fingers slid to your clit, swirling fast circled to shove you off completely. “I’ll give it to ya.” His teeth scraped your ear, breath hot against your cheek. “Gonna cum so deep I’ll drip outta ya all night.”

You broke with a scream, your body completely lost to your own control. He held you close, latching his teeth onto your shoulder and following you with a pained cry—his cock filling you so full you swore you felt some leak into his lap. Except you could barely even focus on your own name. Jake had fucked all the sense out of your head, leaving you with nothing but thoughts of him.

For you a few minutes that’s where you remained. Spread out on his lap as he kissed every part of your skin he could reach; his palms cupping the weight of your breasts, thumbing gently at your nipples. He let you remain that way. Content in his arms until you slowly began to feel his promise come to light. The sticky warmth of his cum began to pool at the base of his cock, sending sparks up your spine.

“Yes,” you breathed, turning your head to catch his lips in a soft kiss. A complete difference to how he fucked you before. “I’ll move in with you.”

He grinned, his nose dragging along your cheek. “Even with my bummer attitude?”

You snorted, pulled away and laughed when he nipped at your jaw. “I never said that. But yes. Even with that.”

“Hm,” he sighed, his chin making a home on your shoulder. “Love you honey.”

“I love you too Jake.”

[nekropsii]

I saw a lot of people recently saying they purposely skipped the entire Openbound sequence because of Hussie's self-insert alongside like Meenah being interested in Karkat and characters like Meulin encouraging it

but that like doesn't make sense to me, because if they're going about Homestuck by skipping all the potentially uncomfortable portions, then how are they going about reading the comic in the first place?

I think my favorite part of this is how those are, frankly, pussy-ass reasons to skip it. Hussie's Author Avatar sucks on purpose, always, and Meenah is textually in the wrong there. She has a very poor grasp of consequences and the concept of what is right and wrong, it's a big part of her character. It's why her whole relationship with (Vriska) exists, which is also textually immoral, is handled and addressed as such, and paints Meenah as being predatory, intentionally or not, for chasing after someone so much younger than her who is, just... So vulnerable, mentally. Honestly, if they're skipping over the entirety of the Openbounds just for Meenah's weird obsession with Karkat, then did they skip over her relationship with (Vriska), too? Because that was very solid, fascinating characterization for both of those characters. And, again, paints her as creepy for doing it, because... She is. And it was a part of the "main comic", so to speak. What did they do about that? Is that fine? Did they skip all of those pages, no matter what? What's the limit here? Is this specifically an aversion to the concept of abuse in a relationship, period? Did they skip any page circling the relationship between Vriska and Tavros, or Gamzee and Terezi? Is it specifically an aversion to abusive and predatory age gaps? Did they skip all of Doc Scratch's pages and interactions with all of the girls? Is it specifically an aversion to an adult sexually abusing a minor? So, did they skip Dave Strider's entire intro, which is thickly soaked in the fact that he's getting abused, including sexually, by his 30+ year old brother?

Everyone has a right to be uncomfortable about anything, but the author intent is clear here- Meenah is in the wrong, and anyone supporting her actions is also wrong. This kind of makes criticizing the inclusion of her actions into the storyline... Well, bullshit, frankly. Not liking the inclusion of abuse because abuse as a baseline makes you uncomfortable is not a criticism, it is a statement of preference, and with that I have to gesture towards the entire rest of the comic, because Homestuck is full of that very same kind of abuse, and it is bad and graphic every time. Criticism of the inclusion of abuse within a storyline has to be about the handling and execution of that abuse within the confines of the plot, and in this case, and all other cases, I think Meenah's abusive tendencies are outlined pretty clearly as being a bad thing. If you read her actions as an endorsement of being a violent, selfish, predatory bully with basically no concept of morality or consequences, you either are illiterate, didn't actually read any one of the pages she was in and got your opinion from someone else, or you are reading in bad faith on purpose. She is literally a version of Her Imperious Condescension, which is, like, one of the main fucking villains of the comic. Hussie's Avatar is also wrong, and you should hate him. That is the point of Hussie's Avatar. His role in the story is being annoying, weird, and wrong. Hussie's Avatar is not actually very reflective of Hussie as a person. Hussie doesn't like The Avatar. This is pretty obvious if you pay attention to him for five seconds.

So... These aren't instances of the Openbounds being written badly, they're instances of the readers being unwilling to engage with something that could even just potentially be uncomfortable despite that same thing permeating throughout the rest of the damn webcomic and also getting their opinions from other people, uncritically. Sigh. Homestuck being full of weird uncomfortable plot beats is... Literally fine. It's normal, it's handled pretty decently as a baseline, and phenomenally at other times. It's made for adult people who can think critically about these things. A lot of those uncomfortable aspects were... You know... Intentional? There's a point to Meenah creeping on people younger than her, and it's a deliberate one. Skipping the Openbounds for it is stupid horseshit. Doc Scratch already did that. Bro Strider did that to Dave and people love that guy. I ask gently for people to grow a spine. Think for yourself. Read something yourself, unbiased, before casting judgment. Good lord.

[codacheetah]

Hey, so, the dagger conversation, right?

You know the one. You loop with tears 20+ times, Loop goes "haha tears so annoying right!" and then you pester Loop about being able to kill yourself with your dagger until. They get possessed.

Yeah, so, uh. Loop getting possessed. Why is that? What takes hold of them in this moment, and why is it now that Loop defying Siffrin is met with such severe pushback?

I think Siffrin accidentally bound Loop with a wish, in which they were forced to give Siffrin "permission" to use the dagger in order to fulfill the wish's conditions. (Explanation under cut.)

So. Wishes. What do we know about them? Well, we know that Wish Craft requires a combination of ritual and intent to perform. You must have a strong desire, and for this desire to reach the Universe, you have to perform some kind of action that opens the line of communication. We... don't know, fully, what rituals exist, but we do know that a significant part of Wish Craft rituals is repetition of certain numbers, one of which being three.

Now let's consider the dagger conversation. Loop asks Siffrin if they're annoyed yet, having to find a Tear every time they want to loop, before saying there's no faster way. You then have the option of agreeing, or mentioning your dagger. If you keep pushing, Loop gets angry and tells Siffrin that they don't want him to use the dagger. Something important to note about the following text choices is that, up until the third time you insist on using your dagger, you have the option to back out.

And then the third time. Loop gets angry at Siffrin for pushing the issue, and Siffrin replies "And who are you to tell me what to do?!" Loop tries to say something, before...

Loop gets possessed. Siffrin repeats his intent to do something (in this case, use his dagger to kill himself) three times, and Loop, on the third instance, suddenly loses the ability to defy Siffrin on the matter.

Recall the "SAY ITS NAME" sequence with the King. Siffrin and the King attempt to say the Island's name, violating whatever wish has its hold on the Island, and suffer physical injuries (to the point of death!) for doing this. Loop tries to rebuke Siffrin, and they experience sudden pain. And then... they loop. We know, because of the twohats fight, that Loop has the capability to loop independently of Siffrin. I believe that's what happened here, as well. They then are possessed, giving Siffrin "permission" to use the dagger, before looping once more.

It's just. I really don't know how to explain what happened to Loop without attributing it to Wish Craft.

Universe stuff indeed.

There is, of course, the question of "hey if Wish Craft can just Do That then isn't it likely that you could just force people to do whatever you want?!"

Well. I don't think that's likely. Remember Loop's role. They're here to help Siffrin. It's part of their own wish. And what constitutes helping Siffrin? Guiding them to keys, pointing out dead ends, giving you tutorials.

We know that combined wishes can have incredible levels of power. See: the timeloops.

It of course goes without saying that I sincerely doubt Siffrin would ever purposefully force Loop into this position, even at their worst. It's just not something he would do. We know Siffrin uses Wish Craft somewhat liberally and unconsciously, even within the loops, making a wish for strength/power/speed at the Change God statue, sharpening the KeyKnife. However, Wish Craft is... deeply caked in the general concept of "unintended consequences." I wouldn't put "violently taking over your mind and body" above the Universe.

TLDR; Siffrin holds the desire of "let me use my dagger" and accidentally Crafts it into a wish through the use of ritual (repetition 3 times). Loop is subject to "help" Siffrin, and through defying this role, they violate the conditions of Siffrin's wish. In response to Loop looping back to avoid physical injury/death, the Universe commands Loop's vessel to force the wish's conditions to be fulfilled in the most "direct" way possible.

[strixcattus]

Alright let's get this figured out

The PRISONER and the WITCH are both about trust, from different angles. One is about its presence, the other its absence. The PRISONER can also be about... not going to lie, I really don't know what to make of the "chain yourself up" path.

The DAMSEL is about the storybook "love against all odds" sort of victory. It's happy, it's quick, and it's easy. Maybe too easy. Which is why the DECONSTRUCTED DAMSEL is here for the cynics who refuse to accept a happy ending and press further to reveal the hollow center beneath the thin, brightly-painted paper shell.

The BEAST is about the Princess taking matters into her own hands against an opponent. And about trust, to a degree—the need for her to make her own escape comes from her inability to trust you.

The ADVERSARY is probably one of the ones that's most straightforwardly about love. It just... frames it through the lens of violence. Consensual violence.

The TOWER is about agency (via a lack thereof). This one doesn't ring as clear to me as most of the others, though.

The SPECTRE is about forgiveness and second chances—but also about how trust can be easily shattered after betrayal.

The NIGHTMARE is another tricky one. The most I can do is it's about facing your fears (or giving in to them).

The DEN and the EYE OF THE NEEDLE are both about refusing to accept the Princess's terms and instead finding a way to overcome her. That seems to be the guts trio's specialty. The DEN can also be about like... forgiveness and growth, if you take a certain path.

The THORN is primarily about forgiveness and trust, and the ways in which you can earn it or lose it forever.

The APOTHEOSIS is about what the Princess can be at her peak—and about how you still have the chance to fight back, even when she has reached it.

The MOMENT OF CLARITY is also about the Princess's power, to an extent. But it's also about choice, and about how the only way to end a path without breaking it is to set the Princess free, and it's also about seeing the Voices at their most broken.

The RAZOR and the STRANGER are both about choice, and about how having too many options can sometimes be the same as having no options at all. The RAZOR is also about discovering and accepting your true nature, and using it to rise above your opponent.

The WRAITH is about betrayal and revenge. It's also about trust, like the Thorn, but in terms of what happens after you've run out of it.

The WILD is about getting a peek behind the curtains. It's also about the different ways to forgive and degrees of forgiveness, or the choice not to. In a way, it's the opposite of the Thorn route.

The GREYS are about living with the consequences of your actions when those actions can't be undone. Whether you knew what you were doing or not, an apology will not fix things when there is blood on your hands.

The FURY is a more complicated case. It's somewhat about rejecting the Princess's intentions so thoroughly her entire existence is shattered, and somewhat about anger and betrayal, but I can't pull anything clean from it. I'm guessing it'll become clearer in the Pristine Cut.

A lot of these chapters are about trust or forgiveness. I suppose it makes some sense.

[marwen-prince-of-dusk]

To Soothe A Burning Heart

A Messmer the Impaler x Reader Fanfiction, written at the request of a dear friend.

Debut work by Marwen, Prince of Dusk. ---------------------------------

A once radiant sun, dulled by the velvety shroud of the Erdtree, looms overhead.

Warm and dreary the land may seem, a dry coldness bites through the air.

Certainly a cool that would be alien to those held warmly within the bosom of Shadow Keep, nestled firmly atop the rolling hills just past Castle Ensis. 

The black fortress was helmed by a great, red maned serpent; Known by most as The Impaler, he was formerly embraced by the matriarch of the golden lineage, Queen Marika.

Yes, indeed, Queen Marika was once mother to the infamous red prince.

The tale known to few that it may be, The Impaler has indeed lived a long, ghastly life.

However; Therein lies your purpose.

Your duty within Shadow Keep, an attendant to The Impaler himself, is to ease his suffering. To tend his wounds, to mend his heart, to lend your gentle touch and whisper into his ear nothing but the sweetest songs of comfort and ease.

Yet, you would not dare call him “The Impaler”, no; Such an action would see his spear through your heart.

The only name of your lord, of course, is Messmer.

Messmer..

Oh, Messmer..

His beauty had ensnared you once more. His marred body had started to clear slightly whilst under your supervision, and after so many centuries, you had begun to develop an appreciation for his gaunt features. Of course, a son of Queen Marika was sure to be no less than tantalising; However, a chill runs up your spine while you are lost within your thoughts. 

The fiery gaze with which he pierces the solemn darkness of his chambers..

The very same fiery gaze that seems to be meeting yours at this very moment.

Of course, you’d been staring at him. Watching him. Observing him during a rare period of rest… You must have drifted off into thought, as you often do while admiring his figure from afar.

Messmer seems unbothered by this, if a bit curious.

His voice cuts through the silence like a blade through mortal flesh. With his attention gained, his crimson snakes flourish, as their flames light his face dimly.

He speaks out to you;

“Your eyes. They’ve been loath to leave me, for quite some time. Whyever wouldst thou glare at me in such a manner? With such.. want?”

You are startled by his voice, as you’ve rarely heard him speak. After all, there is little that needs to be communicated to those who understand their role.

You attempt to respond to his admittedly forward line of questioning, but you are unable to utter a single word. Perhaps it is the duality of his beauty that has caught your tongue? You can not say for certain, although what can and can not be said matters little when faced with further inquisition from such an intense man.

“You would draw attention to my wounds.. To my scars. With intent to ‘fix’.”

Still stricken soundly by a heavy silence, you can barely turn your head.

“Such is your duty as my attendant, I suppose. You are bewitched by silence, and yet the expression upon your face is singing me a song carrying with it not an inkling of subtlety.”

Messmer extends his hand to you with slight caution, owing to his little experience in being the first to engage.

You place your hand in his palm, gently feeling over his calluses. They were surely formed as a result of the constant battles from ages past; It had been clear before that Messmer was no stranger to violence, but to feel even a fraction of the toll it had taken on his body left a feeling of pity somewhere deep within your heart.

A sea of warmth comes over you, as you feel the urge to embrace him. Unsure of the consequences of doing so, there was indeed hesitation.

Understanding fully that such a deed could possibly end in your likeness haunting him as nothing more than another mounted corpse among the countless others, you place your hands upon his face.

It’s softer than you had thought it would have been. As you caress his cheeks softly, Messmer’s eyes widen ever so slightly.

It’s true; He had never experienced a love such as this, even from his own mother. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about her~ He had spent a vast majority of his life taking orders from the woman, and the series of events that led up to the two of you sharing each other’s company in this very moment were indeed events that weighed heavily upon his mind.

This feeling was something new. A warmth that he had never experienced previously, not in all of his thousands of years of life.

A flame unlike any that he had used in his crusade against the towerfolk of Belurat.

“You’d..”

He looks down towards the stone floor, then back up slightly.

“You would have…”

He pauses, taking a moment to think to himself.

“Me?”

He looks you in the eye, and places his hand on yours.

You nod to him slowly, bringing him in as you wrap your arms around him and rest your head over his shoulder.

He seems bewildered, caught off guard.

With hesitation, he brings his hand to your back and presses you gently against his chest, mindful of the serpent protruding from his body.

You break away from his chest after a few minutes, looking into his golden eyes.

You slowly lift the helmet from his head, running your fingers through his coarse hair. It’s lost its vibrancy and lustre over the centuries, having been resigned to solitude in Shadow Keep away from the kiss of sunlight.

With your fingernails, you brush it carefully so as to not break any of his fragile locks. Messmer seems to relax slightly while you care for his hair, letting out a quiet, if shaky, sigh of relief.

He closes his eyes slowly, allowing himself to be vulnerable. You let him down slowly, setting his head down on your lap as you continue to brush through his hair with your fingers.

After a while, you stop and lean down to kiss softly the head of the sleeping prince.

This was your purpose.

Having exchanged no words, Messmer understood it just as well as you did.

For the first time in his life, he had felt fulfilled, though he knew not the word for such a strange feeling.

As the dark sun sets over the Land of Shadow, a moon rises in it’s place and shines through the entrance, lighting Messmer’s face. He looks.. Content. At ease.

There is no telling what will happen when dawn breaks.

What he will say, what he will do. If he will even acknowledge today’s events.

But even he, in his slumber, knew this much…

“Contempt..”

“Hatred..”

“Guilt..”

“Shame..”

“All burns away when your kindly hand meets mine.”

“For this, I couldn’t, with any worldly power, let you go;”

“I’d sooner let our lands of shadow burn than live an eternity parted with you.”

“Perhaps I’d even forsake her, yes, it is true…”

“If it meant that you and I could start a life anew.”

.

..

…

Thank you for reading.

This is my first complete work of fiction, as may be made clear by its short length.

However, I hope that you found it pleasurable to scroll through.

Since I am not content with the length of this fanfiction, I will likely continue to add onto it until I’m satisfied.

I had an excellent time writing this, and hope you enjoyed reading it just as much.

-Marwen

[diabolicalacid]

birds of a feather— orpheus and eurydice

warning/s : suggestive content (smut), minors DNI.

you find yourself peeking at the door every once in a while. your focus should be fixed on the art assignment sitting on the easel in front of you. you’re due for a submission this week. but the brush held in your right hand, busy filling in the colours between the lines that are supposed to be a rendition of orpheus and eurydice, halts every time you look away and divert your gaze to the door, postponing the completion of your painting furthermore.

you don’t understand why your brain is unable to comprehend the fact that losing your focus and staring at the door won’t make time go any faster. there will still be thirty days in a month, twenty four hours in a day, sixty minutes in a hour, so on and so forth.

in your defence, it’s been forty minutes already. forty whole minutes since you received a text from atsumu, who told you he’d show up to your dorm room in twenty minutes. you don’t want to think of him negatively. however, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been lied to once again by the same man, and if yes, how could you let it happen. you don’t want to doubt his word, but given the very recent history you share, you aren’t sure about the extent atsumu miya can be trusted to. in fact, you shouldn’t be wagering your trust in him at all.

because after last night, you really thought you had a chance with him only because he took you out on a wholesome date, made you feel like you’re on cloud nine, then fucked you dumb through the night. there’s no harm in saying that he led you on a little too much.

then, he went ahead and broke your fragile heart into a million tidbits. in his defence, he had a good enough reason to. now of course, he was clear about what he wanted from you, and under the circumstances that you were to date, you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to be thinking of some other chick while he’s with you. despite the realisation, your naive heart was and is still expecting more.

while you’re thinking through things, you realise, maybe, just maybe, you’re being a little delusional in this case. he was clear enough about his intentions, and you were the one who gave him a green light when it came to sex. putting the blame on him doesn’t cut it. if anything, you’re just as much to blame. but it’s easier for you to call him the bad guy. so that’s what you’ve been doing so far.

you think you need to buckle up and face the reality whatever it may be. whether atsumu remains in your life only as a friend or turns into a complete stranger, whether you end up dating him some time in the future, or if you end up in a casual relationship with him. no matter the outcome, you’ll have to face it head on without whining about it. consider it the consequences of your actions.

you leapt into something without giving it much thought, and now you must come to face the ending, may it be sweet or bitter. it doesn’t matter. you’ll have to accept things as they are. this is the philosophy you whisper to oneself, shading eurydice’s hair. you aren’t sure if she was a brunette or a blonde, so you stick to brown. kimura wouldn’t care much for it.

at twenty five minutes past three, there’s a knock at your door. you’re quick to drop your brush to the floor, splattering the pink paint on your carpet. you grimace at the splash of paint on your new carpet before you rush to the door.

you take a deep breath and arrange your thoughts before you open the door. you know it’s atsumu on the other side, and you have to train your brain before you let him in, so that this evening doesn’t lead to the same place last night led you to.

if he’s here for a conclusion, that’s all today will be focused on. although, you have to accept, last night was too good to be only a one time thing. so if his hands try something they shouldn’t, it might be difficult for you to resist as well. you really can’t blame yourself in this case, he was just too good last night. not that you can make a fair judgment, since he’s the only experience you’ve had so far.

there’s only so low you can stoop. from feeling absolutely ridiculous in your skin after you found out you were lied to by atsumu following your interaction last night, to thinking about offering yourself to him once again today, you can only curse yourself for having these thoughts.

in front of you, stands atsumu with a bouquet of flowers, not sunflowers, but roses. you bet he did that on purpose, but at least he got you flowers. it’s the thought that counts. there’s a transparent polythene bag in his hand containing snacks, a family sized tub of ice cream, and of course, the cake you made for him the night before, that he had taken with him when he left this morning. he really came prepared to save a damsel in distress. after ten years of rin, he sure does know how to warm a girl’s heart.

yours, being utterly gullible, is even easier to lure into a trap.

“here.” he holds out the bouquet of roses in the space separating the two of you, “for you.”

you offer him a bland smile, accepting the gift he has brought for you, “thank you.”

you head inside to place the bouquet of flowers on your bedside table, leaving atsumu hanging at the door. once the bouquet is set on the table, you turn around to return to him, hoping to relieve him of the load he’s come carrying.

you extend your hand, gesturing for him to offer you a few things to share the weight between the two of you. he hands you the packaged snacks sitting at the very top of the heap. you take them and enter inside, nudging atsumu, “come on in.” atsumu follows.

you roll your eyes, taunting, “you’re late.”

“sorry, cut-“ he stops, then rephrases and continues, “sorry, i mean, yn.”

your heart cracks when he refrains from calling you the nickname you were so generously offered yesterday. you don’t pay it much mind and continue walking ahead of him.

“i had to come over with resources.” he shrugs, patting your head, quipping at you, “for this whiny little girl.”

he mentions, “i had to take a detour, so of course, it took me some time.” his hand is still resting on your head as he follows you. you take it off and pick up pace.

you know he’s mocking you and that instantly spurs the anger within you. you want to turn around and smack him in the face, you want to show him stars in broad daylight, but you know better than to do that. you continue walking towards the tiny kitchen counter in your room to place the bags of snacks over it. atsumu follows, putting down the polythene bag on the countertop next to the snacks.

he picks out the packet of his favourite chips and his birthday cake from among the things he purchased for you and walks over to the bed. he jumps in, placing the packet of chips and the cake next to him.

from where he’s at, he can see you scanning around the various packets of snacks to pick out your favourite. you seem to be perplexed and unable to decide. he decides to help you out. he comes over to stand next to you, imitating your serious expression as you’re going through each packet. you look him from the corner of your eye, rolling your eyes as you pick out your favourite from the options available to you.

his hand curls itself around your waist, and he pulls you in by the side, whispering, “get me a spoon, will you?”

“what the hell?” you quake as his unexpected touch startles you.

you grip his hand and throw it off you. the audacity, you think to yourself. you turn around to face him, glaring daggers, seething, “behave.”

“you weren’t so stiff last night, cut—“ he smirks, then again, he stops mid sentence, clearing his throat, rephrasing, “yn.”

you roll your eyes at him, swatting his forehead, murmuring as you stand on your tip toes to lean closer to his face, deriving support by placing your hands around his neck, “just call me cutie if that’s what your mouth is trying to do.”

he looks at you, utterly smug, “that’s not what my mouth is trying to do, and you know it.”

you know exactly what he’s referring to, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, colouring them a dark shade of pink. atsumu kisses your flushed cheeks, putting his hand against your back.

“besides, i can’t risk it, someone takes things too seriously around here.” his palm moves to rest against the nape of your neck and he pulls you closer, his words falling onto your lips with only an inch of space separating them from his.

you choose to ignore the fact that he’s still taunting you. rather, it’s the proximity between the two of you that startles you. you can say it for a second time since crossing paths with atsumu, but you really weren’t expecting this.

you move back, finding yourself thrust against the edge of the counter. you turn your back on him and start nervously rummaging through the stand to look for two spoons, shaky hands unaware of what they’re looking for as you go through every utensil in the stand, coming across multiple spoons several times, but you fail to register the fact. he makes a note of this.

your hair is tied up, bound in a clutch, because you were busy painting and you didn’t want your it to be smeared in oil paint. atsumu unfastens your clutch, locking it around the sleeve of your sundress, allowing your long hair to flow against your back. you want to turn around and cuss him out, but you ask yourself not to. you want to grab your head and put it up in a bun. but you don’t. instead, you busy yourself, and you continue to look for spoons for the two of you.

you feel the air around you clear when atsumu walks away for a moment in response to his phone ringing. you breathe a sigh of relief, only to find yourself fooled. he cuts the call and makes his way back to you, coming to stand right behind you.

atsumu wraps his arms around your abdomen, resting his chin on your head, suggesting, “maybe i should help you look for cutlery.”

you squiggle your body, urging him to set you free. he lets go of you and positions himself next to you, intently staring at your nervous hands still looking around for the spoons, even though they’re resting right in front of you.

his hand takes a hold of yours, and he guides it around the counter in order to grab two spoons, poking your cheek, laughing, “here you go.”

he stands right behind you, grabbing your chin in his hand, with the other enveloping your waist. he leans forward, speaking in an undertone, “now, cutie. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” his breath is hot and as it settles against the skin of your face, your cheeks turn to red from the pink.

you gather yourself and hiss at him, shoving a butter knife through a pack of marshmallows lying on the counter, “no funny business.” atsumu drops your face, taking a step behind to create a distance between the two of you.

“we’re over.” you state, tossing the knife away.

he carefully collects your hair in his hands, positioning them in the front against your shoulder, exposing the skin of your back for him. atsumu envelopes his arms around your chest, catching you by surprise yet again. he leaves feathery kisses on the nape of your neck. then, on the skin of your back, forcing you to grip the edge of the counter.

he withdraws, shifting your hair to cover your back, mumbling next to your ear, “we were nothing to begin with.”

you’ve had enough. you pick the butter knife you previously threw away and turn around, threatening him, “you’ve got to stop.” the truth is, you’re enjoying this. it’s stimulating you and you wouldn’t want to miss out on the chance pleasuring yourself, but you don’t want to seem weak, so you decide to take a stand.

“just what are you here for?” you growl at him, hurling the knife at him, only because you know it won’t hurt. you’re no murderer, just a mad woman.

he raises his hand, catches the knife midway in the air, and snatches it away from your grasp. he twirls it between his fingers before he throws it to the floor, raising his brow at you, suspicious of your intent.

“i wasn’t actually going to hit you.” you mumble, scrunching your face.

atsumu suddenly sweeps you into his embrace, his hands engulfing you whole, making you lose balance, coercing you to take hold of his shoulders. you screech, eyes full of surprise wide open at him, “what the—“

“you ask what i’m here for, cutie?” he repeats your question to him, a coy smile lining his lips as he grabs a strand of your hair, curling it around his finger to play around with.

he answers, “to comfort you.” he kisses you on the lips. then, on your cheeks, followed by your neck, back to your lips.

you know you should push him away, but something about his tongue waging a passionate war with your own is enough for you to give in. his soft lips touching you at your weakest spots makes you weak in the knees. you’re no one to retaliate against a man who knows exactly what’s he’s doing. you don’t want to push him off you, you want more of him, and you want to give him more of you.

atsumu separates his lips from your own, and you’re gasping for breath. his hands find themselves trying to undress you, but you move, stealing your gaze away from him, denying, “not today.”

“i won’t give you any more of me if we’re not going to be exclusive.” you clarify, walking past him to take a seat on the bed.

he calls out in a playful tone to confirm, “you sure, cutie?”

“pretty much.” you raise your hand into a thumbs up, then pat the space next to you, inviting him to your bed.

atsumu jumps into the bed, rocking its frame, and takes the position right next to you. he gets comfortable against your pillow, and pulls you by the waist, closer to himself. you don’t refute, you only rest your head against his shoulder, placing the cake on his lap and the chips in the little space between the two of you.

you shove two spoons into the cake, one for each of you, making sly a remark, “this is what we should’ve done last night instead of what we actually did.”

atsumu let’s out a laugh, teasing you, “but you seemed to enjoy whatever we did.”

“you wanted more and more, cutie.” he simpers, his hand placed around your waist descends to reach your butt.

before he can spank you, you warn him, “stop.”

“no funny business.” you repeat yourself loud and clear, taking a spoonful of cake and placing it right in front of his mouth for him to eat.

he accepts your offering, his hand ascends and positions itself around your waist once again. he takes a spoonful of cake by himself and swallows it up before he reaches into the bag of chips to grab a few for himself.

you sigh, disappointment tainting your voice, “it seems this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

“it seems that way.” atsumu agrees, holding out a chip for you to take. you take it, crunching it down. he offers you a spoonful of cake, you take that as well. you offer him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a little cream on his skin.

he wipes it with his hand, and you take his hand into yours, licking the cream off his fingers. you wrap your fingers around his, leaning against his shoulder comfortably.

atsumu suggests something he probably shouldn’t, considering the grim consequences spending a single night with you led to, “we should meet up for fun some times.” you choke on thin air, coughing.

you reject his idea, practically shouting at him in capital letters, “NO.”

“today, i like you. tomorrow, i might end up loving you.” you start justifying yourself at a hundred miles an hour, stuttering in the way, “while you’ll still be thinking of rin.”

“i really wouldn’t like that.” with that, you stop, take a deep breath.

atsumu nods, gabbling with cake swishing around his mouth, “understandable.” he grabs another spoonful of cake to eat. but before he can put it in his mouth, you take the spoon from his hands and eat the cake yourself, getting rid of the spoon. you take the box of cake off his lap and shove it aside.

you put yourself right on top of him, putting one of your hands on his shoulder and the other against his neck. you kiss him on his tragus first, then at the corner of his eye, then you peck his nose, place a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, and finally, you kiss his chin, nibbing at it before you pause. his hand encircles your waist, supporting you as you continue to deposit kisses over his orofacial anatomy.

you mumble to him, lips pressing against his plender gap, “we shouldn’t meet up for fun.”

you continue kissing him, ascending to pull him by his collar, whispering against his lips, “doesn’t mean we can’t have fun for the last time, pretty boy.”

your hands, with a mind of their own, quite mischievous, lower themselves to unzip his jeans. you reach into his underwear to seize a hold of his cock. while stroking his dick with your hand, you lean closer to him, kissing him on the neck before you inquire, hoping to give him an erection as your hand gently explores his dick, “you like that?”

“oh my, cutie, you really are a feast to be around, huh?” he chuckles as he smirks at you, putting his hands on your back and your neck. you let go of his cock when you feel his grip tighten, thinking you’re overdoing it. he takes the opportunity to flip you over in an instant, quite effortlessly at that, taking you by surprise. he pins your hands to the side of your head, bending over to lay a kiss on your lips.

with him on top of you, and in control, his hands pull down the straps of your sundress, revealing your brasier that’s hot pink and strapless. he doesn’t care much for the colour, but the pattern that makes it very convenient for him to slide it off you, uncovering your breasts.

atsumu dips his fingers into the cake, smearing the cream against your cleavage. he proceeds to lick it off your cleavage. you aren’t sure where this is heading, but the next thing you know, his fingers are inside the cake again. this time, the cream is rendered on your boobs, and his tongue explores every inch of your breasts in an attempt to lick it all off you, sending your brain in a haze, irking you to whimper when you feel his tongue stroking your nipples.

“say, cutie, you like that?” he questions, raising a brow, smiling coyly at you.

you nod, huffing as you feel his hands cupping your boobs, and he squeezes them. you let out a cry.

he dips his fingers into the cake again, smearing the buttercream over your lips this time. he slowly licks it off your lips. you don’t find yourself pleasured by his action, so you dip your own fingers into the cake instead, and smear it on your breasts and your pussy.

“go on.” you order, winking at him as you grab his hair and pull his face closer to your chest.

he shakes his head, chuckling, “getting freaky, are we?”

atsumu’s tongue finds itself licking the cream off your breasts yet again, making you moan each time it slides over your nipples. he shifts himself downwards, pulling the dress off you as he goes down on you, layering your body with kisses. he throws it to the side.

his teeth grip the lace of your underwear, and he pulls it off your skin, tearing the fabric in the process. dropping it to the floor, atsumu’s tongue moves over to assist your pussy to clean itself. it explores the surface of your cunt, clearing it of the cream. once he’s done cleaning your cunt, he doesn’t stop there.

he inserts his fingers inside your hole, stroking your walls very slowly and steadily, making sure your feel every motion his fingers perform. feeling his fingers manoeuvre around your cunt effortlessly incites you to cum. your cum drips down his fingers, and he removes them outside to licks it off them, sneering at you as his tongue moves up his fingers, taking in your fluid.

atsumu puts his head between your legs again, shoving his tongue into your cunt, licking around your insides to stimulate you. when you cum once again, all over his tongue, he derives pleasure swallowing what came out of your cunt.

you’re so overstimulated by the movement of his tongue and his fingers, you find yourself gripping his hair and pulling him upwards and on top of you. your hasty hands take his jeans off him, then his underwear. you grab his dick, and begin stroking your hands over it. holding it firmly, you arch your back to reach closer and kiss his cock.

with your hands all over his cock, fidgeting around, his body can’t help but feel pleasured and the next thing he knows, he’s erect. his huge, veiny dick stares you in the face, making you proud of yourself. instantly, you want it inside your pussy or inside your mouth. either will do.

it takes you a lot of strength, but you tightly clutch onto his arms and flip him over. you take a seat on his legs, simultaneously dipping your fingers into the cake. you decorate his huge dick with the buttercream, ready to pleasure him for the evening.

your hands are sticky. you find your sundress lying next to you m, and wipe your dirty hands with it. you take hold of your clutch and secure your hair into a bun, making sure it doesn’t interfere. you bend over him.

you smugly smile at him, winking as you proceed to lick the cream off his large cock, gently stroking it concomitantly. every time the tip of your tongue coasts against the length of his dick, he feels his endorphins surge, and in the end, as you’re about to wipe the last bit of cream off him, he cums on your face.

you use your hands to wipe the creamy liquid off your face and smoothly slurp if off your hands. you go ahead and lap the cum dripping down his cock, taking it inside you without hesitation. atsumu cannot hold it back anymore. he needs to be inside of you. that’s the only way this evening will feel worth. his hands grip your body and he puts you under him.

he whispers into your ear, “okay, cutie, time to have some real fun.” with that, his huge cock is thrust inside your cunt. as you take it inside, you let out a humongous wail.

while he’s moving in and out of you, his veiny dick grazing past your walls, with the release of your pleasure hormones topping the charts, you can’t help but not want this moment to end at all.

౨ৎ summary of this chapter : what a waste of a perfectly good cake.

౨ৎ god sent down a brain cell and yn received it and put it to some use, but that didn’t last long.

౨ৎ atsumu didn’t get the roses on purpose, it’s just that the shop had run out of sunflowers.

౨ৎ atsumu had truly come over with the intention of “comforting” yn.

౨ৎ atsumu and yn need to be gifted some rubber.

previous : reality check

masterlist | next : men will be men

🐰my s/o is watching greys anatomy right now and he suggested i should break atsumu’s dick so that he stops fucking around with yn. if you know the reference, you know. okay, bye.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.

because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.

and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.

anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!

i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else

i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through

and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .

but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (: