#also people are allowed to be a little frustrated before a show airs

[excitedrainbow]

so so excited for Burrow’s End and so so frustrated with the biggest parasocial fans telling anyone who was discussing what other TTRPG systems could be used that they should never question the expert GMs, please just leave us to our (loving!) conversations!

there are always going to be dickheads who talk shit and rudely tag in the people/performers they’re referring to, but most of the time any fan critique or discussion I see of D20 comes out of being big fans of both the show and TTRPGs, is super respectful, and no one is tagging in anyone involved with the show. yeah some of us get tired of how often DnD is used in the recent games, because it isn’t always the best system for the story and there LOADS of other TTRPGs that would be cool to use!

for this season, most of the discussion went DnD???? Again???? > wait it looks like there’s a bunch of combat and monsters > probably not suited for Wanderhome/other suggested TTRPGs > what other animal TTRPGs could work > Aabria is an incredible GM and she’s worked with other systems before so her choice of DnD for this story is interesting, let’s see how this works out for the story > oooh this is what Aabria has said about using DnD, ok cool, can’t wait to be emotionally hurt im so tired of seeing a loud minority of people increasingly butting in on respectful conversations to say “they like DnD! they play however they want to! they’re the performers why do you question their choices?” Or “omg how dare you have the audacity to question them” or other bullshit like that. if all you want to do is never have conversations about TTRPGs or cast/GM choices etc. and never want to hear any respectful critique or discussion then I think your fandom experience is going to be poorer, but that’s your choice. you don’t have to start shit with other people just because you can’t stand that they’re lovingly but thoroughly discussing/critiquing this form of media and not putting the cast on pedestals. parasocial attachments to vaguely famous people aren’t new things but god they are getting worse and making the experience of fandom more awful

[3cremepie3]

i couldn't find any rules so i was wondering a sebek smut fic with a male reader with the reader being a soft top. also can the kinks be praise(sebek receiving), hickies, rough, and any others you want to add.

can they also have a part with after care and when it hits morning sebek realises he is nearly late for training just for him to get up take a few steps then fall down.

also you shall call me cheese as i will be here more often

Yours

Synopsis - bottom Sebek x Male top reader ( smut + fluff 18+)

Warnings - anal sex, cum and stuff, unprotected sex, chocking, rough sex, teasing

A/n - thanks for the request this was challenging to write because I don’t write for male readers typically I hope I did well :)!!

“You good,” you asked. “Yes keep going,” he grunted. You followed his orders pushing yourself further into his warmth. You felt him clench around you once you hit the halfway mark. “Sebek you gotta relax for me okay? You’re doing so good baby.” You kissed up his neck sucking at the skin you already stained.

This served as a distraction so you could push yourself in all the way. “People are gonna see those Y/n!” He complained verbally but you knew he loved the feeling of being marked. He was possessive about the things he loved one of those being you.

“Gotta show others we’re together.” You kissed him in between talking sucking up the little amount of air he was huffing out. “I don’t want anyone stealing you from me,” you vowed. “Especially when we’re made for each other like this don’t you feel good?”

“Yes, I feel amazing.” He gasped rocking his hips back into yours. He had quickly gotten used to you remembering the shape of your cock that you had put in him many times before. “Wanna make you feel even better,” you confessed. One of your hands reached up to his nipples and the other to his cock that was spilling out his jockstrap.

You freed his dick getting a view of the pre that was smearing the fabric. You thrust into him faster watching it swing back and forth from the friction. It slapped against his abs leaving a glistening you would lick up later.

“Touch me please,” he pleaded. You did so sliding your hand on him up and down until your hand became wet. “You’re always so leaky,” you noted. “Don’t say things like that out loud it’s embarrassing.” You laughed you always loved how quiet he was compared to his normal voice that boomed over yours.

“Why don’t you speak up? No need to be quiet now no one’s here?” You watched as Sebek struggled to form even one word. His tongue was being gripped by his fangs. You couldn’t just let him be quiet when you were making so much noise it was embarrassing.

"Have nothing to say?" You questioned pausing all your movements. "Continue at once," Sebek demanded. "Only if you speak up." You looked at him while your hand glided over his tip. He was growing frustrated and attempted to move on his own. But you pulled out not allowing him to get his way.

"You humans," he huffed. You watched him gape around nothing. "Fine... please fuck me." He asked his hands cupping his face. "As you wish," You laughed. The bed creaked violently into the wall as you trusted inside of him. His hands gripped your forearms. You collapsed on top of him unlike Sebek you didn't have unlimited stamina.

"Ha pathetic human is that all you got?" Mocking me when you were just the whiny one? You alligators have such audacity," you scoffed. "Guess I gotta make you Whiny again." You tightened the grip on his hips and pulled him closer into you balls deep.

You watched his pupils dilate with the stretch. His hand went to grab your side. You swatted the weak attempt away and continued to plow into him. His ass recoiled into your hips creating a loud clapping rhythm. The sound of your love song would have a fast beat.

Sebek grabbed a pillow trying to stabilize his body. He couldn't grab you unless he wanted to end up like his very own hips brutalized. His eyes clasped themselves shut saving the tears that threatened to spill. He couldn't help but moan out as you gave him your all.

"Hurts too fast," He explained. "You like a challenge come on you can take it slut." He groaned at your harsh tongue against his nipples. He knew he was sure to be sore later as you had him folded into a mating press he would never dare to get out of.

You looked down at the sight amazed to see that he had quietly come. "I only touched you for a minute," you chuckled. "Yes, but it felt good." He basically whispers his words too ashamed to utter praise any louder. "God I love you," You sighed. Your hand went to his neck holding him in place as you rammed into that spot.

You felt his sticky cum on your stomach as you slid in and out. "So messy that's my baby." You tightened your grip on his neck. "Wanna mark you real good. How about my handprint as a temporary tattoo." Sebek couldn't answer you but you figured it out for him leaving bruising as you let yourself go inside of him.

You collapsed obviously spent from your moment of rage. You let go of his neck instantly realizing what you had done. Sebek took huge breaths trying to regain his composure. "Sorry baby oh my god," you gasped."It's just when you talk about humans something snaps in me," you explained.

"Enough if you want to make up for your erratic behavior then take care of your mess at least." Soon you and Sebek headed to your bathroom Ramshakles old school interior came in handy when it came to tubs. They were huge and could easily fit you and your muscular boyfriend.

You sat behind him admiring the mess you made of his neck. It was dark purple and red littered with hickies. "All these bite marks make me think you're secretly a vampire fae. You rubbed his shoulder blades inwards until you got to his neck. "What's your deal," he pouted. "My deal is my boyfriend that I just want to show off." Why not let everyone else know that we are not available and won't be anytime soon."

The next morning

After a relaxing evening, the both of you feel asleep like a semi-truck had hit you. In doing so you must've not set your alarms. Grim who always naturally woke up late banged your dorm practically off its hinges.

Sebek awakens in a frenzy. "Oh no I'm late for practice," he yelled. He scared your half-asleep body as he jumped out of bed just to fall to the ground. He grunted in pain holding his swollen body. You looked down a slight smirk on your face.

"I dont think you can go to practice today." And whos fault is that," he yelled.

[sempsimps]

Gregory + Cheslock x reader nail painting

So they are separate, but I wanted to paint their nails okay, so I'll do wholesome first, and I'll add a line for NSFW stuffs. All right, chill :)

Gregory-

-He loves to paint his nails it's just like normal painting, and it looks pretty, although it isn't typically for males, but he doesn't mind

-It's a good distraction when life gets too much, ya know, and he will do Cheslock's his if he asked for some help

Late in the evening, chilling in his room, talking or just sitting in silence and carefully doing his nails.

"So, how was your day"

Gregory looked up at me and sighed deeply before giving an answer.

"It was... busy"

I nodded and carefully turned his hand to get a better angle to paint his thumb.

"Yeah, you are a prefect, after all. You get a lot of ... uh sidequests"

a tilt of his head told me he thought it was an odd description but smiled a little, shaking his head. I applied the polish once. twice, three times, and then it was done. now to do the other hand, which he gave quickly. softly admiring the first set as they dried, glistening in the light, once I was done, he stared at them for a while.

"Thank you"

"Don't worry, I'm happy to do them"

I smiled and started to do my own nails to look pretty. But as I felt a hand reach out for mine, I looked up at him. He glanced away before asking.

"Could i do them for you?"

"Oh y yeah, have at it"

His touch was gentle, and he did the same treatment I did for him. He seemed to either know what he was doing or was a very fast learner. Either way, they looked immaculate by the end.

Cheslock-

-I feel like he has a little bit of anger management, and painting / picking the nail polish works to calm down. but he can't do it himself that well, so he either gets Gregory, or you to do them, it looks better, and he'll feel a little bad about ruining it, but it's better than blowing up at people.

-and if people judge, he just yells at them. idk

-He likes to rant doing it since you'll listen to him, but it's like a comfortable silence when Gregory does it. Instead, Cheslock wouldn't start the conversation unless Gregory did. idk

He sat cross-legged on the floor, one hand in your lap that was being yassified using the other hand to gesture during his new rant.

"And then he went on to say I was in the wrong! like I wasn't educated in the subject. Also, I'm a damn prefect! He shouldn't argue with me of all people!"

He gestured with his spare hand to emphasize his point, showing frustration with the student by waving it in the air and occasionally pushing it forward. As I attempted to paint his other nails, some polish smudged onto his skin. However, I chose not to say anything, as it was best to allow him to stim.

"Wow, really? and what else did he say?"

I was genuinely curious about what this ballsy person had to say. I briefly paused in the nail painting to look at him, my eyes asking for the continuation of the story.

"Oh, don't get me started, he continued to -"

He kept telling me what happened and soon had to switch hands, keeping still to let them dry. When this happened, He remained silent, smiling at the completed set, feeling both amazed and impressed at how quickly it was done despite his fidgeting. Once it was done, you started painting your own nails, not wanting to end the conversation just yet. However, then it was lights out, and you both went to your separate dorm rooms.

=====okay here's the spicy ideas i had for the same thing=====

warning

cock warming

men whimpering

Gregory is a bottom / Cheslock is a top (SEPARATED THO)

(send me feral ass outside to touch grass, or water, or fire, like anything not electronic, or in my house)

trying not to move?

doing two things at once??? I guess??

Gregory-

I was deeply focused on the hand I was painting carefully running the brush along it, but the hand I was holding suddenly flexed, and I smeared some of the nail polish onto his skin

"Hey, keep still, please,"

"mh trying"

I felt him twitch at my words. I was on top of Gregory, his member inside of my hole, with my thighs on either side of his waist. Gregory's head was lulled back on the pillows. He was biting his lips, trying his best not to move. his other hand digging into my thigh to keep him grounded. he was panting a little and occasionally let out a whimper. It was cute because I had only done three nails on one hand. and there was so much left to do. he was already this sensitive, trying his hardest not to thrust up into me. I was just finishing the fourth nail, but I leaned over to gather more polish from the bottle resting on his chest. coating the brush again, as I moved Gregory whimpered. I felt a slight shift of his cock, this made me pause and let out a shaky breath, as my hole clenched, in response to it another soft buck made the bottle of polish almost tip, and my thigh have a slight spasm. I was teasingly slow with it, but it was getting to me now, I understood why he was coming undone so fast, but I wasn't going to leave a job halfway done.

Cheslock-

it was getting hard to focus. All I could feel was Cheslock, his hands resting on my chest, and playing with my nipples. my legs were around his waist as he sat on the heel of his feet. and his cock was deeply buried inside of me, as a random roll of his hips made me lose my brain every time. his teasing laugh echoed in the room.

"Hehe, come on, don't you want to make me look pretty?"

"y yeah, just ah, it's g getting increasingly! difficult. t that's all"

I snapped back. I planned to do it, just that, but this position was making it hard. Even breathing was a challenge to do while he was being a prick and purposely making me mess it up. As I painted his nails, I couldn't help but notice my hand shaking a few times from his teasing actions, leaving accidentally smudges of black nail polish on his fingertips. Cheslock didn't say anything, but his teasing tsk tsk let me know he noticed. As I finished one hand and started on the other, Cheslock calmly took the brush from my hand, closed the polish bottle, and moved it to the side. before slamming my wrists up and rolling his whole body fully connected to mine, leaning over to kiss my lips

Okay so I hope that was ya know at least enjoyable to read I had this thought with a friend they were innocent and I was like "But hear me out sex" and so here it is look at that I also ended them both quickly I was losing some motivation but oh well (i also hope its not very obvious who I like more o_o definitely not)

[canyousonicme]

Q&A with Alex Kingston, who plays Sheila Bellowes on Steven Moffat's upcoming ITV black comedy, "Douglas Is Cancelled"

(Air date: 27 June, 2024)

What appealed to you about Douglas Is Cancelled?

I'd say what appealed first of all was that the piece was written by Steven Moffat. I would do anything that Steven wrote because he's just such a brilliant writer.

The characters he creates are such a delight to play. I've had that experience of working with him on Doctor Who. It was just a joy to read the script. I laughed out loud. I even cried with laughter in some places. It's so superbly written.

Were you also taken by the idea of playing opposite Hugh?

Absolutely. Oh my gosh, Hugh and I have worked together many times over the years. We go way back to literally when we were teenagers. And so, I was definitely attracted by the opportunity of working with Hugh again. We already have that shorthand between us. That relationship doesn't need even to be acted because we know each other so well and are so comfortable in each other's presence. It's not a new person who I've got to get to know, so that married relationship was already a given. I was thrilled to have the chance to do that.

How would you describe Sheila?

She is amoral, she is ruthless. But I'm assuming that's what the paper wants. I'm also guessing that in the world these sorts of people inhabit, in order to get a good story, they have to be prepared to throw even their best friends under the bus. To be in that position as the editor of a national newspaper, you've got to be not only incredibly ambitious, but also, I would imagine, highly-strung because you are carrying a lot of responsibility on your shoulders. It's just a joy to play somebody who's so on the front foot. Sheila is also really inappropriate. That's what's so great about the script because all the characters behave inappropriately in a world where we're supposed not to anymore. I don't feel like I'm that sort of person at all, which is why it was great fun to play!

How would you summarise the relationship between Sheila and Douglas?

I would definitely say that she wears the trousers in the household. What's so interesting is that they are this high-powered celebrity couple at the start of the story. He is the nation's favourite news broadcaster, and she's this very, very successful editor of a hugely popular newspaper. But I rather like the scene that Steven wrote for them where they are on holiday because that shows a little bit more of who they are as a family before all the stuff hits the fan. They are a unit, and they love each other. But it is an unusual marriage. She is very strong, and he just allows her to be like that. If Douglas was a similar personality to Sheila, the marriage wouldn't ever have lasted. But he just lets her sail on forward, and he's in her slipstream being dragged along.

How does Sheila get on with her daughter?

The relationship she has with her daughter Claudia is much more volatile because her daughter is actually a bit more like Sheila. She's got a bit more fight in her. In a way, Sheila is terrorised by her daughter as she can't hold her daughter down. Also, Sheila doesn't understand young people and all these words like "boomer" that drop out of their mouths. For Sheila, it's just so frustrating. She thinks, "Who is this person we brought into the world who seems like a creature from another planet?"

The drama has lots of very topical things to say about cancel culture.

Yes. It's really interesting because Steven originally conceived this as a stage play several years ago. That's what I found so brilliant and so prescient about it. Steven was working on this way before all the recent scandals involving popular broadcasters. Obviously, cancel culture was already swirling around then, but I feel like Steven has the courage to put the conversation on the table in a way that is super important. But he does it in a darkly comic way, which allows people watching to laugh, but hopefully also to be able to have conversations and ask questions such as, "Where are we going with this? And how dangerous is this becoming?"

What do you hope audiences might take away from Douglas Is Cancelled?

I hope people will be a little bit more thoughtful and a little bit more careful about how they treat people or what they say about people. We need to be more conscious and kinder and aware of other people's feelings and how they wish to be perceived in life. But I think some men of my generation struggle with having to make those changes. I certainly remember sitting in the pub as a young person and hearing jokes about women that were awful. Men would safely say horrendous stuff. But that's just how it was, and you just had to suck it up. But men cannot behave like that anymore. I think there are still elements of our generation that struggle to remember to be a little bit more thoughtful before they say something. That's not out of malice. It's because they're still trying to learn the new rules of the world.

After many years working together on Doctor Who, how did you find it being reunited with Karen?

It was a real joy. It was great just spending time with her. It was very funny because she played my mother in Doctor Who. So it was really lovely to do something different with Karen, and for us both to explore this new relationship together. In Douglas Is Cancelled, there is one big scene that we have together in the toilet. They're these two alpha females who are prowling around each other, and they both absolutely know each other's game.

Did all the cast get to hang out together on set as well?

Yes. When everybody came together for the grand finale, we ended up sitting in the studio control room between scenes, all just chatting, reminiscing, sharing, messing around. Working on Douglas Is Cancelled was just a lovely, lovely, lovely experience.

[jacksdinonuggets]

~Mother Figures~

Summary: Charlie and vaggie's mother figures look after them as they regress.

Notes: I want to write more of their mother figure's caring for them. I'll be happy to take any suggestions if you enjoyed this

The day had been pretty tough for Charlie. It was mentally straining and she needed to just relax. So she went to Vaggie. She suggested that she could regress in order to help. It took a little bit of time but soon enough, Charlie managed to slip into her headspace. Unfortunately, while playing with her, Vaggie started to get that fuzzy feeling. She knew she was bound to slip soon, which was not good. If she slipped without anyone around, they would be in serious trouble. So Vaggie took out her phone and began calling Carmine’s weaponry

“Vaggie? Is everything okay? You don’t usually call,” Carmilla answered the phone almost right away.

“N-no, Chawlie slipped and I can feel myself stawting to as well. Can you please come over?” She tried putting on the best big kid voice she could.

“Yes, I’ll be right there, sweetie,” Carmilla replied before hanging up the phone. She’s never taken care of Charlie before and Vaggie was already a pretty big handful, she would need backup. So she called one of her old friend’s to come help.

“Aunty w’osie!” Charlie cheered when the two caregivers showed up at the door. Vaggie was very clearly already regressed, rolling around on the floor. She didn’t have any of her little gear because she didn’t want to leave Charlie.

Charlie had run up to Rosie and hugged her.

“You two know each other?” Carmilla asked Rosie.

“Charlie came by cannibal town before the extermination, asking for my people. She’s a great kid,” Rosie patted Charlie’s head.

While she was keeping Charlie occupied, Carmilla went up to Vaggie’s room to grab her little’s items. Once she returned, Rosie was playing car’s with a very happy and excited Charlie in the common area. Vaggie was still on the floor, just crawling around, making grabby hands in the air. 

After Carmilla was done changing her into her padding and onesie, she carried Vaggie back to the floor of the common area.

“Can Vaggie pway with us?” Charlie asked, really wanting her playmate to join in. She was very accepting and friendly to all littles. 

Vaggie nodded but Carmilla looked a little hesitant. She didn’t want Vaggie to possibly get hurt or frustrated because she couldn’t keep up. But luckily, she seemed to play car’s just fine. She even made little ‘Vroom’ noises too. Carmilla chuckled and awed at her pure adorableness.

It was getting close to lunch time So they moved some of their toys into the kitchen so at least both caregivers were there. While they were making lunch, Charlie really wanted to help out.

“Bu’ I can help!” Charlie protested when Rosie told her no. she was currently cutting up apple slices for Charlie while Carmilla was paying attention to Vaggie. She did NOT want someone who was feeling 4 years old near a knife.

“Sorry, baby, but this is too dangerous,” Rosie replied to her whining. Charlie pouted, upset that she wasn’t allowed to help.

When she was finished with Charlie’s PB&J sandwiches shaped like a rainbows and her appleslices, she made a bottle of warm milk and stirred in some chocolate vitamin flavoring for Vaggie. she also got out some sweetened apple sauce.

Carmilla put Vaggie in her highchair once Rosie said that lunch was ready. She fed her the apple sauce and soon gave her the bottle afterwards. She was very well behaved and barely got anything on her face.

Charlie on the other hand was… a messy eater. She got peanut butter and Jelly smeared all over her face and Rosie had to clean her face off once she was done. 

Afterwards, Vaggie was clearly in need of a nap. The warm milk made her feel ‘eepy. So she took a nap in the middle of the floor in the common area. Rosie picked her up and put her on the couch and covered her with a blanket. She decided that it would probably be best if Charlie took a nap too. However, Charlie kept insisting that she wasn’t tired, even though she was rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“Bu’ I don’t need a nap! I’m a big kid!” She protested when Rosie set her down on the couch. Carmilla was just cleaning the kitchen and couldn’t help out with the tantrum.

“Yes, but Big kids need naps sometimes too. I take naps every once in a while,” she explained, trying to convince her to lay down. She tried coaxing her with her stuffed ducky but it wasn’t working.

“No!” she raised her voice.

“Vaggie is sleeping, sweetie, keep your voice down,” Rosie told her. But she didn’t listen

“I’m not taking a nap!” she screamed at her caregiver. Unfortunately, this woke Vaggie up. Waking up to screaming was definitely considered overwhelming because Vaggie began crying almost instantly.

Rosie rushed to Vaggie’s side and began to try to calm her down. Charlie realized that she had scared her friend and felt regretful. Once Rosie was done calming her down and vaggie was asleep again, Charlie apologized.

“M sorry, I’ll take a nap…” she dragged her feet as she walked over to the couch and laid down on it.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Rosie kissed her forehead and covered her body with a soft blanket.

The day went on pretty well. Since Carmilla and Rosie fell out of touch awhile ago, it was nice to catch up while caring for the two. It was cute to see their regressed practically adopted daughters. It was especially adorable to see how loyal they were even when small. They were by each other’s side almost at all times. Hopefully, Carmilla and Rosie would babysit again soon.

[makethatelevenrings]

Coexist // D. Grayson x assassin!reader

A/N: I'm alive. This is...a Lot. Maybe taking a break from writing was a mistake lol

Requested? yes but also no. I took an idea and decided to try and rival Usain Bolt with this sprint

Warnings (PLS READ FOR THIS ONE): a lotttt of introspective thoughts, existential crisis, grief, allusion to child loss, reader's past as an assassin, confusing language as a representation of the confusing and frustrating world we live in

the gif is really just bc i need something to break up the wall of text and his face is pretty

Assassin!Verse masterlist

You barely recall being awoken. On the precipice of sleep and wakefulness, you allowed yourself to reside in that quiet place. For so long you lived alert to the latent dangers of the world, but there was no prickle of anxiety on your skin this time. Not when Dick sat so closely next to you.

His hands rested, one on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. He had woken you when the sky was still dark, but the phantom calls of birds rang out amongst the stars as they searched for the coming sun. His touch was gentle, as it always was with you, and his words spoken gentler so he didn’t wake Damian who had declared himself your guardian.

The faux leather upholstery was cool against your cheek and you savored the way it soothed your burning cheeks. You don’t know when the salty tang of tears began to drip down your cheeks. Had you been crying for the whole drive? Or had the tears always been a part of you, but only now they were exposing themselves as your mask slowly chipped away?

He pulled the car into a small lot that was composed of a few concrete blocks that functioned as parking barriers and grass trampled by hundreds of feet. Dick wordlessly exited the car and took a moment to inhale before he rounded to your side and opened the door. You felt clumsy and shy, like a newborn foal trying to walk for the first time. What happened to the grace that was instilled in you? It wasn’t lost, you knew that, but today was not about who they had made you to be.

He pressed the stems of the bouquet into your hands and the presence of soft, bumpy earth bit into your skin with a mental sharpness that rivaled thorns. The sharp exhale and inhale of your breath mixed in a tentative dance with the cool air that nipped at your skin. It was bitterly cold. It was practically frozen.

It was a perfect reminder of your mortality. You loved it.

Dick walked in tandem with you. Up the lane, past the wrought iron gates that creaked in greeting, and past the weathered stones and marble blocks that showed so little of so lived a life. He faltered in his steps once you caught sight of the small stone and his hand fell from its careful place in the crook of your elbow. You surged forward and let your heart carry you with all its heaviness.

It wasn’t a conscious decision to fall to your knees and present the bundle of red and white spider lilies, but it happened and there you were. You were here and there. You were the lines of etchings engraved into stone and you were the finger touching the worn surface. Other flowers crowded you as you sank into the unfathomable realization.

Most people (you cannot bring yourself to say all because you are proof that it is not all, and you know others who struggle with this realization) only live one life. There is no guidebook that explains step by step how to proceed in this big, scary world around you. Every person from the barista at the corner coffee shop to your own mother are all experiencing the world for the first time. They are experiencing the profound joy of the simple things and the devastating loss of the greatest loves of their lives.

You are one of these people. You are not one of these people.

Before you sat an epithet to the person you were. There is no space in your mind to consider the life you might have lived if the things that happened to you hadn’t happened at all. But would that have been you? You have had these discussions with Alfred many times late at night, raving at a God who, if he exists, destined you to a life with stains of blood on your hands placed there by people who should have protected you.

The sun crests the hill and bathes the world in an unfelt warmth and it ignites the anger in your veins. How dare these people weep for a child they barely knew? You hate yourself for thinking it. How dare you grow angry at the love of a parent?

They knew you. They don’t know you.

You are two people; a ghost and a mirage kneel side by side on the frozen ground that covers an empty casket. Your name marks the stone, but it is not the name you call yourself. It does not ignite the warmth of familiarity that it does when it comes from the tongue of your found family.

You don’t know how long you stay there, grieving the loss of who you once were and coming to terms with the choice laid before you. The sun has decided to cling to you and despite the chill, you can feel the way it bites at your skin.

It is simple, the answer to your choice.

You were once a child. You are now an adult. These two things can coexist.

But you were once this child. You are now this adult.

The fabric of the small toy seated at the grave is rotten with weather and age. The plastic eyes are scratched, but they gaze up at you with a sincerity you know only in one other person’s eyes.

Dick had been here before you. He laid this small robin at the foot of your grave and you nearly weep at the sight.

Instead, you slowly pull yourself to your feet, draw yourself up high, and let who you once were lay protected and loved.

His hand enclosed around yours and you let yourself fall into the warmth of his embrace. The two of you turn your back to the past and, together, step into your choice.

To live, to love, to feel.

To exist as your own.

You were you. And now you are your own.

These two things can coexist.

Tag List:

@someoneimsure@perpetual-fangirl900@visagebrise@cursedandromedablack@alexxavicry@the-wayward-daughter@raging-trash-of-mind@khaylin27

[squoosheez]

Sweet Relief

Finnick Odair x Reader

summary: Yesterday, the reaping took place. Your name was the one picked from thousands—and it was your last year to even be eligible. Being from district four, your mentor is none other than Finnick Odair. Prince of the Capitol. Your relationship is off to a rocky start, but on your second night, he starts to come around.

setting: The 70th Hunger Games. You’re the female tribute from District 4, on your way to the Capitol with your male tribute, Caspian, and your mentor, Finnick Odair.

pairing: Finnick Odair x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, mentions of death, implied mentions of forced prostitution but not blatantly mentioned ykwim?

notes: I wrote this in two sittings and it’s not proofread and it’s also my first time posting anything on tumblr soooo…

word count: 5.2k

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socials: ao3 (that’s all I have bcuz my cc isn’t working rn 😭

Thick, humid air circulates through your enormous room. This was not what you expected when they had called your name for the reaping. You still remember it like it’s happening in the present. You find yourself laying on your memory foam bed with satin sheets—courtesy of the capitol. One thousand thoughts race through your mind as you recall the events of this evening.

To start, you almost punched your mentor in the face. You try to convince yourself he deserved it, but he was just trying to lighten up the situation and try to make you feel better. At dinner, he made a comment about the games. His words rang through your mind. “Even if you don’t win, just try not to be killed first.”

It makes your blood boil just thinking about it. You’re appalled by his insensitivity. You know those people aren’t any less smart or skilled as anyone else in that arena. Just because Finnick was the one to kill them off, doesn’t make them any weaker.

District four. Your home, family, friends, everyone you love is there. You can’t imagine not making it home to them. You also can’t believe this just had to be the last year you’re even eligible for the games. The worst luck ever. You groan as you pull the comforter over your body. One of the perks about being a tribute has got to be how well they treat you before you’re sent off to your death. You finally start to drift off into a semi-deep sleep—since real sleep is impossible—when you hear a soft knocking at your door.

You groan again before allowing the person into your room. You watch intently as the figure makes its way further and further towards your bed. You can only assume it’s an avox coming to give you a spa treatment or something else extravagant. But to your surprise, it’s your fatally charming mentor.

“What are you doing here, Finnick? Wanna piss me off some more?” You immediately bark out, not even giving him a chance to look into your eyes. This obviously makes him angry, you can see it on his face.

He bites his lip in frustration. “Listen here, little girl. You should try showing your mentor some respect for a change. I could be the very difference between life and death for you in that arena. I wouldn’t take that for granted if I were you,” his fake smile pierces through your blanket of security. He really knows how to make your spine shiver.

“Here to tell you that we’ll be arriving at 7am tomorrow morning. I suggest you be up and ready before then,” he continues. You watch as he takes a piece of fruit from your nightstand and bites into it. He gives another fake smile and walks out of your room, the automatic door sliding closed behind him. The sound of his voice makes your face grow hot in anger. It’s like everything he says is made to piss you off, but he had a good point. He’s the one who decides what gets sent out. He can help you live or let you die. Maybe you should try and get on his good side.

A good two hours fly by while you lay helplessly trying to grasp onto an ounce of sleep. It’s no use. You’re far too nervous to even close your eyes. The thought of losing everyone creeps into the back of your mind, but you deem the thought selfish. You’re not losing them, they’re losing you. More than they already have. Your mother and sister sitting at home wondering why it was you. Your best friends pondering what life will be like without you. It was your final year.

The good thing about coming from district four was that most oftenly, they were able to form alliances with the main careers, district one and two. Though, you deemed them to be quite arrogant, stuck up, obnoxious.. the list goes on. You were probably the only one in district four that doesn’t wanna prove they can win The Hunger Games.

The boy two doors down from you has been training his whole life for this moment. Technically, it’s illegal to train, but since when does anyone follow the rules when it comes to the games? The little boy whose name was picked at the reaping was only twelve. You thought that maybe they were related, but he just really wanted a chance to win. Foolish. The boy doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, you think.

When it comes to Finnick, he seems to favor you—which seems peculiar considering the fact you treat him like shit and the boy is nothing but pleasant towards him. You always assume he just acts that way towards the girls, he does seem to be a charmer. Capitol’s prince, some would call him. That warning he gave you earlier, was probably him genuinely trying to be helpful. You find that very hard to believe.

You turn on your side and click on the bedside lamp. The light brightens up the room more than a lamp probably should. The Capitol needs to stop sucking up to us, you think as you sit up and tread off to your bathroom. The bathroom is huge, a big shower that could fit any toiletries you could imagine. There’s a vanity full of makeup and hair products that you have never even seen before in your life. Red velvet robes that look incredibly soft and inviting. Last but not least, it smells of roses. The whole bathroom smells like you just walked into a florist.

You stretch and look at yourself in the huge wall mirror. You don’t look like yourself. Your features seem distorted and different. You know that you really do look the same, but you don’t feel like yourself. It’s definitely the Capitol. You turn on the water in the shower and wait for it to reach your desired temperature. You discard yourself of your clothes, realizing that you had never changed into your pajamas. When you finish undoing your hair and undressing, you step into the hot water.

Ten minutes pass and you’re rinsing some rose scented conditioner out of the ends of your hair. Everything here seems to be rose scented. Do we smell that bad? You laugh to yourself as you step out of the shower and grab onto a towel. You quickly dry off your body and hair, wrapping the towel around your hair and slipping into one of the velvet robes. Soft doesn’t even begin to describe it.

You open the door to your bedroom and begin to walk into it before you realize there’s a figure sitting on your bed. You assume it’s the boy from your district, probably couldn’t sleep either. Wants to talk strategy with you, pretend to be in love or helpless or siblings, or something even more ridiculous. To your surprise, it’s not the tribute boy at all. Quite the opposite.

You take a few steps closer, examining everything you can in the dark before you come to a conclusion. It’s Finnick. His golden-brown curls falling on his forehead paired with his sea green eyes, it’s obvious.

“What are you doing here?” You snarl, earning a laugh on his end.

“Well, you’re very welcoming,” Finnick says in return. He yawns and stretches before completely spreading himself out on your bed. “I went to check on your friend, Caspian, but he was dead asleep. Just thought I’d make sure you're sleeping.”

I knew he had a name. You roll your eyes and give Finnick an annoyed expression. “It’s impossible to sleep knowing I’m about to be sent off to my inevitable death.”

Finnick smiles. It makes you angry. He sits up to look you in the eyes. “It’s stuff like this that makes me think you really do have a chance. Definitely more than your friend down the hall, hate to say it.” He gives a fake disappointed look and it makes you chuckle to yourself.

“I’m not so sure about that,” you say. You slowly approach the bed and sit down beside Finnick despite how wrong it feels. Finnick rolls his eyes and grabs your hand.

“I think you have the drive. If you really wanted it—which you will in the arena—I definitely think you have a good chance of surviving. We’re district four. Make some allies, I know deep down you can push that cold heart and face of yours out of the way.” He gives your hand a squeeze of encouragement.

It makes you think. Just two hours ago you were sulking about losing everyone and everything, when in reality you don’t have to. You breathe out slowly, taking in everything Finnick said. He’s still there, staring at you with his green eyes. For once, his face doesn’t fill you with rage. His voice doesn’t infuriate you. He looks gentle. Compassionate. Charming. Finnick.

“Thanks,” is the only word you can mutter out. He looks at you with an endearing smile and kind eyes. You didn’t think he was capable of being nice. He looks actually sincere for once. Wow.

Finnick stands up and starts to make his way towards the door when your voice cuts through his action. “Finnick—” He turns around to face you, curiosity plastered on his face. He mumbles a quiet ‘hm?’ and you freeze. It’s like your words aren’t yours anymore.

“Will you stay?”

Finnick’s breath hitches in the back of his throat at your words. Immediately, you regret saying it. You want to hide underneath the comforter and never show your face to him ever again. Your face lights up a bright red, and you hope he doesn’t notice this.

A smirk creeps up on Finnick’s face. He doesn’t even give you a straight answer, he just climbs back into bed with you—which in most circumstances is very inappropriate for a mentor to do with a tribute. It’s fine, he’s only twenty.

Finnick wraps his arm around you, it's only then you remember you haven’t put on pajamas yet. You’re laying there in the robe from your bath, and your towel is still wrapped around your hair. You pull the towel off and let your still somewhat wet hair free to fall onto the sides of your face. Finnick looks over at you and gives your shoulder another squeeze of encouragement. Him and his squeezes of encouragement.

You reach around for the remote before finding it and turning on some show you’ve never seen before. In the districts, you only really get Capitol news. It’s definitely nice for a change. You and Finnick watch whatever drama is unfolding on the screen, holding each other as tightly as possibly.

“What’s it like?” You mutter out against Finnick’s shoulder. His head perks up as he registers what you said. He stays quiet, probably because you weren’t specific enough. “As a victor, I mean.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as if he doesn’t want to tell you. Like it’s some sort of bad news your parents tell you when you’re ten. “It’s not as great as I make it seem.”

Your eyebrows raise. He always makes it seem like he’s living the dream out here. Money, jewels, fame, glory. He has it all. What could possibly be bad about being a victor?

“I want you to win. I really do, and I think you’re very capable of doing so but..” his words catch in the back of his throat. “I don’t want you to go through what I did.”

His expression is cold. He’s not even looking at you anymore, his gaze is fixated on the screen, but you know he’s not watching. It’s like watching him hold back tears with no tears to hold back. This time you give his shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. This makes him smile softly and return his stare towards you.

“It’s wonderful.. now. I do have money and jewels, fame and glory. But nothing in life is free.” His smile fades, and he brushes a piece of your wet hair behind your ear. He is so good at keeping you oblivious. It’s frustrating.

He pulls you in closer, his grip on your shoulder tightens. Your breathing grows faster. You can hear his heart beating in his chest, and it makes yours beat even faster. His hand starts to move towards your hair. He runs his fingers through your slowly, making sure not to tug too hard. Just three hours ago, you could’ve sworn he hated your guts. What is wrong with him?

All you can do is look over at him. You realize he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t look away. The look in his eyes is something to fear, that’s for sure. He has to be zoning out.. But he’s not. He turns his body to face yours, resting his free hand on your side. You’re dumbfounded. Star struck, even. You open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. Finnick smiles and caresses your jaw with his thumb. This seems oddly intimate, and you have zero experience in being intimate.

You want to pull away. You think. You’re frozen, a slave to his touch. You want to move, but you don’t. His fingertips dance across your hips and jaw. You start to believe he’s playing a trick on you. He wants to see how far you’re willing to go. Well, you’re not a quitter. That’s for sure.

Instead of your typical surprised expression, your face morphs into a confident smirk. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, in fact it does. Before you can wipe it away, Finnick presses his lips eagerly against your own. His tongue runs over the drop of blood, tasting the metallic substance mixed with your saliva. Jesus Christ.

His hands pull your face even closer, along with your body. Your robe is becoming loose, you feel the knot slipping slowly. Your hands are entangled in his golden hair, your eyes are closed so tightly. All you can focus on is how good he’s making you feel.

This is definitely wrong on some level, but when he’s touching and kissing you in all the right places, it seems to not matter. His lips begin to move downward. He places soft kisses on your jaw and neck. Once he reaches your collarbones, the kisses get more intense. He starts sucking dark purple hickeys and leaving discreet teeth marks on your fragile skin. He’s eager, but careful. As if your body is a porcelain doll and he’s the only one allowed to hold it. He’s so gentle yet abrasive.

Your muscles tense as you feel his hands travel down your waist and resting on your hips. You know his intentions. He’s not just kissing you in your bed while practically laying on top of you for nothing. He looks up at you, his sea green eyes pleading for you.

“Can I take off your robe?” He says softly. His voice seems safe now. Not infuriating. You give him a nod, but it’s not good enough for him. “I need to hear a yes.”

“Yes,” you say. And with that, he unties your robe in one swift motion. The sides of the robe fall off onto each side of your body, completely revealing everything. Obviously, since you just got out of the shower, there was nothing else underneath. Finnick observes every inch of your body before continuing to attack your chest with kisses.

It makes you smile. He’s so eager to make you feel good, and it makes you forget how you hated him moments before this. You feel his tongue trace the shape of your breasts, slowly making its way to your nipples. You’re quickly reminded just how bare you really are when Finnick licks a stripe up your nipple, his teeth catching on the bud. Your body tenses, and a chill runs down your spine. His hands move to your lower back, making you arch for him. You notice his smile at your helplessness.

You squeeze your legs together in a desperate attempt for any sort of relief. Your mouth drapes open as Finnick continues to tease you. Kissing everywhere, touching everywhere except the place you desire it most. Back to frustrating. You pull his head up by his hair to look him in the eyes. You’re pretty much begging with the look you’re giving, but Finnick still doesn’t think it’s enough.

He places another gentle kiss on your upper thigh, leaving his tongue to linger slightly longer. “Is there something you want, honey?” His voice was condescending yet so sweet to hear.

His words make you squirm, but the grip he has on your hips prevents you from going very far. You attempt to speak but all that escapes is a strangled moan you didn’t know was lurking in your throat. Finnick chuckles against your abdomen, causing your muscles to tense up. You realize quickly that he’s not going to resume his work until you give him an answer.

You roll your eyes at him to hide your embarrassment, like usual. He knows exactly what you want him to do. He knows exactly where you want to be touched. He just wants to hear you say it. “I wanna feel you, Finnick.”

Not good enough. He immediately refutes your statement.

“What do you want to feel, baby?” He places another kiss on your inner thigh. You can feel the throbbing sensation between your legs grow even more prominent when he calls you ‘baby.’ You can’t even form words; he just laughs at your struggling attempt.

“What about..” he begins. His fingers trail down the sides of your waist and stop at your hips. His calloused hands move forward to the front of your thighs, giving them a squeeze for good measure. “My tongue? You seem to be enjoying that so far.”

Fuck yes.

You throw your head back at the proposal. You would be laughing like a maniac if it weren’t for your inability to form words, which once again is not going too great for you. Finnick awaits an answer and the only thing coming out of your mouth is drool and moans.

Luckily, he starts to ease up on you. His hands find their way to your knees, spreading your legs apart as far as you’ll allow him. You feel so exposed in the best way possible. Finnick continues to leave sweet kisses on your inner thighs, teasing you on and on. You physically cannot take it anymore.

You grab Finnick by his hair, once again, and yank him forward. “If you don’t eat me out right now, you may never get the chance to. I would make your choice wisely and quickly.”

His eyes widen at your words, clearly surprised, but not unhappy. His sly smile creeps back onto his face as he licks a stripe between your folds. Your back immediately arches against his tongue. He takes the opportunity to grab the back of your thighs, allowing himself full control of your position.

You don’t resist whatsoever. As soon as his tongue is back inside you, tracing circles around your clit, everything fades away. He flicks his tongue over the same spot and a sharp moan echoes through the room. You come to the conclusion that it’s from you. Finnick chuckles softly. The cool air against your wet heat just makes you feel like you’re floating. And if he can’t tell how much you’re enjoying this by your body’s reaction, he can tell by the look on your face.

Finnick’s tongue continues to work its magic as your hands flail around for something to hold onto it. They end up grabbing onto the pillow and you’re surprised the whole train car can’t hear how loud you’re being. You swear no one else could make you feel this way. His tongue knows exactly where to go and what to do. You feel his hand move closer to your heat and it drives you crazy. His thumb moves slowly towards your clit, rubbing soft circles on it. Meanwhile, his tongue is prodding at your entrance. A loud moan escapes your lips as you attempt to focus on one thing at a time.

“Finn..” you whimper out. He pulls away from in between your legs, a mixture of juices dripping down his chin. He looks up at you, his chest heaving. He looks so good. Something about him looking so fucked out just manages to turn you on. “You look so fucking hot.”

A smile creeps up on his face at your words. He licks his lips and climbs up to meet your face. He places a soft kiss on your lips as a ‘thank you.’ You smile back and take the opportunity to give the obvious bulge in his pants a gentle squeeze. A groan leaves Finnick’s mouth and his hand makes its way back down to your pussy. He slips a finger in between your lips, flicking it over your clit again. Now you’re even.

You squeeze your legs together, making the pressure ten times more intense. You let out a soft whimper that seems to just push Finnick over the edge. He immediately pulls down his grey sweats, revealing his erection underneath a pair of black boxer briefs. You don’t even have to look twice to determine that’s gonna hurt.

You sit up and cross your legs to be face to face with him. You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair trying to determine what he wants to do next. His eyes flick back and forth between you and his dick before coming to a consensus.

“On your knees,” he smiles. You quickly scurry off the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You pull your hair into a tight ponytail and wetten your mouth, a smirk plastering your face. You allow him to pull down his boxers, his erection springing up towards his abdomen. The sight makes you ten times wetter.

You take Finnick’s cock into your hand, giving it a few strokes as beads of precum run down your hand. You can feel him throb in your hand and it makes you let out a small chuckle. He laughs too, not really understanding why.

You give the head a small kitten lick and watch as his face scrunches up in pleasure. You take the tip entirely into your mouth and Finnick lets out a loud groan. His hips begin to move slowly into your mouth. He makes sure not to go too fast or deep in case you can’t take it. You take at least two more inches to assure him you can.

You continue to bob your head up and down as his hips fuck the back of your throat. Whatever you can’t fit in your mouth, you stroke eagerly with the hand that’s not grabbing onto Finnick’s thigh.

Tears well up in your eyes and drool drips down your mouth as he fucks deeper into it. His little groans and whimpers are all the encouragement you need. You just sit back and let him have his way with you, every now and then you hum, sending the most pleasurable vibrations through his body.

You can feel his climax near when his hips start to stutter and his movements become faster and more desperate. You move your hands to rest on his chest, rolling his nipples in between your fingers. This throws him completely over the edge, because quickly after, he’s cumming down your throat. You take him out of your mouth and swallow what’s left of his cum before standing up to give him a sweaty, teary, drooly, cummy kiss. His tongue explores your mouth tasting what remains of his cum and you can see a string of your saliva when the kiss is over.

Despite your incredible blowjob skills, he’s still eager to make you feel as amazing as he possibly can. He moves his hands down to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze of encouragement. You giggle and fall back onto the bed. The satin sheets feel so good underneath your hot skin, and Finnick looks so inviting.

You close your eyes and suddenly he’s gone. You search around for a moment until realizing he’s gone to get condoms. Smart man. Not giving me a choice. When he comes back, he slips on the condom with ease and gives his hand a small squirt of lubricant.

“Don’t think I’ll need much,” he says smirking. “You’re already soaking wet for me. Yes?”

You feel yourself throb in between your legs at his words. He is seriously driving you insane. You watch as he coats his cock with the lubricant and gives himself a couple lazy strokes.

You can’t even think of a response, so instead you just pull him down to kiss you. After a few moments you break the kiss. “Finnick..”

“Don’t wear it out,” he speaks slowly. You just can��t take your eyes off of how big he is. “You’ll be screaming it in a minute.”

You smile at his cocky response. You feel him line-up with your entrance. One of your hands is resting on his bicep, the other is tracing circles on your clit. You let out a soft moan as you feel his tip slowly slipping into you. You don’t understand how he could be this slow. He wants this just as bad as you do, why is he being such a tease?

Instead of pushing deeper, Finnick decides to just use the tip for now. You’re squirming and writhing underneath him, desperate for something more. Every time you look at his face, he looks like he’s in heaven. Finally, he slowly slides more into you. You can feel every vein pulsating inside you. It makes you clench around him, which earns a very strong moan from Finnick’s mouth.

Your thoughts are being clouded with Finnick. Every touch he makes, every breath he breathes. Everything is Finnick. He’s murmuring something under his breath, but you have zero clue what. Probably something along the lines of ‘you’re so fucking hot,’ or ‘I’ve been waiting so long for this.’

You watch as beads of sweat drip off his forehead and onto your stomach. You realize very quickly why he wanted to take it slow. As soon as he tries to push completely into you, he bottoms out. You tense up, surprised by the feeling. Finnick looks at you and back down at his dick once again. By the look on his face, you can tell he is not all the way in.

“Fuck, Finnick. I didn’t realize you were that big!” You groan partially in frustration and partially in pleasure as he rolls his hips in a circular motion. He just smirks in response. Despite the little bump in the road, Finnick continues his shallow thrusts. He’s more careful now, he doesn't want to hurt you and now it’s become very easy to do so. You let out a loud whimper at his movements, angled to hit your g-spot with every little movement. Unfortunately for you, he’s still taking his sweet time.

He can sense your neediness. It’s driving him crazy. He starts to move slightly faster, but he’s still trying to savor the moment. Your back arches whenever he hits your sweet spot, which is pretty often. Your legs start to shake from using them to keep yourself up. Finnick notices and immediately pulls out and picks you up. This takes you by surprise and you flush a bright pink color.

“I wanna make sure you’re comfortable, how do you wanna lay?” His voice is soft and sweet. It’s crazy how fast his tone can switch between dominant and demanding to soft and caring.

You bite your lip and wrap your arms around his neck. “Can I ride you?”

That’s not the answer Finnick was expecting. He nods eagerly and flips the two of you around. Now he’s laying on the bed, and you're sitting on top of him. You line him up with your hole and sink down slowly onto him once again. Once he bottoms out, you start to move your hips in a circle. Finnick’s hands fly to your waist, guiding your movement. He watches as you ride him, tits bouncing directly in his face. He is surely the luckiest man alive.

His groans grow louder and more frequent, and your movements become faster and harder. His hands move to cup your ass, giving it a couple slaps as you bounce on his cock. You clench around him every time and it makes him so horny it hurts.

Finnick flips you over once more, wrapping your legs around his neck. His thrusts are much more powerful now. They’re aiming to hit your spot and it’s so good. His hands are fondling with your tits, pinching your nipples as his thrusts grow faster. His other hand is fixated on your clit, rubbing it just hard enough to make your back arch and leave scratch marks on Finnick’s biceps.

You can hear his breath faltering and his thrusts become sloppy. He’s whispering words to you, but you can’t quite comprehend exactly what he’s saying. Loud moans are leaving your mouth, but you can’t hear anything besides the slaps of your ass against Finnick’s hips, and his groans.

You feel his hand get faster, giving your clit just the right amount of attention it needs to feel your climax bubbling up in your lower stomach. You clench around him in response, and that’s what pushes him over the edge.

He pounds into you relentlessly, hitting your g-spot over and over again until you can’t take it. Your moans have become broken cries as tears flow from your eyes. The only words you can form are ‘Finnick’ and ‘faster.’ It doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach its peak. Your body tightens completely, causing Finnick to release with you. He cums with a loud moan, even though your senses are still clouded from seeing stars, you can assume it was probably a drawn out ‘fuck.’

You pull him closer as his body collapses into yours. You give him another kiss before pulling the used condom off of him and tossing it into the trash bin. He gives you a weak smile as he breathes in your scent.

“You were amazing,” he mumbles against the crook of your neck. You pull the comforter over the two of you and close your eyes.

“You were perfect,” you respond smiling. He gives you another kiss on the cheek since he can’t stand not having his lips on you. The reality of your situation sets in very quickly. You’re about to be in the Hunger Games and you’ve just accidentally fucked your mentor. Accidentally may be a stretch.

You look over at Finnick, somehow putting your emotions aside. You give him a sad smile and place a soft kiss directly onto his lips. It confuses him, but he doesn’t question it. You’re clearly in a vulnerable state and he doesn’t want to pry too much.

You look into his eyes for far too long. The beautiful sea-green color that completely encapsulates the beauty of the ocean. You realize far too late how you really feel about Finnick Odair. The worst part is…

The clock just struck seven.

[dazed-diary]

a/n: just a little something because i've been feeling quite winter-y lately (and I also felt like maybe posting after almost an entire year of absolutely nothing would be kinda cool too ig lol)

bkg x gn!reader - wc: .7k

warnings: it's katsuki so swearing lol u know the drill

katsuki is so cute bundled up in his winter clothes. 

you’re also pretty sure he doesn’t realize it. the way his thick woolly scarf comes up to his red nose, the fabric almost covering it fully as he sniffles occasionally, its color nicely complimenting the shine of his eyes. 

he looks quite grumpy in that state, usually preferring warmth over the cold because of his quirk, but somehow his scrunched-up face even adds to his cuteness, you think. 

red eyes move from the scenery to you, narrowing as he huffs out a breath that materializes in a white cloud in front of him. 

“what.” 

you realize you must have been staring and break out into a grin. “nothing,” you say and bury your hands deeper into the pockets of your jacket as you tear your eyes away, looking over the scenery instead and feigning innocence. 

katsuki huffs out a breath of frustration and takes a step towards you. “do i got something on my face, or what?” 

you really have to bite back your laugh now, averting your gaze so he doesn’t catch the way the corners of your mouth quirk upwards. “nope,” you pop the p as you turn away from him. 

“oi, what the fuck is it.” 

his question sounds like more of a demand, the words are almost growled now as he tries to keep his voice down as if you two aren’t the only people on this snowy hill outside the city right now. 

you know there’s no actual bite behind his words and the reason behind his agitation is merely his impatience and curiosity - which of course he would never admit to out loud, but you know him, and so you allow yourself to enjoy your little game for a moment longer, before you suddenly turn around to him and look him in the eyes. 

“you’re just so pretty, katsuki!” you finally answer him, then, and watch in amusement as his eyes widen and his face turns red, before his eyebrows furrow and he takes a startled step back. 

“what-“ he looks as if he’s seen a ghost, but composes himself quickly, avoiding eye contact. “oh, shut up.” 

you laugh as he grumbles something unintelligible, the blush on his cheeks showing no sign of disappearing. 

“what was that?” you ask, stepping closer and raising a hand to cup over your ear. 

suddenly, he spins around and leans forward until his face is so close you can practically feel the heat radiating off of him, taking you by surprise. 

“i said,” his voice is low, and as he exhales, his breath is forming a tiny cloud again, the air hot on your face, “you’re an idiot.” 

you’re frozen in place, only able to watch as he spins around again and starts walking down the hill the way you came. you’re sure that by now, your own face must be at least as red as his, if not even more. 

halfway down, katsuki stops and turns around, looking at you with a neutral expression. “you comin’?” he yells, seemingly impatient because you’re just standing there, but you know better. 

his mask of nonchalance is good, but even from where you’re standing, you can see the way his eyes are still focused on your face, studying your flustered expression, a tiny smirk threatening to stretch over his lips.  

the discovery pulls you out of your stupor, brow furrowing as you jog in his direction to catch up. “that little asshole,” you mutter to yourself, your own smile playing on your lips as you shake your head.

when you catch up to him, katsuki has a shit-eating grin on his face and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes at him. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks with that false concern, barely bothering to hide his teasing tone. 

“nothing,” you laugh as you jokingly elbow him. he elbows back, although softly, and it makes a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your chest that drowns out the cold. in that moment, tiny, white snowflakes start falling from the sky, landing softly on the ground, the branches, and in katsuki’s hair. 

“look, it’s snowing!” you take in the sight around you with a grin. 

“yeah, i noticed,” katsuki grumbles, narrowing his eyes as he looks up. 

you don’t think he realizes the way he buries his face further into his scarf, and it makes you laugh. 

“what?” he asks gruffly, focusing his gaze back onto you. 

“nothing,” you grin at him and take his gloved hand into yours. “let’s go home.” 

he looks at you, an indecipherable expression on his face and for a moment, you’re unable to look away. 

“yeah,” he says then, squeezing your hand. “let’s.”

[pinenutposts]

I am old enough to have watched Twin Peaks on tv in its original run (I was a child, mind you, but I did catch a few episodes of season 2 while my mom and stepdad were watching it.) I didn't see the entire series until it was re-aired on Bravo when I was in high school. I also read the Secret Diary of Laura Palmer by Jennifer Lynch (very eye opening for a relatively sheltered girl like me, and also crucial to understanding the show from Laura's perspective, before FWWM existed). I subscribed to the legendary fanzine Wrapped in Plastic by Craig Miller and John Thorne, through my local comic book store. I read alt.tv.twinpeaks. I read theories and news on websites like Glastonberry Grove and Mike Dunn's Lynchnet. I asked my dad to buy me the book of essays "Critical Approaches to Twin Peaks" from Wayne State University Press, and was introduced to things like Foucault, Critical Theory, and Feminist Theory, while my little teenage brain was just entering college and starting to work out what "critical thinking" even was. I obsessed over David Lynch and his art.

Why I mention all this, is that I think having been this type of fan for my entire adult life, and my formative teenage years, I'm able to hold several different and sometimes contradictory opinions about Twin Peaks and its creators, and more importantly, I'm able to enjoy wildly varied aspects of the show and fandom, all at the same time!

When I first saw The Return in 2017, it absolutely repulsed me. I hated it. Then last year I picked up "Ominous Woosh - A Wandering Mind Returns to Twin Peaks," by John Thorne, the only currently living editor of Wrapped in Plastic, and it opened my mind to understanding The Return in a way that I wasn't able to before. I'm not saying it's the definitive explanation (and he certainly does not claim that), but it helped me see it in a way that I just couldn't before, and even begin to enjoy it. There are still parts of it I deeply dislike (just like there are parts of the original series I deeply dislike), but that's okay. Twin Peaks is not a one size fits all. It can be approached from many different viewpoints and readings, and as David Lynch has said about all of his work, everyone will have a different experience of it based on their own experience and perspective. My views of Twin Peaks, including who I ship and don't ship, have certainly changed over the course of three decades!

I would like to encourage people who become frustrated and disappointed at the turns the show takes, and how the third season feels vastly different from what came before, to consider the history of the show. What happened with the network, the actors, Lynch's movie career, when it was made, why it ended when it did. And of course The Return doesn't look or feel like a show made in 1990! It's 25 years later! Lynch and Frost are old men now! Half the cast is dead! It would be absurd if it seamlessly picked up where season 2 (which was a jumbled, but still lovable mess, itself) left off. There's no way it could.

If season 3 had been allowed to be made as originally planned in the '90s, it would look vastly different than The Return. I will forever mourn what could have been, but that's the stuff of fanfiction now. Also, we may not have gotten the masterpiece that is Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, which I consider to be the creative and emotional pinnacle of the series, and absolutely critical to having a full picture of what Twin Peaks is about, if the show had continued. Just food for thought.

I'm also an advocate of simply ignoring things if you really don't like them. There's no reason one has to accept The Return, or even parts of season 2 as part of your own personal headcanon. As the creators will say, there really is no definitive "canon" in the Twin Peaks universe!

I don't really know what the purpose of this ramble was, but I felt like going on about it because Twin Peaks has been my "favorite song" for years, and I'm always thinking about it in one way or another ^_^

- Pine Nut

[buckybarnesss]

("of course he was hesitant to break up with her again because the last time he saw her before she got amnesia she stormed into his work place, kicked his desk into a wall, yelled that he betrayed her not allowing him to explain and they had fought multiple times before that. the relationship was toxic and he was very clearly scared of her reaction and that she would lash out at him")

good to know that you think that korra is an abuser who has power over mako in the relationship and mako is the victim who is afraid of her.

ah. i knew i was going to get an anon like this when i made that post. this fandom is so fucking predicable.

i never called korra an abuser in did i? no. you came into my inbox accusing me of using words i didn't say but since you wanna get into this discussion.

season 2 korra is the worst version of her. she is down right insufferable at times. she's hot headed, impatient and tempestuous with seemingly little emotional regulation. her behavior towards nearly everyone is immature.

this is a direct result of korra's insular upbringing which is she is not at fault for and is part of the reason she's so incredibly angry in season 2. she is totally justified in her anger over it, actually. it left her not just ignorant of the world to a large degree but underprepared for the more social aspects of being the avatar. truly the white lotus fucked up.

while korra's anger and frustrations are understandable and even relatable it does not make it okay for her to take them out on mako.

it's so odd because people will hate korra for these very things but offer her grace in how she treats mako. yet mako is rarely afforded any grace at all by the same people. in fandom i often see all the blame placed entirely on mako's shoulders. either you think korra is an equal partner in the relationship or you don't.

they're both maladjusted teenagers and it's their first real serious romantic relationship. they're both stubborn and their tempers flare. korra repeatedly seeks advice from mako and dismisses whatever he says. he tries to be protective when that's definitely a misstep as it comes across as paternalistic to korra when for mako it's a way he shows his care and love for someone.

that said, understanding why korra behaves the way she does it still doesn't make it okay how she treats her boyfriend.

it is unacceptable that she stormed into his place of work, yelled at him in front of his coworkers and kicks his desk into a wall. she is in the wrong for this.

i promise it's okay to call korra out on her bad behavior.

does it make her abusive? in the moment? yes.

look, this is a cartoon. a more mature one for sure and still imparts valuable lessons but like i don't think korra has a pattern of long term abusive behavior and she does learn and grow from this. both her and mako move beyond this, forgive each other for their bullshit and become good friends. it's fandom that continues to hold a grudge against mako.

korra's mistreatment of mako is also side by side in this particular season with the blatantly abusive relationship bolin is trapped in with eska and the comment lin made that implies she fucked up air temple island after she and tenzin broke up.

the eska/bolin relationship and lin's comment are played for laughs and mako in later seasons is made fun of for his ineptitude in his relationships with asami and korra.

all of these decisions were made by the writers and they are fucked for that in my opinion.

the incident at the police station makes mako uncomfortable in their next encounter when he discovers she doesn't even remember they broke up. mind you when he does meet korra again there's a very deliberate moment of her firebending at a dummy whose straw head lands at his feet.

mako's reaction is understandable. he doesn't want to embarrass korra in front of everyone and he's concerned about her reaction to the news they broke up considering her behavior towards him previously. he is somewhat scared of korra here. i think we can acknowledge that.

he knew he fucked up though and he does apologize for it.

now to address the other thing.

korra has more social power than mako. she is the avatar and the daughter of a southern water tribe chieftain. she has all the advantage and privilege over him.

in fact, the entirety of season 2 is mako essentially having less social capital and privilege than those around him and it lands his ass in jail after being framed for the cultural center bombing because he stepped on the wrong toes

make no mistake korra, varrick, asami and lin have more social capital and power over mako than he does over them.

i guess we're not supposed to acknowledge that though.

[hamsamwich23]

How to handle the Outbreak of the Un-Named Virus.

Want to know if you or a friend/loved one has caught the outbreaking virus? Be sure to read up on the process of the infection! If you or anyone close to you is showing any signs, quarantine yourself immediately.

Keep in mind that the virus can be transmitted through the following:

deep bites that have broken through the skin,breathing in the wrong air, sneezing and coughing(germs), physical contact, and/or consuming the flesh of an infected person's corpse.

ALL STAGES OF THE VIRUS ARE CONTAGIOUS.

It is important to quarantine and stay indoors as much as possible during this virus outbreak, if it is necessary to go outside, wear a mask and protective clothing, and bring something with you in case you are found in a situation that requires self defense.

To know whether you or someone else is infected, look out for the following stages....

Tw for: emetophobia, body horror, self harm, death, thoughts of unaliving, implied animal death, and potentially more

Stage 1:

The first stage will seem like the infected has a mild cold or flu. The newly infected will become ill with the following symptoms.

Sneezing

Coughing

Headaches

Fevers and chills

Mild Nausea

Congestion

Sore/itchy throat

Mild body pain

The infected will start showing these symptoms within 15 minutes-3 days, depending on how they caught the virus.

Stage 2:

The stage 1 symptoms become worse, causing the infected person(s) to become violently ill as well as making it very hard to find the energy to move. Stage 2 infected will most likely remain in bed for the majority of the stage. Symptoms include:

Vomiting/heavy nausea

little ability to move (some infected have described the feeling to be like "as if someone was painfully holding them down in place")

loss of appetite

insomnia or oversleeping

throbbing headaches (described as "worse than migraines")

random bruising on the body

Stage 2 can last up to 2-3 weeks before rapidly throwing the infected into the next stage...

Stage 3:

The infected in this stage will suddenly be filled with energy while they are still sick. Their bodies become covered in bruises and small specks of mold begin to form. They have an unpleasant odor. Other symptoms include:

Random fits of happy and sad hysteria

unpleasant mud-like odor that doesn't seem to go away (no matter how much you shower or bathe)

Rapid on and off bursts of energy

Visible and Auditory hallucinations

Bruises and mold spots forming on the body overtime, as if the body is rotting

heavy chest pain

Flesh is beginning to peel and/or "melt" off.

Heightened Paranoia and/or a feeling some described as "A mid life crisis"

Eyes begin to become more "empty" (faded pupils and irises)

It is recommended that in this stage, you say your final goodbyes. Regardless of whether or not you are the infected.

Stage 4:

Stage four is described to be "the most horrifying" out of the five. The infected is no longer energetic and hyper, those feelings are replaced with terror and anger as their pain and suffering get worse. In addition to physical pain and mental torment, the infected is also battling against themselves, trying to stay awake as they fall in and out of consciousness. Symptoms:

More vivid visual and auditory hallucinations that the infected will try to physically or verbally fight.

Harming oneself out of fear and/or frustration (or trying to cause themselves pain to stay conscious)

Seemingly going in and out of "reality", On and off consciousness.

body is slowly beginning to mutate or change (painfully)

bleeding from the eyes, nose and/or ears.

Hair loss or hair growth

Heavy feelings and thoughts about taking ones life to end the suffering or to "stop" the infection from taking them or infecting others around them.

It is important to remember that in this stage, the infected will begin to bite people when they aren't conscious of their selves. If one wishes to kill an infected, it is best to do it in this stage, or allow the infected to end their own life, due to the last stage making the infected harder to kill....

Stage 5 (Final Stage):

Infected has reached the final stage of the virus. They no longer have any consciousness, and have "lost themselves". They are mindless and vicious and see everyone as either an enemy or prey. They actively try to bite and kill anyone who appears to be too close. Their bodies are constantly mutating into inhuman shapes. The process is bloody, the pain is agonizing, and none of it will end until the virus finally kills them from the inside out.

When an infected finally dies, the body will stop moving and begin to decompose rapidly, leaving acid and body parts as the only indication of their existence. However, Only 70% of infected seem to die....

Tips for the virus, quarantining, dealing with infected, and more:

always wear a mask around other people, even if you're inside your home (There is an exception if you live on your own)

If someone in your home is infected and being quarantined, it is advised to say your final goodbyes to them and avoid them at all costs, since as of right now, no cure exists, and the virus is fatal.

if an infected person asks to stay with you or enter your home, do NOT let them in. Even if they are only at the beginning of stage 1. Your safety is more important.

Keep your doors and windows locked at all times, keep the blinds and curtains closed.

If you are in a heavy populated area, try to evacuate and find shelter somewhere more secluded. if you are unable too, consider setting up more traps and security measures.

it is better to starve to death than to eat the flesh of the infected.

For more information and tips, visit our website or text/call our number.

Do not try to kill an infected unless it is out of self-defense.

Animals can also get infected. Their process is much faster and is similar to sickness and rabies. The virus has a 85% chance of killing a fully infected animal.

The government will be required and made to send out food and supplies to everyone once a week. Stay safe. Stay inside.

May all of this end and let us return to our everyday lives.

[billpottsismygf]

I've been stewing a little over the last few days about the news regarding the Doctor Who airing times and, although there's been a lot of discourse and probably everything has been said already, I just need to get my rant out there anyway.

For the uninitiated or the unsure, the brief rundown is that new episodes will drop online at the same time worldwide before the BBC 1 broadcast. This will be Fridays 7pm US time (EST I think) and Saturdays midnight in the UK. There will also be the usual Saturday evening broadcast on BBC 1, 18 or 19 hours later. Also, the premiere (10th/11th May) will drop the first two episodes of the series at once.

Simultaneous broadcast is pretty cool, and I believe the 60th specials dropped at the same time as the UK evening broadcast, giving an afternoon time for the US. That's great, but it's really messing with me that this new system completely shafts the UK in terms of viewing times. I'm not saying that only the UK has passionate fans, but I am saying that the UK is where Doctor Who is a cultural institution more so than anywhere else in the world, and seeing it prioritise the US is incredibly frustrating.

Moving to the specific fallout, there's the part of me that is upset on my own behalf, as my autistic self is really struggling with the notion that to watch the show ASAP I will now have to do so at midnight (on a Friday night too!). Since I was 9 in 2005, I have only twice gone to bed with a new episode unwatched. Occasionally that has been at stupid times in the early morning because I've been doing things for Saturday night, but generally I have watched the broadcast as much as possible, and often with other people as a community event. As a child it was always with my dad; as an adult it's often with friends!

Ultimately, though, I'll be fine. I'll watch by myself on iplayer at midnight because I am an adult who can make these choices, even if I'm sad that I probably won't get to have the viewing parties I had started to have with friends in recent years. (Though, who knows, we all have weird sleep schedules. Maybe midnight viewing parties are still on the cards.)

However, for all the kids out there I am so incredibly annoyed. I can't imagine if any of the iconic episodes from my childhood had aired the night before and I'd been unable to stay up for them. Blink? The Stolen Earth? Doomsday? I don't wish to overstate the matter, but I truly believe Doctor Who has remained such a cultural institution precisely because of its status as a family show. People are raised on it and then raise their kids on it and so on.

What are kids going to do now? Some might be allowed to stay up for the midnight release, though not many, especially for that double release which will end at like 1:30am. Others might watch it when they get up, but likely without the community aspect of the whole family sitting down for it. Still others might wait for the Saturday evening broadcast, having to dodge spoilers from other kids and adults as they go about whatever Saturday activities they have.

Regarding spoilers, I've seen some snarky comments saying 'just avoid social media lol', but firstly that's quite difficult in this day and age, and secondly it's not just social media. For one, there are all the tabloids that will plaster any new details across the front page, but also I can vividly remember talking about the brand new Doctor Who episodes at school, and how big an aspect that was of the community excitement. My teacher even did an impression of a weeping angel the week Blink aired, moving closer with a scary face when I looked away for a moment. Sure, there won't be school on a Saturday, but plenty of kids will be doing activities with other kids (dance classes, football, drama clubs etc.). What will happen when some kids have been allowed to watch the new episode and others haven't?

It may seem trivial to some, but I don't think it is. Where's the event aspect of it? Where's the community? Sure, I'm biased as an autistic Brit who grew up with the show and doesn't like change, but this new model seems designed to dilute both the excitement and importance of a new Doctor Who episode on a cultural level.

[innocentimouto]

So how exactly would you have rewritten Hama?

This would depend on how the rest of the Water Tribes were written, as well as the Fire Nation. Also Katara and swt bending culture.

My issue with Hama is that we didn't get a lot of development on the Water Tribes and the few characters we got were either boring or distasteful. Also Katara's connection to her culture is finally acknowledged only for it to turn dark.

If the Water Tribes were developed, and more Fire Nation victims were allowed to be angry without being painted as extremists or needing to learn some lesson of peace, and the season depicted many of the atrocious actions of the Fire Nation, and we got to explore the Southern Water Tribe, or simply the lack thereof in terms of bending knowledge, then I wouldn't be so opposed to Hama's depiction.

But I don't think she should be handed over to Fire Nation authorities in any situation. Even if she was out torturing them.

Basically Hama's writing is distasteful to me not only because of how it was written, but also because of all the writing before it.

It would be more interesting to see her target actual soldiers. Maybe destroy factories or damage warships. Have Hama depicted as weary and grieved that she can never return home. Because home for her is gone. Even if she manages the very dangerous and long journey of returning home, her home was invaded again and again. She lost so many of her people. Going back to the Southern Water Tribe is like standing in plain sight to the enemy and openly inviting them to wipe them out.

Show how difficult and terrifying it is to live amongst people who want you killed. How every little action you do is followed by fear it may get you caught. How frustrating it must be that you can't follow your people's way of doing things and it's like losing a part of your identity.

Have her maybe have some questionable actions or beliefs and have Katara bring her hope for the future. Expand on Katara and Sokka's own loss. Add in Aang's responsibility of keeping airbending and Air Nomad culture alive. Show Katara's eagerness to learn a lost part of her culture and her grief and anger at the Fire Nation for stealing this from them.

Explore what the Southern Water Tribe has lost. Maybe even what the Fire Nation teaches in schools. Again, Air Nomads too.

They are so many parallels to Aang and Katara in terms of their bending and people that it's such a shame the show didn't explore this.

Include her in the final battle even! So many other Fire Nation characters got redeemed. She doesn't have to be morally perfect or buddies with the Gaang. She can still be morally gray and allowed to be in the story.

[forestmvtt]

the start of Lance’s confession

-

“Having fun down there?” Keith finally asked after I’d settled my head on his chest.

“Shut up,” I let out with a grumble, closing my eyes and rubbing my cold feet together.

I’d travelled all the way to his room without any socks or shoes on– don’t ask my why I just forgot, and in turn my feet froze. I actually did it a lot, probably every time I spent the night with Keith.

“You smell nice, did you shower?” He asked again, turning a little bit so that we were cuddling more so than me just laying on him.

“Yeah,” I let out quietly, wanting to sleep.

“When? I thought you left dinner when me, Shiro and Hunk did?” Keith’s tone showed genuine confusion, which I was tired so I grumbled again before covering his mouth with my hand.

“Shut up,” I spoke softly, “I’m tired.”

I could feel him roll his eyes and huff before licking my hand to get me to pull away. I didn’t though. Instead when he licked my hand my eyebrows raised and I sat up just enough to see his face.

He looked so pretty tonigh– pretty-? Keith-? Keith wasn’t pretty- Allura was pretty, Keith was more of a handsome beaten messy college kid. How could I think he was pretty? I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at myself. Eventually he let out a few muffled groans bringing me back to his attention.

A smirk covered my face as I quickly changed the way my hand sat so I was covering both his mouth and his nose so he couldn’t breathe.

Keith’s eyes got wide, his left eye twitching a little bit at my motion. I chuckled as he did, “What? Scared?” I smirked again at my words knowing he wouldn’t be able to respond.

Air pushed past my fingers as he breathed out but I could see him struggle to bring air back in.

I wanted to see his face– something I wasn’t often allowed to do unless he was sleeping and if Keith was asleep so was I. His hair looked kind of messy, like he needed a shower too but would refuse until I prompted to stop sleeping in his bed. Which was an odd thing that it actually worked with him but maybe it wasn’t. A month ago we had decided to stop being so dumb around each other, finally agreeing that there was no point in hating each other when honestly we were both people who cared for the other. Which I still think is dumb that I didn’t figure it out sooner considering the many amount of times that he’s saved my life.

“Mmph-” He let out, struggling against my hand. His eyes were getting a little cloudy and hooded, it fit him nicely. Finally he used his brain, moving one of his hands up to mine, trying to pull it away from his face at his need for air.

I shook my head a little, pushing my hand further against his face. His eyebrows twitched a little, showing off some of his frustration but also that he was thinking about what to do. As we made eye contact again his tongue pushed past his lips again and I chuckled knowing that just licking my hand wasn’t going to make me pull away. But his tongue didn’t just lick my hand, he touched the tip of his tongue against the palm of my hand, bringing up my fingers and between them until they separated enough to let him get in just a gulp of air. I studied his eyes as best as I could since his were starting to close out of concentration. He continued to lick the sides of two of my fingers, slathering them in his saliva. I didn’t realize how entranced I was with what he was doing until I could see that he’d separated my fingers so his mouth and nose were out of the grasp of my hand. I bit the inside of my lip a little, upset that he’d won this weird fight.

Quickly I looked to him again, he was panting through his mouth and his pretty eyes were closed. I stared a little longer knowing that I could, it was somewhat capturing to be able to almost see his little pockets of hair escaping through his mouth as he caught his breath. I swallowed, my own breathing wavering at the sight.

His eyes opened after another minute making me flick my eyes away in embarrassment. Both of our faces were red– though I wasn’t sure why mine was.

“Idiot,” He breathed, reaching his hand up to pull my hand away from his face. I obliged this time, letting my hand fall to his chest.

I stared at the placement of my hand as it rose and fell with his chest, even his breathing was calming to me. Eventually I realized again how wet my hand was, turning a lip up at how uncomfortable it was to have his spit dripping from my fingers.

Before I could exactly say anything about his spit his hands snaked behind me and eventually made contact with my hips. The pajama pants I was wearing had slid down my waist, probably showing off my hips more so than I usually liked but I cocked my head at him, raising an unamused brow but still not protesting to whatever weird game he was starting. I wanted to win.

He moved his head, flicking his hair away from his eyes so that we could look at each other better. “Next time you try to choke me,” He paused almost looking through his lashes because of how hooded his eyes were, “Do it properly, yeah?”

My breathing hitched a little at his words and at the fact that his fingertips were starting to form circles on my exposed skin. This felt weird– no, not weird. Just different. I felt completely out of control from what was happening, like I just didn’t know what to expect from this.

“Scared?” He asked cocking his head with a smirk.

“No,” I bit back defensively.

Instead I lifted my eyebrow, quickly throwing the hand on his chest back to the wooden panel on the headboard.

Awkwardly I leaned over him, trying to understand the position we were in and trying to make it so I looked like I was winning. His eyes lit up a little at my movements, but he propped himself up further on his elbows so we were even closer.

“You gonna do something to me, pretty boy?” He asked teasingly.

I pulled away at his question, my eyebrows twisting together. Do something to him– like what like– my eyes shifted to his before I could even realize that’s what I was doing. A blurr covered my mind as my face went even redder.

“You enjoyed that didn’t you?” My tone wasn’t teasing or confident, but I don’t think I came off as disgusted either, I was more just– surprised.

“Yeah,” He said quietly, though his confident demeanor didn’t change.

I swallowed again, this time it felt like I was trying to swallow some indigestable urge to do something, I didn’t quite understand but it was like my whole being was itching for something that felt like I couldn’t have. It felt like a lump in my throat. Everything in my body felt hypersensitive, like one more touch of Keith’s and I’d be begging for more. I realized how crazy my thoughts were, how weird it was that there was just some weird urge pulling at my throat. My breathing got heavier the more I got lost in thought.

What was that urge- why couldn’t I fill it or at least figure out what it was. I grumbled, my breathing speeding up more at the anger towards myself. Another lump formed in my throat as I looked back to Keith. He seemed to have some sort of caring look towards me behind the border of confidence he had laid out.

Frustration filled my anticipated body before I realized something– I wanted him to touch me more.

There was some sort of burning that left my skin, some sort of heat that filled me when he touched me and I wanted everything and more to fix that– to feed into it.

[yridenergyridenergy]

Phalaris Vol.II - Kanazawa-shi Culture Hall [2023/05/18] live report

SETLIST

Hibiki

Schadenfreude

Mouai ni Shosu

Devote My Life

Utsutsu, Bouga o Kurau

Ningen wo Kaburu

13

Uroko

Eddie

GRIEF

Beautiful Dirt

Otogi

The Perfume of Sins

ENCORE

Dozing Green (acoustic)

un deux

T.D.F.F.

Sustain the Untruth

Revelation of mankind

Holy hell, another excellent show!

The first thing that hit me at Kanazawa-shi Culture Hall was that I wasn't passed the memo for shimote? There were so many young women wearing pretty little dresses. They also happened to not move that much, barely headbang during the show. I wonder if they had photoshoots in Kanazawa's old village neighbourhood and wanted to remain prim and proper for Kaoru and Toshiya. Anyway, because of the chairs' disposition and the fact that the fan in front of me decided to occupy the aisle on her right (technically allowed), I had an unobstructed view of all of the members. Tomorrow, on the shinkansen back to Tokyo, or on the long flight back home in the next few days, I'll try to commit to paper my memory of every member's look and outfits!

Shinya had his traditional white top with black pants, Die had his black and white-lined tunic tucked into a belt with the Roman soldier kind of leather leggings and his usual bold mascara, Toshiya wore the black lace veil version of his outfit, Kaoru came in with the dual-patterned suit (the top is black & white while the pants are black and leopard yellow/orange) and finally, Kyo adorned his the dark version of his outfit, with the G.I.S.M. T-shirt.

Before I cut the post for a shorter version, the rest appearing after the break below, I HAVE to mention the dance that Toshiya does during Eddie and that we all seem to be forgetting! It's the segment where essentially just Shinya is playing, the second time "Shimatsugaki wa kaki oeta ka? Mirai o sute doko e daibu?" is sung, in a more comical voice. Toshiya gets low, bending his knees, and he starts doing what I can only describe as a "happy dance", throwing his arms high and low, doing exaggerated steps in a circle while this is played. The only gif I could find to illustrate that is this, but crouched:

Also, for Eddie, almost nobody was singing. At some point, Kyo got pissed and threw his mic impulsively in the air backward, almost landing on Shinya's drums. For the long seconds of vocal silence that followed with Kyo not so much glaring as intimidatingly and expectantly staring at the centre of the crowd, it sounded like I was the only one shouting the whole near-end lyrics? People please, learn Eddie! It's not my favourite song on the album and I don't know the lyrics by heart, but I can make vaguely similar sounds that satisfy Kyo! He eventually picked up his mic again to resume singing from "Kusodomo ga" (Shitholes) to finish the song in frustration.

GRIEF followed and it looked like Kyo was still pissed and sang with more fury. In fact, I'd say that the Eddie performance affected the encore all the way until maybe halfway into un deux, at which point Kyo demanded us to sing with him, higher and more, which fans did join in mass this time.

Going back to the start, Hibiki and Schadenfreude seemed like they had even more passion by the band than before. It sounded like nobody shouted "Ikedomo jigoku ka" with me though? By the way, Hibiki's backdrop is very beautiful, showcasing a bunch of flower coloured lines in water, a bit like if ink is dropped in that liquid and that it eventually hangs in suspension.

Mouai ni Shosu I'm sure is where Kyo puts his arms wide up to his side and dances a bit with his feet, slowly, while staring at us very intently like he controls us.

Throughout the show, it seemed to me like Kaoru came out from his spot way more. There was something he saw in us because he kept teasing us with his head bending to the side, he came up to place a foot on the ledge more often and he sped up to the left arm of the stage almost as soon as the occasion presented. Usually, Toshiya is the one visiting us at the front all the time and Kaoru stays back. Kind of the same thing with Die actually. I noticed yesterday that Die is in his own little world on the right side of the stage, just disappearing off-stage during instrument switches or breaks, whipping his hair back at all odd times, etc. Anyway, it was great to see Kaoru more out there/here!

In Devote My Life, Kyo trotted toward the right arm of the stage right away, jumping over the equipment and then swaying his head there as he asked for the crowd to chant. He came back to the centre and I think Toshiya did the same either in that song or another, but on his way back to the main stage, Toshiya's jump involved really bending his knees along with reclining his bass, which made the jump total rockstar-style for a mere second!

Kyo ran to the left arm of the stage near the end of Utsutsu, Bouga o Kurau, and he did the first: "eranananananaze nanda" (he seems to add and roll an r at the start rather than just go with nana for the whole series), followed by a pause and: "Sore!" right before we're supposed to chant the second series ourselves, but he was already making his way back to the centre of the stage and I'm not sure how well he heard anyone in the crowd. In any case, he clearly was not satisfied this time, but he has reacted worse. Then he extends his hand and belts out those "Ooooooh in mind" lines to conclude the song epically as always!

In Ningen wo Kaburu, I heard a bit more clearly this time that Kyo changed the lyrics. Most of the time, he asks us to chant: "Dare no tame ni ikiru darou?" but he changes it occasionally to shout off-melody about doing it for his own sake, I believe? It was 'ore no', right?

For 13, again that one seemed a few inches more intense than usual, with the face being ripped forcefully off when singing emotionslly about throwing it all away. Man, I can't shake the feeling that we're supposed to be singing Die's backup vocals of: "in the dark, in the heart of, here's everything, Never die." It just doesn't seem right that this moment has no engagement from the crowd. Not to mention that most fans do not move during this song even if it's so powerful and rock- y and that the band goes hard on stage.

I can't remember in which song, but Kyo was so intense in his steps that he bumped backward into his mic stand, which wobbled but thankfully did not fall on Shinya's drums. Kyo glanced a bit worriedly at it but quickly went back to the performance like a professional.

Also, somewhere in the second half of the main setlist, in one of the breaks, Toshiya poured water from his plastic bottle on himself, mainly on his head but I think also on his chest, his back turned to us. He finished by spitting some water upward like a fountain before turning to face us.

Otogi starts in silence with Kyo hitting his forehead, head bent, with his microphone, which he holds with both hands. You can hear heavy breathing, maybe hints of sniffs even. The screen fills up with bright, bright red from the bottom, Kaoru's distortion fills the air and Shinya hints of beats flutter after a while. The song then turns turns really heavy. Toshiya makes various gestures, concealing his eyes with both hands at one point, but he starts the song by holding his hand and his bass high, becoming a proud silhouette against the vivid red.

Then, the spinal mic stand comes forth and Kyo does eery little noises, only to blast out: "NOSE, EYES, EARS" out of nowhere, it's always unexpected! There was so much smoke after "The sound of the brain dying" throughout the song that Kyo was hidden from sight eventually.

The song ended and it seemed like even Kyo took a moment to grasp that it was the end of the main setlist. In fact, the entire band didn't seem ultra aware. It was just that kind of show, so awesome!

The band came back for the encore, Shinya as usual clothed in black with the tour T-shirt, Die with a lose black shirt, his very short leather shorts and the aforementioned tights, Toshiya changed his top for the classy sleeveless dress shirt and Kaoru finally took off his patterned jacket and came back with the leopard pants and his black dress shirt. I don't know how he keeps his layered outfits for the entire main setlist all the time while every other member besides Shinya slowly divests themselves as the heat becomes overbearing! But anyway, what shocked us the most was Kyo returning to the stage with HEAVY black makeup on the lips, as well as on his eyelids now! With the tone of Dozing Green in acoustic and the beginning of un deux, combined with the poor reception he got during Eddie, Kyo looked downright depressed but nevertheless intimidating. With his somewhat spiky blond hair, he reminded me of his Kisou look a bit.

After un deux successfully lightened the mood with reconciliation, T.D.F.F. got everybody totally crazy. We were jumping and headbanging, Toshiya went to the left arm of the stage again for his solo, and Kaoru took notice of shimote's dedication to the song so he walked up front and mouthed a "hey" or whatever with us. He peered really intensely, seriously at all places in the shimote section, it was almost unnerving! Kyo tends to stare at no particular spot, basically a bit above the crowd, while Toshiya and Die smile and stare slightly but then they focus on playing. Kaoru was taking his sweet time scanning the entire crowd on his side of the venue yo. He'd nod from time to time when our reaction wad energetic enough.

It must have been in the encore, because I'm confident that Kaoru was wearing only his black dress shirt, Kyo sprinted back to what seemed to be his crate in the centre, so Kaoru peered at that and prepared to head back to shimote but Kyo was quicker and he placed his hand on Kaoru's left shoulder, holding him there as he passed and made his own way to shimote instead, telling Kaoru that it was fine to stay there for now. It's crazy how gaga we become for those small interactions just because they come off as such an antisocial or asocial band, but it works!!!

At one point, I'd say either during Beautiful Dirt or in the encore with Sustain the Untruth, Kyo stared at someone behind the VIP rows and mocked the weakness of their raised hand. When perhaps the fan in question raised their second arm, he imitated that and the way he did it, it clearly made a fool of the lack of energy dispensed. Again, he gestured for the neck to be ruined instead and began dancing on his spot like in Sustain the Untruth.

The last song came and Kyo stood on his crate. He asked us repetitively if we could go, putting his hand over his face and sniffing like he wasn't sure or convinced, which prompted me to scream before he asked again and everybody in the crowd joined as well in the cheer. Kyo then went: "KAAAAAANAAAAZAAAWAAAAAA", followed by: "KAAAAAAAAAAANAAAAAAAAAAAzawa". He compelled us to keep it up for the last song a couple of times more, after which he screamed: "Then die!" roughly, adding "Last Song" quickly almost like an after-thought immediately after as the first notes of Revelation of mankind began.

What ensued was headbanging, some joint singing between the crowd and Kyo, and a beautiful final. By the end, he had almost none of the black makeup left on the lips, maybe only at the corners of his mouth, but none dripping on his chin due to sweat - maybe stuck on his mic or he swallowed it while singing? At the end, he just stood there exhausted and wiped the rest of it off, only the eyes still shadowed. Kyo clapped multiple times, nodding like we deserved those claps, until Shinya's finishing beats. Then he clapped some more, pointed at the young girl with the headphones in the crowd and doing the finger hook to her a couple of times, nodding and pointing twice at his temples, making it obvious he was refering to her. Then he turned his attention back to the whole crowd, stepped back a couple of inches, belted out: "KANAZAWA" micless, then: "Bye Bye" in the same fashion with a curt wave of his hand, and left.

Shinya threw his drumsticks from on top of Kyo's crate afterward and as he left the stage, he walked squarely far, more than a metre away from Kaoru as he passed. Kaoru had been collecting some picks from his micstand and he slightly smirked at Shinya on the latter's way out. The three remaining members on stage threw stuff mostly in the back. I guess they really want to make use of the stage's arms on the side to reach parts of the crowd that they couldn't have access to from a general-admission type of venue.

Toshiya left rather early tonight and didn't seem all that smiley, but he bowed respectfully and appreciatively before leaving.

I think there was a small interaction between Die and Kaoru as they crossed path to alternate the side of the stage that they were donating picks to.

And as you already know, Kaoru did the magic trick of throwing a pick, we look up and get blinded by the lights in the ceiling, look back down to see where it landed, and Kaoru's right there opening his palm with his mouth wide open in a smirk, expression falsely surprised, then he popped it out of his palm and next thing I know, I flex my left hand while people around me are looking everywhere at the ground for the pick and there it is, something solid apparently landed in my palm! Woooo!

What a wonderful way to end this streak of seven shows that I was able to see this tour! I hope everyone will have an amazing time for the following, concluding shows, as well as during the Petit Brabançon but even more so the sukekiyo tour this summer, you lucky fellows!

[mindfights]

another little chargestep drabble, post-retribution. further into recovery, further into acceptance.

The therapeutic casts and crutches are an upgrade. More manueverability, less dependence on Ortega helping you — carrying you, mostly — hither and to. No more suspicious buckets set just on the edge of your reach without a word. Less indignity, mostly. It's refreshing.

You can perch on the kitchen counter beside him while he makes you both breakfast and — vital to your continued recovery — you can control how the coffee is brewed. No more watching him disappear down the hallway only to reappear sometime later with food and painkillers.

It almost feels like old times, but that was always dinner. Breakfast is still new to you both. He likes making pancakes entirely too much for his vanity and ego, you like complaining about his hot sauces not being spicy enough for your eggs and laughing while he curses at you. You also like watching him stuff his face and just seem... happy.

It's so weird. Domesticity. Eating breakfast together, legs as gently tangled as your casts allow. Drying dishes and him pressing his hip against yours, a comforting presence, a clue with how he's feeling now that he knows how his static wears on you. Him making sure you're hidden so no one passing by his door can get a peek — his paranoia working for you for once — before kissing you as he heads out, long, and soft, and with a smile in it that breaks you down. He's doing everything to make you feel safe, so you play along as best you can. He's seen the nightmares now, bundled you into his arms while your body trembles from old memories, but he has not seen the anger and frustration and tears that accompany you trying to reach your puppet.

You want to keep it that way. You want to lose yourself in this little stage play you're both cast in.

No.

You want it to be real.

Can it? If your body recovers before they find you, you can disappear, slip into the guise of Frenzy. You can go back to your plan. You can burn their atrocities into the minds of every person breathing the polluted Los Diablos air. The Rangers already know. You've shared more through Ortega while convalescing. Trusted — trusted as much as you can — him and Argent's tech support to keep it quiet during ranger hq show-and-tell.

Would that make Frenzy's re-emergence all the more obvious? Their actions all but a lit up billboard of what you've told them.

Motherbitch.

You think back to Herald on the ground, Ortega's devil-may-care smile you beat off his face, Argent taking a dive off that bridge. You think back to Steel seeing Frenzy take charge in an emergency to save people. You think about Ortega pulling you onto his lap and kissing the ugly orange lines tainting your bare shoulder.

You can almost hear what Themmy would say and your shoulders sag.

"I have to tell them, don't I?"